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diff --git a/8122.txt b/8122.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..228dd62 --- /dev/null +++ b/8122.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6051 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Legends of the Northwest, by Hanford Lennox Gordon + +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: Legends of the Northwest + +Author: Hanford Lennox Gordon + + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8122] +This file was first posted on June 16, 2003 +Last Updated: May 8, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGENDS OF THE NORTHWEST *** + + + + +Produced by Susan Skinner, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + +LEGENDS OF THE NORTHWEST. + +By H. L. Gordon + +_Author of Pauline_. + + + + +CONTAINING + +PRELUDE--THE MISSISSIPPI. + +THE FEAST OF THE VIRGINS, A LEGEND OF THE DAKOTAS. + +WINONA, A LEGEND OF THE DAKOTAS. + +THE LEGEND OF THE FALLS, A LEGEND OF THE DAKOTAS. + +THE SEA-GULL, THE OJIBWA LEGEND OF THE PICTURED ROCKS OF LAKE SUPERIOR. + +MINNETONKA. + + * * * * * + +PREFACE. + +I have for several years devoted many of my leisure hours to the study +of the language, history, traditions, customs and superstitions of the +Dakotas. These Indians are now commonly called the "Sioux"--a name given +them by the early French traders and _voyageurs_. "Dakota" signifies +_alliance_ or _confederation_. Many separate bands, all having a common +origin and speaking a common tongue, were united under this name. See +"_Tah-Koo Wah-Kan_," or "_The Gospel Among the Dakotas_," by Stephen R. +Riggs, pp. 1 to 6 inc. + +They were, but yesterday, the occupants and owners of the fair forests +and fertile prairies of Minnesota--a brave, hospitable and generous +people,--barbarians, indeed, but noble in their barbarism. They may be +fitly called the Iroquois of the West. In form and features, in language +and traditions, they are distinct from all other Indian tribes. When +first visited by white men, and for many years afterwards, the Falls of +St. Anthony (by them called the Ha-Ha) was the center of their country. +They cultivated tobacco, and hunted the elk, the beaver and the bison. +They were open-hearted, truthful and brave. In their wars with other +tribes they seldom slew women or children, and rarely sacrificed the +lives of their prisoners. + +For many years their chiefs and head men successfully resisted the +attempts to introduce spirituous liquors among them. More than a century +ago an English trader was killed at Mendota, because he persisted, +after repeated warnings by the chiefs, in dealing out _mini-wakan_ +(Devil-water) to the Dakota braves. + +With open arms and generous hospitality they welcomed the first white +men to their land; and were ever faithful in their friendship, +till years of wrong and robbery, and want and insult, drove them to +desperation and to war. They were barbarians, and their warfare was +barbarous, but not more barbarous than the warfare of our Saxon and +Celtic ancestors. They were ignorant and superstitious, but their +condition closely resembled the condition of our British forefathers +at the beginning of the Christian era. Macaulay says of Britain, "Her +inhabitants, when first they became known to the Tyrian mariners, were +little superior to the natives of the Sandwich Islands." And again, +"While the German princes who reigned at Paris, Toledo, Arles and +Ravenna listened with reverence to the instructions of Bishops, adored +the relics of martyrs, and took part eagerly in disputes touching the +Nicene theology, the rulers of Wessex and Mercia were still performing +savage rites in the temples of Thor and Woden." + +The day of the Dakotas is done. The degenerate remnants of that once +powerful and warlike people still linger around the forts and agencies +of the Northwest, or chase the caribou and the bison on the banks of the +Sascatchewan, but the Dakotas of old are no more. The brilliant defeat +of Custer, by Sitting Bull and his braves, was their last grand rally +against the resistless march of the sons of the Saxons and the Celts. +The plow-shares of a superior race are fast leveling the sacred mounds +of their dead. But yesterday, the shores of our lakes, and our rivers, +were dotted with their tepees. Their light canoes glided over our +waters, and their hunters chased the deer and the buffalo on the sites +of our cities. To-day, they are not. Let us do justice to their memory, +for there was much that was noble in their natures. In the following +Dakota Legends I have endeavored to faithfully represent many of the +customs and superstitions, and some of the traditions, of that people. +I have taken very little "poetic license" with their traditions; none, +whatever, with their customs and superstitions. In my studies for these +Legends I have been greatly aided by Rev. S. R. Riggs, author of the +Grammar and Dictionary of the Dakota language, "Tah-Koo Wah-Kan," &c., +and for many years a missionary among the Dakotas. He has patiently +answered my numerous inquiries and given me valuable information. I am +also indebted to Gen. H. H. Sibley, one of the earliest American traders +among them, and to Rev. S. W. Pond, of Shakopee, one of the first +Protestant missionaries to these people, and himself the author of +poetical versions of some of their principal legends; to Mrs. Eastman's +"Dacotah." and last, but not least, to the Rev. E. D. Neill, whose +admirable "History of Minnesota" so fully and faithfully presents almost +all that is known of the history, traditions, customs, manners and +superstitions of the Dakotas. In _Winona_ I have "tried my hand" on +Hexameter verse. With what success, I leave to those who are better able +to judge than I. If I have failed, I have but added another failure to +the numerous vain attempts to naturalize Hexameter verse in the English +language. + +The Earl of Derby, in the preface to his translation of the Iliad, calls +it "That pestilent heresy of the so-called English Hexameter; a metre +wholly repugnant to the genius of our language; which can only be +pressed into the service by a violation of every rule of prosody." Lord +Kames, in his "Elements of Criticism." says, "Many attempts have been +made to introduce Hexameter verse into the living languages, but +without success. The English language, I am inclined to think, is +not susceptible of this melody, and my reasons are these: First, the +polysyllables in Latin and Greek are finely diversified by long and +short syllables, a circumstance that qualifies them for the melody of +Hexameter verse: ours are extremely ill qualified for that service, +because they super-abound in short syllables. Secondly, the bulk of our +monosyllables are arbitrary with regard to length, which is an unlucky +circumstance in Hexameter. * * * In Latin and Greek Hexameter invariable +sounds direct and ascertain the melody. English Hexameter would +be destitute of melody, unless by artful pronunciation; because of +necessity the bulk of its sounds must be arbitrary. The pronunciation +is easy in a simple movement of alternate long and short syllables; +but would be perplexing and unpleasant in the diversified movement of +Hexameter verse." + +Beautiful as is the _Evangeline_ of Longfellow, his Hexameter lines +are sometimes hard to scan, and often grate harshly on the ear. He is +frequently forced to divide a word by the central or pivotal pause of +the line, and sometimes to make a pause in the sense where the rhythm +forbids it. Take for example some of the opening lines of _Evangeline_: + + "This is the forest prime|val. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, + Bearded with moss, and in gar|ments green, indistinct in the twilight. + Loud from its rocky cav|erns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean + Speaks, and in accents discon|solate answers the wail of the forest. + Lay in the fruitful val|ley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward." + +Again, in order to comply with the Greek and Latin rule of beginning +each line with a _long_ syllable, he is compelled to emphasize words +contrary to the sense. Examples: + + _In_ the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas + _Some_what apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of Minas. + _But_ a celestial bright|ness--a more etherial beauty. + _And_ the retreating sun the sign of the scorpion enters. + _In_-doors, warmed by the wide-|mouthed fireplace idly the farmer, + _Four_ times the sun had ris|en and set; and now on the fifth day, + +"Greek and Latin Hexameter lines, as to time, are all of the same +length, being equivalent to the time taken in pronouncing twelve long +syllables, or twenty-four short ones. An Hexameter line may consist of +seventeen syllables, and when regular and not Spondiac, it never has +fewer than thirteen: whence it follows that where the syllables are +many, the plurality must be short; where few, the plurality must be +long. This line is susceptible of much variety as to the succession of +long and short syllables. It is however subject to laws that confine its +variety within certain limits. * * * + +1st. The line must always commence with a _long_ syllable, and close +with two long preceded by two short. + +2d. More than two short syllables can never be found together, nor +_fewer_ than two. + +3d. Two long syllables which have been preceded by two short can not +also be followed by two short. + +These few rules fulfill all the conditions of an Hexameter line +with relation to order of arrangement."--_Lord Kames, "Elements of +Criticism."_ One who attempts to write English Hexameter, under the +Greek and Latin rules, will speedily be made aware that the English +language "super-abounds in short syllables." Why then should we rigidly +adhere to rules repugnant to the genius of our language, if they can be +modified so as to adapt the sonorous Hexameter to the structure of our +mother-tongue? Can they be so modified? I have attempted it. I venture +to change them as follows: + +1st. By beginning each line with a _short_ syllable instead of a long +one. And it will be seen that I often begin a line with two short +syllables. + +2d. By often using one short syllable unaccompanied by another. + +3d. I have increased the average number of syllables in the line to +better adapt it to our super-abundance of short syllables. + +4th. In _Winona_ I have introduced a rhyme at the pivotal pause of +the line, not because my Hexameter requires it, but because I think it +increases the melody, and more emphatically marks the central pause. + +I am not quite sure that, in a long poem, the rhyme is not detrimental. +That depends greatly, however, upon the skill with which it is handled. +Surely the same Hexameter can be written as smoothly and more vigorously +without rhyme. Rhyme adds greatly to the labor of composition; it rarely +assists, but often hinders, the expression of the sense which the author +would convey. At times I have been on the point of abandoning it +in despair, but after having been under the hammer and the file, at +intervals for the last four years, _Winona_ is at last _done_, if not +finished. + +It will be observed that I have slightly changed the length and the +rhythm of the old Hexameter line, but it is still Hexameter, and, I +think, improved. I am not afraid of intelligent criticism. I invoke it, +and will endeavor to profit by it in the future as in the past. + +The reception of my _Pauline_ at home and abroad has been so flattering +that I have been encouraged to attempt something better. That was my +first real effort and full of crudities but if the Legends are received +by our best critics as well as _Pauline_ was received I shall be well +pleased with my efforts. + +After much thought I have decided to publish the first edition of my +_Legends_ here at home: + +1st Because they pertain particularly to the lakes and rivers to the +fair forests and fertile fields of our own Minnesota and ought to be +appreciated here if anywhere. + +2d Because many of our people are competent to judge whether my +representations of Dakota customs, life, traditions, and superstitions +are correct or not and at the same time the reading public of the North +west is as intelligent and discriminating as that of any other portion +of our country. If these _Legends_ be appreciated and approved by our +own people who are familiar with the scenery described and more or less, +with the customs, traditions and superstitions of the Dakotas, and if +beyond that these poems shall stand the test of candid criticism I may +give them a wider publication. + +H. L. GORDON. + +MINNEAPOLIS. June 1, 1881. + + +[Illustration: VIEW OF THE MISSISSIPPI AT FORT SNELLING] + + + + +PRELUDE. + + + + +THE MISSISSIPPI. + + + Onward rolls the Royal River, proudly sweeping to the sea, + Dark and deep and grand, forever wrapt in myth and mystery. + Lo he laughs along the highlands, leaping o'er the granite walls: + Lo he sleeps among the islands, where the loon her lover calls. + Still like some huge monster winding downward through the prairie plains, + Seeking rest but never finding, till the tropic gulf he gains. + In his mighty arms he claspeth now an empire broad and grand; + In his left hand lo he graspeth leagues of fen and forest land; + In his right the mighty mountains, hoary with eternal snow. + Where a thousand foaming fountains singing seek the plains below. + Fields of corn and feet of cities lo the mighty river laves, + Where the Saxon sings his ditties o'er the swarthy warriors' graves. + Aye, before the birth, of Moses--ere the Pyramids were piled-- + All his banks were red with roses from the sea to nor'lands wild, + And from forest, fen and meadows, in the deserts of the north, + Elk and bison stalked like shadows, and the tawny tribes came forth; + Deeds of death and deeds of daring on his leafy banks were done-- + Women loved and men went warring--ere the siege of Troy begun. + Where his wayward waters thundered, roaring o'er the rocky walls, + Dusky hunters sat and wondered, listening to the spirits' calls. + "Ha-ha!" [76] cried the warrior greeting from afar the cataract's roar; + "Ha-ha!" rolled the answer, beating down the rock-ribbed leagues of shore. + Now, alas, the bow and quiver and the dusky braves have fled, + And the sullen, shackled river drives the droning mills instead. + + Where the war whoop rose, and, after, women wailed their warriors slain, + List the Saxon's silvery laughter, and his humming hives of gain. + Swiftly sped the tawny runner o'er the pathless prairies then, + Now the iron-reindeer sooner carries weal or woe to men. + On thy bosom, Royal River, silent sped the birch canoe, + Bearing brave with bow and quiver, on his way to war or woo; + Now with flaunting flags and streamers--mighty monsters of the deep-- + Lo the puffing, panting steamers, through thy foaming waters sweep; + And behold the grain-fields golden, where the bison grazed of eld; + See the fanes of forests olden by the ruthless Saxon felled,-- + Plumed pines that spread their shadows ere Columbus spread his sails. + Firs that fringed the mossy meadows ere the Mayflower braved the gales, + Iron oaks that nourished bruin while the Vikings roamed the main, + Crashing fall in broken ruin for the greedy marts of gain. + + Still forever and forever rolls the restless river on, + Slumbering oft but ceasing never, while the circling centuries run. + In his palm the lakelet lingers, in his hair the brooklets hide, + Grasped within his thousand fingers lies a continent fair and wide,-- + Yea, a mighty empire swarming with its millions like the bees, + Delving, drudging, striving, storming, all their lives, for golden ease. + + Still, methinks, the dusky shadows of the days that are no more + Stalk around the lakes and meadows, haunting oft the wonted shore,-- + Hunters from the land of spirits seek the bison and the deer, + Where the Saxon now inherits golden field and silver mere; + And beside the mound where burried lies the dark-eyed maid he loves, + Some tall warrior, wan and wearied, in the misty moonlight moves. + See--he stands erect and lingers--stoic still, but loth to go-- + Clutching in his tawny fingers feathered shaft and polished bow. + Never wail or moan he utters and no tear is on his face, + But a warrior's curse he mutters on the crafty Saxon race. + + O thou dark, mysterious River, speak and tell thy tales to me; + Seal not up thy lips forever--veiled in mist and mystery. + I will sit and lowly listen at the phantom-haunted falls, + Where thy waters foam and glisten o'er the rugged, rocky walls. + Till some spirit of the olden, mystic, weird, romantic days + Shall emerge and pour her golden tales and legends through my lays. + Then again the elk and bison on thy grassy banks shall feed, + And along the low horizon shall the plumed hunter speed; + Then again on lake and river shall the silent birch canoe + Bear the brave with bow and quiver on his way to war or woo: + Then the beaver on the meadow shall rebuild his broken wall, + And the wolf shall chase his shadow and his mate the panther call. + From the prairies and the regions where the pine-plumed forest grows + Shall arise the tawny legions with their lances and their bows; + And again the shouts of battle shall resound along the plain, + Bows shall twang and quivers rattle, women wail their warriors slain. + + + + +THE FEAST OF THE VIRGINS. [1] + +A LEGEND OF THE DAKOTAS. + + +(In pronouncing Dakota words give "a" the sound of "ah"--"e" the sound +of "a"--"i" the sound of "e" and "u" the sound of "oo," sound "ee" as +in English. The numerals, 1, 2, etc. refer to explanatory notes in the +appendix.) + + + + +THE GAME OF BALL. [2] + + + Clear was the sky as a silver shield; + The bright sun blazed on the frozen field. + On icebound river and white robed prairie + The diamonds gleamed in the flame of noon; + But cold and keen were the breezes airy + Wa-zi-ya [3] blew from his icy throne. + + On the solid ice of the silent river + The bounds are marked, and a splendid prize, + A robe of black fox lined with beaver-- + Is hung in view of the eager eyes; + And fifty merry Dakota maidens, + The fairest moulded of woman kind, + Are gathered in groups on the level ice. + They look on the robe and its beauty gladdens, + And maddens their hearts for the splendid prize. + Lo the rounded ankles and raven hair + That floats at will on the wanton wind, + And the round brown arms to the breezes bare, + And breasts like the mounds where the waters meet, [4] + And feet as fleet as the red deer's feet, + And faces that glow like the full, round moon + When she laughs in the luminous skies of June. + + The leaders are chosen and swiftly divide + The opposing parties on either side. + Wiwaste [5] is chief of a nimble band. + The star-eyed daughter of Little Crow; [6] + And the leader chosen to hold command + Of the band adverse is a haughty foe-- + The dusky, impetuous Harpstina, [7] + The queenly cousin of Wapasa. [8] + Kapoza's chief and his tawny hunters + Are gathered to witness the queenly game. + The ball is thrown and a bat encounters, + And away it flies with a loud acclaim. + Swift are the maidens that follow after, + And swiftly it flies for the farther bound: + And long and loud are the peals of laughter, + As some fair runner is flung to ground; + While backward and forward, and to and fro, + The maidens contend on the trampled snow. + With loud "Iho!--Ito!--Iho!" [9] + And waving the beautiful prize anon, + The dusky warriors cheer them on. + And often the limits are almost passed, + As the swift ball flies and returns. At last + It leaps the line at a single bound + From the fair Wiwaste's sturdy stroke, + Like a fawn that flies from the baying hound. + Wild were the shouts, and they rolled and broke + On the beetling bluffs and the hills profound, + An echoing, jubilant sea of sound. + Wakawa, the chief, and the loud acclaim + Announced the end of the well-fought game, + And the fair Wiwaste was victor crowned. + + Dark was the visage of Harpstina + When the robe was laid at her rival's feet, + And merry maidens and warriors saw + Her flashing eyes and her look of hate, + As she turned to Wakawa, the chief, and said:-- + "The game was mine were it fairly played. + I was stunned by a blow on my bended head, + As I snatched the ball from slippery ground + Not half a fling from Wiwaste's bound. + And the cheat--behold her! for there she stands + With the prize that is mine in her treacherous hands. + The fawn may fly, but the wolf is fleet; + The fox creeps sly on Maga's [10] retreat; + And a woman's revenge--it is swift and sweet." + She turned to her lodge, but a roar of laughter + And merry mockery followed after. + Little they heeded the words she said, + Little they cared for her haughty tread, + For maidens and warriors and chieftain knew + That her lips were false and her charge untrue. + + Wiwaste, the fairest Dakota maiden, + The sweet-faced daughter of Little Crow, + To her teepee [11] turned with her trophy laden-- + The black robe trailing the virgin snow. + Beloved was she by her princely father, + Beloved was she by the young and old, + By merry maidens and many a mother, + And many a warrior bronzed and bold. + For her face was as fair as a beautiful dream, + And her voice like the song of the mountain stream; + And her eyes like the stars when they glow and gleam. + Through the somber pines of the nor'land wold, + When the winds of winter are keen and cold. + + Mah-pi-ya Du-ta [12] the tall Red Cloud, + A hunter swift and a warrior proud, + With many a scar and many a feather, + Was a suitor bold and a lover fond. + Long had he courted Wiwaste's father, + Long had he sued for the maiden's hand. + Aye, brave and proud was the tall Red Cloud, + A peerless son of a giant race, + And the eyes of the panther were set in his face. + He strode like a stag, and he stood like a pine: + Ten feathers he wore of the great Wanmdee; [13] + With crimsoned quills of the porcupine + His leggins were worked to his brawny knee. + The bow he bent was a giant's bow; + The swift red elk could he overtake, + And the necklace that girdled his brawny neck + Was the polished claws of the great Mato [14] + He grappled and slew in the northern snow. + + Wiwaste looked on the warrior tall; + She saw he was brawny and brave and great, + But the eyes of the panther she could but hate, + And a brave Hohe [15] loved she better than all. + Loved was Mahpiya by Harpstina, + But the warrior she never could charm or draw; + And bitter indeed was her secret hate + For the maiden she reckoned so fortunate. + + + + +HEYOKA WACIPEE [16]--THE GIANT'S DANCE. + + + The night-sun [17] sails in his gold canoe, + The spirits [18] walk in the realms of air + With their glowing faces and flaming hair, + And the shrill, chill winds o'er the prairies blow. + In the Tee [19] of the Council the Virgins light + The Virgin-fire [20] for the feast to-night; + For the Sons of Heyoka will celebrate + The sacred dance to the giant great. + The kettle boils on the blazing fire, + And the flesh is done to the chief's desire. + With his stoic face to sacred East, [21] + He takes his seat at the Giant's Feast. + + For the feast of Heyoka [22] the braves are dressed + With crowns from the bark of the white-birch trees, + And new skin leggins that reach the knees; + With robes of the bison and swarthy bear, + And eagle-plumes in their coal-black hair, + And marvelous rings in their tawny ears, + Which were pierced with the points of their shining spears. + To honor Heyoka, Wakawa lifts + His fuming pipe from the Red-stone Quarry. [23] + The warriors follow. The white cloud drifts + From the Council-lodge to the welkin starry, + Like a fog at morn on the fir-clad hill, + When the meadows are damp and the winds are still. + + They dance to the tune of their wild "Ha-ha!" + A warrior's shout and a raven's caw-- + Circling the pot and the blaming fire + To the tom-tom's bray and the rude bassoon; + Round and round to their heart's desire, + And ever the same wild chant and tune-- + A warrior's shout and a raven's caw-- + "Ha-ha,--ha-ha,--ha-ha,--ha!" + They crouch, they leap, and their burning eyes + Flash fierce in the light of the flaming fire, + As fiercer and fiercer and higher and higher + The rude, wild notes of their chant arise. + They cease, they sit, and the curling smoke + Ascends again from their polished pipes, + And upward curls from their swarthy lips + To the God whose favor their hearts invoke. + + Then tall Wakawa arose and said: + "Brave warriors, listen, and give due heed. + Great is Heyoka, the magical god; + He can walk on the air; he can float on the flood. + He's a worker of magic and wonderful wise; + He cries when he laughs and he laughs when he cries; + He sweats when he's cold, and he shivers when hot, + And the water is cold in his boiling pot. + He hides in the earth and he walks in disguise, + But he loves the brave and their sacrifice. + We are sons of Heyoka. The Giant commands + In the boiling water to thrust our hands; + And the warrior that scorneth the foe and fire + Heyoka will crown with his hearts desire." + + They thrust their hands in the boiling pot; + They swallow the bison meat steaming hot, + Not a wince on their stoical faces bold. + For the meat and the water, they say, are cold, + And great is Heyoka and wonderful wise; + He floats on the flood and he walks in the skies, + And ever appears in a strange disguise; + But he loves the brave and their sacrifice; + And the warrior that scorneth the foe and fire + Heyoka will crown with his heart's desire. + + Proud was the chief of his warriors proud, + The sinewy sons of the Giant's race; + But the bravest of all was the tall Red Cloud; + The eyes of the panther were set in his face; + He strode like a stag and he stood like a pine; + Ten feathers he wore at the great Wanmdee; [13] + With crimsoned quills of the porcupine + His leggins were worked to his brawny knee. + Blood-red were the stripes on his swarthy cheek, + And the necklace that girdled his brawny neck + Was the polished claws of the great Mato [14] + He grappled and slew in the northern snow. + + Proud Red Cloud turned to the braves and said, + As he shook the plumes on his haughty head: + + "Ho! the warrior that scorneth the foe and fire + Heyoka will crown with his heart's desire!" + He snatched from the embers a red-hot brand, + And held it aloft in his naked hand. + He stood like a statue in bronze or stone,-- + Not a muscle moved, and the braves looked on. + He turned to the chieftain,--"I scorn the fire,-- + Ten feathers I wear of the great Wanmdee; + Then grant me, Wakawa, my heart's desire; + Let the sunlight shine in my lonely tee. [19] + I laugh at red death and I laugh at red fire; + Brave Red Cloud is only afraid of fear; + But Wiwaste is fair to his heart and dear; + Then grant him, Wakawa, his heart's desire." + + The warriors applauded with loud "Ho! Ho!" [24] + And he flung the brand to the drifting snow. + Three times Wakawa puffed forth the smoke + From his silent lips; then he slowly spoke: + "Mahpiya is strong as the stout-armed oak + That stands on the bluff by the windy plain, + And laughs at the roar of the hurricane. + He has slain the foe and the great Mato + With his hissing arrow and deadly stroke. + My heart is swift but my tongue is slow. + Let the warrior come to my lodge and smoke; + He may bring the gifts; [25] but the timid doe + May fly from the hunter and say him no." + + Wiwaste sat late in the lodge alone, + Her dark eyes bent on the glowing fire. + She heard not the wild winds shrill and moan; + She heard not the tall elms toss and groan; + Her face was lit like the harvest moon; + For her thoughts flew far to her heart's desire. + Far away in the land of the Hohe [15] dwelt + The warrior she held in her secret heart; + But little he dreamed of the pain she felt, + For she hid her love with a maiden's art. + Not a tear she shed, not a word she said, + When the fair young chief from the lodge departed; + But she sat on the mound when the day was dead, + And gazed at the full moon mellow hearted. + Fair was the chief as the morning-star; + His eyes were mild and his words were low, + But his heart was stouter than lance or bow; + And her young heart flew to her love afar + O'er his trail long covered with drifted snow. + But she heard a warrior's stealthy tread, + And the tall Wakawa appeared, and said-- + "Is Wiwaste afraid of the spirit dread + That fires the sky in the fatal north? [26] + Behold the mysterious lights. Come forth + Some evil threatens,--some danger nears, + For the skies are pierced with the burning spears." + + The warriors rally beneath the moon; + They shoot their shafts at the evil spirit. + The spirit is slain and the flame is gone, + And his blood lies red on the snow fields near it. + But again from the dead will the spirit rise, + And flash his spears in the northern skies. + + Then the chief and the queenly Wiwaste stood + Alone in the moon-lit solitude, + And she was silent and he was grave. + "And fears not my daughter the evil spirit? + The strongest warriors and bravest fear it + The burning spears are an evil omen; + They threaten the wrath of a wicked woman, + Or a treacherous foe; but my warriors brave, + When danger nears, or the foe appears, + Are a cloud of arrows,--a grove of spears." + + "My Father," she said, and her words were low, + "Why should I fear? for I soon will go + To the broad, blue lodge in the Spirit land, + Where my dark eyed mother went long ago, + And my dear twin sisters walk hand in hand. + My Father, listen,--my words are true," + And sad was her voice as the whippowil + When she mourns her mate by the moon-lit rill, + "Wiwaste lingers alone with you, + The rest are sleeping on yonder hill,-- + Save one--and he an undutiful son,-- + And you, my Father, will sit alone + When Sisoka [27] sings and the snow is gone. + I sat, when the maple leaves were red, + By the foaming falls of the haunted river; + The night sun was walking above my head, + And the arrows shone in his burnished quiver; + And the winds were hushed and the hour was dread + With the walking ghosts of the silent dead. + I heard the voice of the Water-Fairy; [28] + I saw her form in the moon-lit mist, + As she sat on a stone with her burden weary, + By the foaming eddies of amethyst. + And robed in her mantle of mist the sprite + Her low wail poured on the silent night. + Then the spirit spake, and the floods were still-- + They hushed and listened to what she said, + And hushed was the plaint of the whippowil + In the silver-birches above her head: + 'Wiwaste,--the prairies are green and fair, + When the robin sings and the whippowil; + But the land of the Spirits is fairer still, + For the winds of winter blow never there; + And forever the songs of the whippowils + And the robins are heard on the leafy hills. + Thy mother looks from her lodge above,-- + Her fair face shines in the sky afar, + And the eyes of thy sisters are bright with love, + As they peep from the tee of the mother-star. + To her happy lodge in the spirit-land + She beckons Wiwaste with shining hand.' + + "My Father,--my Father, her words were true; + And the death of Wiwaste will rest on you. + You have pledged me as wife to the tall Red Cloud; + You will take the gifts of the warrior proud; + But I, Wakawa,--I answer--never! + I will stain your knife in my heart's red blood, + I will plunge and sink in the sullen river, + Ere I will be wife to the fierce Red Cloud!" + + "Wiwaste," he said, and his voice was low, + "Let it be as you will, for Wakawa's tongue + Has spoken no promise;--his lips are slow, + And the love of a father is deep and strong. + Be happy, Micunksee [29], the flames are gone,-- + They flash no more in the Northern sky. + See the smile on the face of the watching moon; + No more will the fatal red arrows fly; + For the singing shafts of my warriors sped + To the bad spirit's bosom and laid him dead, + And his blood on the snow of the North lies red. + Go,--sleep in the robe that you won to-day, + And dream of your hunter--the brave Chaske." + + Light was her heart as she turned away; + It sang like the lark in the skies of May. + The round moon laughed, but a lone red star, [30] + As she turned to the teepee and entered in, + Fell flashing and swift in the sky afar, + Like the polished point of a javelin. + Nor chief nor daughter the shadow saw + Of the crouching listener--Harpstina. + + Wiwaste, wrapped in her robe and sleep + Heard not the storm-sprites wail and weep, + As they rode on the winds in the frosty air; + But she heard the voice of her hunter fair; + For a shadowy spirit with fairy fingers + The curtains drew from the land of dreams; + And lo in her teepee her lover lingers; + The light of love in his dark eye beams, + And his voice is the music of mountain streams. + + And then with her round, brown arms she pressed + His phantom form to her throbbing breast, + And whispered the name, in her happy sleep, + Of her Hohe hunter so fair and far. + And then she saw in her dreams the deep + Where the spirit wailed, and a falling star; + Then stealthily crouching under the trees, + By the light of the moon, the Kan-o-ti-dan, [31] + The little, wizened, mysterious man, + With his long locks tossed by the moaning breeze. + Then a flap of wings, like a thunder-bird, [32] + And a wailing spirit the sleeper heard; + And lo, through the mists of the moon, she saw + The hateful visage of Harpstina. + + But waking she murmured--"And what are these-- + The flap of wings and the falling star, + The wailing spirit that's never at ease, + The little man crouching under the trees, + And the hateful visage of Harpstina? + My dreams are like feathers that float on the breeze, + And none can tell what the omens are-- + Save the beautiful dream of my love afar + In the happy land of the tall Hohe [15]-- + My beautiful hunter--my brave Chaske." + + "Ta-tanka! Ta-tanka!" [33] the hunters cried, + With a joyous shout at the break of dawn; + And darkly lined on the white hill-side, + A herd of bison went marching on + Through the drifted snow like a caravan. + Swift to their ponies the hunters sped, + And dashed away on the hurried chase. + The wild steeds scented the game ahead, + And sprang like hounds to the eager race. + But the brawny bulls in the swarthy van + Turned their polished horns to the charging foes, + And reckless rider and fleet foot-man + Were held at bay in the drifted snows, + While the bellowing herd o'er the hill-tops ran, + Like the frightened beasts of a caravan + On the Sahara's sands when the simoon blows. + Sharp were the twangs of the hunters' bows, + And swift and humming the arrows sped, + Till ten huge bulls on the bloody snows + Lay pierced with arrows and dumb and dead. + But the chief with the flankers had gained the rear, + And flew on the trail of the flying herd. + The shouts of the riders rang loud and clear, + As their frothing steeds to the chase they spurred. + And now like the roar of an avalanche + Rolls the sullen wrath of the maddened bulls. + They charge on the riders and runners stanch, + And a dying steed in the snow-drift rolls, + While the rider, flung to the frozen ground + Escapes the horns by a panther's bound. + But the raging monsters are held at bay, + While the flankers dash on the swarthy rout. + With lance and arrow they slay and slay; + And the welkin rings to the gladsome shout-- + To the loud Inas and the wild Ihos, [34]-- + And dark and dead, on the bloody snows, + Lie the swarthy heaps of the buffaloes. + + All snug in the teepee Wiwaste lay, + All wrapped in her robe, at the dawn of day,-- + All snug and warm from the wind and snow, + While the hunters followed the buffalo. + Her dreams and her slumber their wild shouts broke; + The chase was afoot when the maid awoke; + She heard the twangs of the hunter's bows, + And the bellowing bulls and the loud Ihos, + And she murmured--"My hunter is far away + In the happy land of the tall Hohe-- + My beautiful hunter, my brave Chaske; + But the robins will come and my warrior too, + And Wiwaste will find her a way to woo." + + And long she lay in a reverie, + And dreamed, wide-awake, of her brave Chaske, + Till a trampling of feet on the crispy snow + She heard, and the murmur of voices low;-- + Then the hunters' greeting--Iho! Iho! + And behold, in the blaze of the risen day, + With the hunters that followed the buffalo,-- + Came her beautiful hunter--her brave Chaske. + Far south has he followed the bison-trail + With his band of warriors so brave and true. + Right glad is Wakawa his friend to hail, + And Wiwaste will find her a way to woo. + + Tall and straight as the larch tree stood + The manly form of the brave young chief, + And fair as the larch in its vernal leaf, + When the red fawn bleats in the feathering wood. + Mild was his face as the morning skies, + And friendship shone in his laughing eyes; + But swift were his feet o'er the drifted snow + On the trail of the elk or the buffalo; + And his heart was stouter than lance or bow, + When he heard the whoop of his enemies. + Five feathers he wore of the great Wanmdee, + And each for the scalp of a warrior slain, + When down on his camp from the northern plain, + With their murder cries rode the bloody Cree. [35] + But never the stain of an infant slain, + Or the blood of a mother that plead in vain, + Soiled the honored plumes of the brave Hohe. + A mountain bear to his enemies, + To his friends like the red fawn's dappled form; + In peace, like the breeze from the summer seas; + In war, like the roar of the mountain storm. + His fame in the voice of the winds went forth + From his hunting grounds in the happy north, + And far as the shores of the Great Mede [36] + The nations spoke of the brave Chaske. + + Dark was the visage of grim Red Cloud, + Fierce were the eyes of the warrior proud, + When the chief to his lodge led the brave Chaske, + And Wiwaste smiled on the tall Hohe. + Away he strode with a sullen frown, + And alone in his teepee he sat him down. + From the gladsome greeting of braves he stole, + And wrapped himself in his gloomy soul. + But the eagle eyes of the Harpstina + The clouded face of the warrior saw. + Softly she spoke to the sullen brave: + "Mah-pi-ya Duta,--his face is sad. + And why is the warrior so glum and grave? + For the fair Wiwaste is gay and glad. + She will sit in the teepee the live-long day, + And laugh with her lover--the brave Hohe. + Does the tall Red Cloud for the false one sigh? + There are fairer maidens than she, and proud + Were their hearts to be loved by the brave Red Cloud. + And trust not the chief with the smiling eyes; + His tongue is swift, but his words are lies; + And the proud Mah-pi-ya will surely find + That Wakawa's promise is hollow wind. + Last night I stood by his lodge, and lo + I heard the voice of the Little Crow; + But the fox is sly and his words were low. + But I heard her answer her father--"Never! + I will stain your knife in my heart's red blood, + I will plunge and sink in the sullen river, + Ere I will be wife to the fierce Red Cloud!" + Then he spake again, and his voice was low, + But I heard the answer of Little Crow: + "Let it be as you will, for Wakawa's tongue + Has spoken no promise,--his lips are slow, + And the love of a father is deep and strong." + + Mah-pi-ya Duta, they scorn your love, + But the false chief covets the warrior's gifts. + False to his promise the fox will prove, + And fickle as snow in Wo-ka-da-wee, [37] + That slips into brooks when the gray cloud lifts, + Or the red sun looks through the ragged rifts. + Mah-pi-ya Duta will listen to me + There are fairer birds in the bush than she, + And the fairest would gladly be Red Cloud's wife. + Will the warrior sit like a girl bereft, + When fairer and truer than she are left + That love Red Cloud as they love their life? + Mah-pi-ya Duta will listen to me + I love him well,--I have loved him long: + A woman is weak, but a warrior is strong, + And a lovelorn brave is a scorn to see. + + Mah-pi-ya Duta, O listen to me! + Revenge is swift and revenge is strong, + And sweet as the hive in the hollow tree. + The proud Red Cloud will revenge his wrong + Let the brave be patient, it is not long + Till the leaves be green on the maple tree, + And the Feast of the Virgins is then to be;-- + The Feast of the Virgins is then to be!" + + Proudly she turned from the silent brave, + And went her way; but the warrior's eyes-- + They flashed with the flame of a sudden fire, + Like the lights that gleam in the Sacred Cave, [38] + When the black night covers the autumn skies, + And the stars from their welkin watch retire. + + Three nights he tarried--the brave Chaske; + Winged were the hours and they flitted away; + On the wings of Wakandee [39] they silently flew, + For Wiwaste had found her a way to woo. + Ah, little he cared for the bison-chase; + For the red lilies bloomed on the fair maid's face; + Ah, little he cared for the winds that blew, + For Wiwaste had found her a way to woo. + Brown-bosomed she sat on her fox-robe dark, + Her ear to the tales of the brave inclined, + Or tripped from the tee like the song of a lark, + And gathered her hair from the wanton wind. + Ah, little he thought of the leagues of snow + He trode on the trail of the buffalo; + And little he recked of the hurricanes + That swept the snow from the frozen plains + And piled the banks of the Bloody River. [40] + His bow unstrung and forgotten hung + With his beaver hood and his otter quiver; + He sat spell-bound by the artless grace + Of her star-lit eyes and her moon-lit face. + Ah, little he cared for the storms that blew, + For Wiwaste had found her a way to woo. + When he spoke with Wakawa her sidelong eyes + Sought the handsome chief in his hunter-guise. + Wakawa marked, and the lilies fair + On her round cheeks spread to her raven hair. + They feasted on rib of the bison fat, + On the tongue of the Ta [41] that the hunters prize, + On the savory flesh of the red Hogan, [42] + On sweet tipsanna [43] and pemmican, + And the dun-brown cakes of the golden maize; + And hour after hour the young chief sat, + And feasted his soul on the maiden's eyes. + + The sweeter the moments the swifter they fly; + Love takes no account of the fleeting hours; + He walks in a dream mid the blooming of flowers, + And never awakes till the blossoms die. + Ah, lovers are lovers the wide world over-- + In the hunter's lodge and the royal palace. + Sweet are the lips of his love to the lover,-- + Sweet as new wine in a golden chalice, + From the Tajo's [44] slopes or the hills beyond; + And blindly he sips from his loved one's lips, + In lodge or palace the wide world over, + The maddening honey of Trebizond. [45] + + O, what are leagues to the loving hunter, + Or the blinding drift of the hurricane, + When it raves and roars o'er the frozen plain! + He would face the storm,--he would death encounter + The darling prize of his heart to gain. + But his hunters chafed at the long delay, + For the swarthy bison were far away, + And the brave young chief from the lodge departed. + He promised to come with the robin in May, + With the bridal gifts for the bridal day; + And the fair Wiwaste was happy-hearted, + For Wakawa promised the brave Chaske. + + Birds of a feather will flock together. + The robin sings to his ruddy mate, + And the chattering jays, in the winter weather, + To prate and gossip will congregate; + And the cawing crows on the autumn heather, + Like evil omens, will flock together, + In extra-session, for high debate; + And the lass will slip from a doting mother + To hang with her lad on the garden gate. + Birds of a feather will flock together,-- + 'Tis an adage old,--it is nature's law, + And sure as the pole will the needle draw, + The fierce Red Cloud with the flaunting feather, + Will follow the finger of Harpstina. + + The winter wanes and the south-wind blows + From the Summer Islands legendary. + The skeskas [46] fly and the melted snows + In lakelets lie on the dimpled prairie. + The frost-flowers [47] peep from their winter sleep + Under the snow-drifts cold and deep. + + To the April sun and the April showers, + In field and forest, the baby flowers + Lift their golden faces and azure eyes; + And wet with the tears of the winter-fairies, + Soon bloom and blossom the emerald prairies, + Like the fabled Garden of Paradise. + + The plum-trees, white with their bloom in May, + Their sweet perfume on the vernal breeze + Wide strew like the isles of the tropic seas, + Where the paroquet chatters the livelong day. + But the May-days pass and the brave Chaske-- + O, why does the lover so long delay? + Wiwaste waits in the lonely tee, + Has her fair face fled from his memory? + For the robin cherups his mate to please, + The blue bird pipes in the poplar trees, + The meadow lark warbles his jubilees, + Shrilling his song in the azure seas, + Till the welkin throbs to his melodies; + And low is the hum of the humble bees, + And the Feast of the Virgins is now to be. + + + +THE FEAST OF THE VIRGINS. + + + The sun sails high in his azure realms; + Beneath the arch of the breezy elms + The feast is spread by the murmuring river. + With his battle spear and his bow and quiver, + And eagle plumes in his ebon hair, + The chief Wakawa himself is there; + And round the feast in the Sacred Ring, [48] + Sit his weaponed warriors witnessing. + Not a morsel of food have the Virgins tasted + For three long days ere the holy feast; + They sat in their teepee alone and fasted, + Their faces turned to the Sacred East. [21] + In the polished bowls lies the golden maize + And the flesh of fawn on the polished trays. + For the Virgins the bloom of the prairies wide-- + The blushing pink and the meek blue-bell, + The purple plumes of the prairie's pride, [49] + The wild, uncultured asphodel, + And the beautiful, blue-eyed violet + That the Virgins call "Let-me-not-forget," + In gay festoons and garlands twine + With the cedar sprigs [50] and the wildwood vine. + So gaily the Virgins are decked and dressed, + And none but a virgin may enter there; + And clad is each in a scarlet vest, + And a fawn skin frock to the brown calves bare. + Wild rosebuds peep from their flowing hair, + And a rose half-blown on the budding breast; + And bright with the quills of the porcupine + The moccasined feet of the maidens shine. + + Hand in hand round the feast they dance, + And sing to the notes of a rude bassoon, + And never a pause or a dissonance + In the merry dance or the merry tune. + Brown-bosomed and fair as the rising moon, + When she peeps o'er the hills of the dewy east, + Wiwaste sings at the Virgins Feast; + And bright is the light in her luminous eyes; + They glow like the stars in the winter skies; + And the lilies that bloom in her virgin heart + Their golden blush to her cheeks impart-- + Her cheeks half hid in her midnight hair. + Fair is her form--as the red fawn's fair, + And long is the flow of her raven hair; + It falls to her knees, and it streams on the breeze + Like the path of a storm on the swelling seas. + + Proud of their rites are the Virgins fair, + For none but a Virgin may enter there. + 'Tis a custom of old and a sacred thing; + Nor rank nor beauty the warriors spare, + If a tarnished maiden should enter there. + And her that enters the Sacred Ring + With a blot that is known or a secret stain + The warrior who knows is bound to expose, + And lead her forth from the ring again. + And the word of the warrior is a sacred by law; + For the Virgins' Feast is a sacred thing. + Aside with the mothers sat Harpstina: + She durst not enter the virgins' ring. + + Round and round to the merry song + The maidens dance in their gay attire. + While the loud "Ho-Ho's" of the tawny throng + Their flying feet and their song inspire. + They have finished the song and the sacred dance, + And hand in hand to the feast advance-- + To the polished bowls of the golden maize, + And the sweet fawn meat in the polished trays. + + Then up from his seat in the silent crowd + Rose the frowning, fierce-eyed, tall Red Cloud; + Swift was his stride as the panther's spring, + When he leaps on the fawn from his cavern lair; + Wiwaste he caught by her flowing hair, + And dragged her forth from the Sacred Ring. + She turned on the warrior. Her eyes flashed fire; + Her proud lips quivered with queenly ire; + Her hand to the Spirits she raised and said, + And her sun browned cheeks were aflame with red: + "I am pure!--I am pure as falling snow! + Great Taku-Skan-Skan [51] will testify! + And dares the tall coward to say me no?" + But the sullen warrior made no reply. + She turned to the chief with her frantic cries: + "Wakawa--my Father; he lies!--he lies! + Wiwaste is pure as the faun unborn; + Lead me back to the feast, or Wiwaste dies!" + But the warriors uttered a cry of scorn, + And he turned his face from her pleading eyes. + + Then the sullen warrior, the tall Red Cloud, + Looked up and spoke and his voice was loud; + But he held his wrath and spoke with care: + "Wiwaste is young, she is proud and fair, + But she may not boast of the virgin snows. + The Virgins Feast is a Sacred thing: + How durst she enter the Virgins ring? + The warrior would fain, but he dares not spare; + She is tarnished and only the Red Cloud knows." + + She clutched her hair in her clenched hand: + She stood like statue bronzed and grand: + Wakan-dee [39] flashed in her fiery eyes; + Then, swift as the meteor cleaves the skies-- + Nay, swift as the fiery Wakinyan's dart, [32] + She snatch the knife from the warriors belt, + And plunged it clean to the polished hilt-- + With deadly cry--in the villain's heart. + Staggering he clutched the air and fell; + His life-blood smoked on the trampled sand, + And dripped from the knife in the virgin's hand. + Then rose his kinsmen's savage yell. + Swift as the doe's Wiwaste's feet + Fled away to the forest. The hunters fleet + In vain pursue, and in vain they prowl, + And lurk in the forest till dawn of day. + They hear the hoot of the mottled owl; + They hear the were-wolf's [52] winding howl; + But the swift Wiwaste is far away. + They found no trace in the forest land, + They found no trail in the dew-damp grass, + They found no track in the river sand, + Where they thought Wiwaste would surely pass. + + The braves returned to the troubled chief; + In his lodge he sat in his silent grief. + "Surely," they said, "she has turned a spirit. + No trail she left with her flying feet; + No pathway leads to her far retreat. + She flew in the air, and her wail--we could hear it, + As she upward rose to the shining stars; + And we heard on the river, as we stood near it, + The falling drops of Wiwaste's tears." + + Wakawa thought of his daughter's words + Ere the south-wind came and the piping birds-- + "My Father, listen,--my words are true," + And sad was her voice as the whippowil + When she mourns her mate by the moon-lit rill, + "Wiwaste lingers alone with you; + The rest are sleeping on yonder hill-- + Save one--and he an undutiful son,-- + And you, my Father, will sit alone + When Sisoka [53] sings and the snow is gone." + His broad breast heaved on his troubled soul, + The shadow of grief o'er his visage stole + Like a cloud on the face of the setting sun. + + "She has followed the years that are gone," he said; + "The spirits the words of the witch fulfill; + For I saw the ghost of my father dead, + By the moon's dim light on the misty hill. + He shook the plumes on his withered head, + And the wind through his pale form whistled shrill. + And a low, sad voice on the hill I heard. + Like the mournful wail of a widowed bird." + Then lo, as he looked from his lodge afar, + He saw the glow of the Evening-star; + "And yonder," he said, "is Wiwaste's face; + She looks from her lodge on our fading race. + Devoured by famine, and fraud, and war, + And chased and hounded from woe to woe, + As the white wolves follow the buffalo." + And he named the planet the _Virgin Star_. [54] + + "Wakawa," he muttered, "the guilt is thine! + She was pure,--she was pure as the fawn unborn. + O, why did I hark to the cry of scorn, + Or the words of the lying libertine? + Wakawa, Wakawa, the guilt is thine! + The springs will return with the voice of birds, + But the voice of my daughter will come no more. + + She wakened the woods with her musical words, + And the sky-lark, ashamed of his voice, forbore. + She called back the years that had passed, and long + I heard their voice in her happy song. + Her heart was the home of the sunbeam. Bright + Poured the stream of her song on the starry night. + O, why did the chief of the tall Hohe + His feet from Kapoza [6] so long delay? + For his father sat at my father's feast, + And he at Wakawa's--an honored guest. + He is dead!