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Intellectual Capacity and Character of the
Indian Race
Mythology and Oral Traditions
Indian Pictography
Of the topics which may be employed to
denote the mental character and capacities
of the aborigines, the principles of their
languages the style of their oratory the
oral imaginative lodge lore which they
possess and their mode of communicating
ideas by the use of symbolic and
representative devices, are the most
prominent. The two latter have been selected
on the present occasion. One reason for this
choice is the little information we have
heretofore had on the subjects. From a very
early age, the Indian of North America has
been observed to be a man possessing a
flexible and imaginative mythology; to be
prone to indulge in theories of cosmogony,
in which the want of a true knowledge of the
Deity, and a history of much pretensions to
consistency, has often been ingeniously
supplied by oral relations of the acts of
spiritual beings, which constitute a new
species of literary machinery, and who
supply an outlet for the exhibition of wild
poetic feelings, and fantastic theories of
the acts and doings of spirits, giants,
dwarfs, monsters and men. Another very
striking mode of setting forth these
beliefs, and exhibiting this miraculous
agency, exists in the reflex influence of
the curious devices which they have, from
the discovery, been found to draw, in a rude
way, on scrolls of bark, trees, rocks, and
various substances, and which they
denominate Ke-ké-win. Both the tales and the
drawings illustrate their modes of thought
on life, death, and a future state, and are
eminently characteristic traits.
Aboriginal Mythology and Oral
Traditions.
In directing attention to the
intellectual character, capacities, and
idiosyncrasies of the aboriginal race a
subject respecting which they have been
perhaps severely judged, some few traits of
their mythology, and an extended examination
of their peculiar mode of symbolic writing,
or pictography, are introduced.
It is known that the Indian allegory
presents an attractive field of fictitious
inquiry. Their oral traditions of gods and
monsters, spirits and genii, make a
prominent display in the winter arcanum of
the wigwam. Some of their allegories are
beautifully sustained. And where, as in
their miscellaneous legends and traditions,
there is much that is incongruous and
ridiculous, there is still evidence of no
little variety of intellectual invention.
Iroquois
Cosmogony
The tribes who compose this group of the
aborigines, concur in locating the beginning
of creative power in the upper regions of
space. Neo, or the Great Spirit of Life, is
placed there. Atahocan is the master of
heaven. Tarenyawagon, who is thought to be
the same as Michabou, Chiabo, Manabozho, and
the Great Hare, is called the keeper of the
Heavens. Agreskoe1
is the god of war. Atahentsic is the woman
of heaven. The beginning of the creation, or
of man, is connected with her history. One
of the six of the original number of created
men of heaven was enamored of her
immediately after seeing her. Atahocan,
having discovered this amour, cast her out
headlong to the earth. She was received
below on the back of a great turtle lying on
the waters, and was there delivered of
twins. One of them was Inigorio, or the Good
Mind; the other Anti-inigorio, or the Bad
Mind. The good and the evil principles were
thus introduced into the world. Both were
equally active, but the latter perpetually
employed himself in counteracting the acts
of the former.
The tortoise expanded more and more, and
finally became the earth. Atahentsic
afterwards had a daughter, who bore two
sons, YOS-KE-KA and THO-IT-SA-RON. YOS-KE-KA
in the end killed his brother, and
afterwards, Atahentsic, his grandmother,
resigned the government of the world to him.
The Iroquois affirm that Atahentsic is the
same as the moon, and YOS-KE-KA, the same as
the sun.
These things are elements of the earliest
and best authenticated relations. They
appear to denote a mixture of some of the
dogmas of Zoroaster, as the ancient sun
worship, with the idolatry, perhaps, of the
"Queen of Heaven."
Allegorical Traditions
of the Origin of Men of Mana-Bozho,
and of the Introduction of the Religious
Mysteries of the Medical
Magic.
At a certain time, a great Manito came on
earth, and took a wife of men. She had four
sons at a birth, and died in ushering them
into the world. The first was Manabozho, who
is the friend of the human race. The second
Chibiabos, who has the care of the dead, and
presides over the country of souls. The
third Wabasso, who, as soon as he saw light,
fled to the North, where he was changed into
a white rabbit, and, under that form, is
considered as a great spirit. The fourth was
Chokanipok, or the man of flint, or the
firestone.
