Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 3)

J >> James Athearn Jones >> Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 2 (of 3)

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So saying, the Maiden in Green re-commenced her song, the while making
a circuit around the prisoner at a small distance from him. When she
had finished the circuit, she changed her song to one which seemed a
song of reproach and threatening. Whatever was the subject, it had the
effect of rekindling the Bright Old Inhabitants to their former state
of wrath. Their eyes were relit with the glittering beams, and the
hissing and the rattling re-commenced. Seemingly determined to take
instant vengeance upon the intruder, they were now seen making such
haste as their natural tardiness admitted of, towards the Muscogulgee.
From every part of the valley heads could be seen displaying forked
tongues, and all pressing towards the alarmed warrior. But he stood
invulnerable to them, though he knew it not, within the charmed circle
made by his protecting spirit. Their powers of fascination had been
taken away by the Maiden in Green, or rather the counter-fascination,
which kept him within the charmed space, was more powerful than the
influence of their eyes.

Calling to one of the largest of the Kind Old Kings to come near, the
Maiden in Green spoke to him thus:--"This youth is a brave youth, and
he is a Muscogulgee. He loves the beautiful daughter of the _powwow_
Chepiasquit, and has asked her of her father to wife. The father has
imposed on him the task to visit your valley, and make report whether
your eyes are dazzling meteors, or precious stones. And he has bidden
him bring a tooth from the jaw of a living King, and a rattle from his
tail, and an eye from his skull, the which, being faithfully and fully
accomplished, entitles him to claim, as a pledged boon, the hand of
the lovely Winona. What say you, chief of the kings, shall he return
and be made happy?"

The chief of the kings answered that he knew of no one who would
willingly spare an eye, or a tooth, or a rattle. For himself, he had
found them all of use, and could spare neither eye, tooth, nor rattle.
And he bade the Spirit remember, that though queen of both valley and
mountain, her sway extended but to protect, and not to injure. She had
no right to demand from the Kind Old Kings a thing which should
inflict pain or death upon them. And did she not know that, whenever
one of those eyes of light should be carried beyond the limits of the
valley, the transcendent power and brightness which their owners now
possessed should be enjoyed by them no more. Such was the will of the
Great Being; strange that the Maiden in Green should be ignorant of it.

The Spirit answered that she knew not this, yet she was prepared to
say that the decree should be revoked, if they would, without any
further molestation, impart to the Muscogulgee the required
information, and bestow upon him the gift which would make him happy
and prosperous in his suit to the Cherokee maiden. Should they favour
his request, brilliancy should be added to, rather than taken from,
their eyes, and their rattles should grow in size, and increase in
number and speed of motion. But, if they refused to grant him the
boon, the eye, and the tooth, and the rattle, should be taken from
them by force, whereby they would lose the benefit of having done
something to be thanked for.

Upon hearing this, the chief of the Wise Old Kings called a council of
his nation. I know not what was said in this council, but I can tell
my brother what was done. They drew lots among them, and he upon whom
the lot fell submitted to lose an eye, and a tooth, and a rattle.
Having given these to the Muscogulgee, the eldest of the Kings
instructed him in their history, their laws, and their policy,
replying particularly to the questions suggested by the Cherokee
_powwow_.

"We were created," said he, "after all the other beings were created,
and were formed from the variegated sand which is found on the shores
of the distant Lake of the Woods. It was in a pleasant and sunny
morning in the Buck-Moon, that the Great Spirit, having nothing else
to do, amused himself, as he sat in the warm sun on the bank of this
lake, with twisting ropes of those particoloured sands. Having
twisted, in mere sport, a considerable number, and laid them aside, it
came to his mind that amidst all the variety of creatures he had
formed, whose means of locomotion were walking, flying, swimming,
hopping, trotting, running, there were none ordained to move
altogether by crawling. 'Now,' said he to himself, 'if I were breathe
into these ropes the breath of life, and to invest them with the power
to run about, would it not be a sight worth seeing?--would it not
create a deal of sport among the other animals? But I will make them
more wonderful yet.'