--he is slain on the Bloody Plain, + By the hand of the treacherous Chippeway; + And the face shall I never behold again + Of my brave young brother--the chief Chaske. + Death walks like a shadow among my kin; + And swift are the feet of the flying years + That cover Wakawa with frost and tears, + And leave their tracks on his wrinkled skin. + Wakawa, the voice of the years that are gone + Will follow thy feet like the shadow of death, + Till the paths of the forest and desert lone + Shall forget thy footsteps. O living breath, + Whence art thou, and whither so soon to fly? + And whence are the years? Shall I overtake + Their flying feet in the star-lit sky? + From his last long sleep will the warrior wake? + Will the morning break in Wakawa's tomb, + As it breaks and glows in the eastern skies? + Is it true?--will the spirits of kinsmen come + And bid the bones of the brave arise?" + + "Wakawa, Wakawa, for thee the years + Are red with blood and bitter with tears. + Gone,--brothers, and daughters, and wife,--all gone + That are kin to Wakawa,--but one--but one-- + Wakinyan Tanka--undutiful son! + And he estranged from his fathers tee, + Will never return till the chief shall die. + And what cares he for his father's grief? + He will smile at my death,--it will make him chief. + Woe burns in my bosom. Ho, Warriors,--Ho! + Raise the song of red war; for your chief must go + To drown his grief in the blood of the foe! + I shall fall. Raise my mound on the sacred hill. + Let my warriors the wish of their chief fulfill; + For my fathers sleep in the sacred ground. + The Autumn blasts o'er Wakawa's mound + Shall chase the hair of the thistle's head, + And the bare armed oak o'er the silent dead. + When the whirling snows from the north descend, + Shall wail and moan in the midnight wind. + In the famine of winter the wolf shall prowl, + And scratch the snow from the heap of stones, + And sit in the gathering storm and howl, + On the frozen mound, for Wakawa's bones. + But the years that are gone shall return again. + As the robin returns and the whippowil + When my warriors stand on the sacred hill + And remember the deeds of their brave chief slain." + + Beneath the glow of the Virgin Star + They raised the song of the red war dance. + At the break of dawn with the bow and lance + They followed the chief on the path of war. + To the north--to the forests of fir and pine-- + Led their stealthy steps on the winding trail, + Till they saw the Lake of the Spirit [55] shine + Through somber pines of the dusky dale. + + Then they heard the hoot of the mottled owl; [56] + They heard the gray wolf's dismal howl; + Then shrill and sudden the war whoop rose + From an hundred throats of their swarthy foes, + In ambush crouched in the tangled wood. + Death shrieked in the twang of their deadly bows, + And their hissing arrows drank brave men's blood. + From rock, and thicket, and brush, and brakes, + Gleamed the burning eyes of the forest snakes. [57] + From brake, and thicket, and brush, and stone, + The bow string hummed and the arrow hissed, + And the lance of a crouching Ojibway shone, + Or the scalp-knife gleamed in a swarthy fist. + Undaunted the braves of Wakawa's band + Jumped into the thicket with lance and knife, + And grappled the Chippewas hand to hand; + And foe with foe, in the deadly strife, + Lay clutching the scalp of his foe and dead, + With a tomahawk sunk in his ghastly head, + Or his still heart sheathing a bloody blade. + Like a bear in the battle Wakawa raves, + And cheers the hearts of his falling braves. + But a panther crouches along his track,-- + He springs with a yell on Wakawa's back! + + The tall Chief, stabbed to the heart, lies low; + But his left hand clutches his deadly foe, + And his red right clenches the bloody hilt + Of his knife in the heart of the slayer dyed. + And thus was the life of Wakawa spilt, + And slain and slayer lay side by side. + The unscalped corpse of their honored chief + His warriors snatched from the yelling pack, + And homeward fled on their forest track + With their bloody burden and load of grief. + + The spirits the words of the brave fulfill,-- + Wakawa sleeps on the sacred hill, + And Wakinyan Tanka, his son, is chief. + Ah, soon shall the lips of men forget + Wakawa's name, and the mound of stone + Will speak of the dead to the winds alone, + And the winds will whistle their mock-regret. + + The speckled cones of the scarlet berries [58] + Lie red and ripe in the prairie grass. + The Si-yo [59] clucks on the emerald prairies + To her infant brood. From the wild morass, + On the sapphire lakelet set within it, + Maga [60] sails forth with her wee ones daily. + They ride on the dimpling waters gaily, + Like a fleet of yachts and a man of war. + The piping plover, the laughing linnet, + And the swallow sail in the sunset skies. + The whippowil from her cover hies, + And trills her song on the amber air. + + Anon, to her loitering mate she cries + "Flip, O Will!--trip, O Will!--skip, O Will!" + And her merry mate from afar replies: + "Flip I will,--skip I will,--trip I will;" + And away on the wings of the wind he flies. + And bright from her lodge in the skies afar + Peeps the glowing face of the Virgin Star. + The fox pups [60] creep from the mother's lair + And leap in the light of the rising moon; + And loud on the luminous moonlit lake + Shrill the bugle notes of the lover loon; + And woods and waters and welkin break + Into jubilant song,--it is joyful June. + + But where is Wiwaste? O where is she-- + The Virgin avenged--the queenly queen-- + The womanly woman--the heroine? + Has she gone to the spirits and can it be + That her beautiful face is the Virgin Star + Peeping out from the door of her lodge afar, + Or upward sailing the silver sea. + Star-beaconed and lit like an avenue, + In the shining stern of her gold canoe? + No tidings came--nor the brave Chaske: + O, why did the lover so long delay? + He promised to come with the robins in May, + With the bridal gifts for the bridal day; + But the fair May mornings have slipped away, + And where is the lover--the brave Chaske? + + But what of the venomous Harpstina-- + The serpent that tempted the proud Red Cloud, + And kindled revenge in his savage soul? + He paid for his crime with his false heart's blood, + But his angry spirit has brought her dole; [61] + It has entered her breast and her burning head, + And she raves and burns on her fevered bed. + "He is dead! He is dead!" is her wailing cry. + "And the blame is mine,--it was I,--it was I! + I hated Wiwaste, for she was fair, + And my brave was caught in her net of hair. + I turned his love to a bitter hate; + I nourished revenge, and I pricked his pride; + Till the Feast of the Virgins I bade him wait. + He had his revenge, but he died,--he died! + And the blame is mine,--it was I,--it was I! + And his spirit burns me, I die,--I die!" + Thus, alone in her lodge and her agonies, + She wails to the winds of the night, and dies. + + But where is Wiwaste? Her swift feet flew + To the somber shades of the tangled thicket. + She hid in the copse like a wary cricket, + And the fleetest hunters in vain pursue. + Seeing unseen from her hiding place, + She sees them fly on the hurried chase; + She sees their fierce eyes glance and dart, + As they pass and peer for a track or trace, + And she trembles with fear in the copse apart. + Lest her nest be betrayed by her throbbing heart. + + [Illustration] + + Weary the hours; but the sun at last + Went down to his lodge in the west, and fast + The wings of the spirits of night were spread + O'er the darkling woods and Wiwaste's head. + Then, slyly she slipped from her snug retreat, + And guiding her course by Waziya's star, [62] + That shone through the shadowy forms afar, + She northward hurried with silent feet; + And long ere the sky was aflame in the east, + She was leagues from the place of the fatal feast. + 'Twas the hoot of the owl that the hunters heard, + And the scattering drops of the threat'ning shower, + And the far wolf's cry to the moon preferred. + Their ears were their fancies,--the scene was weird, + And the witches [63] dance at the midnight hour. + She leaped the brook and she swam the river; + Her course through the forest Wiwaste wist + By the star that gleamed through the glimmering mist + That fell from the dim moon's downy quiver. + In her heart she spoke to her spirit-mother: + "Look down from your teepee, O starry spirit. + The cry of Wiwaste, O mother, hear it; + And touch the heart of my cruel father. + He hearkened not to a virgin's words; + He listened not to a daughter's wail. + O give me the wings of the thunder-birds, + For his were-wolves [52] follow Wiwaste's trail; + O, guide my flight to the far Hohe-- + The sheltering lodge of my brave Chaske." + + The shadows paled in the hazy east, + And the light of the kindling morn increased. + The pale-faced stars fled one by one, + And hid in the vast from the rising sun. + From woods and waters and welkin soon + Fled the hovering mists of the vanished moon. + The young robins chirped in their feathery beds, + The loon's song shrilled like a winding horn, + And the green hills lifted their dewy heads + To greet the god of the rising morn. + + She reached the rim of the rolling prairie-- + The boundless ocean of solitude; + She hid in the feathery hazel wood, + For her heart was sick and her feet were weary; + She fain would rest, and she needed food. + Alone by the billowy, boundless prairies, + She plucked the cones of the scarlet berries; + In feathering copse and the grassy field + She found the bulbs of the young Tipsanna, [43] + And the sweet medo [64] that the meadows yield. + With the precious gift of his priceless manna + God fed his fainting and famished child. + + At night again to the northward far + She followed the torch of Waziya's star. + For leagues away o'er the prairies green, + On the billowy vast, may a man be seen, + When the sun is high and the stars are low; + And the sable breast of the strutting crow + Looms up like the form of the buffalo. + The Bloody River [40] she reached at last, + And boldly walked in the light of day, + On the level plain of the valley vast; + Nor thought of the terrible Chippeway. + She was safe from the wolves of her father's band, + But she trode on the treacherous "Bloody Land." + And lo--from afar o'er the level plain-- + As far as the sails of a ship at sea + May be seen as they lift from the rolling main-- + A band of warriors rode rapidly. + She shadowed her eyes with her sun browned hand; + All backward streamed on the wind her hair, + And terror spread o'er her visage fair, + As she bent her brow to the far off band. + For she thought of the terrible Chippeway-- + The fiends that the babe and the mother slay; + And yonder they came in their war-array! + She hid like a grouse in the meadow-grass, + And moaned--"I am lost!--I am lost! alas; + And why did I fly my native land + To die by the cruel Ojibway's hand?" + And on rode the braves. She could hear the steeds + Come galloping on o'er the level meads; + And lowly she crouched in the waving grass, + And hoped against hope that the braves would pass. + + They have passed, she is safe,--she is safe! Ah, no, + They have struck her trail and the hunters halt. + Like wolves on the track of the bleeding doe, + That grappled breaks from the dread assault, + Dash the warriors wild on Wiwaste's trail. + She flies,--but what can her flight avail? + Her feet are fleet, but the flying feet + Of the steeds of the prairie are fleeter still; + And where can she fly for a safe retreat? + + But hark to the shouting:--"Iho!--Iho!" [9] + Rings over the wide plain sharp and shrill. + She halts, and the hunters come riding on; + But the horrible fear from her heart is gone, + For it is not the shout of the dreaded foe; + 'Tis the welcome shout of her native land! + + Up galloped the chief of the band, and lo-- + The clutched knife dropped from her trembling hand; + She uttered a cry and she swooned away; + For there; on his steed in the blaze of day, + On the boundless prairie, so far away, + With his burnished lance and his feathers gay, + Sat the manly form of her own Chaske! + + There's a mote in my eye or a blot on the page, + And I cannot tell of the joyful greeting; + You may take it for granted and I will engage, + There were kisses and tears at the strange, glad meeting; + For aye since the birth of the swift-winged years, + In the desert drear, in the field of clover, + In the cot, and the palace, and all the world over,-- + Yea, away on the stars to the ultimate spheres, + The language of love to the long sought lover,-- + Is tears and kisses and kisses and tears. + + But why did the lover so long delay? + And whitherward rideth the chief to-day? + As he followed the trail of the buffalo, + From the tees of Kapoza a maiden, lo, + Came running in haste o'er the drifted snow. + She spoke to the chief of the tall Hohe: + "Wiwaste requests that the brave Chaske + Will abide with his band and his coming delay + 'Till the moon when the strawberries are ripe and red, + And then will the chief and Wiwaste wed-- + When the Feast of the Virgins is past," she said. + Wiwaste's wish was her lover's law; + And so his coming the chief delayed + Till the mid-May blossoms should bloom and fade,-- + But the lying runner was Harpstina. + And now with the gifts for the bridal day + And his chosen warriors he took his way, + And followed his heart to his moon-faced maid, + And thus was the lover so long delayed; + And so as he rode with his warriors gay, + On that bright and beautiful summer day, + His bride he met on the trail mid-way, + By the haunts of the treacherous Chippeway. + + God arms the innocent. He is there-- + In the desert vast, in the wilderness, + On the bellowing sea, in the lion's lair, + In the midst of battle, and everywhere. + In his hand he holds with a father's care + The tender hearts of the motherless; + The maid and the mother in sore distress + He shields with his love and his tenderness; + He comforts the widowed--the comfortless, + And sweetens her chalice of bitterness; + He clothes the naked--the numberless,-- + His charity covers their nakedness,-- + And he feeds the famished and fatherless + With the hand that feedeth the birds of air. + Let the myriad tongues of the earth confess + His infinite love and his holiness; + For his pity pities the pitiless, + His wayward children his bounties bless, + And his mercy flows to the merciless; + And the countless worlds in the realms above, + Revolve in the light of his boundless love. + + And what of the lovers? you ask, I trow. + She told him all ere the sun was low,-- + Why she fled from the Feast to a safe retreat. + She laid her heart at her lover's feet, + And her words were tears and her lips were slow. + As she sadly related the bitter tale + His face was aflame and anon grew pale, + And his dark eyes flashed with a brave desire, + Like the midnight gleam of the sacred fire. [65] + "Mitawin," [66] he said, and his voice was low, + "Thy father no more is the false Little Crow; + But the fairest plume shall Wiwaste wear + Of the great Wanmdee [13] in her midnight hair. + In my lodge, in the land of the tall Hohe, + The robins will sing all the long summer day + To the beautiful bride of the brave Chaske." + + Aye, love is tested by stress and trial + Since the finger of time on the endless dial + Began its rounds, and the orbs to move + In the boundless vast, and the sunbeams clove + The chaos; but only by fate's denial + Are fathomed the fathomless depths of love. + Man is the rugged and wrinkled oak, + And woman the trusting and tender vine-- + That clasps and climbs till its arms entwine + The brawny arms of the sturdy stoke. [67] + The dimpled babes are the flowers divine + That the blessing of God on the vine and oak + With their cooing and blossoming lips invoke. + + To the pleasant land of the brave Hohe + Wiwaste rode with her proud Chaske. + She ruled like a queen in his bountiful tee, + And the life of the twain was a jubilee. + Their wee ones climbed on the father's knee, + And played with his plumes of the great Wanmdee. + The silken threads of the happy years + They wove into beautiful robes of love + That the spirits wear in the lodge above; + And time from the reel of the rolling spheres + His silver threads with the raven wove; + But never the stain of a mother's tears + Soiled the shining web of their happy years. + + When the wrinkled mask of the years they wore, + And the raven hair of their youth was gray, + Their love grew deeper, and more and more; + For he was a lover for aye and aye, + And ever her beautiful, brave Chaske. + Through the wrinkled mask of the hoary years + To the loving eyes of the lover aye + The blossom of beautiful youth appears. + + At last, when their locks were as white as snow, + Beloved and honored by all the band, + They silently slipped from their lodge below, + And walked together, and hand in hand, + O'er the Shining Path [68] to the Spirit-land; + Where the hills and the meadows for aye and aye + Are clad with the verdure and flowers of May, + And the unsown prairies of Paradise + Yield the golden maize and the sweet wild rice. + There ever ripe in the groves and prairies + Hang the purple plums and the luscious berries. + And the swarthy herds of bison feed + On the sun-lit slope and the waving mead; + The dappled fawns from their coverts peep, + And countless flocks on the waters sleep; + And the silent years with their fingers trace + No furrows for aye on the hunter's face. + + +[Illustration] + + + + +WINONA. + + +[Illustration: FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY. FACSIMILE OF THE CUT IN CARVER'S +TRAVELS, PUBLISHED AT LONDON, IN 1778, FROM A SURVEY AND SKETCH MADE +BY CAPT. J. CARVER, NOV. 17, 1766. PERPENDICULAR FALL, 30 FEET; BREADTH +NEAR 600 FEET.] + + + _When the meadow-lark trilled o'er the leas + and the oriole piped in the maples, + From my hammock, all under the trees, + by the sweet scented field of red-clover, + I harked to the hum of the bees, + as they gathered the mead of the blossoms, + And caught from their low melodies + the rhythm of the song of Winona_. + +(In pronouncing Dakota words give "a" the sound of "ah,"--"e" the sound +of "a,"--"i" the sound of "e" and "u" the sound of "oo." Sound "ee" +the same as in English. The numerals 1-2 etc. refer to notes in the +appendix). + + + Two hundred white Winters and more + have fled from the face of the Summer, + Since here on the oak shaded shore + of the dark winding swift Mississippi, + Where his foaming floods tumble and roar, + on the falls and white rolling rapids, + In the fair, fabled center of Earth, + sat the Indian town of Ka-tha-ga. [86] + Far rolling away to the north, and the south, + lay the emerald prairies, + Alternate with woodlands and lakes, + and above them the blue vast of ether. + And here where the dark river breaks into spray + and the roar of the Ha-Ha, [76] + Were gathered the bison-skin tees + of the chief tawny tribe of Dakotas; + For here, in the blast and the breeze, + flew the flag of the chief of Isantees, [86] + Up-raised on the stem of a lance + --the feathery flag of the eagle. + And here to the feast and the dance, + from the prairies remote and the forests, + Oft gathered the out-lying bands, + and honored the gods of the nation. + On the islands and murmuring strands + they danced to the god of the waters, + Unktehee, [69] who dwelt in the caves + deep under the flood of the Ha-Ha; [76] + And high o'er the eddies and waves + hung their offerings of fur and tobacco. [a] + And here to the Master of life + --Anpe-tu-wee, [70] god of the heavens, + Chief, warrior, and maiden, and wife, + burned the sacred green sprigs of the cedar. + And here to the Searcher-of-hearts + --fierce Ta-ku Skan-skan, [51] the avenger, + Who dwells in the uttermost parts + --in the earth and the blue, starry ether, + Ever watching, with all-seeing eyes, + the deeds of the wives and the warriors, + As an osprey afar in the skies, + sees the fish as they swim in the waters, + Oft spread they the bison-tongue feast, + and singing preferred their petitions, + Till the Day-Spirit [70] rose in the East + --in the red, rosy robes of the morning, + To sail o'er the sea of the skies, + to his lodge in the land of the shadows, + Where the black winged tornadoes [b] arise + --rushing loud from the mouths of their caverns. + And here with a shudder they heard, + flying far from his tee in the mountains, + Wa-kin-yan, [32] the huge Thunder-Bird, + --with the arrows of fire in his talons. + + [a] See Hennepin's Description of Louisiana by Shea pp 243 and + 256. Parkman's Discovery p. 246--and Carver's Travels, p. 67 + + [b] The Dakotas like the ancient Romans and Greeks think the home + of the winds is in the caverns of the mountains, and their great Thunder + bird resembles in many respects the Jupiter of the Romans and the Zeus + of the Greeks. The resemblance of the Dakota mythology to that of the + older Greeks and Romans is striking. + + Two hundred white Winters and more + have fled from the face of the Summer, + Since here by the cataract's roar, + in the moon of the red blooming lilies, [71] + In the tee of Ta-te-psin [a] was born Winona + --wild-rose of the prairies. + Like the summer sun peeping, at morn, + o'er the hills was the face of Winona; + And here she grew up like a queen + --a romping and lily-lipped laughter, + And danced on the undulant green, + and played in the frolicsome waters, + Where the foaming tide tumbles and twirls + o'er the murmuring rocks in the rapids; + And whiter than foam were the pearls + that gleamed in the midst of her laughter. + Long and dark was her flowing hair flung, + like the robe of the night to the breezes; + And gay as the robin she sung, + or the gold-breasted lark of the meadows. + Like the wings of the wind were her feet, + and as sure as the feet of Ta-to-ka; [b] + And oft like an antelope fleet + o'er the hills and the prairies she bounded, + Lightly laughing in sport as she ran, + and looking back over her shoulder, + At the fleet footed maiden or man, + that vainly her flying steps followed. + The belle of the village was she, + and the pride of the aged Ta-te-psin, + Like a sunbeam she lighted his tee, + and gladdened the heart of her father. + + [a] Ta te--Wind, Psin--Wild Rice,--wild rice wind. + + [b] The Mountain Antelope. + + In the golden hued Wazu-pe-wee + --the moon when the wild rice is gathered; + When the leaves on the tall sugar-tree + are as red as the breast of the robin, + And the red-oaks that border the lea + are aflame with the fire of the sunset, + From the wide waving fields of wild-rice + --from the meadows of Psin-ta-wak-pa-dan, [a] + Where the geese and the mallards rejoice, + and grow fat on the bountiful harvest, + Came the hunters with saddles of moose + and the flesh of the bear and the bison, + And the women in birchen canoes + well laden with rice from the meadows, + With the tall, dusky hunters, behold, + came a marvelous man or a spirit, + White-faced and so wrinkled and old, + and clad in the robe of the raven. + Unsteady his steps were and slow, + and he walked with a staff in his right hand, + And white as the first-falling snow + were the thin locks that lay on his shoulders. + Like rime-covered moss hung his beard, + flowing down from his face to his girdle; + And wan was his aspect and weird; + and often he chanted and mumbled + In a strange and mysterious tongue, + as he bent o'er his book in devotion. + Or lifted his dim eyes and sung, + in a low voice, the solemn "_Te Deum_." + Or Latin, or Hebrew, or Greek + --all the same were his words to the warriors,-- + All the same to the maids + and the meek, wide-wondering-eyed, hazel-brown children. + + [a] Little Rice River. It bears the name of Rice Creek to-day + and empties into the Mississippi from the east, a few miles above + Minneapolis. + + Father Rene Menard [a]--it was he, + long lost to his Jesuit brothers, + Sent forth by an holy decree + to carry the Cross to the heathen. + In his old age abandoned to die, + in the swamps, by his timid companions, + He prayed to the Virgin on high, + and she led him forth from the forest; + For angels she sent him as men + --in the forms of the tawny Dakotas, + And they led his feet from the fen, + --from the slough of despond and the desert. + Half-dead in a dismal morass, + as they followed the red-deer they found him, + In the midst of the mire and the grass, + and mumbling "_Te Deum laudamus_." + "Unktomee [72]--Ho!" muttered the braves, + for they deemed him the black Spider-Spirit + That dwells in the drearisome caves, + and walks on the marshes at midnight, + With a flickering torch in his hand, + to decoy to his den the unwary. + His tongue could they not understand, + but his torn hands all shriveled with famine, + He stretched to the hunters and said: + "He feedeth his chosen with manna; + And ye are the angels of God, + sent to save me from death in the desert." + His famished and woe-begone face, + and his tones touched the hearts of the hunters; + They fed the poor father apace, + and they led him away to Ka-tha-ga. + + [a] See the account of Father Menard, his mission and disappearance in the + wilderness, etc. Neill's Hist. Minnesota, pp 104 to 107 inc. + + There little by little he learned + the tongue of the tawny Dakotas; + And the heart of the good father yearned + to lead them away from their idols-- + Their giants [16] and dread Thunder-birds + --their worship of stones [73] and the devil. + "Wakan-de!" [a] they answered his words, + for he read from his book in the Latin, + Lest the Nazarene's holy commands + by his tongue should be marred in translation; + And oft with his beads in his hands, + or the cross and the crucified Jesus, + He knelt by himself on the sands, + and his dim eyes uplifted to heaven. + But the braves bade him look to the East + --to the silvery lodge of Han-nan-na; [b] + And to dance with the chiefs at the feast + --at the feast of the Giant Heyo-ka. [16] + They frowned when the good father + spurned the flesh of the dog in the kettle, + And laughed when his fingers were burned + in the hot, boiling pot of the giant. + "The Blackrobe" they called the poor priest, + from the hue of his robe and his girdle; + And never a game or a feast + but the father must grace with his presence. + His prayer book the hunters revered, + --they deemed it a marvelous spirit; + It spoke and the white father heard, + --it interpreted visions and omens. + And often they bade him + to pray this marvelous spirit to answer, + And tell where the sly Chippeway might be ambushed + and slain in his forests. + For Menard was the first in the land, + proclaiming, like John in the desert-- + "The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand; + repent ye, and turn from your idols."