The first thing Manabozho did, when he grew
up, was to go to war against Chokanipok,
whom he accused of his mother s death. The
contests between them were frightful and
long continued, and wherever they had a
combat the face of nature still shows signs
of it. Fragments were cut from his flesh,
which were transformed into stones, and he
finally destroyed Chokanipok by tearing out
his entrails, which were changed into vines.
All the flint-stones which are scattered
over the earth were produced in this way,
and they supplied men with the principle of
fire.
Manabozho was the author of arts and
improvements. He taught men how to make
agakwuts,2
lances, and arrow-points, and all implements
of bone and stone, and also how to make
snares, and traps, and nets, to take
animals, and birds, and fishes. He and his
brother Chibiabas lived retired, and were
very intimate, planning things for the good
of men, and were of superior and surpassing
powers of mind and body.
The Manitos who live in the air, the earth,
and the water, became jealous of their great
power, and conspired against them. Manabozho
had warned his brother against their
machinations, and cautioned him not to
separate himself from his side; but one day
Chibiabos ventured alone on one of the Great
Lakes. It was winter, and the whole surface
was covered with ice. As soon as he had
reached the centre the malicious Manitos
broke the ice, and plunged him to the
bottom, where they hid his body.
Manabozho wailed along the shores. He waged
a war against all the Manitos, and
precipitated numbers of them to the deepest
abyss. He called on the dead body of his
brother. He put the whole country in. dread
by his lamentations. He then besmeared his
face with black, and sat down six years to
lament, uttering the name of Chibiabos. The
Manitos consulted what to do to appease his
melancholy and his wrath. The oldest and
wisest of them, who had had no hand in the
death of Chibiabos, offered to undertake the
task of reconciliation. They built a sacred
lodge close to that of Manabozho, and
prepared a sumptuous feast. They procured
the most delicious tobacco, and filled a
pipe. They then assembled in order, one
behind the other, and each carrying under
his arm a sack formed of the skin of some
favorite animal, as a beaver, an otter, or a
lynx, and filled with precious and curious
medicines, culled from all plants. These
they exhibited, and invited him to the feast
with pleasing words and ceremonies. He
immediately raised his head, uncovered it,
and washed off his mourning colors and
besmearments, and then followed them. When
they had reached the lodge, they offered him
a cup of liquor prepared from the choicest
medicines, as, at once, a propitiation, and
an initiative rite. He drank it at a single
draught. He found his melancholy departed,
and felt the most inspiring effects. They
then commenced their dances and songs,
united with various ceremonies. Some shook
their bags at him as a token of skill. Some
exhibited the skins of birds filled with
smaller birds, which, by some art, would hop
out of the throat of the bag. Others showed
curious tricks with their drums. All danced,
all sang, all acted with the utmost gravity,
and earnestness of gestures; but with
exactness of time, motion, and voice.
Manabozho was cured; he ate, danced, sung,
and smoked the sacred pipe. In this manner
the mysteries of the Grand Medicine Dance
were introduced.
The before recreant Manitoes now all united
their powers, to bring Chibiabos to life.
They did so, and brought him to life, but it
was forbidden him to enter the lodge. They
gave him, through a chink, a burning coal,
and told him to go and preside over the
country of souls, and reign over the land of
the dead. They bid him with the coal to
kindle a fire for his aunts and uncles, a
term by which is meant all men who should
die thereafter, and make them happy, and let
it be an everlasting fire.
Manabozho went to the Great Spirit after
these things. He then descended to the
earth, and confirmed the mysteries of the
medicine-dance, and supplied all whom he
initiated with medicines for the cure of all
diseases. It is to him that we owe the
growth of all the medical roots, and
antidotes to every disease and poison. He
commits the growth of these to Misukumigakwa,
or the mother of the earth, to whom he makes
offerings.