"So saying, he selected a number of small round stones, of which he
thrust several into one end of the ropes. Before him, upon the shore,
were scattered many stones of different hues, but all of surpassing
brilliancy, and each outshining the beams of the meridian sun. He
placed one of these shining gems in the other end of each rope, and
then blew upon them until they exhibited signs of life. When the ropes
began to move, their strange and zigzag motions, and the rattling of
their tails, excited the mirth of the Great Being, who laughed loud
and long at the oddity he had formed. That portion of them to which he
had given rattles and the shining eye were appointed rulers over all
the other and inferior species of snakes. And he bade them remember
that he had formed them to crawl in the dust all the days of their
lives, and on no account to attempt an upright posture. 'But,' said
he, as he concluded the word which bade them be ever of the dust,
'this is no place for your tribes. Ye are a thin-skinned, or rather a
skinless race, and should have a habitation and a name only where
fervid suns beam, and the frosts and snows of winter are little known.
Ye could never reach that land if left to your own exertions--I must
assist you.' So saying, he gathered all the new-born reptiles into his
hand, and, hiding them in the folds of his robe, took his departure
towards the warm regions of the South. A few hours sufficed to bring
him to the valley which we now occupy, and here he committed us, and
all the tribes over which we are appointed rulers, to the fostering
care of the bright and glorious star of day. Having created us, and
breathed into us the breath of life, he bade us, as he had done all
the other creatures, each, for the future, to provide for his own
wants. We who carried the rattles were to live for ever; all the
others were to die at an appointed time. We were commanded never to
leave the valley, and, as a compensation for being restricted in our
walks, we were to exercise for ever dominion over all the other
species of snakes. And, as a protection from those who might wage a
war of invasion against us, our eyes were gifted with the power to
fascinate, and attract to us, every living creature that came within
the scope of their vision, save those who were specially favoured by
the Spirit of the Mountain. And thus it is. We, the Kind Old Kings,
are the identical ropes of sand which were twisted in the beginning of
the world by the Maker of all; those of small stature, which ye see
around us, are our children, and the children of our children. _They_
die, but to us who carry the dazzling eyes, death is not appointed.
Yet we increase in stature, and shall continue increasing in stature,
till the Great Tortoise upon which the earth reposes shall sink into
the endless abyss of waters, carrying with him that earth and all its
numerous creatures.

"You may thank the Spirit of the Mountain, Muscogulgee, for your life.
It was forfeited, and would have been taken, but for the intervention
of the Maiden in Green. You may now return--the bearer of what never
before left the valley of the Bright Old Inhabitants--an eye, and a
tooth, and a rattle--wisdom gathered from my words, and instruction
from my lips. They shall not avail him for whom they are intended,
since their possession would convey to him a power which the Great
Spirit would not--could not, without danger to himself--permit a
mortal to exercise. I hand you a tooth: already does the great
_powwow_ of the Cherokees feel, with the increase of the strength of
his mind, the decrease of the strength of his body: here is the
rattle, his strength is ebbing away; the eye, I behold him helpless on
the bed of death. His face is bright with the wisdom and knowledge
imparted by the gifts he hath obtained from us, but, alas! his tongue
is nerveless, he may not communicate the knowledge he hath gained.
Hasten back in peace, Muscogulgee, deliver to him the gifts which seal
his fate and thine--his, to die ere the moon be two days older--thine,
to gain the maiden thou so ardently longest for, and with her to
descend the stream of time, loving and beloved--the happiest of the
happy. But, remember, let none of thy race or name presume again to
visit this valley, lest the most dreadful fate be theirs."

So spoke the eldest of the Wise Old Kings, and his words were
repeated by all his brothers. They permitted the Muscogulgee to depart
in peace, and he returned to the village of the Cherokee priest. He
delivered the gifts as he had been directed, and witnessed the end he
had been taught to expect. He saw the countenance of the _powwow_
lighted up with intelligence more than mortal, but, at the delivery of
each gift, he beheld a third part of the vigour of animal life fade
away, as the eye, the bright, the unfading, but fatal eye, was placed
in his trembling hand, he saw the spark of life quivering like a lamp
in the socket. The priest had just time to beckon to him his lovely
daughter, when, placing her hand in that of the Muscogulgee youth, he
expired.

Brother, I am a Muscogulgee, and my mother was the beautiful daughter
of the Cherokee priest, and my father the brave youth who adventured
into the valley of the Bright Old Inhabitants. I have done.

NOTE.

(1) _Valley of the Bright Old Inhabitants._--p. 225.

Several of the Indian nations believe themselves descended from
rattlesnakes, and all, more or less, profess relationship with that
reptile. A Seneca chief told me that his maternal ancestor was a
maiden rattlesnake, but he destroyed the sublimity of the fiction by
asserting that on their nuptial night she bit off her husband's nose.