-- + The first of the brave brotherhood that, + threading the fens and the forest, + Stood afar by the turbulent flood + at the falls of the Father of Waters. + + [a] It is wonderful. + + [b] The morning. + + In the lodge of the Stranger [a] + he sat awaiting the crown of a martyr; + His sad face compassion begat + in the heart of the dark eyed Winona. + Oft she came to the teepee and spoke; + she brought him the tongue of the bison, + Sweet nuts from the hazel and oak, + and flesh of the fawn and the mallard. + Soft hanpa [b] she made for his feet + and leggins of velvety fawn-skin,-- + A blanket of beaver complete, + and a hood of the hide of the otter. + And oft at his feet on the mat, + deftly braiding the flags and the rushes, + Till the sun sought his teepee she sat, + enchanted with what he related + Of the white winged ships on the sea + and the teepees far over the ocean, + Of the love and the sweet charity of the Christ + and the beautiful Virgin. + + [a] A lodge set apart for guests of the village. + + [b] Moccasins. + + She listened like one in a trance + when he spoke of the brave, bearded Frenchmen, + From the green sun-lit valleys of France + to the wild Hochelaga [a] transplanted, + Oft trailing the deserts of snow + in the heart of the dense Huron forests, + Or steering the dauntless canoe + through the waves of the fresh water ocean. + "Yea, stronger and braver are they," + said the aged Menard to Winona, + "Than the head-chief, tall Wazi-kute, [74] + but their words are as soft as a maiden's; + Their eyes are the eyes of the swan, + but their hearts are the hearts of the eagles; + And the terrible Maza Wakan [b] ever walks, + by their side like a spirit. + Like a Thunder-bird, roaring in wrath, + flinging fire from his terrible talons, + It sends to their enemies death, + in the flash of the fatal Wakandee." [c] + + [a] The Ottawa name for the region of the St. Lawrence River. + + [b] "Mysterious metal"--or metal having a spirit in it. This is the + common name applied by the Dakotas to all fire arms. + + [c] Lightning. + + The Autumn was past and the snow + lay drifted and deep on the prairies; + From his teepee of ice came the foe + --came the storm-breathing god of the winter. + Then roared in the groves,--on the plains, + --on the ice-covered lakes and the river-- + The blasts of the fierce hurricanes + blown abroad from the breast of Waziya. [3] + The bear cuddled down in his den, + and the elk fled away to the forest; + The pheasant and gray prairie-hen + made their beds in the heart of the snow-drift; + The bison-herds huddled and stood + in the hollows and under the hill-sides; + Or rooted the snow for their food + in the lee of the bluffs and the timber; + And the mad winds that howled from the north, + from the ice-covered seas of Waziya, + Chased the gray wolf and red fox and swarth + to their dens in the hills of the forest. + + Poor Father Menard,--he was ill; + in his breast burned the fire of the fever; + All in vain was the magical skill + of Wicasta Wakan [61] with his rattle; + Into soft child-like slumber he fell, + and awoke in the land of the blessed-- + To the holy applause of "Well done!" + and the harps in the hands of the angels. + Long he carried the cross, + and he won the coveted crown of a martyr. + + In the land of the heathen he died, + meekly following the voice of his Master, + One mourner alone by his side + --Ta-te-psin's compassionate daughter. + She wailed the dead father with tears, + and his bones by her kindred she buried. + Then winter followed winter. + The years sprinkled frost on the head of her father; + And three weary winters she dreamed + of the fearless and fair-bearded Frenchmen; + In her sweet sleep their swift paddles gleamed + on the breast of the broad Mississippi, + And the eyes of the brave strangers beamed + on the maid in the midst of her slumber. + + She lacked not admirers; + the light of the lover oft burned in her teepee-- + At her couch in the midst of the night, + --but she never extinguished the flambeau. + The son of Chief Wazi-kute + --a fearless and eagle plumed warrior-- + Long sighed for Winona, and he + --was the pride of the band of Isantees. + Three times, in the night, at her bed, + had the brave held the torch of the lover, [75]And thrice had she + covered her head + and rejected the handsome Tamdoka. [a] + + [a] Tah-mdo-kah--literally the buck deer. + + 'Twas Summer. The merry voiced birds + trilled and warbled in woodland and meadow; + And abroad on the prairies the herds + cropped the grass in the land of the lilies,-- + And sweet was the odor of rose + wide-wafted from hillside and heather; + In the leaf-shaded lap of repose + lay the bright, blue eyed babes of the summer; + And low was the murmur of brooks + and low was the laugh of the Ha-Ha; [76] + And asleep in the eddies and nooks + lay the broods of maga [60] and the mallard. + 'Twas the moon of Wasunpa. [71] + The band lay at rest in the tees at Ka-tha-ga, + And abroad o'er the beautiful land + walked the spirits of Peace and of Plenty-- + Twin sisters, with bountiful hand, + wide scatt'ring wild rice and the lilies. + An-pe-tu-wee [70] walked in the west + --to his lodge in the midst of the mountains, + And the war eagle flew to her nest + in the oak on the Isle of the Spirit. [a] + And now at the end of the day, + by the shore of the Beautiful Island, [b] + A score of fair maidens and gay + made joy in the midst of the waters. + Half-robed in their dark, flowing hair, + and limbed like the fair Aphrodite, + They played in the waters, + and there they dived and they swam like the beavers,-- + Loud-laughing like loons on the lake + when the moon is a round shield of silver, + And the songs of the whippowils + wake on the shore in the midst of the maples. + + [a] The Dakotas say that for many years in olden times a war-eagle + made her nest in an oak tree on Spirit island--Wanagi-wita just below the + Falls till frightened away by the advent of white men. + + [b] The Dakotas called Nicollet Island "Wi-ta Waste"--the Beautiful Island. + + But hark!--on the river a song, + --strange voices commingled in chorus; + On the current a boat swept along + with DuLuth and his hardy companions; + To the stroke of their paddles they sung, + and this the refrain that they chanted: + + "Dans mon chemin j'ai recontre + Deux cavaliers bien montees. + Lon, lon, laridon daine, + Lon, lon, laridon dai." + + "Deux cavaliers bien montees; + L'un a cheval, et l'autre a pied. + Lon, lon, laridon daine, + Lon, lon, laridon dai." [a] + + Like the red, dappled deer in the glade, + alarmed by the footsteps of hunters, + Discovered, disordered, dismayed, + the nude nymphs fled forth from the waters, + And scampered away to the shade, + and peered from the screen of the lindens. + + [a] A part of one of the favorite songs of the French _voyageurs_. + + A bold and and adventuresome man was DuLuth, + and a dauntless in danger, + And straight to Kathaga he ran, + and boldly advanced to the warriors, + Now gathering, a cloud, on the strand, + and gazing amazed on the strangers; + And straightway he offered his hand + unto Wazi-kute, the Itancan. + To the Lodge of the Stranger were led + DuLuth and his hardy companions; + Robes of beaver and bison were spread, + and the Peace pipe [23] was smoked with the Frenchman. + + There was dancing and feasting at night, + and joy at the presents he lavished. + All the maidens were wild with delight + with the flaming red robes and the ribbons, + With the beads and the trinkets untold, + and the fair, bearded face of the giver; + And glad were they all to behold the friends + from the Land of the Sunrise. + But one stood apart from the rest + --the queenly and peerless Winona, + Intently regarding the guest + --hardly heeding the robes and the ribbons, + Whom the White Chief beholding admired, + and straightway he spread on her shoulders + A lily-red robe and attired, + with necklet and ribbons, the maiden. + The red lilies bloomed in her face, + and her glad eyes gave thanks to the giver, + And forth from her teepee apace + she brought him the robe and the missal + Of the father--poor Rene Menard; + and related the tale of the "Black Robe." + She spoke of the sacred regard + he inspired in the hearts of Dakotas; + That she buried his bones with her kin, + in the mound by the Cave of the Council; + That she treasured and wrapt + in the skin of the red-deer his robe and his prayer-book-- + "Till his brothers should come from the East + --from the land of the far Hochelaga, + To smoke with the braves at the feast, + on the shores of the Loud-laughing Waters. [76] + For the "Black Robe" spake much of his youth + and his friends in the Land of the Sunrise; + It was then as a dream, now in truth, + I behold them, and not in a vision." + But more spake her blushes, I ween, + and her eyes full of language unspoken, + As she turned with the grace of a queen, + and carried her gifts to the teepee. + + Far away from his beautiful France + --from his home in the city of Lyons, + A noble youth full of romance, + with a Norman heart big with adventure, + In the new world a wanderer, by chance, + DuLuth sought the wild Huron forests. + But afar by the vale of the Rhone, + the winding and musical river, + And the vine-covered hills of the Saone, + the heart of the wanderer lingered,-- + 'Mid the vineyards and mulberry trees, + and the fair fields of corn and of clover + That rippled and waved in the breeze, + while the honey-bees hummed in the blossoms + For there, where the impetuous Rhone, + leaping down from the Switzerland mountains, + And the silver-lipped soft flowing Saone, + meeting, kiss and commingle together, + Down-winding by vineyards and leas, + by the orchards of fig trees and olives, + To the island-gemmed, sapphire-blue seas + of the glorious Greeks and the Romans; + Aye, there, on the vine covered shore, + 'mid the mulberry trees and the olives, + Dwelt his blue-eyed and beautiful Flore, + with her hair like a wheat field at harvest, + All rippled and tossed by the breeze, + and her cheeks like the glow of the morning, + Far away o'er the emerald seas, + ere the sun lifts his brow from the billows, + Or the red-clover fields when the bees, + singing sip the sweet cups of the blossoms. + Wherever he wandered + --alone in the heart of the wild Huron forests, + Or cruising the rivers unknown + to the land of the Crees or Dakotas-- + His heart lingered still on the Rhone, + 'mid the mulberry-trees and the vineyards, + Fast-fettered and bound by the zone + that girdled the robes of his darling. + + Till the red Harvest Moon [71] + he remained in the vale of the swift Mississippi. + The esteem of the warriors he gained, + and the love of the dark eyed Winona. + He joined in the sports and the chase; + with the hunters he followed the bison, + And swift were his feet in the race + when the red elk they ran on the prairies. + At the Game of the Plum-stones [77] he played + and he won from the skillfulest players; + A feast to Wa'tanka [78] he made, + and he danced at the feast of Heyoka. [16] + With the flash and the roar of his gun + he astonished the fearless Dakotas; + They called it the "Maza Wakan" + --the mighty, mysterious metal. + "'Tis a brother," they said, + "of the fire in the talons of dreadful Wakinyan, [32] + When he flaps his huge wings in his ire, + and shoots his red shafts at Unktehee." [69] + + The Itancan, [74] tall Wazi-kute, + appointed a day for the races. + From the red stake that stood by his tee, + on the southerly side of the Ha-ha + To a stake at the Lake of the Loons [79] + --a league and return--was the distance. + On the crest of the hills red batons + marked the course for the feet of the runners. + They gathered from near and afar, + to the races and dancing and feasting. + Five hundred tall warriors were there + from Kapoza [6] and far off Keoza; [8] + Remnica, [a] too, furnished a share + of the legions that thronged to the races, + And a bountiful feast was prepared + by the diligent hands of the women, + And gaily the multitudes fared + in the generous tees of Kathaga. + The chief of the mystical clan + appointed a feast to Unktehee-- + The mystic "Wacipee Wakan" [b]-- + at the end of the day and the races. + A band of sworn brothers are they, + and the secrets of each one are sacred. + And death to the lips that betray + is the doom of the swarthy avengers, + And the son of tall Wazi-kute + was the chief of the mystical order. + + [a] Pronounced Ray mne chah--the village of the Mountains situate where + Red Wing now stands. + + [b] Sacred Dance--The Medicine dance--See description infra. + + On an arm of an oak hangs the prize + for the swiftest and strongest of runners-- + A blanket as red as the skies, + when the flames sweep the plains in October. + And beside it a strong, polished bow, + and a quiver of iron tipped arrows, + Which Kapoza's tall chief will bestow + on the fleet-footed second that follows. + A score of swift-runners are there + from the several bands of the nation; + And now for the race they prepare, + and among them fleet-footed Tamdoka. + With the oil of the buck and the bear + their sinewy limbs are anointed, + For fleet are the feet of the deer + and strong are the limbs of the bruin, + And long is the course and severe + for the swiftest and strongest of runners. + + Hark!--the shouts and the braying of drums, + and the Babel of tongues and confusion! + From his teepee the tall chieftain comes, + and Duluth brings a prize for the runners-- + A keen hunting-knife from the Seine, + horn-handled and mounted with silver. + The runners are ranged on the plain, + and the Chief waves a flag as a signal, + And away like the gray wolves they fly + --like the wolves on the trail of the red deer; + O'er the hills and the prairie they vie, + and strain their strong limbs to the utmost, + While high on the hills hangs a cloud + of warriors and maidens and mothers, + To behold the swift runners, + and loud are the cheers and the shouts of the warriors. + + Now swift from the lake they return, + o'er the emerald hills and the heather; + Like grey-hounds they pant and they yearn, + and the leader of all is Tamdoka. + At his heels flies Hu-pa-hu, [a] the fleet + --the pride of the band of Kaoza, + A warrior with eagle-winged feet, + but his prize is the bow and the quiver. + Tamdoka first reaches the post, + and his are the knife and the blanket, + By the mighty acclaim of the host + and award of the chief and the judges. + Then proud was the tall warrior's stride, + and haughty his look and demeanor; + He boasted aloud in his pride, + and he scoffed at the rest of the runners. + "Behold me, for I am a man! [b] + my feet are as swift as the West wind. + With the coons and the beavers I ran; + but where is the elk or the cabri? [80] + Come!--where is the hunter will dare + match his feet with the feet of Tamdoka? + Let him think of Tate [c] and beware, + ere he stake his last robe on the trial." + "Oho! Ho! Ho-heca!" [d] they jeered, + for they liked not the boast of the boaster; + But to match him no warrior appeared, + for his feet wore the wings of the west-wind. + + [a] The wings. + + [b] A favorite boast of the Dakota braves. + + [c] The wind. + + [d] About equivalent to Oho--Aha--fudge. + + Then forth from the side of the chief + stepped DuLuth and he looked on the boaster; + "The words of a warrior are brief, + --I will run with the brave," said the Frenchman; + "But the feet of Tamdoka are tired; + abide till the cool of the sunset." + All the hunters and maidens admired, + for strong were the limbs of the stranger. + "Hiwo! Ho!" [a] they shouted + and loud rose the cheers of the multitude mingled; + And there in the midst of the crowd + stood the glad-eyed and blushing Winona. + + [a] Hurra there! + + Now afar o'er the plains of the west + walked the sun at the end of his journey, + And forth came the brave and the guest, + at the tap of the drum, for the trial. + Like a forest of larches the hordes + were gathered to witness the contest; + As loud is the drums were their words + and they roared like the roar of the Ha-ha. + For some for Tamdoka contend, + and some for the fair, bearded stranger, + And the betting runs high to the end, + with the skins of the bison and beaver. + A wife of tall Wazi-kute + --the mother of boastful Tamdoka-- + Brought her handsomest robe from the tee, + with a vaunting and loud proclamation: + She would stake her last robe on her son who, + she boasted, was fleet as the Cabri [80] + And the tall, tawny chieftain looked on, + approving the boast of the mother. + Then fleet as the feet of a fawn to her lodge + ran the dark eyed Winona, + She brought and she staked on the lawn, + by the side of the robe of the boaster, + The lily-red mantle Duluth, with his own hands, + had laid on her shoulders. + "Tamdoka is swift, but forsooth, + the tongue of his mother is swifter," + She said, and her face was aflame + with the red of the rose and the lily, + And loud was the roar of acclaim; + but dark was the face of Tamdoka. + + They strip for the race and prepare, + --DuLuth in his breeches and leggins; + And the brown, curling locks of his hair + downward droop to his bare, brawny shoulders, + And his face wears a smile debonair, + as he tightens his red sash around him; + But stripped to the moccasins bare, + save the belt and the breech-clout of buckskin, + Stands the haughty Tamdoka aware + that the eyes of the warriors admire him; + For his arms are the arms of a bear + and his legs are the legs of a panther. + + The drum beats,--the chief waves the flag, + and away on the course speed the runners, + And away leads the brave like a stag, + --like a hound on his track flies the Frenchman; + And away haste the hunters, once more, + to the hills for a view to the lake-side, + And the dark-swarming hill-tops, + they roar with the storm of loud voices commingled. + Far away o'er the prairie they fly, + and still in the lead is Tamdoka, + But the feet of his rival are nigh, + and slowly he gains on the hunter. + Now they turn on the post at the lake, + --now they run full abreast on the home-stretch; + Side by side they contend for the stake, + for a long mile or more on the prairie. + They strain like a stag and a hound, + when the swift river gleams through the thicket, + And the horns of the rulers resound, + winding shrill through the depths of the forest. + But behold!--at full length on the ground + falls the fleet-footed Frenchman abruptly. + And away with a whoop and a bound, + springs the eager, exulting Tamdoka. + Long and loud on the hills + is the shout of his swarthy admirers and backers; + "But the race is not won till it's out," + said DuLuth, to himself as he gathered, + With a frown on his face, + for the foot of the wily Tamdoka had tripped him. + Far ahead ran the brave on the route, + and turning he boasted exultant. + Like spurs to the steed to DuLuth + were the jeers and the taunts of the boaster; + Indignant was he and red wroth, + at the trick of the runner dishonest; + And away like a whirlwind he speeds + --like a hurricane mad from the mountains; + He gains on Tamdoka,--he leads! + --and behold, with the spring of a panther, + He leaps to the goal and succeeds, + 'mid the roar of the mad acclamation. + + Then glad as the robin in May + was the voice of Winona exulting; + And the crest-fallen brave turned away, + and lonely he walked by the river; + He glowered as he went + and the fire of revenge in his bosom was kindled, + But he strove to dissemble his ire, + and he whistled alone by the Ha-ha. + + + + THE "WAKAN WACEPEE," OR SACRED DANCE. [81] + + + Lo the lights in the "Teepee Wakan!" + 'tis the night of the Wakan-Wacepee. + Round and round walks the chief of the clan, + as he rattles the sacred Ta-sha-kay; [81] + Long and loud on the Chan-che-ga [81] + beat the drummers with magical drumsticks, + And the notes of the Cho-tanka [81] greet, + like the murmur of winds on the waters. + By the friction of white-cedar wood + for the feast was a Virgin-fire [20] kindled. + They that enter the firm brotherhood + first must fast and be cleansed by E-nee-pee; [81] + And from foot-sole to crown of the head + must they paint with the favorite colors; + For Unktehee likes bands of blood-red, + with the stripings of blue intermingled. + In the hollow earth, dark and profound, + Unktehee and fiery Wakin-yan + Long fought and the terrible sound + of the battle was louder than thunder; + The mountains were heaved and around + were scattered the hills and the boulders, + And the vast solid plains of the ground + rose and fell like the waves of the ocean. + But the god of the waters prevailed. + Wakin-yan escaped from the cavern, + And long on the mountains he wailed, + and his hatred endureth forever. + + When Unktehee had finished the earth, + and the beasts and the birds and the fishes, + And men at his bidding came forth + from the heart of the huge hollow mountains [69] + A band chose the god from the hordes, + and he said "Ye are sons of Unktehee; + Ye are lords of the beasts and the birds, + and the fishes that swim in the waters. + But hearken ye now to my words, + --let them sound in your bosoms forever. + Ye shall honor Unktehee and hate Wakinyan, + the Spirit of Thunder, + For the power of Unktehee is great, + and he laughs at the darts of Wakinyan. + Ye shall honor the Earth and the Sun, + --for they are your father and mother. [70] + Let your prayer to the Sun be + --_Wakan, Ate: on-si-ma-da ohee-nee_ [a] + And remember the Taku Wakan, [73] + all pervading in earth and in ether-- + Invisible ever to man, + but he dwells in the midst of all matter; + Yea, he dwells in the heart of the stone + --in the hard granite heart of the boulder; + Ye shall call him forever Tunkan + --grandfather of all the Dakotas. + Ye are men that I choose for my own; + ye shall be as a strong band of brothers, + Now I give you the magical bone + and the magical pouch of the spirits. [b] + And these are the laws ye shall heed: + Ye shall honor the pouch and the giver. + Ye shall walk as twin-brothers; + in need, one shall forfeit his life for another. + Listen not to the voice of the crow. [c] + Hold as sacred the wife of a brother. + Strike, and fear not the shaft of the foe, + for the soul of the brave is immortal. + Slay the warrior in battle, + but spare the innocent babe and the mother. + Remember a promise;--beware, + --let the word of a warrior be sacred. + When a stranger arrives at the tee + --be he friend of the band or a foeman, + Give him food; let your bounty be free; + lay a robe for the guest by the lodge-fire; + Let him go to his kindred in peace, + if the peace-pipe he smoke in the teepee; + And so shall your children increase, + and your lodges shall laugh with abundance. + And long shall ye live in the land, + and the spirits of earth and the waters + Shall come to your aid, at command, + with the power of invisible magic. + And at last, when you journey afar + --o'er the shining "_Wanagee Ta-chan-ku_," [70] + You shall walk as a red, shining star, [18] + in the land of perpetual summer." + + [a] "Sacred Spirit, Father have pity on me always" + + [b] Riggs' Tahkoo Wakan, p. 90. + + [c] Slander. + + All the night in the teepee they sang, + and they danced to the mighty Unktehee, + While the loud-braying Chan-che-ga rang + and the shrill-piping flute and the rattle, + Till Anpetuwee [70] rose in the east + --from the couch of the blushing Han-nan-na. + And then at the dance and the feast + sang the song of Unktehee in chorus: + + "Wa-du-ta o-hna mi-ka-ge! + Wa-du-ta o-hna mi-ka-ge! + Mini-yata ite wakande maku, + Ate wakan--Tunkansidan, + + Tunkansidan pejihuta wakan + Micage--he Wicage! + Miniyata ite wakande maku. + Taukansidan ite, nape du-win-ta woo, + Wahutopa wan yuha, nape du-win-ta too." + + TRANSLATION + + In red swan-down he made it for me; + In red swan-down he made it for me; + He of the water--he of the mysterious face-- + Gave it to me; + Sacred Father--Grandfather! + + Grandfather made me magical medicine + That is true! + Being of mystery,--grown in the water-- + He gave it to me! + To the face of our Grandfather stretch out your hand; + Holding a quadruped, stretch out your hand! + + Till high o'er the hills of the east + Anpetuwee walked on his journey, + In secret they danced at the feast, + and communed with the mighty Unktehee. + Then opened the door of the tee + to the eyes of the day and the people, + And the sons of Unktehee, to be, + were endowed with the sacred Ozuha [82] + By the son of tall Wazi-kute, Tamdoka, + the chief of the Magi. + And thus since the birth-day of man + --since he sprang from the heart of the mountains, [69] + Has the sacred "Wacepee Wakan" + by the warlike Dakotas been honored, + And the god-favored sons of the clan + work their will with the help of the spirits. + + 'Twas sunrise; the spirits of mist + trailed their white robes on dewy savannas, + And the flowers raised their heads to be kissed + by the first golden beams of the morning. + The breeze was abroad with the breath + of the rose of the Isles of the Summer, + And the humming-bird hummed on the heath + from his home in the land of the rain-bow. [a] + 'Twas the morn of departure. + Duluth stood alone by the roar of the Ha-ha; + Tall and fair in the strength of his youth + stood the blue-eyed and fair-bearded Frenchman. + A rustle of robes on the grass broke his dream + as he mused by the waters, + And, turning, he looked on the face of Winona, + wild rose of the prairies, + Half hid in her