Manabozho traverses the whole earth. He is
the friend of man. He killed the ancient
monsters whose bones we now see under the
earth; and cleared the streams and forests
of many obstructions which the Bad Spirit
had put there, to fit them for our
residence. He has placed four good Spirits
at the four cardinal points, to which we
point in our ceremonies. The Spirit at the
North gives snow and ice, to enable men to
pursue game and fish. The Spirit of the
South gives melons, maize, and tobacco. The
Spirit of the West gives rain, and the
Spirit of the East, light; and he commands
the sun to make his daily walks around the
earth. Thunder is the voice of these
Spirits, to whom we offer the smoke of sa-mau
(tobacco).
Manabozho, it is believed, yet lives on an
immense flake of ice in the Arctic Ocean. We
fear the white race will some day discover
his retreat, and drive him off. Then the end
of the world is at hand, for as soon as he
puts his foot on the earth again, it will
take fire, and every living creature perish
in the flames.
Allegory of the Origin
and History of the Osages.
The following tradition is taken from the
official records of the St. Louis
Superintendency.
The Osages believe that the first man of
their nation came out of a shell, and that
this man, when walking on earth, met with
the Great Spirit, who asked him where he
resided, and what he eat. The Osage
answered, that he had no place of residence,
and that he eat nothing. The Great Spirit
gave him a bow and arrows, and told him to
go a-hunting. So soon as the Great Spirit
left him, he killed a deer. The Great Spirit
gave him fire, and told him to cook his
meat, and to eat. He also told him to take
the skin and cover himself with it, and also
the skins of other animals that he would
kill.
One day, as the Osage was hunting, he came
to a small river to drink. He saw in the
river a beaver hut, on which was sitting the
chief of the family. He asked the Osage what
he was looking for, so near his lodge. The
Osage answered that, being thirsty, he was
forced to come and drink at that place. The
beaver then asked him who he was, and from
whence he came. The Osage answered, that he
had come from hunting, and that he had no
place of residence. "Well, then," said the
beaver, "you appear to be a reasonable man.
I wish you to come and live with me. I have
a large family, consisting of many
daughters, and if any of them should be
agreeable to you, you may marry." The Osage
accepted the offer, and, sometime after,
married one of the beaver s daughters, with
whom he had many children. Those children
have formed the Osage people. This marriage
of the Osage with the beaver, has been the
cause that the Osages do not kill the
beaver. They always supposed that by killing
the beaver, they were killing the Osages.
Pottawatomie
Theology
It is believed by the Pottawatomies, that
there are two Great Spirits, who govern the
world. One is called Kitchemonedo, or the
Great Spirit, the other Matchêmonedo, or the
Evil Spirit. The first is good and
beneficent; the other wicked. Some believe
that they are equally powerful, and they
offer them homage and adoration through
fear. Others doubt which of the two is most
powerful, and endeavor to propitiate both.
The greater part, however, believe as I,
Podajokeed do, that Kitchemonedo is the true
Great Spirit, who made the world, and called
all things into being; and that Matchêmonedo
ought to be despised.
When Kitchemonedo first made the world, he
filled it with a class of beings who only
looked like men, but they were perverse,
ungrateful, wicked dogs, who never raised
their eyes from the ground to thank him for
anything. Seeing this, the Great Spirit
plunged them, with the world itself, into a
great lake, and drowned them. He then
withdrew it from the water, and made a
single man, a very handsome young man, who,
as he was lonesome, appeared sad.
Kitchemonedo took pity on him, and sent him
a sister to cheer him in his loneliness.
After many years the young man had a dream
which he told to his sister. Five young men,
said he, will come to your lodge door this
night, to visit you. The Great Spirit
forbids you to answer or even look up and
smile at the first four; but when the fifth
comes, you may speak and laugh and show that
you are pleased. She acted accordingly. The
first of the five strangers that called was
Usama, or tobacco, and having been repulsed
he fell down and died; the second, Wapako,
or a pumpkin, shared the same fate; the
third, Eshkossimin, or melon, and the
fourth, Kokees, or the bean, met the same
fate. But when Tamin, or Montamin, which is
maize, presented himself, she opened the
skin tapestry door of her lodge, and laughed
very heartily, and gave him a friendly
reception. They were immediately married,
and from this union the Indians sprung.
Tamin forthwith buried the four unsuccessful
suitors, and from their graves there grew
tobacco, melons of all sorts, and beans; and
in this manner the Great Spirit provided
that the race which he had made, should have
something to offer him as a gift in their
feasts and ceremonies, and also something to
put into their akeeks or kettles, along with
their meat.
