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

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

"Take thou the mountain, and name what else thou wilt have."

"Only a few more rivers and a few more vales, which thou canst easily
spare, and another mountain for a further refuge, and some more lakes
to breed more wild-fowl in, and a forest or two well stocked with
deer, and a part of the Great Lake to put my whales in--nothing more,
except it be another vale, and another mountain, and another river,
and a piece more of the sea."

The dark Genius of the land smiled at the _narrow_ wishes of her
younger sister, and replied, that she could spare them all. So the
younger sister appropriated to herself the highest mountains, and the
most pleasant vales, and the broadest lakes, and the most rapid
rivers, and a large piece of the sea to put whales in, and some
forests well stocked with deer, and said, "she had taken so little it
was scarcely worth thanking for."

Then the dreamer saw in his sleep that, at her bidding, the strange
beasts which came in the cloud issued forth to take possession. How
their eyes gloated upon the fair gifts which had been made them by
the kind spirit of the land! And how grateful they appeared to be, and
how exceedingly kind and affectionate they were to the poor Indians!
They stroked their heads gently with one hand, while with the other
they released them from their oppressive burdens--their beaver skins
and their maize--indeed they were too kind. Then to gratify them still
further, they produced a burning water[A], which they distributed
among them, assuring them of its power to create pleasing images in
the mind, and to make bright visions dance before the eyes of those
who drank it. The Indians drank as they were bidden, and realised the
predicted effects. What a wonderful medicine was the strong water!
Under its potent influence, the mirror of the soul became enlarged,
and a thousand images, till then unseen, floated before the mental
eye. Then might a man receive certain intimations of the object he
should choose as his protecting spirit, and astonish his brothers by a
medicine of strange proportions and great power. And secrets of the
land of souls--the way to pass the "narrow bridge over the fearful
river," and how to stay the anger of the dog that guards it at the
point where the Huron passes--how to tread the sharp and steep rock
upon which the Chippewa finds entrance to his land of rest--all this,
and much more, to be attained by no other means, was learned from the
strong waters given to the Abnakis by the strange spirit. And
Wangewaha, the dreamer, woke from his sleep, rubbed his eyes, and
indulged in deep thought of what the dream might portend.

[Footnote A: Burning water, ardent spirits, commonly called by them
the "fire-eater."]

Again he sunk to sleep, and again he dreamed. Still his dream was of
strange creatures, aliens to his land, and usurpers of the rights of
its native sons. But they had multiplied till their numbers were as
the sands upon the sea shore. He stood in imagination upon a lofty
hill, and cast his eyes upon the broad lands beneath him. How changed!
The forests had been swept away, the land was cleared of its mossy old
oaks, and lofty pines, and cedars, but, where they once raised their
leafy heads to the winds of heaven, now rose cabins, white as the
folds of a cloud, and glittering in the sun like a sheet of ice in a
winter's day. The broad and rapid river, as well as the waters of the
Great Lake, was marked in streaks of white foam by the many clouds
traversing it, like that he had seen in his first dream. The lofty
mountains were seamed like the breast of a tattooed warrior(2), by the
roads which the strangers had made over it. The vales waved with the
yellow wheat, and, herds of tame bisons lay resting on the grassy
knolls, or stood grouped at the outlets of the fields, which the
industrious strangers had girded in with fences of rock.

And what had become of the former inhabitants of the soil? where were
the dusky men who met the strange creatures upon the shore, and bade
them welcome, and gave them the fat things of the sea and the land for
their subsistence, and warm furs to protect them from the searching
winds of the Snow-Moon, and taught them how to follow the trail of
forest animals, and to thread, unerringly, their way for many
successive nights through the lonely wilderness, by the flow of
streams and the course of fishes, and the light of the Hunter's Star,
and the moss upon the oaks, and the flight of birds? Listen, and I
will tell you.

He sees upon the edge of a stream, overgrown with a thick grove of
alders and luxuriant vines, an Indian man and woman. The woman held in
her arms a dying child--at the feet of the man, lay a lean and
famished dog. Deep thought was in the eye of the one, and absorbing
grief in that of the other. Now the hunter cast his eyes into the
depths of the river in anxious search for the signs of the approach of
the finny people; now he laid his ear to the earth after the manner of
his race, when they would detect the sound of footsteps.