forest of hair, + like the round, golden moon in the pine tops. + Admiring he gazed--she was fair + as his own blooming Flore in her orchards, + With her golden locks loose on the air, + like the gleam of the sun through the olives, + Far away on the vine-covered shore, + in the sun-favored land of his fathers. + "Lists the chief to the cataract's roar + for the mournful lament of the Spirit?" [b] + Said Winona,--"The wail of the sprite + for her babe and its father unfaithful, + Is heard in the midst of the night, + when the moon wanders dim in the heavens." + + [a] The Dakotas say the humming-bird comes from the "land of the + rain-bow." + + [b] See Legend of the Falls or Note 28--Appendix. + + "Wild-Rose of the Prairies," he said, + "DuLuth listens not to the Ha-ha, + For the wail of the ghost of the dead, + for her babe and its father unfaithful; + But he lists to a voice in his heart + that is heard by the ear of no other, + And to-day will the White Chief depart + --he returns to the land of the sunrise." + "Let Winona depart with the chief, + --she will kindle the fire in his teepee; + For long are the days of her grief, + if she stay in the tee of Ta-te-psin," + She replied and her cheeks were aflame + with the bloom of the wild prairie lilies. + "Tanke, [a] is the White Chief to blame?" + said DuLuth to the blushing Winona. + "The White Chief is blameless," she said, + "but the heart of Winona will follow + Wherever thy footsteps may lead, + O blue-eyed brave Chief of the white men. + For her mother sleeps long in the mound, + and a step-mother rules in the teepee. + And her father, once strong and renowned, + is bent with the weight of his winters. + No longer he handles the spear, + --no longer his swift, humming arrows + Overtake the fleet feet of the deer, + or the bear of the woods, or the bison; + But he bends as he walks, and the wind + shakes his white hair and hinders his footsteps; + And soon will he leave me behind, + without brother or sister or kindred. + The doe scents the wolf in the wind, + and a wolf walks the path of Winona. + Three times have the gifts for the bride [25] + to the lodge of Ta-te-psin been carried. + But the voice of Winona replied + that she liked not the haughty Tamdoka. + And thrice were the gifts sent away, + but the tongue of the mother protested, + And the were wolf [52] still follows his prey, + abides but the death of my father." + + [a] My Sister. + + "I pity Winona," he said, + "but my path is a pathway of danger, + And long is the trail for the maid + to the far-away land of the sunrise; + And few are the braves of my band, + and the braves of Tamdoka are many; + But soon I return to the land, + and a cloud of my hunters will follow. + When the cold winds of winter return, + and toss the white robes of the prairies, + The fire of the White Chief will burn + in his lodge at the Meeting-of-Waters; [a] + And when from the Sunrise again + comes the chief of the suns of the Morning, + Many moons will his hunters remain + in the land of the friendly Dakotas. + The son of Chief Wazi-kute + guides the White Chief afar on his journey; + Nor long on the Tonka Mede [b] + --on the breast of the blue, bounding billows-- + Shall the bark of the Frenchman delay, + but his pathway shall kindle behind him." + + [a] Mendota, properly _Mdo-te_--meaning the outlet of lake or river into + another, + commonly applied to the region about Fort Snelling. + + [b] Tonka Mede--Great Lake, i.e. Lake Superior. The Dakotas seem to have + had no other name for it. They generally referred to it as + _Mini-ya-ta--There at the water._ + + She was pale, and her hurried voice swelled + with alarm as she questioned replying + "Tamdoka thy guide? + --I beheld thy death in his face at the races! + He covers his heart with a smile, + but revenge never sleeps in his bosom; + His tongue--it is soft to beguile; + but beware of the pur of the panther! + For death, like a shadow, + will walk by thy side in the midst of the forest, + Or follow thy path like a hawk + on the trail of a wounded Mastinca. [a] + A son of Unktehee is he, + --the Chief of the crafty magicians; + They have plotted thy death; I foresee, + and thy trail, it is red in the forest; + Beware of Tamdoka,--beware. + Slumber not like the grouse of the woodlands, + With head under wing, + for the glare of the eyes that sleep not are upon thee." + + [a] The rabbit. The Dakotas called the Crees "Mastincapi"--Rabbits. + + "Winona, fear not," said Duluth, + "for I carry the fire of Wakinyan, [a] + And strong is the arm of my youth, + and stout are the hearts of my warriors; + But Winona has spoken the truth, + and the heart of the White Chief is thankful. + Hide this in thy bosom, dear maid, + --'tis the crucified Christ of the white men. [b] + Lift thy voice to his spirit in need, + and his spirit will hear thee and answer; + For often he comes to my aid; + he is stronger than all the Dakotas; + And the Spirits of evil, afraid, + hide away when he looks from the heavens." + In her swelling brown bosom + she hid the crucified Jesus in silver; + "Niwaste," [c] she sadly replied; + in her low voice the rising tears trembled; + Her dewy eyes turned she aside, + and she slowly returned to the teepees. + But still on the swift river's strand, + admiring the graceful Winona, + As she gathered, with brown, dimpled hand, + her hair from the wind, stood the Frenchman. + + [a] i.e. a fire arm which the Dakotas compare to the roar of the wings of + the Thunder-bird and the fiery arrows he shoots. + + [b] Duluth was a devout Catholic. + + [c] Nee-wahshtay--Thou art good. + + To bid the brave White Chief adieu, + on the shady shore gathered the warriors; + His glad boatmen manned the canoe, + and the oars in their hands were impatient. + Spake the Chief of Isantees, + --"A feast will await the return of my brother + In peace rose the sun in the East, + in peace in the West he descended. + May the feet of my brother be swift, + till they bring him again to our teepees; + The red pipe he takes as a gift, + may he smoke that red pipe many winters. + At my lodge-fire his pipe shall be lit, + when the White Chief returns to Kathaga; + On the robes of my tee shall he sit, + he shall smoke with the chiefs of my people. + The brave love the brave; + and his son sends the Chief as a guide for his brother, + By the way of the Wakpa Wakan [a] + to the Chief at the Lake of the Spirits. + + [a] Spirit River, now called _Rum_ River. + + As light as the foot-steps of dawn + are the feet of the stealthy Tamdoka, + And he fears not the Maza Wakan; [a] + he is sly as the fox of the forest. + When he dances the dance of red war + all the hungry wolves howl by the Big Sea, [b] + For they scent on the south-wind + afar their feast on the bones of Ojibways." + Thrice the Chief puffed the red pipe of peace, + ere it passed to the lips of the Frenchman. + Spake DuLuth,--"May the Great Spirit + bless with abundance the Chief and his people; + May their sons and their daughters increase, + and the fire ever burn in their teepees." + Then he waved with a flag his adieu + to the Chief and the warriors assembled; + And away shot Tamdoka's canoe + to the strokes of ten sinewy hunters; + And a white path he clove up the blue, + bubbling stream of the swift Mississippi; + And away on his foaming trail flew, + like a Sea-Gull the bark of the Frenchman. + Then merrily rose the blithe song + of the _voyageurs_ homeward returning, + And thus, as they glided along, + sang the bugle-voiced boatmen in chorus: + +SONG + + Home again! home again! bend to the oar! + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_ + He rides on the river with his paddle in his hand, + And his boat is his shelter on the water and the land. + The clam in his shell and the water turtle too, + And the brave boatman's shell is his birch bark canoe. + So pull away, boatmen, bend to the oar; + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + + Home again! home again! bend to the oar! + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + His couch is as downy as a couch can be, + For he sleeps on the feathers of the green fir-tree. + He dines on the fat of the pemmican-sack, + And his _eau de vie_ is the _eau de lac_. + So pull away, boatmen; bend to the oar; + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + + Home again! home again! bend to the oar! + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + The brave, jolly boatman,--he never is afraid + When he meets at the portage a red, forest maid, + A Huron, or a Cree, or a blooming Chippeway; + And he marks his trail with the _bois brules_. + So pull away, boatmen; bend to the oar; + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + Home again! home again! bend to the oar! + Merry is the life of the gay _voyageur_. + + [a] Fire arm--spirit metal. + + + [b] Lake Superior--at that time the home of the Ojibways. (Chippewas) + + In the reeds of the meadow the stag + lifts his branchy head stately and listens, + And the bobolink, perched on the flag, + her ear sidelong bends to the chorus. + From the brow of the Beautiful Isle, [a] + half hid in the midst of the maples, + The sad-faced Winona, the while, + watched the boat growing less in the distance. + Till away in the bend of the stream, + where it turned and was lost in the lindens, + She saw the last dip and the gleam + of the oars ere they vanished forever. + Still afar on the waters the song, + like bridal bells distantly chiming, + The stout, jolly boatmen prolong, + beating time with the stroke of their paddles; + And Winona's ear, turned to the breeze, + lists the air falling fainter and fainter + Till it dies like the murmur of bees + when the sun is aslant on the meadows. + Blow, breezes,--blow softly + and sing in the dark, flowing hair of the maiden; + But never again shall you bring + the voice that she loves to Winona. + + [a] Wista Waste--Nicollet Island. + + Now a light, rustling wind from the South + shakes his wings o'er the wide, wimpling waters; + Up the dark winding river + DuLuth follows fast in the wake of Tamdoka. + On the slopes of the emerald shores + leafy woodlands and prairies alternate; + On the vine-tangled islands + the flowers peep timidly out at the white men; + In the dark-winding eddy the loon sits warily, + watching and voiceless, + And the wild goose, in reedy lagoon, + stills the prattle and play of her children. + The does and their sleek, dappled fawns + prick their ears and peer out from the thickets, + And the bison-calves play on the lawns, + and gambol like colts in the clover. + Up the still flowing Wakpa Wakan's winding path + through the groves and the meadows. + Now DuLuth's brawny boatmen + pursue the swift gliding bark of Tamdoka; + And hardly the red braves out-do + the stout, steady oars of the white men. + + Now they bend to their oars in the race + --the ten tawny braves of Tamdoka; + And hard on their heels in the chase + ply the six stalwart oars of the Frenchmen. + In the stern of his boat sits DuLuth, + in the stern of his boat stands Tamdoka; + And warily, cheerily, + both urge the oars of their men to the utmost. + Far-stretching away to the eyes, + winding blue in the midst of the meadows, + As a necklet of sapphires + that lies unclaspt in the lap of a virgin, + Here asleep in the lap of the plain + lies the reed-bordered, beautiful river. + Like two flying coursers that strain, + on the track, neck and neck, on the home-stretch, + With nostrils distended, and mane froth-flecked, + and the neck and the shoulders, + Each urged to his best by the cry + and the whip and the rein of his rider, + Now they skim o'er the waters and fly, + side by side, neck and neck, through the meadows. + The blue heron flaps from the reeds, + and away wings her course up the river; + Straight and swift is her flight o'er the meads, + but she hardly outstrips the canoemen. + See! the _voyageurs_ bend to their oars + till the blue veins swell out on their foreheads; + And the sweat from their brawny breasts pours; + but in vain their Herculean labor; + For the oars of Tamdoka are ten, + and but six are the oars of the Frenchmen, + And the red warriors' burden of men + is matched by the _voyageur's_ luggage. + Side by side, neck and neck, for a mile, + still they strain their strong arms to the utmost, + Till rounding a willowy isle, now ahead creeps the boat of Tamdoka, + And the neighboring forests profound, + and the far-stretching plain of the meadows + To the whoop of the victors resound, + while the panting French rest on their paddles. + + With sable wings wide o'er the land, + night sprinkles the dew of the heavens; + And hard by the dark river's strand, + in the midst of a tall, somber forest, + Two camp-fires are lighted, and beam + on the trunks and the arms of the pine-trees. + In the fitful light darkle and gleam + the swarthy-hued faces around them. + And one is the camp of DuLuth, + and the other the camp of Tamdoka, + But few are the jests and uncouth + of the _voyageurs_ over their supper, + While moody and silent the braves + round their fire in a circle sit crouching; + And low is the whisper of leaves + and the sough of the wind in the branches; + And low is the long-winding howl + of the lone wolf afar in the forest; + But shrill is the hoot of the owl, + like a bugle blast blown in the pine-tops, + And the half-startled _voyageurs_ + scowl at the sudden and saucy intruder. + Like the eyes of the wolves are the eyes + of the watchful and silent Dakotas; + Like the face of the moon in the skies, + when the clouds chase each other across it. + Is Tamdoka's dark face in the light + of the flickering flames of the camp fire. + They have plotted red murder by night, + and securely contemplate their victims. + But wary and armed to the teeth + are the resolute Frenchmen and ready, + If need be, to grapple with death, + and to die hand to hand in the desert. + Yet skilled in the arts and the wiles + of the cunning and crafty Algonkins, + They cover their hearts with their smiles, + and hide their suspicions of evil. + Round their low, smouldering fire, + feigning sleep, lie the watchful and wily Dakotas; + But DuLuth and his _voyageurs_ heap their fire + that shall blaze till the morning, + Ere they lay themselves snugly to rest, + with their guns by their side on the blankets, + As if there were none to molest + but the ravening beasts of the forest. + + 'Tis midnight. The rising moon gleams, + weird and still o'er the dusky horizon; + Through the hushed, somber forest she beams, + and fitfully gloams on the meadows; + And a dim, glimmering pathway she paves, + at times, on the dark stretch of river. + The winds are asleep in the caves + --in the heart of the far-away mountains; + And here on the meadows and there, + the lazy mists gather and hover; + And the lights of the Fen-Spirits [72] flare + and dance on the low-lying marshes, + As still as the footsteps of death + by the bed of the babe and its mother; + And hushed are the pines, and beneath + lie the weary limbed boatmen in slumber. + Walk softly,--walk softly, O Moon, + through the gray, broken clouds in thy pathway, + For the earth lies asleep, and the boon + of repose is bestowed on the weary. + Toiling hands have forgotten their care; + e'en the brooks have forgotten to murmur; + But hark!--there's a sound on the air! + --'tis the light-rustling robes of the Spirits. + Like the breath of the night in the leaves, + or the murmur of reeds on the river, + In the cool of the mid-summer eves, + when the blaze of the day has descended. + Low-crouching and shadowy forms, + as still as the gray morning's footsteps, + Creep sly as the serpent that charms, + on her nest in the meadow, the plover; + In the shadows of pine-trunks they creep, + but their panther-eyes gleam in the fire-light, + As they peer on the white men asleep, + in the glow of the fire, on their blankets. + Lo, in each swarthy right hand a knife, + in the left hand, the bow and the arrows! + Brave Frenchmen! awake to the strife! + --or you sleep in the forest forever. + Nay, nearer and nearer they glide, + like ghosts on the fields of their battles, + Till close on the sleepers, they bide + but the signal of death from Tamdoka. + Still the sleepers sleep on. + Not a breath stirs the leaves of the awe-stricken forest; + The hushed air is heavy with death; + like the footsteps of death are the moments. + "_Arise_!"--At the word, with a bound, + to their feet spring the vigilant Frenchmen; + And the dark, dismal forests resound + to the crack and the roar of their rifles; + And seven writhing forms on the ground + clutch the earth. From the pine-tops the screech owl + Screams and flaps his wide wings in affright, + and plunges away through the shadows; + And swift on the wings of the night + flee the dim, phantom forms of the spirit. + Like cabris [80] when white wolves pursue, + fled the four yet remaining Dakotas; + Through forest and fen-land they flew, + and wild terror howled on their footsteps. + And one was Tamdoka. DuLuth through the night + sent his voice like a trumpet; + "Ye are Sons of Unktehee, forsooth! + Return to your mothers, ye cowards!" + His shrill voice they heard as they fled, + but only the echoes made answer. + At the feet of the brave Frenchmen, dead, + lay seven swarthy Sons of Unktehee; + And there, in the midst of the slain, + they found, as it gleamed in the fire light, + The horn-handled knife from the Seine, + where it fell from the hand of Tamdoka. + + [Illustration: THE RIVER WAKPA WAKAN OR SPIRIT RIVER] + + In the gray of the morn, + ere the sun peeped over the dewy horizon, + Their journey again was begun, + and they toiled up the swift, winding river; + And many a shallow they passed + on their way to the Lake of the Spirits; + But dauntless they reached it at last, + and found Akee-pa-kee-tin's village, [a] + On an isle in the midst of the lake; + and a day in his teepee they tarried. + + [a] see Hennepin's account of Aqui-pa-que-tin and his village. + Shea's Hennepin 227. + + Of the deed in the wilderness spake, + to the brave Chief, the frank-hearted Frenchman. + A generous man was the Chief + and a friend of the fearless explorer; + And dark was his visage with grief + at the treacherous act of the warriors. + "Brave Wazi-Kute is a man, + and his heart is as clear as the sun-light; + But the head of a treacherous clan, + and a snake in the bush is Tamdoka," + Said the chief; and he promised Duluth, + on the word of a friend and a warrior, + To carry the pipe and the truth + to his cousin, the chief at Kathaga; + For thrice at the Tanka Mede + had he smoked in the lodge of the Frenchman; + And thrice had he carried away + the bountiful gifts of the trader. + + When the chief could no longer prevail + on the white men to rest in his teepee, + He guided their feet on the trail + to the lakes of the winding Rice-River. [a] + Now on speeds the light bark canoe, + through the lakes to the broad Gitchee Seebee; [b] + And up the great river they row, + --up the Big Sandy Lake and Savanna; + And down through the meadows they go + to the river of broad Gitchee Gumee. [c] + + [a] Now called "Mud River"--it empties into the Mississippi at Aitkin. + + [b] _Gitchee seebee_--Big River--the Ojibway name for the Mississippi, + which is a corruption of Gitchee Seebee--as Michigan is a corruption of + _Gitchee Gumee_--Great Lake, the Ojibway name of Lake Superior. + + [c] The Ojibways call the St. Louis River + _Gitchee-Gumee See-bee--Great-lake River_, i.e. the river of the Great Lake + (Lake Superior). + + [Illustration: DALLES OF THE ST. LOUIS] + + Still onward they speed to the Dalles + --to the roar of the white-rolling rapids, + Where the dark river tumbles and falls + down the ragged ravine of the mountains, + And singing his wild jubilee + to the low-moaning pines and the cedars, + Rushes on to the unsalted sea + o'er the ledges upheaved by volcanoes. + Their luggage the _voyageurs_ bore + down the long, winding path of the portage, [a] + While they mingled their song + with the roar of the turbid and turbulent waters. + Down-wimpling and murmuring there, + twixt two dewy hills winds a streamlet, + Like a long, flaxen ringlet of hair + on the breast of a maid in her slumber. + + [a] The route of Duluth above described--from the mouth of the Wild Rice + Mud River to Lake Superior--was for centuries and still is, the Indians' + canoe route. I have walked over the old portage from the foot of the + Dalles to the St. Louis above--trod by the feet of half-breeds and + _voyageurs_ for more than two centuries, and by the Indians for, + perhaps, a thousand years. + + All safe at the foot of the trail, + where they left it, they found their felucca, + And soon to the wind spread the sail, + and glided at ease through the waters, + Through the meadows and lakelets and forth, + round the point stretching south like a finger, + From the mist-wreathen hill on the north, + sloping down to the bay and the lake-side + And behold, at the foot of the hill, + a cluster of Chippewa wigwams, + And the busy wives plying with skill + their nets in the emerald waters. + Two hundred white winters and more + have fled from the face of the Summer + Since DuLuth, on that wild, somber shore, + in the unbroken forest primeval, + From the midst of the spruce and the pines, + saw the smoke of the wigwams up-curling, + Like the fumes from the temples and shrines + of the Druids of old in their forests. + Ah, little he dreamed then, forsooth, + that a city would stand on that hill-side, + And bear the proud name of Duluth, + the untiring and dauntless explorer. + A refuge for ships from the storms, + and for men from the bee-hives of Europe. + Out-stretching her long, iron arms + o'er an empire of Saxons and Normans. + + The swift west-wind sang in the sails, + and on flew the boat like a Sea-Gull, + By the green, templed hills and the dales, + and the dark rugged rocks of the North Shore; + For the course of the brave Frenchman + lay to his fort at the Gah-mah-na-tek-wahk, [83] + By the shore of the grand Thunder Bay, + where the gray rocks loom up into mountains; + Where the Stone Giant sleeps on the Cape, + and the god of the storms makes the thunder, [83] + And the Makinak [83] lifts his huge shape + from the breast of the blue-rolling waters, + And thence to the south-westward led his course + to the Holy Ghost Mission. [84] + Where the Black Robes, the brave shepherds, + fed their wild sheep on the isle Wau-ga-ba-me. [84] + + [Illustration: SUNSET BAY, LAKE SUPERIOR.] + + In the enchanting Cha-quam-e-gon Bay, + defended by all the Apostles; [a] + And thence by the Ke-we-naw, + lay his course to the Mission Sainte Marie. [b] + Now the waves drop their myriad hands, + and streams the white hair of the surges; + DuLuth at the steady helm stands, + and he hums as he bounds o'er the billows: + + O sweet is the carol of bird, + And sweet is the murmur of streams, + But sweeter the voice that I heard-- + In the night--in the midst of my dreams. + + [a] The Apostle Islands. + + [b] At the Saut St. Marie. + + 'Tis the moon of the sere, falling leaves. + From the heads of the maples the west-wind + Plucks the red-and-gold plumage + and grieves on the meads for the rose and the lily; + Their brown leaves the moaning oaks strew, + and the breezes that roam on the prairies, + Low-whistling and wanton pursue + the down of the silk weed and thistle. + All sere are the prairies and brown, + in the glimmer and haze of the Autumn; + From the far northern marshes flock down, + by thousands, the geese and the mallards. + From the meadows and wide-prairied plains, + for their long southward journey preparing, + In croaking flocks gather the cranes, + and choose with loud clamor their leaders. + The breath of the evening is cold, + and lurid along the horizon + The flames of the prairies are rolled, + on the somber skies flashing their torches. + At noontide a shimmer of gold, + through the haze, pours the sun from his pathway. + The wild-rice is gathered and ripe, + on the moors, lie the scarlet po-pan-ka; [a] + Michabo [85] is smoking his pipe, + --'tis the soft, dreamy Indian Summer, + When the god of the South as he flies + from Waziya, the god of the Winter, + For a time turns his beautiful eyes, + and backward looks over his shoulder. + + [a] Cranberries. + + It is noon. From his path in the skies + the red sun looks down on Kathaga, + Asleep in the valley it lies, + for the swift hunters follow the bison. + Ta-te-psin, the aged brave, bends + as he walks by the side of Winona; + Her arm to his left hand she lends, + and he feels with his staff for the pathway; + On his slow, feeble footsteps attends + his gray dog, the watchful Wichaka; [a] + For blind in his years is the chief + of a fever that followed the Summer, + And the days of Ta-te-psin are brief. + Once more by the dark-rolling river + Sits the Chief in the warm, dreamy haze + of the beautiful Summer in Autumn; + And the faithful dog lovingly lays his head + at the feet of his master. + On a dead, withered branch sits a crow, + down-peering askance at the old man; + On the marge of the river below + romp the nut-brown and merry-voiced children, + And the dark waters silently flow, + broad and deep, to the plunge of the Ha-ha. + + [a] Wee-chah kah--literally "Faithful". + + By his side sat Winona. + He laid his thin, shriveled hand on her tresses, + "Winona my daughter," he said, + "no longer thy father beholds thee; + But he feels the long locks of thy hair, + and the days that are gone are remembered, + When Sisoka [a] sat faithful and fair + in the lodge of swift footed Ta-te-psin. + The white years have broken my spear; + from my bow they have taken the bow-string; + But once on the trail of the deer, + like a gray wolf from sunrise till sunset, + By woodland and meadow and mere, + ran the feet of Ta-te-psin untiring. + But dim are the days that are gone, + and darkly around me they wander, + Like the pale, misty face of the moon + when she walks through the storm of the winter; + And sadly they speak in my ear. + I have looked on the graves of my kindred. + The Land of the Spirits is near. + Death walks by my side like a shadow. + Now open thine ear to my voice, + and thy heart to the wish of thy father, + And long will Winona rejoice + that she heeded the words of Ta-te-psin. + The