The Island of the
Blessed; or the Hunter's
Dream
There was once a beautiful girl, who died
suddenly on the day she was to have been
married to a handsome young hunter. He had
also proved his bravery in war, so that he
enjoyed the praises of his tribe, but his
heart was not proof against this loss. From
the hour she was buried, there was no more
joy or peace for him. He went often to visit
the spot where the women had buried her, and
sat musing there, when, it was thought by
some of his friends, he would have done
better to try and amuse himself in the
chase, or by diverting his thoughts in the
warpath. But war and hunting had lost their
charms for him. His heart was already dead
within him. He wholly neglected both his
war-club and his bows and arrows.
He had heard the old people say that there
was a path that led to the land of souls,
and he determined to follow it. He
accordingly set out one morning, after
having completed his preparations for the
journey. At first he hardly knew which way
to go. He was only guided by the tradition
that he must go south. For a while he could
see no change in the face of the country.
Forests, and hills, and valleys, and
streams, had the same looks which they wore
in his native place. There was snow on the
ground, when he set out, and it was
sometimes seen to be piled and matted on the
thick trees and bushes. At length it began
to diminish, and, as he walked on, finally
disappeared. The forest assumed a more
cheerful appearance, the leaves put forth
their buds, and before he was aware of the
completeness of the change, he found he had
left behind him the land of snow and ice.
The air became pure and mild; the dark
clouds had rolled away from the sky; a pure
field of blue was above him; and, as he went
forward in his journey, he saw flowers
beside his path, and heard the song of
birds. By these signs he knew that he was
going the right way, for they agreed with
the traditions of his tribe. At length he
spied a path. It took him through a grove,
then up a long and elevated ridge, on the
very top of which he came to a lodge. At the
door stood an old man with white hair, whose
eyes, though deeply sunk, had a fiery
brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins
thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a
staff in his hands.
The young man began to tell his story; but
the venerable chief arrested him before he
had proceeded to speak ten words. "I have
expected you," he replied, "and had just
risen to bid you welcome to my abode. She
whom you seek passed here but a short time
since, and being fatigued with her journey
rested herself here. Enter my lodge and be
seated, and I will then satisfy your
inquiries, and give you directions for your
journey from this point." Having done this,
and refreshed himself by rest, they both
issued forth from the lodge door. "You see
yonder gulf," said the old man, "and the
wide-stretching plain beyond: it is the land
of souls. You stand upon its borders, and my
lodge is the gate of entrance. But you
cannot take your body along.
Leave it here with your bow and arrows, your
bundle and your dog. You will find them safe
upon your return. "So saying he re-entered
the lodge, and the freed traveler bounded
forward as if his feet had suddenly been
endowed with the power of wings. But all
things retained their natural colors and
shapes. The woods and leaves, and streams
and lakes, were only more bright and comely
than he had ever witnessed. Animals bounded
across his path with a freedom and
confidence which seemed to tell him, there
was no blood shed there. Birds of beautiful
plumage inhabited the groves, and sported in
the waters. There was but one thing in which
he saw a very unusual effect. He noticed
that his passage was not stopped by trees or
other objects. He appeared to walk directly
through them: they were, in fact, but the
images or shadows of material forms. He
became sensible that he was in the land of
souls.
When he had travelled half a day s journey,
through a country which was continually
becoming more attractive, he came to the
banks of a broad lake, in the centre of
which was a large and beautiful island. He
found a canoe of white shining stone, tied
to the shore. He was now sure that he had
come the right path, for the aged man had
told him of this. There were also shining
paddles. He immediately entered the canoe,
and took the paddles in his hands, when, to
his joy and surprise, on turning round he
beheld the object of his search in another
canoe, exactly its counterpart in
everything. It seemed to be the shadow of
his own. She had exactly imitated his
motions, and they were side by side. They at
once pushed out from the shore, and began to
cross the lake. Its waves seemed to be
rising, and, at a distance, looked ready to
swallow them up; but just as they entered
the whitened edge of them, they seemed to
melt away, as if they were but the images of
waves. But no sooner was one wreath of foam
passed, than another, more threatening
still, rose up. Thus they were in perpetual
fear; but what added to it was the clearness
of the water, through which they could see
heaps of the bones of beings who had
perished before.