Heckewelder, after remarking that some of the Tuscaroras claim
affinity with the rabbit and the ground hog, says: "I found also that
the Indians, for a similar reason, paid great respect to the
rattlesnake, whom they called their _grandfather_, and would on no
account destroy him. One day, as I was walking with an elderly Indian
on the banks of the Muskingum, I saw a large rattlesnake lying across
the path, which I was going to kill. The Indian immediately forbade my
doing so, 'for,' said he, 'the rattlesnake is grandfather to the
Indians, and is placed here on purpose to guard us, and to give us
warning of impending danger by his rattles, which is the same as if he
were to tell us 'Look about!' 'Now, added he,' if we were to kill one
of those, the others would soon know it, and the whole race would
rise upon us, and bite us.' I observed to him that the white people
were not afraid of this, for they killed all the rattlesnakes they met
with. On this he enquired whether any white man had been bitten by
those animals, and of course I answered in the affirmative. 'No
wonder, then,' he replied, 'you have to blame yourselves for that.
Take care you do not irritate them in our country, they and their
grandchildren are on good terms, and neither will hurt the other.'"

Adair, after killing one which infested the camp of the Seminoles,
found himself in serious danger, whereupon he remarks in a note page
263, that the Seminoles "never kill the rattlesnake."

THE LEGEND OF MOSHUP.

The sound or strait, which divides Nope[A] from the main land and the
islands of Nashawn, was not, in the days of our fathers, so wide as it
is now. The small bays which now indent the northern shore of Nope,
and the slight promontories, which, at intervals of a mile or two, jut
out along its coast of a sun's journey, were then wanting; neither the
one nor the other obtruded on its round and exact outline. The strong
current of waters from the boundless bosom of the Great Lake, sweeping
down between this island and the opposite little islands of Nashawn
and its sisters, has made great encroachments upon the former,
widening to a journey of two hours what was once only the work of one
to perform. My brothers, who are with me from the lands of the
Pawkunnawkuts, know that my words are true. They know that the air has
also changed as much as the shape of the shores of Nope. In the times
of our grandfathers, the waves which roll between these islands were
always frozen over, from the hunting month to the month of the red
singing bird. During the cold months, the canoe of the Indian hunter
and fisherman was not permitted to traverse its dark and angry waters
in quest of finny spoil, or in chase of the wild fowl. Then, to
procure his food he took down his spear, and wandered far out on the
frozen water to catch the foolish duck, which had suffered itself to
be imbedded in the congealed clement; or, nearer to his cabin, he cut
holes in the ice, and, as the stupid and benumbed fish glided across
the opening, applied his unerring dart, and threw him to his delighted
woman.

[Footnote A: Martha's Vineyard, a little island upon the coast of New
England.]

But the face of Nope changed, and with it the winters grew milder and
milder. The hunting month was no longer the month of early snow, and
when the red singing bird came, he hopped on an opening bud, and
listened to the croaking of frogs. The alarm of the great sentinel[A]
was heard no longer in the hour of darkness in the depth of the woods.
There was too much sun for the hardy old warrior, and he followed his
great chief, the brown eagle, to the regions of the north. Meantime
the waters, no longer bound up with a chain by the Manitou of Cold,
scooped out bays and heaped up headlands, till they made the shores
of Nope crooked as the path of a bewildered white man, or the thread
of a story which has no truth.

[Footnote A: The owl. See the tradition, vol. 1. p. 61.]

Once upon a time, in the month of bleak winds, a Pawkunnawkut Indian,
who lived upon the main land, near the brook which was ploughed out by
the great trout[A], was caught with his dog upon one of the pieces of
floating ice, and carried in spite of his endeavours to Nope.
Hitherto, it had remained unknown, and, as our people supposed,
unapproachable. Several times they had attempted to visit it, but
their canoes had always been swept away, or pushed back by some
invisible hand, some friendly Manitou of the water, who feared danger
to them, or some angry spirit of the island, who, by these signs,
forbade their approach to his dominions. For many years, and ever
since the memory of our fathers, the Indians, supposing it the
residence of Hobbamock, the being who rules over evil men, sends
disease and death to the Indians, breeds storms in the air, and utters
the fearful sound in the black clouds, had carefully abstained from
attempting to visit it. Nor was it altogether a mere uncertain dread
of evil, which had operated on their minds to people it with living
and moving beings. They could see at times men of monstrous stature
moving rapidly over the island, and at all seasons in the calm
evening, or when the winds blew from it, could hear sounds of anger or
wailing, or of music and merriment, proceeding from its gloomy shades.
And some pretended to have seen distinctly the form of a tall man
wading into the water to grasp whales. The forced visit to its shores
of Tackanash, the Pawkunnawkut, made them see it was not the dream of
a sleeper who has eaten too much meat, but like that which men see
with their eyes when they are awake, and would talk only what the Good
Spirit may hear.