"Didst thou see aught in the current, which thine eye is searching?"
asked the wife tremulously, fixing her bright black eye, moistened
with a tear, upon her hungry infant.

"I saw nothing in the current," answered the hunter. "The net of the
stranger hath swept from the flood that which was in part the food of
our tribes, when he first became acquainted with these shores. The
barbed spear no more brings up the sleeping conger; the Indian throws
his hook into the once populous stream, but it returns with the bait
untouched."

"Did thy quick ear catch the sound of aught in the mazes of the wood?"
asked the fond mother, and her tears fell thick on the cheeks of her
little babe.

"My ear caught no sound in the mazes of the wood," answered the
hunter. "How should it? The stranger hath left nothing save the mouse,
and the mole, and few of them. He has swept away the beloved retreats
of the bounding beauty of the forest, the nimble deer, and none are
left in the glades, where once they were thicker than the stars. The
bear, and the wolf, and the panther, love not their crafty brother,
and have gone yet deeper into the forest. The wild duck feeds now in
the deep waters only, the mother teaches her brood that death lurks
behind the wood-skirted shore."

"Then must this little child--thine and mine--our first-born, die of
hunger. Yet bethink thee. I see among yonder lofty trees a cabin, the
whiteness of which tells us that one of the despoilers of our joys
hath there taken up his abode."

"Wouldst thou have the son of Alknomook--the son of the rightful
lord--himself the rightful lord of these wide regions--beg bread from
the stranger?"

"Not to save thy life or mine would I ask it, but what would I not do
to save the life of this beautiful babe, which the Great Spirit
granted to my prayers, when for sixty moons I had lived in thy cabin a
disgraced woman(3)."

"Not therefore should the soul of an Indian warrior bend to a master.
I cannot beg."

"What was the dream which thou hadst in the last Worm-Moon?"

"Thou sayest well--it was of vengeance had by means of the boy. The
son of Alknomook will humble his pride--he will wipe off the war
paint, which he laid as deep on his face as the memory of his wrongs
weigh on his heart, and he will supplicate the stranger to give him
food for his little one."

Still the sleeping chief continued to take note of the things which
occurred. He beheld the enfeebled and emaciated Indians at the
dwelling of the proud stranger. The stranger sat at the door of his
lofty cabin, and thus he addressed the friendless outcasts:

"Why have you dared to trespass on my soil, to bruise my pretty
flowers with your rude feet, and to frighten my flocks and herds with
your shrill halloos?"

The son of the forest was about to reply fiercely, when his ear caught
the plaintive moan of his famished child, and he controlled the
tempest of wrath which was rising in his bosom.

"Thine eyes are the eyes of an owl by daylight," replied he calmly.
"They have seen a thing which has not happened. The son of Alknomook
did not bruise the flowers of the pale face, nor frighten his flocks
and herds by his shrill halloos. Wilt thou give me a morsel of food
for my famished child?"

"Begone, thou Indian dog!" said the proud and cruel man. "Thou shalt
have no food here."

"But my child will die of hunger."

"If thy child die of hunger, there will be a red skin less. Back to
thy woods, and herd with wolves and panthers, thy fit associates."

The soul of the stern but generous warrior filled with ire and the
spirit of vengeance, as he poured out his feelings in the emphatic
language of his people. "Not so spoke the Abnakis to the weary,
naked, and hungry, men who came to their shores, and besought them to
grant them shelter," said he. "We gave them the food from our own
mouths, and took the skins which fenced our wigwams to protect them
from the winds of the cold moon." Nor did he cease speaking till he
had denounced upon the pale faces the wrath of the Great Spirit for
the injuries they had inflicted upon the Indians.

Ah, what is that which draws tears to the eyes of the dreamer, and
brings sighs to his labouring heart? He beholds an Indian mother lying
dead in the skirts of the forest. Upon her arm is laid a little child,
and beside them, leaning on a bow, is the husband of the one and the
father of the other. Sorrow has bowed him down, as far as the soul of
an Indian may be bowed--there are no tears in his eyes, yet distress
is written on the features of his face, in letters of enduring agony.
For a while he surveys the scene of death in stern silence, but soon
the memory of his wrongs weighs upon his soul and rouses him to
action. He springs upon his feet, and his shrill war-whoop rings
through the forest, like the echo of the tap of the woodpecker on the
hollow beech. His eye flashes fire as he grasps his war spear, and his
laugh, when he examines his good ash bow, is like the cry of a hungry
panther. Is not vengeance his? Look at yonder flames! He hath kindled
them. Listen to that wail of many over the slaughtered corpses of
their friends, who lay down to rest at the beginning of darkness, and
woke ere the sun came over the hills in the shades of the valley of
death. Bitterly, deeply, deadly, has the son of Alknomook revenged his
own, and the wrongs of his race.