The Master of Life had, however, decreed to
let them pass, for the thoughts and acts of
neither of them had been bad. But they saw
many others struggling and sinking in the
waves. Old men and young men, males and
females, of all ages and ranks were there:
some passed and some sunk. It was only the
little children, whose canoes seemed to meet
no waves. At length every difficulty was
gone, as in a moment, and they both leaped
out on the happy island. They felt that the
very air was food. It strengthened and
nourished them. They wandered together over
the blissful fields, where everything was
formed to please the eye and the ear. There
were no tempests; there was no ice, nor
chilly winds; no one shivered for the want
of warm clothes; no one suffered for hunger;
no one mourned for the dead. They saw no
graves. They heard of no wars. Animals ran
freely about, but there was no blood spilled
in hunting them: for the air itself
nourished them. Gladly would the young
warrior have remained there for ever, but he
was obliged to go back for his body. He did
not see the Master of Life, but he heard his
voice, as if it were a soft breeze. "Go
back," said this voice, "to the land from
whence you came. Your time has not yet come.
The duties for which I made you, and which
you are to perform, are not yet finished.
Return to your people, and accomplish the
acts of a good man. You will be the ruler of
your tribe for many days. The rules you will
observe will be told you by my messenger,
who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back
your body, he will tell you what to do.
Listen to him, and you shall afterwards
rejoin the spirit which you have followed,
but whom you must now leave behind. She is
accepted, and will be ever here, as young
and as happy as she was when I first called
her from the land of snows."
When this voice ceased, the narrator awoke.
It was the fancy work of a dream, and he was
still in the bitter land of snows and
hunger, death and tears.
The Fate Of The
Redheaded Magician
Indian life is a life of vicissitudes the
year round. As spring returns, the Indians
who have been out during the winter, in the
hunting grounds, come back to their villages
in great numbers, and, in a short time, they
have nothing to eat. Among them, however,
there are always several who are willing to
glean the neighboring woods for game; these
remove from the large villages, and usually
go off in separate families to support
themselves.
One of these families was composed of a man,
his wife, and one son, who is called
Odkshedoaph Waucheentonoah, which signifies
The Child of Strong Desires. The latter was
about fifteen years old.
They arrived, the first day, at a place
which they thought suitable to encamp at.
The wife fixed the lodge the husband went to
hunt. Early in the evening he returned with
a deer. He and his wife being tired, he
requested his son to go after some water, to
the river near by. He replied that it was
dark, and he dared not go. No persuasion
availing, the father brought it. There was a
village in the vicinity of this place, in
which was a warrior of another tribe, called
the Redhead, who was celebrated for his
bravery and his warlike deeds. The young men
of the neighboring villages had attempted,
in vain, to take his scalp he was too
powerful and subtle for their valor or
cunning. He lived on an island in the middle
of a lake.
The father told the son that, if he was
afraid to go to the river for water after
dark, he would never kill the Red-Head. The
young man was greatly mortified at these
observations he would eat nothing, neither
would he speak.
The next day he asked his mother to dress
the skin of the deer, and make it into
moccasins for him while he busied himself in
making a bow and four arrows. Without
speaking to his father or mother, he
departed at sunrise in the morning, and
fired one of his arrows, which fell towards
the west, which he took for his course. At
night he came to the place where his arrow
had fallen, and, to his joy, he found it in
a deer. On a piece of this he feasted. The
next morning he fired another, and at night
he found it in another deer. In this manner
he fired the four, and was equally fortunate
with all; and what was very singular, he
carelessly left all of his arrows sticking
in the carcasses of the deers he had killed.
During the fifth day he was in great
distress having nothing to eat, nor anything
to obtain food with. Towards night he threw
himself upon the ground in utter des pair,
concluding that he might as well perish
there, as go farther and meet with the same
end. But soon he heard a hollow rumbling
noise in the ground beneath him he sprang
up, and discovered at a distance a figure
like that of a human being, afar off,
walking with a stick, in a wide hard path
leading from a lake to a cabin, in the
middle of a large prairie. To his surprise
this cabin was near to him. He approached a
little nearer, and concealed himself. He
soon discovered that the figure was no other
than that terrible witch Wokonkahlohn
Zooeyah'pee Kahhaitchee or the Little Old
Woman who makes War. Her path to the lake
was perfectly solid, from her frequent
visits to the water; and the noise our
adventurer had heard was occasioned by her
striking her walking-stick upon the ground.