cold, cruel winter is near, + and famine will sit in the teepee. + What hunter will bring me the deer, + or the flesh of the bear or the bison? + For my kinsmen before me have gone; + they hunt in the land of the shadows. + In my old age forsaken, alone, + must I die in my teepee of hunger? + Winona, Tamdoka can make my empty lodge + laugh with abundance; + For thine aged and blind father's sake, + to the son of the Chief speak the promise. + For gladly again to my tee + will the bridal gifts come for my daughter. + A fleet-footed hunter is he, + and the good spirits feather his arrows; + And the cold, cruel winter + will be a feast-time instead of a famine." + + [a] The Robin--the name of Winona's Mother. + + "My father," she said, and her voice + was filial and full of compassion, + "Would the heart of Ta-te-psin rejoice + at the death of Winona, his daughter? + The crafty Tamdoka I hate. + Must I die in his teepee of sorrow? + For I love the White Chief, + and I wait his return to the land of Dakotas. + When the cold winds of winter return, + and toss the white robes of the prairies, + The fire of the White Chief will burn, + in his lodge, at the Meeting-of-Waters. + Winona's heart followed his feet + far away to the land of the morning, + And she hears in her slumber + his sweet, kindly voice call the name of thy daughter. + My father, abide, I entreat, + the return of the brave to Kathaga. + The wild-rice is gathered, + the meat of the bison is stored in the teepee; + Till the Coon-Moon [71] enough and to spare; + and if then the white warrior return not, + Winona will follow the bear, and the coon, + to their dens in the forest. + She is strong; she can handle the spear; + she can bend the stout bow of the hunter; + And swift on the trail of the deer + will she run o'er the snow on her snow-shoes. + Let the step-mother sit in the tee, + and kindle the fire for my father; + And the cold, cruel winter shall be + a feast-time instead of a famine." + "The White Chief will never return," + half angrily muttered Ta-te-psin; + + "His camp-fire will nevermore burn + in the land of the warriors he slaughtered. + I grieve, for my daughter has said + that she loves the false friend of her kindred; + For the hands of the White Chief are red + with the blood of the trustful Dakotas." + Then warmly Winona replied, + "Tamdoka himself is the traitor, + And the white-hearted stranger had died + by his treacherous hand in the forest, + But thy daughter's voice bade him beware + of the sly death that followed his footsteps. + The words of Tamdoka are fair, + but his heart is the den of the serpents. + When the braves told their tale, + like a bird sang the heart of Winona rejoicing, + But gladlier still had she heard + of the death of the crafty Tamdoka. + The Chief will return, he is bold, + and he carries the fire of Wakinyan; + To our people the truth will be told, + and Tamdoka will hide like a coward." + His thin locks the aged brave shook; + to himself half inaudibly muttered; + To Winona no answer he spoke + --only moaned he "Micunksee! Micunksee! [a] + In my old age forsaken and blind! + Yun! He he! Micunksee! Micunksee!" [b] + And Wichaka, the pitying dog, whined, + as he looked on the face of his master. + + [a] My Daughter! My Daughter! + + [b] Alas! O My Daughter,--My Daughter! + + Waziya came down from the North + --from his land of perpetual winter. + From his frost-covered beard issued forth + the sharp-biting, shrill-whistling North-wind; + At the touch of his breath the wide earth turned to stone, + and the lakes and the rivers; + From his nostrils the white vapors rose, + and they covered the sky like a blanket. + Like the down of Maga [a] fell the snows, + tossed and whirled into heaps by the North-wind. + Then the blinding storms roared on the plains, + like the simoons on sandy Sahara; + From the fangs of the fierce hurricanes + fled the elk and the deer and the bison. + Ever colder and colder it grew, + till the frozen earth cracked and split open; + And harder and harder it blew, + till the prairies were bare as the boulders. + To the southward the buffaloes fled, + and the white rabbits hid in their burrows; + On the bare sacred mounds of the dead + howled the gaunt, hungry wolves in the night-time. + The strong hunters crouched in their tees; + by the lodge-fires the little ones shivered; + And the Magic Men [b] danced to appease, + in their teepee, the wrath of Waziya; + But famine and fatal disease, + like phantoms, crept into the village. + The Hard Moon [c] was past, but the moon + when the coons make their trails in the forest [d] + Grew colder and colder. The coon or the bear, + ventured not from his cover; + For the cold, cruel Arctic Simoon swept the earth + like the breath of a furnace. + In the tee of Ta-te-psin the store of wild-rice + and dried meat was exhausted; + And Famine crept in at the door, + and sat crouching and gaunt by the lodge-fire. + But now with the saddle of deer, + and the gifts, came the crafty Tamdoka; + And he said, "Lo I bring you good cheer, + for I love the blind Chief and his daughter. + Take the gifts of Tamdoka, + for dear to his heart is the dark-eyed Winona." + The aged chief opened his ears; + in his heart he already consented; + But the moans of his child and her tears + touched the age-softened heart of the father, + And he said, "I am burdened with years, + --I am bent by the snows of my winters; + Ta-te-psin will die in his tee; + let him pass to the Land of the Spirits; + But Winona is young; she is free, + and her own heart shall choose her a husband." + The dark warrior strode from the tee; + low-muttering and grim he departed. + "Let him die in his lodge," muttered he, + "but Winona shall kindle my lodge-fire." + + [a] Wild goose. + + [b] Medicine men. + + [c] January. + + [d] February. + + Then forth went Winona. The bow of Ta-te-psin + she took and his arrows, + And afar o'er the deep, drifted snow, + through the forest, she sped on her snow-shoes. + Over meadow and ice-covered mere, + through the thickets of red oak and hazel, + She followed the tracks of the deer, + but like phantoms they fled from her vision. + From sunrise till sunset she sped; + half-famished she camped in the thicket; + In the cold snow she made her lone bed; + on the buds of the birch [a] made her supper. + To the dim moon the gray owl preferred, + from the tree top, his shrill lamentation, + And around her at midnight she heard + the dread famine-cries of the gray wolves. + In the gloam of the morning again + on the trail of the red-deer she followed-- + All day long through the thickets in vain, + for the gray wolves were chasing the roebucks; + And the cold, hungry winds from the plain + chased the wolves and the deer and Winona. + + [a] The pheasant feeds on birch-buds in winter. Indians eat them when very + hungry. + + In the twilight of sundown she sat, + in the forest, all weak and despairing; + Ta-te-psin's bow lay at her feet, + and his otter skin quiver of arrows. + "He promised,--he promised," she said + --half-dreamily uttered and mournful,-- + "And why comes he not? Is he dead? + Was he slain by the crafty Tamdoka? + Must Winona, alas, make her choice + --make her choice between death and Tamdoka? + She will die but her soul will rejoice + in the far Summer-land of the spirits. + Hark! I hear his low, musical voice! + He is coming! My White Chief is coming! + Ah, no; I am half in a dream! + --'twas the mem'ry of days long departed; + But the birds of the green Summer + seem to be singing above in the branches." + Then forth from her bosom she drew + the crucified Jesus in silver. + In her dark hair the cold north wind blew, + as meekly she bent o'er the image. + "O Christ of the White man," she prayed, + "lead the feet of my brave to Kathaga; + Send a good spirit down to my aid, + or the friend of the White Chief will perish." + Then a smile on her wan features played, + and she lifted her pale face and chanted: + + "E-ye-he-kta! E-ye-he-kta! + He-kta-ce; e-ye-ce-quon. + Mi-Wamdee-ska, he-he-kta; + He-kta-ce; e-ye-ce-quon, + Mi-Wamdee-ska." + + [TRANSLATION.] + + He will come; he will come; + He will come, for he promised. + My White Eagle, he will come; + He will come, for he promised,-- + My White Eagle. + + Thus sadly she chanted, and lo + --allured by her sorrowful accents-- + From the dark covert crept a red doe + and wondrously gazed on Winona. + Then swift caught the huntress her bow; + from her trembling hand hummed the keen arrow. + Up-leaped the red gazer and fled, + but the white snow was sprinkled with scarlet, + And she fell in the oak thicket dead. + On the trail ran the eager Winona. + Half-famished the raw flesh she ate. + To the hungry maid sweet was her supper. + Then swift through the night ran her feet, + and she trailed the sleek red-deer behind her. + And the guide of her steps was a star + --the cold-glinting star of Waziya--[a] + Over meadow and hilltop afar, + on the way to the lodge of her father. + But hark! on the keen frosty air + wind the shrill hunger-howls of the gray wolves! + And nearer,--still nearer! + --the blood of the doe have they scented and follow; + Through the thicket, the meadow, + the wood, dash the pack on the trail of Winona. + Swift she speeds with her burden, + but swift on her track fly the minions of famine; + Now they yell on the view from the drift, + in the reeds at the marge of the meadow; + Red gleam their wild, ravenous eyes; + for they see on the hill-side their supper; + The dark forest echoes their cries; + but her heart is the heart of a warrior. + From its sheath snatched Winona her knife, + and a leg from the red doe she severed; + With the carcass she ran for her life, + --to a low-branching oak ran the maiden; + Round the deer's neck her head-strap [b] was tied; + swiftly she sprang to the arms of the oak-tree; + Quick her burden she drew to her side, + and higher she clomb on the branches, + While the maddened wolves battled and bled, + dealing death o'er the leg to each other; + Their keen fangs devouring the dead, + --yea, devouring the flesh of the living, + They raved and they gnashed and they growled, + like the fiends in the regions infernal; + The wide night re-echoing howled, + and the hoarse North wind laughed o'er the slaughter. + But their ravenous maws unappeased + by the blood and the flesh of their fellows, + To the cold wind their muzzles they raised, + and the trail to the oak-tree they followed. + Round and round it they howled for the prey, + madly leaping and snarling and snapping; + But the brave maiden's keen arrows slay, + till the dead number more than the living. + All the long, dreary night-time, at bay, + in the oak sat the shivering Winona; + But the sun gleamed at last, and away + skulked the gray cowards [c] down through the forest. + Then down dropped the doe and the maid. + Ere the sun reached the midst of his journey, + Her red, welcome burden she laid + at the feet of her famishing father. + + [a] Waziya's Star is the North Star. + + [b] A strap used in carrying burdens. + + [c] Wolves sometimes attack people at night but rarely if ever in the day + time. If they have followed a hunter all night, or "treed" him they will + skulk away as soon as the sun rises. + + Waziya's wild wrath was appeased, + and homeward he turned to his teepee, [3] + O'er the plains and the forest-land breezed, + from the Islands of Summer, the South wind. + From their dens came the coon and the bear; + o'er the snow through the woodlands they wandered; + On her snow shoes with stout bow and spear + on their trails ran the huntress Winona. + The coon to his den in the tree, + and the bear to his burrow she followed; + A brave, skillful hunter was she, + and Ta-te-psin's lodge laughed with abundance. + + The long winter wanes. On the wings + of the spring come the geese and the mallards; + On the bare oak the red-robin sings, + and the crocuses peep on the prairies, + And the bobolink pipes, but he brings, + of the blue-eyed, brave White Chief, no tidings. + With the waning of winter, alas, + waned the life of the aged Tatepsin; + Ere the blue pansies peeped from the grass, + to the Land of the Spirits he journeyed; + Like a babe in its slumber he passed, + or the snow from the hill tops in April; + And the dark-eyed Winona, at last, + stood alone by the graves of her kindred. + When their myriad mouths opened the trees + to the sweet dew of heaven and the rain drops, + And the April showers fell on the leas, + on his mound fell the tears of Winona. + Round her drooping form gathered the years + and the spirits unseen of her kindred, + As low, in the midst of her tears, + at the grave of her father she chanted: + + E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah ke-yay! + E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah ke-yay! + E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah ke-yay! + Ma-kah kin hay-chay-dan tay-han wan-kay. + Tu-way ne ktay snee e-yay-chen e-wah chay. + E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah ke-yay! + E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah ke-yay! + Ma-kah kin hay-chay-dan tay-han wan-kay. + + [TRANSLATION] + + Sore is my sorrow! + Sore is my sorrow! + Sore is my sorrow! + The earth alone lasts. + I speak as one dying; + Sore is my sorrow! + Sore is my sorrow! + The earth alone lasts. + + Still hope, like a star in the night + gleaming oft through the broken clouds somber, + Cheered the heart of Winona, and bright, + on her dreams, beamed the face of the Frenchman. + As the thought of a loved one and lost, + sad and sweet were her thoughts of the White Chief; + In the moon's mellow light, like a ghost, + walked Winona alone by the Ha-ha, + Ever wrapped in a dream. Far away + --to the land of the sunrise--she wandered; + On the blue rolling Tanka Mede, [a] + in the midst of her dreams, she beheld him-- + In his white-winged canoe, like a bird, + to the land of Dakotas returning; + And often in fancy she heard + the dip of his oars on the river. + On the dark waters glimmered the moon, + but she saw not the boat of the Frenchman; + On the somber night bugled the loon, + but she heard not the song of the boatmen. + The moon waxed and waned, but the star + of her hope never waned to the setting; + Through her tears she beheld it afar, + like a torch on the eastern horizon. + "He will come,--he is coming," she said; + "he will come, for my White Eagle promised," + And low to the bare earth the maid + bent her ear for the sound of his footsteps. + "He is gone, but his voice in my ear + still remains like the voice of the robin; + He is far, but his footsteps I hear; + he is coming; my White Chief is coming!" + + [a] Lake Superior,--The _Gitchee Gumee_ of the Chippewas. + + But the moon waxed and waned. Nevermore + will the eyes of Winona behold him. + Far away on the dark, rugged shore + of the blue Gitchee Gumee he lingers. + No tidings the rising sun brings; + no tidings the star of the evening; + But morning and evening she sings, + like a turtle-doe widowed and waiting; + + Ake u, ake u, ake u; + Ma cante maseca. + Ake u, ake u, ake u; + Ma cante maseca. + + Come again, come again, come again; + For my heart is sad. + Come again, come again, come again; + For my heart is sad. + + Down the broad Gitchee Seebee [a] + 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 [b] ride the birchen canoes + on the breast of the dark Gitchee Seebee; + By the willow-fringed islands 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 loitered and camped on the shore of Remnica + --the Lake of the Mountains. [c] + There the fleet hunters followed the deer, + and the thorny _pahin_ [d] for the women. + + [a] Chippewa name of the Mississippi + + [b] Wild Geese + + [c] Lake Pepin; by Hennepin called Lake of Tears--Called by the Dakotas + Remnee-chah-Mday--Lake of the Mountains. + + [d] Pah hin--the porcupine--the quill of which are greatly prized for + ornamental work. + + 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 tepee; + 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 tepee; + 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 warblers 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 steps of the enemy nigh, + --of the crafty and creeping 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 chant 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 soul 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 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 of my soul is gone,-- + The light is gone and Winona dies. + + Swift the strong hunters clomb 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. [a] + In the silence of sorrow the night + o'er the earth spread her wide, sable pinions; + And the stars [18] 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. + + [a] The Dakotas say that the spirit of Winona forever haunts the lake. + They say that it was many, many winters ago when Winona leaped from the + rock--that the rock was then perpendicular to the water's edge and she + leaped into the lake, but now the rock has worn away, or the water has + receded, so that it does not reach the foot of the rock. + + [Illustration: "DOWN THE RAGGED RAVINE OF THE MOUNTAINS." DALLES OF THE + ST LOUIS.] + + + + +THE LEGEND OF THE FALLS. + +Note: An-pe-tu Sa-pa--Clouded Day--was the name of the Dakota mother who +committed suicide, as related in this legend, by plunging over the Falls +of St. Anthony. Schoolcraft calls her "_Ampata_ Sapa." _Ampata_ is not +Dakota. There are several versions of this legend, all agreeing in the +main points. + +[Read at the celebration of the Old Settlers of Hennepin County, at the +Academy of Music, Minneapolis, July 4, 1879.] + +(The numerals refer to notes in the Appendix.) + + + On the Spirit-Island [a] sitting under midnight's misty moon, + Lo I see the spirits flitting o'er the waters one by one! + Slumber wraps the silent city, and the droning mills are dumb; + One lone whippowil's shrill ditty calls her mate that ne'er will come. + Sadly moans the mighty river, foaming down the fettered falls, + Where of old he thundered ever o'er abrupt and lofty walls. + Great Unktehee [69]--god of waters--lifts no more his mighty head;-- + Fled he with the timid otters?--lies he in the cavern dead? + + [a] The small island of rock a few rods below the Falls, was called by the + Dakotas Wanagee We-ta---Spirit-Island. They say the spirit of Anpetu Sapa + sits upon that island at night and pours forth her sorrow in song. They + also say that from time out of mind, war-eagles nested on that island, + until the advent of white men frightened them away. This seems to be true. + Carver's Travels. London. 1778, p. 71. + + Hark!--the waters hush their sighing, and the whippowil her call, + Through the moon-lit mists are flying dusky shadows silent all. + Lo from out the waters foaming--from the cavern deep and dread-- + Through the glamour and the gloaming, comes a spirit of the dead. + Sad she seems, her tresses raven on her tawny shoulders rest; + + Sorrow on her brow is graven, in her arms a babe is pressed. + Hark!--she chants the solemn story,--sings the legend sad and old, + And the river wrapt in glory listens while the tale is told. + Would you hear the legend olden, hearken while I tell the tale-- + Shorn, alas, of many a golden, weird Dakota chant and wail. + + + + +THE LEGEND. + + + Tall was young Wanata, stronger than Heyoka's [16] giant form. + Laughed at flood and fire and hunger, faced the fiercest winter storm. + When Wakinyan [32] flashed and thundered, when Unktehee raved and roared, + All but brave Wanata wondered, and the gods with fear implored. + When the war-whoop wild resounded, calling friends to meet the foe, + From the teepee swift he bounded, armed with polished lance and bow. + + In the battle's din and clangor fast his fatal arrows flew, + Flashed his fiery eyes with anger,--many a haughty foe he slew. + Hunter, swift was he and cunning, caught the beaver, slew the bear, + Overtook the roebuck running, dragged the panther from his lair. + Loved was he by many a maiden; many a dark eye glanced in vain; + Many a heart with sighs was laden for the love it might not gain. + So they called the brave "Ska Capa"; [a] but the fairest of the band-- + Moon-faced, meek Anpetu-Sapa--won the hunter's heart and hand. + + [a] Or Capa Ska--White beaver. White beavers are very rare, very cunning + and hard to catch. + + From the wars with triumph burning, from the chase of bison fleet, + To his lodge the brave returning, spread his trophies at her feet. + Love and joy sat in the tepee; him a black-eyed boy she bore; + But alas, she lived to weep a love she lost forevermore. + For the warriors chose Wanata first Itancan [a] of the band. + At the council-fire he sat a leader loved a chieftain grand. + Proud was fair Anpetu-Sapa, and her eyes were glad with joy; + Proud was she and very happy, with her chieftain and her boy. + But alas, the fatal honor that her brave Wanata won, + Brought a bitter woe upon her,--hid with clouds the summer sun + For among the brave Dakotas, wives bring honor to the chief. + On the vine-clad Minnesota's banks he met the Scarlet Leaf. + Young and fair was Ape-duta [b]--full of craft and very fair; + Proud she walked a queen of beauty with her wondrous flowing hair. + In her net of hair she caught him--caught Wanata with her wiles; + All in vain his wife besought him--begged in vain his wonted smiles. + Ape-duta ruled the teepee--all Wanata's smiles were hers; + When the lodge was wrapped in sleep a star [c] beheld the mother's tears. + Long she strove to do her duty for the black-eyed babe she bore; + But the proud, imperious beauty made her sad forevermore. + Still she dressed the skins of beaver, bore the burdens, spread the fare; + Patient ever, murmuring never, while her cheeks were creased with care. + + [a] E-tan-can--Chief. + + + [b] A-pe--leaf,--duta--Scarlet,--Scarlet leaf. + + + [c] Stars, the Dakotas say, are the faces of departed friends and + relatives on earth. + + In the moon Maga-o-Kada, [71] twice an hundred years ago-- + Ere the "Black Robe's" [a] sacred shadow + stalked the prairies' pathless snow + Down the swollen, rushing river, in the sunset's golden hues, + From the hunt of bear and beaver came the band in swift canoes. + On the queen of fairy islands, on the Wita-Waste's [b] shore, + Camped Wanata, on the highlands, just above the cataract's roar. + Many braves were with Wanata; Ape-duta, too, was there, + And the sad Anpetu-sapa spread the lodge with wonted care. + Then above the leafless prairie leaped the fat faced, laughing moon, + And the stars--the spirits fairy--walked the welkin one by one. + Swift and silent in the gloaming on the waste of waters blue, + Speeding downward to the foaming, shot Wanata's birch canoe, + In it stood Anpetu-sapa--in her arms her sleeping child; + Like a wailing Norse-land _drapa_ [c] rose her death-song weird and wild: + + Mihihna, [d] Mihihna, my heart is stone; + The light is gone from my longing eyes; + The wounded loon in the lake alone + Her death-song sings to the moon and dies. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, the path is long. + The burden is heavy and hard to bear; + I sink,--I die, and my dying song + Is a song of joy to the false one's ear. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, my young heart flew + Far away with my brave to the bison-chase; + To the battle it went with my warrior true, + And never returned till I saw his face. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, my brave was glad + When he came from the chase of the roebuck fleet; + Sweet were the words that my hunter said, + As his trophies he laid at Anpetu's feet. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, the boy I bore-- + When the robin sang and my brave was true, + I can bear to look on his face no more. + For he looks, Mihihna, so much like you. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, the Scarlet Leaf + Has robbed my boy of his father's love; + He sleeps in my arms--he will find no grief + In the star-lit lodge in the land above. + + Mihihna, Mihihna, my heart is stone, + The light is gone from my longing eyes; + The wounded loon in the lake alone, + Her death-song sings to the moon and dies. + + [a] The Dakotas called the Jesuit priests "Black Robes" from the color of + their vestments. + + [b] Wee tah Wah-stay--Beautiful Island,--the Dakota name for Nicollet + Island just above the Falls. + + [c] _Drapa_, a Norse funeral wail in which the virtues of the + deceased are recounted. + + [d] Mee heen-yah--My husband. + + Swiftly down the turbid torrent, as she sung her song she flew; + Like a swan upon the current, dancing rode the light canoe. + Hunters hurry in the gloaming, all in vain Wanata calls; + Singing through the surges foaming, lo she plunges o'er the Falls. + + Long they search the sullen river--searched for leagues along the shore, + Bark or babe or mother never saw the sad Dakotas more; + But at night or misty morning oft the hunters heard her song, + Oft the maidens heard her warning in their mellow mother-tongue. + + On the bluffs they sat enchanted till the blush of beamy dawn; + Spirit Isle they say, is haunted, and they call the spot "Wakan." [a] + Many summers on the highland, in the full-moon's golden glow-- + In the woods on Fairy Island, [b] walked a snow white fawn and doe + Spirits of the babe and mother sadly seeking evermore, + For a father's love another turned with evil charm and power. + + [a] Pronounced Walk on--Sacred, inhabited by a Spirit. + + [b] Fairy Island--Wita Waste--Nicollet Island. + + Sometimes still when moonbeams shimmer through the maples on the lawn, + In the gloaming and the glimmer walk the silent doe and fawn; + And on Spirit-Isle or near it, under midnight's misty moon, + Oft is seen the mother's spirit, oft is heard her mournful tune. + + [Illustration: SCENE ON THUNDER BAY, LAKE SUPERIOR.] + + + + +THE SEAGULL. [101] + +THE LEGEND OF THE PICTURED ROCKS OF LAKE SUPERIOR. OJIBWAY. + +IN THE MEASURE OF HIAWATHA + +(The numerals 1 2 etc., refer to Notes to Sea-Gull in Appendix.) + + + On the shore of Gitchee Gumee--[102] + Deep, mysterious, mighty waters--Where the manitoes--the spirits-- + Ride the storms and speak in thunder, + In the days of Neme-Shomis, [103] + In the days that are forgotten, + Dwelt a tall and tawny hunter-- + Gitchee Pez-ze-u--the panther, + Son of Waub-Ojeeg, [104] 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, [105] 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 star light. + 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 [106] + 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, + 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 Kak-kah-ge--the Raven. + With a snare he caught the rabbit-- + Caught Wabose, the furry footed, [107] + Caught Penay, the forest drummer; [107] + 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, + Smoked and sat 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 leggings, + Decked his hood with quills and feathers-- + Colored quills of Kaug, the thorny, [108] + Feathers from Kenew--the eagle. [108] + 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, [109] + 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, [1010] + 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 leggings, + 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, [1011] + Till a magic mead she gave him, + Brewed of buds of birch and cedar. [1012]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 tail 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 he 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-- + Sometime 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 marches; + 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 Mighty Spirit, + Made her lowly lamentation: + "Wahonowin!