Again the dreamer saw, and still his dream was of the land where he
dwelt. He saw the two sister Genii sitting in the same spot where he
had at first beheld them. She who was of the far clime still retained
the beauty and grace which were her's when her little foot first
touched the greensward of the hitherto, by her, untrodden island.
Still around her head was bound the grape-vine laden with rich, ripe,
clusters, amongst which were intermingled locks of hair, of a hue
resembling the yellow leaf. Still were her round and plump arms bound
with the shining bracelets, and her long and slender fingers adorned
with the glittering rings. The sheaf of nodding grain was still an
emblem of her power, and the shell and sceptre another. But she wore
no more the suppliant air which at first distinguished her. Pride and
haughtiness, and command and oppression, were now written on her face,
and ruled her gestures.

By her side stood the other Genius, the spirit of the land, her elder
sister--but oh, how changed! Her once glossy black locks now hung
uncombed upon a shoulder once beautifully rounded, but rounded no
longer; her mocassins were torn and soiled; and missing from her
wrists and ancles the gay ornaments of bead and shell-work which
adorned them in the day of her prosperity and pride. The feathers of
the canieu or war-eagle, and the painted vulture, towered above her
head no more, and gone from her shoulder was the emblem of the race
over which she had borne rule, the bow and the arrow.

Anon these two sisters entered into speech with each other. She who
was of the land, from the moment that the Bird of Ages planted it in
the bosom of the waters, said to the other,

"Thou hast a most beautiful land."

"It is indeed a most beautiful land," answered the other, casting her
eye proudly over the space beneath her feet.

"It has lofty mountains."

"Its mountains are very lofty."

"It has many rapid and beautiful rivers."

"It has."

"Its suns--"

"Are bright as the eyes of a dove in the moon of buds."

"Its winds--"

"Soft and balm-scented as the breath of a young maiden."

"I should like to live in thy cabin, to range uncontrolled through thy
green glades, and to listen in dreaming repose to the music of thy
merry waterfalls."

"Ah, no doubt thou wouldst, but dost thou think I would permit thee?"
replied she, who was once a stranger in the land, but was a stranger
no longer.

"Knowest thou not that we are sisters?" asked the dark Genius timidly.

"Nay, I knew it not," replied the other.

"We are, and so thou didst say when thou camest in the white cloud,
and I gave thee hills, and mountains, and rivers, and lakes, and
glades, and a part of the sea."

"The more fool thou, for admitting one to wrest from thee thy fair
possessions."

"I deemed thee in want, and then wert thou not my sister?"

"If thou wert I have forgotten it," replied the other haughtily. "If
thou didst me favours, thine impertinence in remembering them hath
more than cancelled the obligation. Depart from me, and let me behold
thy face no more."

The dark Genius withdrew at the bidding of her haughty sister, and the
chief of the Abnakis awoke, and related his dream to his tribe. Hath
it not come to pass? Look abroad on the land, and make answer. The
race of the red man hath disappeared from the earth, as the snows
disappear before the beams of a spring sun, or the hues of purple and
gold on the western sky, at the approach of darkness. It is only in
the regions of the Hunter's Star, where the pale face dare not
venture, that the red man may now be found.

NOTES.

(1) _Foretell the coming of tempests and storms._--p. 308.

The Indian jugglers--I am not now speaking of those who pretend to
cure disease--are sometimes successful in their legerdemain, to a
degree, which almost makes a convert of the sceptic. The following
story is related by the interesting Carver.