[Footnote A: A brook in Barnstable County, respecting which this
tradition is current among the Indians.]

When Tackanash and his dog arrived at Nope, he found the man whose
existence had been doubted by many of the Indians, and believed to
have been only seen by deceived eyes, heard by foolish ears, and
talked of by lying tongues, living in a deep cave near the end of the
island, nearest the setting sun. And this was the account which
Tackanash on his return gave the chiefs of the strange creature. He
was taller than the tallest tree upon Nope, and as large around him as
the spread of the tops of a vigorous pine, that has seen the years of
a full grown warrior. His skin was very black; but his beard, which he
had never plucked nor clipped, and the hair of his head, which had
never been shaved, were of the colour of the feathers of the grey
gull. His eyes were very white, and his teeth, which were only two in
number, were green as the ooze raked up by the winds from the bottom
of the sea. He was always good-natured and cheerful, save when he
could not get plenty of meat, or when he missed his usual supply of
the Indian weed, and the strong drink which made him see whales
chasing deer in the woods, and frogs digging _quawhogs_. His principal
food was the meat of whales, which he caught by wading after them into
the great sea, and tossing them out, as the Indian boys do black bugs
from a puddle. He would, however, eat porpoises, when no larger fish
were to be had, and even tortoises, and deer, and rabbits, rather than
be hungry. The bones of the whales, and the coals of the fire in which
he roasted them, are to be seen now at the place where he lived. I
have not yet told my brothers the name of this big man of Nope--it
was Moshup.

I hear the stranger ask, "Who was he?" I hear my brothers ask, "Was he
a spirit from the shades of departed men, or did he come from the
hills of the thunder? I answer, he was a Spirit, but whence he came,
when first he landed in our Indian country, I know not. It was a long
time ago, and the Island[A] was then very young, being just placed on
the back of the Great Tortoise which now supports it. As it was very
heavy the tortoise tried to roll it off, but the Great Spirit would
not let him, and whipped him till he lay still. Moshup told the
Pawkunnawkut that he once lived upon the main land. He said that much
people grew up around him, men who lived by hunting and fishing, while
their women planted the corn, and beans, and pumpkins. They had
_powwows_, he said, who dressed themselves in a strange dress,
muttered diabolical words, and frightened the Indians till they gave
them half their wampum. Our fathers knew by this, that they were their
ancestors, who were always led by the priests--the more fools they!
Once upon a time, Moshup said, a great bird whose wings were the
flight of an arrow wide, whose body was the length of ten Indian
strides, and whose head when he stretched up his neck peered over the
tall oak-woods, came to Moshup's neighbourhood. At first, he only
carried away deer and mooses; at last, many children were missing.
This continued for many moons. Nobody could catch him, nobody could
kill him. The Indians feared him, and dared not go near him; he in his
turn feared Moshup, and would seek the region of the clouds the moment
he saw him coming. When he caught children, he would immediately fly
to the island which lay towards the hot winds. Moshup, angry that he
could not catch him, and fearing that, if the creature hatched others
of equal appetite and ferocity, the race of Indians would become
extinct, one day waded into the water after him, and continued in
pursuit till he had crossed to the island which sent the hot winds,
and which is now called Nope. There, under a great tree, he found the
bones of all the children which the great bird had carried away. A
little further he found its nest, with seven hatched birds in it,
which, together with the mother, he succeeded after a hard battle in
killing. Extremely fatigued, he lay down to sleep, and dreamed that he
must not quit the island again. When he waked, he wished much to
smoke, but, on searching the island for tobacco, and finding none, he
filled his pipe with _poke_, which our people sometimes use in the
place of tobacco. Seated upon the high hills of Wabsquoy, he puffed
the smoke from his pipe over the surface of the Great Lake, which soon
grew dim and misty. This was the beginning of fog, which since, for
the long space between the Frog-month and the Hunting-month, has at
times obscured Nope and all the shores of the Indian people. This was
the story which Moshup told Tackanash and his dog. If it is not true,
I am not the liar."