--Wahonowin!" [1013] + Gitchee Manito, bena nin! + Nah, Ba-ba, showain nemeshin! + "Wahonowin!--Wahonowin!" + + Ka-be-bon-ik-ka, the mighty, [109] + He that sends the cruel winter, + From the distant Thunder-mountain, + On the shore of Gitchee Gumee-- + On the rugged northern limit, + Sent his solemn, final warning, + Sent the white wolves of the Nor'land [1014] + Like the dust of stars in ether-- + In the Pathway of the Spirits. [1015] + 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. [1016] + 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 ice-bergs, + 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 [1017] + Fell the feathery snow and covered, + All the marshes and the meadows, + All the hill-tops and the highlands. + Then old Peboan--the winter--[1018] + 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 refulgent, + Sprinkling somber shades 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 + Smouldered 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 smouldered, + Smouldered 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 the foe of Winter. [1019] + 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 Peboan, the Winter, + Strode Segun and quickly entered. + There old Peboan 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 Peboan--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 Peboan 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 hill-sides, + 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 Peboan replying: + "Nah! [1020] 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! [1020]--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 blue-bird, + And the woods are full of music. + With my breath I melt their fetters, + And the brooks leap laughing onward." + + Then old Peboan looked upon him, + Looked and knew Segun, the Summer, + From his eyes the big tears started + And his boastful tongue was silent. + + Now Keezis [1021]--the great life-giver, + From his wigwam in Waubu-nong [1021] + 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 [1022] 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 Peboan's eyes the teardrops + Down his pale face ran in streamlets; + Less and less he grew in stature + Till he melted doun to nothing; + And behold, from out the ashes, + From the ashes of his lodge-fire, + Sprang the Miscodeed [1023] 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 cords, 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 sank 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, + Searched the islands and the highlands; + 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 foot-prints. + 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." [1024] + + 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--[1021] + 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 die 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, + Sang a lullaby 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 might 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 [1025] 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 head-lands, + Roared and plashed 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. + Then 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 water, + 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 together [1026] + Walked the Sea-Gull and the Panther. + To the far-off Sunny Islands-- + To the Summer-Land of Spirits, + 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, + Sea-Gull journeyed with her husband. + 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, the prophets. [1027] + + [Illustration: CRYSTAL BAY, LAKE MINNETONKA.] + + + + +MINNETONKA + +Note: The Dakota name for this beautiful lake is _Me-ne-a-tan-ka_--Broad +Water. By dropping the a before tanka, we have changed the name to _Big +Water_. + + + I sit once more on breezy shore, at sunset in this glorious June. + I hear the dip of gleaming oar. I list the singer's merry tune. + Beneath my feet the waters beat and ripple on the polished stones. + The squirrel chatters from his seat: the bag-pipe beetle hums and drones. + The pink and gold in blooming wold,--the green hills mirrored in the lake! + The deep, blue waters, zephyr-rolled, along the murmuring pebbles break. + The maples screen the ferns, and lean the leafy lindens o'er the deep; + The sapphire, set in emerald green, lies like an Orient gem asleep. + The crimsoned west glows like the breast of _Rhuddin_ [a] + when he pipes in May, + As downward droops the sun to rest, and shadows gather on the bay. + + [a] The Welsh name for the robin. + + In amber sky the swallows fly, and sail and circle o'er the deep; + The light-winged night-hawks whir and cry; the silver pike and salmon leap. + The rising moon, the woods aboon, looks laughing down on lake and lea; + Weird o'er the waters shrills the loon; the high stars twinkle in the sea. + From bank and hill the whippowil sends piping forth his flute-like notes, + And clear and shrill the answers trill from leafy isles and silver throats. + The twinkling light on cape and height; the hum of voices on the shores; + The merry laughter on the night; the dip and plash of frolic oars,-- + These tell the tale. On hill and dale the cities pour their gay and fair; + Along the sapphire lake they sail, and quaff like wine the balmy air. + + 'Tis well. Of yore from isle and shore + the smoke of Indian teepees [a] rose; + The hunter plied the silent oar; the forest lay in still repose. + The moon-faced maid, in leafy glade, her warrior waited from the chase; + The nut-brown, naked children played, and chased the gopher on the grass. + The dappled fawn, on wooded lawn, peeped out upon the birch canoe, + Swift-gliding in the gray of dawn along the silent waters blue. + In yonder tree the great _Wanm-dee_ [b] securely built her spacious nest; + The blast that swept the land-locked sea [c] + but rocked her clamorous babes to rest. + By grassy mere the elk and deer gazed on the hunter as he came; + Nor fled with fear from bow or spear;--"so wild were they that they were + tame." + + [a] Lodges. + + [b] Wanm-dee--the war-eagle of the Dakotas. + + [c] Lake Superior. + + Ah, birch canoe, and hunter, too, have long forsaken lake and shore: + He bade his father's bones adieu and turned away forevermore. + But still, methinks, on dusky brinks the spirit of the warrior moves; + At crystal springs the hunter drinks, and nightly haunts the spot he loves. + For oft at night I see the light of lodge-fires on the shadowy shores, + And hear the wail some maiden's sprite above her slaughtered warrior pours. + I hear the sob on Spirit Knob [a] of Indian mother o'er her child; + And on the midnight waters throb her low _yun-he-he's_ [b] weird and wild. + And sometimes, too, the light canoe glides like a shadow o'er the deep + At midnight, when the moon is low, and all the shores are hushed in sleep. + + [a] Spirit Knob is a small hill up on a point in the lake in full view + from Wayzata. The spirit of a Dakota mother whose only child was drowned + in the lake during a storm, many, many years ago often wails at midnight + (so the Dakotas say), on this hill. So they called it _Wa-na-gee + Pa-ze-dan_--Spirit Knob. (Literally--little hill of the spirit.) + + [b] Pronounced _Yoon-hay-hay_--the exclamation used by Dakota women + in their lament for the dead, and equivalent to "woe is me." + + Alas--Alas!--for all things pass; and we shall vanish, too, as they; + We build our monuments of brass, and granite, but they waste away. + + + + +FOOTNOTES: + + +[Footnote 1: Called in the Dakota tongue "Hok-see-win-na-pee +Wo-han-pee"--Virgins Dance (or Feast).] + +[Footnote 2: One of the favorite and most exciting games of the Dakotas +is ball-playing. A smooth place on the prairie, or in winter, on a +frozen lake or river, is chosen. Each player has a sort of bat, called +"Ta-kee-cha-pse-cha," about thirty two inches long with a hoop at the +lower end four or five inches in diameter, interlaced with thongs of +deer-skin, forming a sort of pocket. With these bats they catch and +throw the ball. Stakes are set as bounds at a considerable distance from +the centre on either side. Two parties are then formed, and each chooses +a leader or chief. The ball (Ta-pa) is then thrown up half way between +the bounds, and the game begins, the contestants contending with their +bats for the ball as it falls. When one succeeds in getting it fairly in +the pocket of his bat he swings it aloft and throws it as far as he can +towards the bound to which his party is working, taking care to send it, +if possible, where some of his own side will take it up. Thus the ball +is thrown and contended for till one party succeeds in casting it +beyond the bound of the opposite party. A hundred players on a side are +sometimes engaged in this exciting game. Betting on the result often +runs high. Moccasins, pipes, knives, hatchets, blankets, robes and guns +are hung on the prize-pole. Not unfrequently horses are staked on the +issue, and sometimes even women. Old men and mothers are among the +spectators praising their swift-footed sons, and young wives and maidens +are there to stimulate their husbands and lovers. This game is not +confined to the warriors, but is also a favorite amusement of the Dakota +maidens who generally play for prizes offered by the chief or warriors. +See Neill's Hist. Minn. pp 74-5; Riggs' "Takoo Wakan," pp 44-5, and Mrs +Eastman's Dacotah, p 55.] + +[Footnote 3: Pronounced Wah-zee-yah. The god of the North, or Winter. A +fabled spirit who dwells in the frozen North, in a great teepee of +ice and snow. From his mouth and nostrils he blows the cold blasts of +winter. He and "I-to-ka-ga Wi-cas-ta"--the spirit or god of the South +(literally the "South Man"), are inveterate enemies, and always on the +war-path against each other. In winter Wa-zi-ya advances southward and +drives "I-to-ka-ga Wi-cas-ta" before him to the Summer-Islands. But in +Spring the god of the South, having renewed his youth and strength, in +the "Happy Hunting Grounds," is able to drive Wa-zi-ya back again to +his icy wigwam in the North. Some Dakotas say that the numerous granite +boulders, scattered over the prairies of Minnesota and Dakota, were +hurled in battle by Wa-zi-ya from his home in the North at "I-to-ka-ga +Wi-cas-ta." The Wa-zi-ya of the Dakotas is substantially the name as +"_Ka-be-bon-ik-ka_"--the "Winter-maker" of the Ojibways.] + +[Footnote 4: Mendota--(meeting of the waters) at the confluence of the +Mississippi and Minnesota rivers. See view of the valley--front cut. The +true Dakota word is Mdo te--applied to the mouth of a river flowing into +another,--also to the outlet of a lake.] + +[Footnote 5: Pronounced Wee-wah-stay; literally--a beautiful virgin, or +woman.] + +[Footnote 6: Cetan-wa-ka-wa-mani--"He who shoots pigeon-hawks +walking"--was the full Dakota name of the grandfather of the celebrated +"Little Crow" (Ta-o-ya-te-du-ta.--His Red People) who led his warriors +in the terrible outbreak in Minnesota in 1862-3. The Chippewas called +the grandfather "Ka-ka-kee"--crow or raven--from his war-badge, a +crow-skin; and hence the French traders and _courriers du bois_ called +him "_Petit Corbeau_"--Little Crow. This sobriquet, of which he was +proud, descended to his son, Wakinyan Tanka--Big Thunder, who succeeded +him as chief; and from Big Thunder to his son Ta-o-ya-te-du-ta, who +became chief on the death of Wakinyan Tanka. These several "Little +Crows" were successively Chiefs of the Light-foot, or Kapoza band of +Dakotas. Kapoza, the principal village of this band, was originally +located on the east bank of the Mississippi near the site of the city +of St. Paul. Col. Minn. Hist. Soc., 1864, p. 29. It was in later years +moved to the west bank. The grandfather, whom I, for short, call Wakawa, +died the death of a brave in battle against the Ojibways (commonly +called Chippewas)--the hereditary enemies of the Dakotas. Wakinyan +Tanka.--Big Thunder, was killed by the accidental discharge of his own +gun. They were both buried with their kindred near the "Wakan Teepee," +the sacred Cave--(Carver's Cave). Ta-o-ya-te-du-ta, the last of the +Little Crows, was killed July 3, 1863, near Hutchinson, Minnesota, by +one Lamson, and his bones were duly "done up" for the Historical Society +of Minnesota. For a part of the foregoing information I am indebted +to Gen. H. H. Sibley. See Heard's Hist. Sioux War, and Neill's Hist. +Minnesota, Third Edition.] + +[Footnote 7: Harps-te-nah. The first-born _daughter_ of a Dakota is +called Winona; the second, Harpen; the third, Harpstina; the fourth. +Waska; the fifth, Weharka. The first born _son_ is called Chaske; the +second, Harpam; the third, Hapeda; the fourth, Chatun; the fifth, Harka. +They retain these names till others are given them on account of some +action, peculiarity, etc. The females often retain their child-names +through life.] + +[Footnote 8: Wah-pah-sah was the hereditary name of a long and +illustrious lineof Dakota Chiefs. Wabashaw is a corrupt pronounciation. +The name is a contraction of "Wa-pa-ha-sa," which is from "Wa-ha-pa," +the standard or pole used in the Dakota dances, and upon which feathers +of various colors are tied, and not from "Wa-pa"--leaf or leaves, as has +been generally supposed. Therefore Wapasa means the Standard--and not +the "Leaf-Shaker," as many writers have it. The principal village of +these hereditary Chiefs was Ke-uk-sa, or Ke-o-sa,--where now stands the +fair city of Winona. Ke-uk-sa signifies--The village of law-breakers; +so-called because this band broke the law or custom of the Dakotas +against marrying blood relatives of any degree. I get this information +from Rev. Stephen R. Riggs, author of the Dakota Grammar and Dictionary, +"_Takoo Wakan_," etc. Wapasa, grandfather of the last Chief of that +name, and a contemporary of Cetan-Wa-ka-wa-mani, was a noted Chief, +and a friend of the British in the war of the Revolution. Neill's Hist. +Minn., pp. 225-9.] + +[Footnote 9: E-ho, E-to--Exclamations of surprise and delight.] + +[Footnote 10: Mah-gah--The wild-goose.] + +[Footnote 11: Tee-pee--A lodge or wigwam, often contracted to "tee."] + +[Footnote 12: Pronounced Mahr-pee-yah-doo-tah--literally, Cloud Red.] + +[Footnote 13: Pronounced Wahnmdee--The War-Eagle. Each feather worn by a +warrior represents an enemy slain or captured--man, woman or child; but +the Dakotas, before they became desperate under the cruel warfare of +their enemies, generally spared the lives of their captives, and never +killed women or infants, except in rare instances, under the _lex +talionis_. Neill's Hist. Minn., p. 112.] + +[Footnote 14: Mah-to--The polar bear--_ursus maritimus_. The Dakotas say +that, in olden times, white bears were often found about Rainy Lake +and the Lake of the Woods, in winter, and sometimes as far south as the +mouth of the Minnesota. They say one was once killed at White Bear Lake +(but a few miles from St. Paul and Minneapolis), and they therefore +named the lake Mede Mato--White Bear Lake.] + +[Footnote 15: The Ho-he (Ho-hay) are the Assiniboins or +"Stone-roasters." Their home is the region of the Assiniboin river in +British America. They speak the Dakota tongue, and originally were a +band of that nation. Tradition says a Dakota "Helen" was the cause of +the separation and a bloody feud that lasted for many years. The Hohes +are called "Stone roasters," because, until recently at least, they used +"Wa-ta-pe" kettles and vessels made of birch bark in which they cooked +their food. They boiled water in these vessels by heating stones and +putting them in the water. The "wa-ta-pe" kettle is made of the fibrous +roots of the white cedar, interlaced and tightly woven. When the vessel +is soaked it becomes watertight. (Footnote Snelling's) Tales of the +North west, p 21. Mackenzie's Travels.] + +[Footnote 16: Hey-o-ka is one of the principal Dakota deities. He is a +Giant, but can change himself into a buffalo, a bear, a fish or a bird. +He is called the Anti-natural God or Spirit. In summer he shivers with +cold, in winter he suffers from heat; he cries when he laughs and he +laughs when he cries, &c. He is the reverse of nature in all things. +Heyoka is universally feared and reverenced by the Dakotas, but so +severe is the ordeal that the Heyoka Wacipee (the dance to Heyoka) is +now rarely celebrated. It is said that the "Medicine-men" use a secret +preparation which enables them to handle fire and dip their hands in +boiling water without injury, and thereby gain great _eclat_ from the +uninitiated. The chiefs and the leading warriors usually belong to the +secret order of "Medicine-men," or "Sons of Unktehee"--the Spirit of the +Waters.] + +[Footnote 17: The Dakota name for the moon is Han-ye-tu-wee--literally, +Night-Sun. He is the twin brother of An-pe-tu-wee--the Day Sun. See note +70.] + +[Footnote 18: The Dakotas believe that the stars are the spirits of +their departed friends.] + +[Footnote 19: Tee--Contracted from teepee, lodge or wigwam, and means +the same.] + +[Footnote 20: For all their sacred feasts the Dakotas kindle a new +fire called "The Virgin Fire." This is done with flint and steel, or by +rubbing together pieces of wood till friction produces fire. It must be +done by a virgin, nor must any woman, except a virgin, ever touch the +"sacred armor" of a Dakota warrior. White cedar is "Wakan"--sacred. See +note 50. Riggs' "Tahkoo Wakan," p. 84.] + +[Footnote 21: All Northern Indians consider the East a mysterious +and sacred land whence comes the sun. The Dakota name for the East is +Wee-yo-hee-yan-pa--the sunrise. The Ojibways call it Waub-o-nong--the +white land or land of light, and they have many myths, legends and +traditions relating thereto. Barbarous peoples of all times have +regarded the East with superstitious reverence, simply because the sun +rises in that quarter.] + +[Footnote 22: See Mrs. Eastman's Dacotah, pp. 225-8, describing the +feast to Heyoka.] + +[Footnote 23: This stone from which the Dakotas have made their pipes +for ages, is esteemed "wakan"--sacred. They call it I-yan-ska, probably +from "iya," to speak, and "ska," white, truthful, peaceful,--hence, +peace-pipe, herald of peace, pledge of truth, etc. In the cabinet at +Albany, N.Y., there is a very ancient pipe of this material which the +Iroquois obtained from the Dakotas. Charlevoix speaks of this pipe-stone +in his History of New France. LeSueur refers to the Yanktons as the +village of the Dakotas at the Red-Stone Quarry, See Neill's Hist. Minn., +p. 514.] + +[Footnote 24: "Ho" is an exclamation of approval---yea, yes, bravo.] + +[Footnote 25: Buying is the honorable way of taking a wife among the +Dakotas. The proposed husband usually gives a horse or its, value +in other articles to the father or natural guardian of the woman +selected--sometimes against her will. See note 75.] + +[Footnote 26: The Dakotas believe that the _Aurora Borealis_ is an +evil omen and the threatening of an evil spirit, (perhaps Waziya, the +Winter-god--some say a witch, or a very ugly old woman). When the lights +appear, danger threatens, and the warriors shoot at, and often slay, the +evil spirit, but it rises from the dead again.] + +[Footnote 27: Se-so-kah--The Robin.] + +[Footnote 28: The spirit of Anpetu-sapa that haunts the Falls of St. +Anthony with her dead babe in her arms. See the Legend in Neill's Hist. +Minn., or my "Legend of the Falls."] + +[Footnote 29: Mee-coonk-shee--My daughter.] + +[Footnote 30: The Dakotas call the meteor, "Wakan-denda" (sacred fire) +and Wakan-wohlpa (sacred gift.) Meteors are messengers from the Land +of Spirits, warning of impending danger. It is a curious fact that the +"sacred stone" of the Mohammedans, in the Kaaba at Mecca, is a meteoric +stone, and obtains its sacred character from the fact that it fell from +heaven. 31: Kah-no-te-dahn--The little, mysterious dweller in the woods. +This spirit lives in the forest in hollow trees. Mrs. Eastman's Dacotah, +Pre. Rem. xxxi. "The Dakota god of the woods--an unknown animal said to +resemble a man, which the Dakotas worship; perhaps, the monkey." Riggs' +Dakota Dic. Tit--_Canotidan_.] + +[Footnote 32: The Dakotas believe that thunder is produced by the +flapping of the wings of an immense bird which they call Wakinyan--the +Thunder-bird. Near the source of the Minnesota River is a place called +"Thunder-Tracks" where the foot-prints of a "Thunder-bird" are seen on +the rocks twenty-five miles apart. Mrs. Eastman's Dacotah, p. 71. There +are many Thunder-birds. The father of all the Thunder-birds--"Wakinyan +Tanka"--or "Big Thunder," has his teepee on a lofty mountain in the far +West. His teepee has four openings, at each of which is a sentinel; at +the east, a butterfly; at the west, a bear; at the south, a red deer; +at the north, a caribou. He has a bitter enmity against Unktehee (god +of waters) and often shoots his fiery arrows at him, and hits the earth, +trees, rocks, and sometimes men. Wakinyan created wild-rice, the bow and +arrow, the tomahawk and the spear. He is a great war-spirit, and Wanmdee +(the war-eagle) is his messenger. A Thunder-bird (say the Dakotas) was +once killed near Kapoza by the son of Cetan-Wakawa-mani, and he there +upon took the name of "Wakinyan Tanka"--"Big Thunder."] + +[Footnote 33: Pronounced Tah-tahn-kah--Bison or Buffalo.] + +[Footnote 34: Enah--An exclamation of wonder. Eho--Behold! see there!] + +[Footnote 35: The Crees are the Knisteneaux of Alexander Mackenzie. +See his account of them, Mackenzie's Travels, (London 1801) p. xci. to +cvii.] + +[Footnote 36: Lake Superior. The only names the Dakotas have for +Lake Superior are Mede Tanka or Tanka Mede--Great Lake, and +Me-ne-ya-ta--literally, _At-the-Water_.] + +[Footnote 37: April--Literally, the moon when the geese lay eggs. See +note 71.] + +[Footnote 38: Carver's Cave at St. Paul was called by the Dakotas "Wakan +Teepee"--sacred lodge. In the days that are no more, they lighted their +Council-fires in this cave, and buried their dead near it. See Neill's +Hist. Minn., p. 207. Capt. Carver in his _Travels_, London, 1778, p. 63, +et seq., describes this cave as follows: "It is a remarkable cave of an +amazing depth. The Indians term it Wakon-teebe, that is, the Dwelling +of the Great Spirit. The entrance into it is about ten feet wide, the +height of it five feet, the arch within is near fifteen feet high and +about thirty feet broad. The bottom of it consists of fine clear sand. +About twenty feet from the entrance begins a lake, the water of which is +transparent, and extends to an unsearchable distance; for the darkness +of the cave prevents all attempts to acquire a knowledge of it. I threw +a small pebble towards the interior parts of it with my utmost strength. +I could hear that it fell into the water, and notwithstanding it was +of so small a size, it caused an astonishing and horrible noise that +reverberated through all those gloomy regions. I found in this cave many +Indian hieroglyphics, which appeared very ancient, for time had nearly +covered them with moss, so that it was with difficulty I could trace +them. They were cut in a rude manner upon the inside of the walls, +which were composed of a stone so extremely soft that it might be +easily penetrated with a knife: a stone everywhere to be found near the +Mississippi. This cave is only accessible by ascending a narrow, steep +passage that lies near the brink of the river. At a little distance +from this dreary cavern is the burying-place of several bands of the +Naudowessie (Dakota) Indians." Many years ago the roof fell in, but the +cave has been partially restored and is now used as a beer cellar.] + +[Footnote 39: Wah-kahn-dee--The lightning.] + +[Footnote 40: The Bloody River--the Red River was so-called on account +of the numerous Indian battles that have been fought on its banks. The +Chippewas say that its waters were colored red by the blood of many +warriors slain on its banks in the fierce wars between themselves and +the Dakotas.] + +[Footnote 41: Tah--The Moose. This is the root-word for all ruminating +animals; Ta-tanka, buffalo---Ta-toka mountain antelope--Ta-hinca, the +red-deer--Ta-mdoka, the buck deer---Ta-hinca-ska, white deer (sheep).] + +[Footnote 42: Hogahn--Fish. Red Hogan, the trout.] + +[Footnote 43: Tipsanna (often called _tipsinna_) is a wild prairie +turnip used for food by the Dakotas. It grows on high, dry land, and +increases from year to year. It is eaten both cooked and raw.] + +[Footnote 44: Rio Tajo, (or Tagus), a river of Spain and Portugal.] + +[Footnote 45: + + "* * * * Bees of Trebizond-- + Which from the sunniest flowers that glad + With their pure smile the gardens round, + Draw venom forth that drives men mad." + + --_Thomas Moore_] + +[Footnote 46: Skee-skah--The Wood duck.] + +[Footnote 47: The Crocus. I have seen the prairies in Minnesota spangled +with these beautiful flowers in various colors before the ground was +entirely free from frost. The Datotas call them frost-flowers.] + +[Footnote 48: The "Sacred Ring" around the feast of the Virgins is +formed by armed warriors sitting, and none but a virgin must enter this +ring. The warrior who knows is bound on honor, and by old and sacred +custom, to expose and publicly denounce any tarnished maiden who dares +to enter this ring, and his word cannot be questioned--even by the +chief. See Mrs Eastman's Dacotah, p. 64.] + +[Footnote 49: Prairie's Pride.