"One day, whilst we were all expressing our wishes for this desirable
event, (the arrival of the traders with provisions) and looking from
an eminence in hopes of seeing them come over the lake, the chief
priest, belonging to the band of the Killistinoes, told us, that he
would endeavour to obtain a conference with the Great Spirit, and know
from him when the traders would arrive. I paid little attention to
this declaration, supposing that it would be productive of some
juggling trick, just sufficiently covered to deceive the ignorant
Indians. But the king of that tribe telling me that this was chiefly
undertaken by the priests, to alleviate my anxiety, and, at the same
time, to convince me how much interest he had with the Great Spirit, I
thought it necessary to restrain my animadversions on his design.

"The following evening was fixed upon for this spiritual conference.
When every thing had been properly prepared, the king came to me and
led me to a capacious tent, the covering of which was drawn up, so as
to render what was transacting within visible to those who stood
without. We found the tent surrounded by a great number of the
Indians, but we readily gained admission, and seated ourselves on
skins laid on the ground for that purpose. In the centre, I observed
that there was a place of an oblong shape, which was composed of
stakes stuck in the ground, with intervals between, so as to form a
kind of chest or coffin, large enough to contain the body of a man.
These were of a middle size, and placed at such a distance from each
other, that whatever lay within them was readily to be discerned. The
tent was perfectly illuminated by a great number of torches, made of
splinters cut from the pine or birch tree, which the Indians held in
their hands.

"In a few minutes the priest entered; when an amazing large elk's-skin
being spread on the ground, just at my feet, he laid himself down upon
it, after having stripped himself of every garment, except that which
he wore close about his middle. Being now prostrate on his back, he
first laid hold of one side of the skin, and folded it over him, and
then the other, leaving only his head uncovered. This was no sooner
done, than two of the young men who stood by took about forty yards of
strong cord, made also of an elk's hide, and rolled it tight round his
body, so that he was completely swathed within the skins. Being thus
bound up like an Egyptain Mummy, one took him by the heels and the
other by the head, and lifted him over the pales into the enclosure. I
could also now discern him as plain as I had hitherto done, and I
took care not to turn my eyes a moment from the object before me, that
I might the more readily detect the artifice; for such, I doubted not,
but that it would turn out to be.

"The priest had not lain in this situation more than a few seconds,
when he began to mutter. This he continued to do for some time, and
then by degrees grew louder and louder, till at length he spoke
articulately; however, what he uttered was in such a mixed jargon of
the Chippewas, Ottawas, and Killistinoe languages, that I could
understand but very little of it. Having continued in this tone for a
considerable while, he at last exerted his voice to its utmost pitch,
sometimes raving and sometimes praying, till he had worked himself
into such an agitation, that he foamed at his mouth.

"After having remained nearly three quarters of an hour in the place,
and continued his vociferation with unabated vigour, he seemed to be
quite exhausted, and remained speechless. But in an instant he sprang
upon his feet, notwithstanding, at the time he was put in, it appeared
impossible for him to move either his legs or arms; and, shaking off
his covering as quick as if the bands with which it had been bound
were burned asunder, he began to address those who stood around, in a
firm and audible voice. 'My brothers,' said he, 'the Great Spirit has
deigned to hold a talk with his servant, at my earnest request. He has
not, indeed, told me when the persons we expect will be here; but
to-morrow, soon after the sun has reached his highest point in the
heavens, a canoe will arrive, and the people in that will inform us
when the traders will come.'

"Having said this, he stepped out of the enclosure, and, after he had
put on his robes, dismissed the assembly.

"I own I was greatly astonished at what I had seen; but as I observed
that every eye in the company was fixed on me with a view to discover
my sentiments, I carefully concealed every emotion.

"The nest day the sun shone bright, and long before noon all the
Indians were gathered together on the eminence that overlooked the
lake. The old king came to me and asked me whether I had so much
confidence in what the priest had foretold, as to join his people on
the hill, and wait for the completion of it? I told him I was at a
loss what opinion to form of the prediction, but that I would readily
attend him. On this we walked together to the place where the others
were assembled. Every eye was again fixed by turns on me and on the
lake; when, just as the sun had reached his zenith, agreeable to what
the priest had foretold, a canoe came round a point of land about a
league distant. The Indians no sooner beheld it, than they set up a
universal shout, and by their looks seemed to triumph in the interest
their priest thus evidently had with the Great Spirit."