[Footnote A: The Indians, as I have before remarked, believe the world
to be an island, and always speak of it as such.]

Moshup, at the time when Nope was visited by Tackanash, had a wife of
equal size with himself, and four sons, and a daughter, the former
tall, strong, and swift, very expert at catching fish, and nimble in
pursuit of deer, the latter beautiful, sweet-voiced, and bounding as
the fawn. She would sit in the first of the evening, when the dew
began to fall, and the shadows of men lengthened, and sing to her
father songs of the land of the shades of evil men, songs which told
of the crimes they had committed, and their repentance, and guilt, and
compunction, and shame, and death. Though Moshup appeared to care
little for any body, he nevertheless loved his little daughter, as he
called her, whose head peered over the tallest trees, and whose voice
was heard upon the main land. He shewed by many signs how much he
loved his daughter. He strung up the teeth of the shark as a necklace
for her, gathered the finest shells for her anklets, and always gave
her the fattest slice of whale's meat to her portion.

The story of Tackanash, who very soon returned to Waquoit, and his
description of the beauties of Nope, carried many of the Pawkunnawkuts
thither to live. It was indeed a pleasant place, pleasant to the
Indian, for it abounded with all the things he covets. Its ponds were
many, and stocked with fine fish and fat wild ducks; its woods were
filled with deer, and the fertile banks of its streams overrun with
wild vines, on which the grape thickly clustered, and where the walnut
and the hazel-nut profusely loaded both bush and tree. Soon, the
Pawkunnawkuts, at peace among themselves, and blessed by the Good
Spirit with every thing they needed, became very numerous. There was
not a pleasant spot on the island, from which did not arise the smoke
of a cabin fire; nor a quiet lake, in which, in the months of flowers
and fruits, you would not see Indian maidens laving their dusky limbs.
The wild duck found no rest in his sunny slumber on the banks of
Menemshe, the _pokeshawit_ could no longer hide in the sedge, on the
banks of his favourite Quampeche, and the deer, that went to quench
his thirst in the Monnemoy, found the unerring arrow of the Indian in
his heart.

But to Moshup the increase of the Indians seemed to give pain--none
knew why, since the only enjoyments he appeared to covet were still as
numerous as before. Whales were still plenty, _poke_ was still plenty,
and sleep and sunshine as easily enjoyed as ever. Though he never
harmed the Indians, he grew discontented and unhappy, cross and
peevish in his family, and sour and unneighbourly to all around him.
He would beat his wife, if she did but so much as eat a falling scrap
of the whale; toss his sons out of the cave, if, in the indulgence of
boyish glee, they made the least noise while he was taking his nap;
and box the ears of his little daughter, if she did but so much as
look at an Indian youth.

Once upon a time, he bade his children go and play ball upon the beach
that joins the hill[A] of White Paint to Nomensland, telling them that
he would look on and see the sport. When they had played awhile, he
made a mark with his great toe across the beach at each end, and so
deep that the water followed the mark, leaving them surrounded with
it, and in great danger of being drowned. When the tide at length
began to flow across the beach, covering with water the whole space
between the two high lands, the brothers took their little sister, and
held her up out of the water, while Moshup, seated on the high cliffs,
looked on. He told them to act as if they were going to kill whales,
which they did, and were all turned into the fish called _killers_, a
fish which has ever since been an enemy to whales, and is its greatest
terror; As the sister was always a gay girl, painting her cheeks of
many hues, and loving many-coloured ornaments, he commanded her to
become, and she became, the striped killer. He bade her brothers be
always very kind to her, and they have obeyed him.

[Footnote A: Gayhead, which has a chalk cliff.]

When Moshup's wife learned the transformation of her children, she
grieved very much for their loss. Night and day she did nothing hut
weep and call for them, till, at length, Moshup grew tired of her
noise, and, catching her up in his arms in a paroxysm of passion, he
threw her as far as he could towards the country of the Narragansetts.
She fell upon the point which juts far into the ocean, and over whose
rocks the evil Manitou of the deep throws the great waves. The Indians
call it Seconet. There, seated upon the rocks, she began to make all
who came that way contribute to her support. She grew to be so cross
and cruel, exacting so much from Indians, and making so much noise,
that the Great Spirit changed her into a huge rock; the entire shape
of which remained many years. But, when the Yengees came, some of them
broke off her arms, fearing she would use them to their injury, and
her head, lest she should plot mischief; but her body stands there now.

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