On the top of this cane were tied by the
toes birds of every feather who, whenever
the stick struck the earth, fluttered and
sang in concert their various songs.
She entered the cabin, and (unperceived by
him) laid off her mantle, which was entirely
made of the scalps of women. Before folding
it she shook it several times, and every
time these scalps uttered loud and repeated
shouts of laughter, in which the old hag
joined. Nothing could have frightened him
more than these sounds, which he could in no
manner account for. After she had laid by
the cloak, she came directly to him; she
having known where he was all the while. She
told him neither to fear nor despair, for
she would be his friend and protector. She
took him into her cabin, and gave him a
supper. She inquired his motives for
visiting her. He gave her his history, and
stated his difficulties, and the manner he
had been disgraced. She cheered him, and
assured him he would be a brave man yet.
His hair being very short, she took a large
leaden comb, and after drawing it through
several times, his hair became very long.
She then proceeded to dress him as a female,
furnishing him with the necessary garments,
painting his face in a beautiful manner, and
presented him with a basin of shining metal.
She directed him to put in his girdle a
blade of that wide grass, the edge of which
is very sharp, and to go in the morning to
the bank of the lake, which was no other
than that where Red-Head reigned. She
advised him that there would be many Indians
on the island, who, when he used his basin
to drink with, would discover him, and come
to him to solicit him to be their wife, and
to take him across to the island. This he
was to refuse, and say that he had come a
great way to be the wife of Redhead; and
that if he could not cross with his own
canoe for her, he should return to his
village. Soon Redhead would come in his own
canoe, in which he was to cross to consent
to become his wife; and in the evening he
must induce him to walk, when he was to take
the first convenient opportunity to cut off
his head with the blade of grass. She gave
him also general advice of the manner he was
to conduct himself, to sustain the assumed
character of a woman. His fears would
scarcely permit him to accede to this plan;
but the recollection of his father s words
and looks decided him.
Early the next morning he left the cabin of
the old woman, and took his way to the bank
of the lake. He arrived at a place directly
opposite the village of Redhead. It was a
beautiful day; the heavens were clear, and
the sun shone with great radiance.
He had not sauntered long upon the beach,
displaying his basin (which glistened
astonishingly) to those on the island, by
frequently dipping the water and drinking
there from, before many came to see him; and
all who saw, admiring his dress and personal
charms, became suitors and proposed
marriage. All offers were rejected, as the
witch had advised. At length the Red-Head,
hearing of the speech of this wonderful
girl, crossed in his own canoe, which was
manned by his own men, and the ribs of which
were made of living rattlesnakes, who were
to warn him of all treachery and defend him
from his enemies. Our adventurer had no
sooner stepped into the canoe, than they
commenced a terrible hissing and rattling,
which nearly frightened him out of his wits.
They were pacified and finally quieted by
Redhead, whose proposals were accepted. The
fancied bride immediately embarked with him,
and, after landing upon the island, the
marriage took place, and the bride made
various valuable presents to Redhead, which
had been furnished by the hag.
As they were sitting in the cabin of
Redhead, around whom was collected his
numerous relations, the mother of Redhead
regarded with an attentive eye, for a long
time, the face of her new daughter-in-law.
From this scrutiny, she was firmly convinced
that this singular marriage augured no good
to her son. She drew her husband to another
part of the lodge, and disclosed to him her
suspicions. "This can be no female," said
she. "The figure and manners, the
countenance, and, more especially, the
expression of the eyes, are, beyond doubt,
those of a man." Her husband immediately
rejected her suspicions, and rebuked her
severely for the indignity offered her
daughter-in-law. He became so angry, that,
seizing the first thing which came to hand,
which happened to be his pipe-stem, and one
of a good size, he beat his wife in a most
unmerciful manner.