--This annual shrub, which abounds on many +of the sandy prairies in Minnesota, is sometimes called "tea-plant," +"sage-plant," and "red-root willow." I doubt if it has any botanic +name. Its long plumes of purple and gold are truly the "pride of the +prairies."] + +[Footnote 50: The Dakotas consider white cedar "Wakan," (sacred). They +use sprigs of it at their feasts, and often burn it to destroy the power +of evil spirits. Mrs Eastman's Dacotah, p. 210.] + +[Footnote 51: Tahkoo-skahng-skang.--This deity is supposed to be +invisible, yet everywhere present; he is an avenger and a searcher of +hearts. (Neill's Hist. Minn., p. 57.) I suspect he was the chief spirit +of the Dakotas before the missionaries imported "Wakan Tanka"--(Great +Spirit).] + +[Footnote 52: The Dakotas believe in "were-wolves" as firmly as did our +Saxon ancestors, and for similar reasons--the howl of the wolf being +often imitated as a decoy or signal by their enemies, the Ojibways.] + +[Footnote 53: Shee-sho-kah--The Robin.] + +[Footnote 54: The Dakotas cail the Evening Star the "_Virgin Star_," and +believe it to be the spirit of the virgin wronged at the feast.] + +[Footnote 55: Mille Lacs. This lake was discovered by DuLuth, and by +him named Lac Buade, in honor of Governor Frontenac of Canada, whose +familyname was Buade. The Dakota name for it is Mde Waksan--Spirit +Lake.] + +[Footnote 56: The Ojibways imitate the hoot of the owl and the howl of +the wolf to perfection, and often use these cries as signals to each +other in war and the chase.] + +[Footnote 57: The Dakotas called the Ojibways the "Snakes of the +Forest," on account of their lying in ambush for their enemies.] + +[Footnote 58: Strawberries.] + +[Footnote 59: See-yo--The Prairie-hen.] + +[Footnote 60: Mahgah--The Wild-goose. _Fox-pups_. I could never see the +propriety of calling the young of foxes _kits_ or _kittens_, which mean +_little cats_. The fox belongs to the _canis_, or dog family and not the +_felis_, or cat family. If it is proper to call the young of dogs and +wolves _pups_, it is equally proper to so call the young of foxes.] + +[Footnote 61: When a Dakota is sick, he thinks the spirit of an enemy or +some animal has entered into his body, and the principal business of the +"medicine man"--_Wicasta Wakan_--is to cast out the "unclean spirit," +with incantations and charms. See Neill's Hist. Minn., pp. 66--8. The +Jews entertained a similar belief in the days of Jesus of Nazareth.] + +[Footnote 62: Wah-zee-yah's star--The North-star. See note 3.] + +[Footnote 63: The Dakotas, like our forefathers and all other +barbarians, believe in witches and witchcraft.] + +[Footnote 64: The Medo is a wild potato, it resembles the sweet potato +in top and taste. It grows in bottom-lands, and is much prized by the +Dakotas for food. The "Dakota Friend," for December, 1850.] + +[Footnote 65: The meteor--Wakan denda--Sacred fire.] + +[Footnote 66: Meetahwin--My bride.] + +[Footnote 67: Stoke--The body of a tree. This is an old English word of +Saxon origin, now changed to _stock_.] + +[Footnote 68: The _Via Lactea_ or Milky Way. The Dakotas call it +_Wanagee-Tach-anku_--The path-way of the spirits and believe that over +this path the spirits of the dead pass to the Spirit-land. See Riggs' +Tah-koo Wah-kan, p. 101.] + +[Footnote 69: Oonk-tay-hee--There are many Unktehees, children of the +Great Unktehee, who created the earth and man and who formerly dwelt +in a vast cavern under the Falls of St. Anthony. The Unktehee sometimes +reveals himself in the form of a huge buffalo-bull. From him proceed +invisible influences. The Great Unktehee created the earth. "Assembling +in grand conclave all the aquatic tribes he ordered them to bring up +dirt from beneath the waters, and proclaimed death to the disobedient. +The beaver and otter forfeited their lives. At last the muskrat went +beneath the waters, and, after a long time appeared at the surface, +nearly exhausted, with some dirt. From this, Unktehee fashioned the +earth into a large circular plain. The earth being finished, he took a +deity, one of his own offspring, and grinding him to powder, sprinkled +it upon the earth, and this produced many worms. The worms were then +collected and scattered again. They matured into infants and these were +then collected and scattered and became full-grown Dakotas. The bones +of the mastodon, the Dakotas think, are the bones of Unktehees, and they +preserve the with the greatest care in the medicine bag." Neill's Hist. +Minn., p. 55. The Unktehees and the Thunder-birds are perpetually it +war. There are various accounts of the creation of man. Some say that +at the bidding of the Great Unktehee, men sprang full grown from the +caverns of the earth. See Riggs' "Tah-koo Wah-kan," and Mrs Eastman's +Dacotah. The Great Unktehee and the Great Thunder-bird had a terrible +battle in the bowels of the earth to determine which should be the ruler +of the world. See description in Legend of Winona.] + +[Footnote 70: Prononced Ahng-pay-too-wee--The Sun; literally the Day +Sun, thus distinguishing him from Han-ye-tuwee (Hahng-yay-too-wee) the +night sun, (the moon). They are twin brothers but Anpetuwee is the more +powerful Han-ye-tuwee receives his power from his brother and obeys him. +He watches over the earth while the Sun sleeps. The Dakotas believe the +sun is the father of life. Unlike the most of their other gods, he is +beneficent and kind; yet they worship him (in the sun-dance) in the most +dreadful manner. See Riggs' "Tah-koo Wah-kan," pp. 81-2, and Catlin's +Riggs' "Okee-pa." The moon is worshipped as the representative of the +sun; and in the great Sun-dance, which is usually held in the full of +the moon, when the moon rises the dancers turn their eyes on her (or +him). Anpetuwee issues every morning from the lodge of Han-nan-na (the +Morning) and begins his journey over the sky to his lodge in the land +of shadows. Sometimes he walks over on the Bridge (or path) of the +Spirits--Wanagee Ta-chan-ku,--and sometimes he sails over the sea of +the skies in his shining canoe; but _somehow_, and the Dakotas do not +explain how, he gets back again to the lodge of Hannanna in time to take +a nap and eat his breakfast before starting anew on his journey. The +Dakotas swear by the sun. "_As Anpe-tu-wee hears me, this is true_!" +They call him Father and pray to him --"_Wakan! Ate, on-she-ma-da._" +"Sacred Spirit,--Father, have mercy on me." As the Sun is the father, +so they believe the Earth is the mother, of life. Truly there is +much philosophy in the Dakota mythology. The Algonkins call the earth +"_Me-suk-kum-mik-o-kwa_"--the great-grandmother of all. Narrative of +John Tanner, p. 193.] + +[Footnote 71: The Dakotas reckon their months by _moon_. They name their +moons from natural circumstances. They correspond very nearly with our +months, as follows: + +January--Wee-te-rhee--The Hard Moon, i.e.--the cold moon. + +February--Wee-ca-ta-wee--The Coon Moon. + +March--Ista-wee-ca-ya-zang-wee--the sore eyes moon (from snow +blindness.) + +April--Maga-oka-da-wee--the moon when the geese lay eggs; also called +Wokada-wee--egg-moon, and sometimes Wato-papee-wee, the canoe moon, or +moon when the streams become free from ice. + +May--Wo-zu-pee-wee--the planting moon. + +June--Wazu-ste-ca-sa-wee--the strawberry moon. + +July--Wa-sun-pa-wee--moon when the geese shed their feathers, +also called Chang-pa-sapa-wee--Choke-Cherry moon, and +sometimes--Mna-rcha-rhca-wee--"The moon of the red blooming lilies", +literally, the red-lily moon. + +August--Wasu-ton-wee--the ripe moon, i.e. Harvest Moon. + +September--Psin-na-ke-tu-wee--the ripe rice moon. + +October--Wa-zu-pee-wee or Wee-wa-zu-pee--the moon when wild rice is +gathered and laid up for winter. + +November--Ta-kee-yu-hra-wee--the deer-rutting moon. + +December--Ta-he-cha-psung-wee--the moon when deer shed their horns.] + +[Footnote 72: Oonk-to-mee--is a "bad spirit" in the form of a monstrous +black spider. He inhabits fens and marshes and lies in wait for his +prey. At night he often lights a torch (evidently the _ignis fatuus_ or +Jack-a-lantern) and swings it on the marshes to decoy the unwary into +his toils.] + +[Footnote 73: The Dakotas have their stone idol, or god, called +Toon-kan--or In-yan. This god dwells in stone or rocks and is they +say, the _oldest god of all_--he is grandfather of all living things. I +think, however that the stone is merely the symbol of the everlasting, +all pervading, invisible _Ta-ku Wa-kan_--the essence of all +life,--pervading all nature, animate and inanimate. The Rev. S. R. +Riggs who, for forty years, has been a student of Dakota customs, +superstitions etc., says, "Tahkoo Wahkan," p. 55: et seq. "The religious +faith of the Dakota is not in his gods as such. It is in an intangible, +mysterious something of which they are only the embodiment, and that in +such measure and degree as may accord with the individual fancy of the +worshipper. Each one will worship some of these divinities, and neglect +or despise others, but the great object of all their worship, whatever +its chosen medium, is the _Ta-koo Wa-kan_, which is the _supernatural_ +and _mysterious_. No one term can express the full meaning of the +Dakotas _Wakan_. It comprehends all mystery, secret power and divinity. +Awe and reverence are its due, and it is as unlimited in manifestation +as it is in idea. All life is _Wakan_; so also is everything which +exhibits power, whether in action as the winds and drifting clouds; +or in passive endurance, as the boulder by the wayside. For even the +commonest sticks and stones have a spiritual essence which must be +reverenced as a manifestation of the all-pervading mysterious power that +fills the the universe."] + +[Footnote 74: Wazi-kute--Wah-ze-koo-tay; literally--Pine-shooter--he +that shoots among the pines. When Father Hennepin was at Mille Lacs in +1679-80, Wazi-kute was the head Chief (Itancan) of the band of Isantees. +Hennepin writes his name-- Ouasicoude and translates it--the "Pierced +Pine." See Shea's Hennepin p. 234, Minn. Hist. Coll. vol. I. p. 316.] + +[Footnote 75: When a Dakota brave wishes to "propose" to a "dusky maid", +he visits her teepee at night after she has retired, or rather, laid +down in her robe to sleep. He lights a splinter of wood and holds it to +her face. If she blows out the light, he is accepted; if she covers her +head and leaves it burning, he is rejected. The rejection however is not +considered final till it has been thrice repeated. Even then the maiden +is often bought of her parents or guardian, and forced to become the +wife of the rejected suitor. If she accepts the proposal, still the +suitor must buy her of her parents with suitable gifts.] + +[Footnote 76: The Dakotas called the Falls of St. Anthony the Ha-Ha--the +_loud laughing_, or _roaring_. The Mississippi River they called +Ha-Ha Wa-kpa--River of the Falls. The Ojibway name for the Falls +is Ka-ka-bih-kung. Minnehaha is a combination of two Dakota +words--Mini--water and Ha-Ha--Falls; but it is not the name by which the +Dakotas designated that cataract. Some authorities say they called it +I-ha-ha pronounced E-rhah-rhah--lightly laughing. Rev. S. W. Pond, +whose long residence as a missionary among the Dakotas in this immediate +vicinity makes him an authority that can hardly be questioned, says +"they called the Falls of Minnehaha "Mini-i-hrpa-ya dan," and it had no +other name in Dakota. It means Little Falls and nothing else." Letter to +the author.] + +[Footnote 77: The game of the Plum-stones is one of the favorite games +of the Dakotas. Hennepin was the first to describe this game in his +"Description de la Louisiane," Paris, 1683, and he describes it very +accurately. See Shea's translation p. 301. The Dakotas call this game +_Kan-soo Koo tay-pe_--shooting plum-stones. Each stone is painted black +on one side and red on the other; on one side they grave certain figures +which make the stones "Wakan." They are placed in a dish and thrown up +like dice; indeed the game is virtually a game of dice. Hennepin says: +"There are some so given to this game that they will gamble away even +their great coat. Those who conduct the game cry at the top of their +voices when they rattle the platter and they strike their shoulders so +hard as to leave them all black with the blows."] + +[Footnote 78: Wa'tanka--contraction of Wa-kan Tanka--Great Spirit. The +Dakotas had no Wakan Tanka--or Wakan-peta--fire spirit--till whitemen +imported them. There being no name for the Supreme Being in the Dakota +tongue (except Ta-ku Wakan--See note 73)--and all their gods and +spirits being Wakan--the missionaries named God in Dakota--"_Wakan +Tanka_"--which means _Big Spirit_, or _The Big Mysterious_.] + +[Footnote 79: The Dakotas called Lake Calhoun--Mde-mdo-za--Loon Lake. +They also called it--_Re-ya-ta-mde_--the lake back from the river. +They called Lake Harriet--Mde-unma--the other lake--or (perhaps) Mde +uma--Hazel-nut Lake. The lake nearest Calhoun on the north--Lake of the +Isles--they called Wi-ta Mde--Island-Lake. Lake Minnetonka they called +Me-me-a-tan-ka--_Broad Water_.] + +[Footnote 80: The animal called by the French _voyageurs_ the _cabri_ +(the kid) is found only on the prairies. It is of the goat kind, smaller +than a deer, and so swift that neither horse nor dog can overtake +it. (Snelling's) "Tales of the Northwest," p. 286. note 15. It is the +gazelle, or prairie antelope, called by the Dakotas Tato-ka-dan--little +antelope. It is the _Pish-tah-te-koosh_ of the Algonkin tribes, +"reckoned the fleetest animal in the prairie country about the +Assinneboin." Captivity and Adventures of John Tanner, p. 301.] + +[Footnote 81: The Wicastapi Wakanpi (literally, _men supernatural_) are +the "Medicine-men" or Magicians of the Dakotas. They call themselves the +sons, or disciples of Unktehee. In their rites, ceremonies, tricks and +pretensions they closely resemble the Dactyli, Idae and Curetes of the +ancient Greeks and Romans, the Magi of the Persians, and the Druids of +Britain. Their pretended intercourse with spirits, their powers of magic +and divination, and their rites are substantially the same, and point +unmistakably to a common origin. The Dakota "Medicine-Man" can do the +"rope-trick" of the Hindoo magician to perfection. The teepee used for +the _Wakan Wacipee_--or Sacred Dance--is called the _Wakan Teepee_--the +Sacred Teepee. Carver's Cave at St. Paul was also called Wakan Teepee, +because the Medicine-men or magicians often held their dances and +feasts in it. For a full account of the rites, etc., see Riggs' "Tahkoo +Wahkan", Chapter VI. The _Ta-sha-ke_--literally, "Deer-hoofs"--is a +rattle made by hanging the hard segments of deer-hoofs to a wooden rod a +foot long--about an inch in diameter at the handle end, and tapering to +a point at the other. The clashing of these horny bits makes a sharp, +shrill sound something like distant sleigh-bells. In their incantations +over the sick they sometimes use the gourd-shell rattle.] + +The Chan-che-ga--is a drum or "Wooden Kettle." The hoop of the drum is +from a foot to eighteen inches in diameter, and from three to ten inches +deep. The skin covering is stretched over one end making a drum with one +end only. The magical drum sticks are ornamented with down, and heads of +birds or animals are carved on them. This makes them Wakan.] + +The flute called _Cho-tanka_ (big pith) is of two varieties--one made of +sumac, the pith of which is punched out, etc. The second variety is made +of the long bone of the wing or thigh of the swan or crane. They call +the first the _bubbling chotanka_ from the tremulous note it gives when +blown with all the holes stopped. Riggs' Tahkoo Wahkan, p. 476, et seq.] + +E-ne-pee--vapor bath is used as a purification preparatory to the sacred +feasts. The vapor bath is taken in this way: "A number of poles the size +of hoop-poles or less are taken, and their larger ends being set in +the ground in a circle, the flexible tops are bent over and tied in the +centre. This frame work is then covered with robes and blankets, a small +hole being left on one side for an entrance. Before the door a fire is +built, and round stones about the size of a man's head are heated in it. +When hot, they are rolled within, and the door being closed, steam is +made by pouring water on them. The devotee, stripped to the skin, sits +within this steam-tight dome, sweating profusely at every pore, until he +is nearly suffocated. Sometimes a number engage in it together and unite +their prayers and songs." "Tahkoo Wakan," p. 83. Father Hennepin was +subjected to the vapour-bath at Mille Lacs by Chief Aqui-pa-que-tin, two +hundred years ago. After describing the method Hennepin says: "When he +had made me sweat thus three times in a week, I felt as strong as ever." +Shea's Hennepin, p. 228. For a very full and accurate account of the +Medicine men of the Dakotas, and their rites etc., see Chap. II, Neill's +Hist. Minnesota.] + +[Footnote 82: The sacred _O-zu-ha_--or Medicine-sack must be made of +the skin of the otter, the coon, the weasel, the squirrel, the loon, +a certain kind of fish or the skins of serpents. It must contain four +kinds of medicine (or magic) representing birds, beasts, herbs and +trees, viz: The down of the female swan colored red, the roots of +certain grasses, bark from the roots of cedar trees, and hair of the +buffalo. "From this combination proceeds a Wakan influence so powerful +that no human being unassisted can resist it." Wonderful indeed must be +the magic power of these Dakota Druids to lead such a man aa the Rev. +S. R. Riggs to say of them: "By great shrewdness, untiring industry, +and more or less of _actual demoniacal possession_, they convince great +numbers of their fellows, and in the process are convinced _themselves_, +of their sacred character and office." Tahkoo Wakan, pp. 88-9: ] + +[Footnote 83: Gah-ma-na-tek-wahk--_the river of many falls_--is the +Ojibway name of the river commonly called Kaministiguia, near the mouth +of which is situate Fort William, on the site of DuLuth's old fort. The +view on Thunder-Bay is one of the grandest in America. Thunder-Cap, +with its sleeping stone-giant, looms up into the heavens. Here +_Ka-be-bon-ikka_--the Ojibway's god of storms, flaps his huge wings and +makes the Thunder. From this mountain he sends forth the rain, the snow, +the hail, the lightning and the tempest. A vast giant, turned to stone +by his magic, lies asleep at his feet. The island called by the Ojibways +the _Mak-i-nak_ (the turtle) from its tortoise-like shape, lifts +its huge form in the distance. Some "down-east" Yankee, called it +"Pie-Island," from its (to his hungry imagination) fancied resemblance +to a pumpkin pie, and the name, like all bad names, _sticks_. McKay's +Mountain on the main-land, a perpendicular rock more than a thousand +feet high, up-heaved by the throes of some vast volcano, and numerous +other bold and precipitous head lands, and rock-built islands, around +which roll the sapphire-blue waters of the fathomless bay, present some +of the most magnificent views to be found on either continent.] + +[Footnote 84: The Mission of the Holy Ghost--at La Pointe on the isle +Waug-a-ba-me--(winding view) in the beautiful bay of Cha-quam-egon--was +founded by the Jesuits about the year 1660, and Father Rene Menard was +the first priest at this point. After he was lost in the wilderness, +Father Glaude Allouez permanently established ihe mission in 1665. +The famous Father Marquette, who took Allouez's place, Sept. 13. 1669, +writing to his Superior, thus describes the Dakotas: "The Nadouessi are +the Iroquois of this country, beyond La Pointe, _but less faithless, and +never attack till attacked._ Their language is entirely different +from the Huron and Algonquin. They have many villages, but are widely +scattered. They have very extraordinary customs. They principally use +the calumet. They do not speak at great feasts, and when a stranger +arrives give him to eat of a wooden fork, as we would a child. All the +lake tribes make war on them, but with small success. They have false +oats, (wild rice) use little canoes, _and keep their word strictly_." +Neill's Hist. Minn., p. 111.] + +[Footnote 85: Michabo--the Good, Great Spirit of the Algonkins. In +Autumn, in the moon of the falling leaf, ere he composes himself to his +winter's sleep, he fills his great pipe and takes a god-like smoke. The +balmy clouds from his pipe float over the hills and woodland, filling +the air with the haze of "Indian Summer." Brinton's Myths of the New +World, p. 163.] + +[Footnote 86: Pronounced _Kah-thah-gah_--literally, _the place of waves +and foam_. This was the principal village of the Isantee band of Dakotas +two hundred years ago, and was located at the Falls of St. Anthony, +which the Dakotas called the _Ha-ha_--pronounced _Rhah-rhah_--the _loud, +laughing waters_. The Dakotas believed that the Falls were in the centre +of the earth. Here dwelt the Great Unktehee, the creator of the earth +and man; and from this place a path led to the Spirit-land. DuLuth +undoubtedly visited Kathaga in the year 1679. In his "Memoir" (Archives +of the Ministry of the Marine) addressed to Seignelay, 1685, he says: +"On the 2nd of July, 1679, I had the honor to plant his Majesty's arms +in the great village of the Nadouecioux called Izatys, where never had +a Frenchman been, etc." _Izatys_ is here used not as the name of the +village, but as the name of the band--the Isantees. _Nadouecioux_ was +a name given the Dakotas generally by the early French traders and the +Ojibways. See Shea's Hennepin's Description of Louisiana pp. 203: and +375. The villages of the Dakotas were not permanent towns. They were +hardly more than camping grounds, occupied at intervals and for longer +or shorter periods, as suited the convenience of the hunters: yet there +were certain places, like Mille Lacs, the Falls of St. Anthony, Kapoza +(near St. Paul), Remnica, (where the city of Red Wing now stands), +and Keuxa (or Keoza) on the site of the city of Winona, so frequently +occupied by several of the bands as to be considered their chief +villages respectively.] + + + + +FOOTNOTES TO THE SEA-GULL: + + +[Footnote 101: Kay-oshk is the Ojibway name of Sea-Gull.] + +[Footnote 102: Gitchee--great,--Gumee--sea or lake,--Lake Superior; +also often called Ochipwe Gitchee Gumee, Great Lake (or sea) of the +Ojibways.] + +[Footnote 103: Ne-me-Shomis--my grandfather. "In the days of my +Grandfather" is the Ojibway's preface to all his traditions and +legends.] + +[Footnote 104: Waub--white---O-jeeg,--fisher, (a furred animal.) White +Fisher was the name of a noted Chippewa Chief who lived on the south +shore of Lake Superior many years ago. Schoolcraft married one of his +descendants.] + +[Footnote 105: Ma-kwa or mush-kwa--the bear.] + +[Footnote 106: 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 107: Wabose--the rabbit. Penay, the pheasant. At certain +seasons the pheasant drums with his wings.] + +[Footnote 108: Kaug, the porcupine. Kenew. the war-eagle.] + +[Footnote 109: 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 1010: Kewaydin or Kewaytin, is the North-wind or North-west +wind.] + +[Footnote 1011: Algonkin is the general name applied to all tribes that +speak the Ojibway language or dialects of it.] + +[Footnote 1012: 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 +irresistable.] + +[Footnote 1013: Translation: + + Woe-is-me! Woe-is-me! + Great Spirit, behold me! + Look, Father; have pity upon me! + Woe-is-me! Woe-is-me!] + +[Footnote 1014: Snow-storms from the North-west.] + +[Footnote 1015: The Ojibways, like the Dakotas, call the _Via Lactea_ +(Milky Way) the Pathway of the Spirits.] + +[Footnote 1016: Shingebis, the diver, is the only water-fowl that +remains about Lake Superior all winter. See Schoolcraft's Hiawatha +Legends, p. 113.] + +[Footnote 1017: Waub-ese--the white swan.] + +[Footnote 1018: Pe-boan, Winter, is represented as an old man with long +white hair and beard.] + +[Footnote 1019: Se-gun is Spring or Summer. This beautiful allegory has +been "done into verse" by Longfellow in _Hiawatha_. I took my version +from the lips of an old Chippewa Chief. I have compared it with +Schoolcraft's version, from which Mr. Longfellow evidently took his.] + +[Footnote 1020: Nah--look, see. Nashke--behold.] + +[Footnote 1021: Kee-zis--the sun,--the father of life. Waubunong--or +Waub-o-nong--is the White Land or Land of Light,--the Sun-rise, the +East.] + +[Footnote 1022: The Bridge of Stars spans the vast sea of the skies, and +the sun and moon walk over on it.] + +[Footnote 1023: The Miscodeed is a small white flower with a pink +border. It is the earliestblooming wild-flower on the shores of Lake +Superior, and belongs to the crocus family.] + +[Footnote 1024: The Ne-be-naw-baigs, are Water-spirits; they dwell in +caverns in the depths of the lake, and in some respects resemble the +Unktehees of the Dakotas.] + +[Footnote 1025: Ogema, Chief,--Ogema-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 1026: 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 superstition of all nations.] + +[Footnote 1027: The Jossakeeds of the Ojibways are sooth-sayers who are +able, by the aid of spirits, to read the past as well as the future.] + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Legends of the Northwest, by Hanford Lennox Gordon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LEGENDS OF THE NORTHWEST *** + +***** This file should be named 8122.txt or 8122.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/2/8122/ + +Produced by Susan Skinner, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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