It is related by a Madame de Marson, that she was one day very uneasy
about her husband, who commanded at that time a post in Acadia; he was
still absent, though the time be had fixed for his return was already
past. An Indian woman, seeing Madame de Marson uneasy, asked her the
reason of it, and, having learned it, told her, after musing some time
on it, not to vex herself, that her husband would return such a day at
such an hour, naming both, with a grey hat on his head. As she
perceived the lady gave no credit to her prediction, she returned to
her at the day and hour she had assigned, and asked her whether she
would not come to see her husband arrive, and pressed her so strongly
to follow her, that at last she led her to the bank of the river.
They had scarcely arrived there, when Mons. de Marson appeared in a
canoe, with a grey hat on his head, and being told what had passed,
assured them that he was utterly at a loss to conceive which way the
Indian woman could know the day and hour of his arrival.

Another well attested story of successful jugglery is related in a
History of Virginia, the second edition of which appeared in 1722.
"Some years ago," says the author, "there happened a very dry time,
towards the heads of the rivers, and especially on the upper parts of
James River, where Colonel Byrd had several quarters of negroes. This
gentleman has been for a long time extremely respected and feared by
all the Indians round about, who, without knowing the name of any
governor, have ever been kept in order by him. During this drought, an
Indian, well known to one of the Colonel's overseers, came to him, and
asked if his tobacco was not like to be spoiled. The overseer
answered, yes, if they had not rain very suddenly. The Indian, who
pretended great kindness for his master, told the overseer, if he
would promise to give him two bottles of rum, he would bring him rain
enough. The overseer did not believe anything of the matter, not
seeing at that time the least appearance of rain, nor so much as a
cloud in the sky; however, he promised to give him the rum when his
master came thither, if he would be as good as his word; upon this the
Indian went immediately a _pauwawing_, as they call it; and in about
half an hour there came up a black cloud into the sky, that showered
down rain enough upon this gentleman's corn and tobacco, but none at
all upon any of the neighbours, except a few drops of the skirts of
the shower."

With a belief that these tales of Indian _diablerie_ will not be
uninteresting to the reader, I will relate one more. It is copied from
Long's Expedition to the Source of St. Peter's River. "About twenty
years ago, a large party of Indians, collected near Lake Travers, were
quite destitute of tobacco; not knowing how to procure any, they
applied to Tatankanaje (Standing Buffalo), a prophet of some
distinction, and the uncle of the present chief of the Kahras. This
man usually carried about him a little stone idol, carved into a human
shape; this he called his little man, and to it he always applied when
consulted in the way of his profession. Tatankanaje, being requested
to advise the best means of obtaining tobacco, made answer to them,
that if they would go to a certain place which he pointed out to them,
they would find his idol, and, by examining it, they would observe in
its hand a piece of tobacco. They did as he bade them, and found in
the little fellow's hand a piece about four inches long; this was
brought to the camp, and was thought to redound much to the credit
both of the prophet and the idol; but Tatankanaje then observed that
he would consult the little man, and ascertain where he had found the
tobacco, and how he came by it. This he did by putting interrogatories
to him, to which he pretended that audible answers were returned,
though of the many present not one heard them beside himself. The
purport of these answers, however, as he subsequently informed them,
was, that at a spot on the St. Peter, near to Redwood River, there was
a boat loaded with goods; that her commander, a French trader, having
been murdered by the Sioux, the crew had been alarmed, and had run
away, leaving the boat unguarded, together with her cargo, consisting
principally of tobacco; that the little man had seen her, and finding
a piece of tobacco on a keg, had brought it up. The prophet having
invited them to seek for it, they repaired to the spot, found the
boat, took the tobacco, and returned the rest of the goods to the
first French traders that passed up the river. This event happened, as
we were informed, in the presence of Renville and Freniers, two French
traders of reputation, both considered as intelligent and enlightened
men; they were the fathers of the two half-breed traders, with whom we
were acquainted. The story is given with all the particulars that
might be wished for; the name of the owner of the boat was Benjamin La
Goterie, a name well known in that country. The story has been current
ever since. The traders, who appear to credit it, state that it was
impossible for the prophet to have visited the spot and returned
without his absence being known, as the distance exceeds one hundred
miles; from whom he received his intelligence they never knew. As to
the Dahcotahs themselves, they never considered it possible that it
might be a knavery of the prophet's, but attributed it altogether to
his mystic lore.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17