Upon inquiry, the spectators were informed
of the cause of the difficulty; soon after
which our adventurer, rising, told Red-Head
that, after receiving so gross and
outrageous an insult from his relations, he
could not think of remaining with him as his
wife, but should return at once to his own
village and friends. He left the lodge,
followed by Redhead, and walked until he
came upon the beach of the island, near the
place where he first landed. Redhead
entreated him to remain. He urged every
argument and every motive which he thought
could have weight, but they were all
rejected. During this conference, they had
seated themselves upon the ground, and
Red-Head, in great sorrow, had reclined
himself upon our adventurer s lap, who used
various means to soothe him, and
occasionally yielded apparently to his
desire to have him remain. Finally, after
one of these promises, his feelings having
become calm, Redhead fell into a deep sleep.
Immediately our adventurer seized his blade
of grass, and applying it to the neck of
Redhead, drew it across and severed the head
from the body. Stripping himself of his
dress, he caught the head, and, plunging
into the lake, just reached the other shore
when he discovered in the darkness of the
night the torches of those who were
searching for the new-married couple. He
listened until they had found the headless
body, and heard their piercing shrieks of
sorrow, when he took his way to the cabin of
his adviser.
When he reached the cabin, how much did the
Witch rejoice at his success! She admired
his prudence, and told him his bravery could
never be questioned again.
Taking the head, she said he need only have
brought the scalp; then cutting off a small
piece for herself, she informed him he might
now return home with the head which would be
an evidence of an achievement, that would
cause him to be respected among all Indians.
"In your way home you will meet with but one
difficulty. The God of the Earth,
Maunkahkeeshwoccaung, requires an offering
from those who per form the most
extraordinary achievements. As you walk
along in a prairie there will be an
earthquake the earth will open and divide
the prairie in the middle. Take this
partridge and throw it into the opening, and
instantly spring over it." All this happened
precisely as she had foretold, and he
reached a place near his village in safety
where he secreted the head of Redhead. On
entering the village he found that his
parents had returned to that place, and that
they were in great sorrow and distress for
the loss of their son. One and another of
the young men had presented themselves to
the disconsolate parents, and said, "Look
up, I am your son." Having been often
deceived in this manner, when their own son
presented himself they sat with their heads
down and with their eyes nearly blinded with
weeping. It was long before they could be
prevailed upon to bestow a glance upon him.
It was yet longer before they recognised him
for their son; but when he recounted his
adventures they believed him mad the young
men laughed at him. He left the lodge, and
returned after a short absence with the Red
Head. That well-known head was soon
recognised, and our adventurer was
immediately placed among the first warriors
of the nation, and himself and family were
ever after greatly respected and esteemed.
The Magic Circle In The
Prairie. An Allegory
A young hunter found a circular path one
day in a prairie, without any trail leading
to, or from it. It was smooth and
well-beaten, and looked as if footsteps had
trod in it recently. This puzzled and amazed
him. He hid himself in the grass near by, to
see what this wonder should betoken. After
waiting a short time, he thought he heard
music in the air. He listened more
attentively and could clearly distinguish
the sound, but nothing could be seen but a
mere speck, like something almost out of
sight. In a short time it became plainer and
plainer, and the music sweeter and sweeter.
The object descended rapidly, and when it
came near it proved to be a car or basket of
ozier containing twelve beautiful girls, who
each had a kind of little drum which was
struck with the grace of an angel. It came
down in the centre of the ring, and the
instant it touched the ground they leapt out
and began to dance in the circle, at the
same time striking a shining ball.
The young hunter had seen many a dance, but
none that, equaled this. The music was
sweeter than ever he had heard. But nothing
could equal the beauty of the girls. He
admired them all, but was most struck with
the youngest. He determined to seize her,
and after getting near the circle without
giving alarm made the attempt; but the
moment they spied a man, they all nimbly
leapt into the basket and were drawn back to
the skies.
Poor Algon the hunter was completely foiled.
He stood gazing upward as they withdrew till
there was nothing left, and then began to
bewail his fate. "They are gone for ever,
and I shall see them no more." He returned
to his lodge, but he could not forget this
wonder. His mind preyed upon it all night,
and the next day he went back to the
prairie, but in order to conceal his design
he turned himself into an opossum. He had
not waited long when he saw the wicker car
descend, and heard the same sweet music.
They commenced the same sportive dance, and
seemed even more beautiful and graceful than
before. He crept slowly towards the ring,
but the instant the sisters saw him they
were startled, and sprang into their car. It
rose but a short distance when one of the
elder sisters spoke. "Perhaps," said she,
"it is come to show us how the game is
played by mortals." "Oh no!" the youngest
replied, "quick, let us ascend." And all
joining in a chant, they rose out of sight.
Algon returned to his own lodge again; but
the night seemed a very long one, -and he
went back betimes the next day. He reflected
upon the plan to follow to secure success.
He found an old stump near by in which there
were a number of mice: he thought their
small form would not create alarm, and
accordingly assumed the "shape of a mouse.
He first brought the stump and set it up
near the ring. The sisters came down and
resumed their sport. "But see," cried the
younger sister, "that stump was not there
before." She ran affrighted towards the car.
They only smiled, and gathering round the
stump, struck it in jest, when out ran the
mice, and Algon among the rest. They killed
them all but one, which was pursued by the
youngest sister; but just as she had raised
her stick to kill it, the form of the hunter
arose, and he clasped his prize in his arms.
The other eleven sprang to their ozier
basket and were drawn up to the skies.
He exerted all his skill to please his bride
and win her affections. He wiped the tears
from her eyes. He related his adventures in
the chase. He dwelt upon the charms of life
on the earth. He was incessant in his
attentions, and picked out the way for her
to walk as he led her gently towards his
lodge. He felt his heart glow with joy as
she entered it, and from that moment he was
one of the happiest of men. Winter and
summer passed rapidly away, and their
happiness was increased by the addition of a
beautiful boy to their lodge circle. She was
in truth the daughter of one of the stars,
and as the scenes of earth began to pall
upon her sight, she sighed to revisit her
father. But she was obliged to hide these
feelings from her husband. She remembered
the charm that would carry her up, and took
occasion while Algon was engaged in the
chase to construct a wicker basket, which
she kept concealed. In the mean time she
collected such rarities from the earth as
she thought would please her father as well
as the most dainty kinds of food. When all
was in readiness, she went out one day while
Algon was absent to the charmed ring, taking
her little son with her. As soon as they got
into the car, she commenced her song and the
basket rose. As the song was wafted by the
winds, it caught her husband s ear. It was a
voice which he well knew, and he instantly
ran to the prairie. But he could not reach
the ring before he saw his wife and child
ascend. He lifted up his voice in loud
appeals, but they were unavailing. The
basket still went up. He watched it till it
became a small speck, and finally it
vanished in the sky. He then bent his head
down to the ground, and was miserable.
Algon bewailed his loss through a long
winter and a long summer. But he found no
relief. He mourned his wife s loss sorely,
but his son s still more. In the mean time,
his wife had reached her home in the stars,
and almost forgot, in the blissful
employments there, that she had left a
husband on the earth. She was reminded of
this by the presence of her son, who, as he
grew up, became anxious to visit the scene
of his birth. His grandfather said to his
daughter one day, "Go, my child, and take
your son down to his father, and ask him to
come up and live with us. But tell him to
bring along a specimen of each kind of bird
and animal he kills in the chase." She
accordingly took the boy and descended.
Algon, who was ever near the enchanted spot,
heard her voice as she came down the sky.
His heart beat with impatience as he saw her
form and that of his son, and they were soon
clasped in his arms.
He heard the message of the Star, and began
to hunt with the greatest activity, that he
might collect the present. He spent whole
nights, as well as days, in searching for
every curious and beautiful bird or animal.
He only preserved a tail, foot, or wing of
each, to identify the species; and, when all
was ready, they went to the circle and were
carried up.
Great joy was manifested on their arrival at
the starry plains. The star-chief invited
all his people to a feast, and, when they
had assembled, he proclaimed aloud, that
each one might take of the earthly gifts
such as he liked best. A very strange
confusion immediately arose. Some chose a
foot, some a wing, some a tail, and some a
claw. Those who selected tails or claws were
changed into animals, and ran off; the
others assumed the form of birds, and flew
away. Algon chose a white hawk s feather,
which was his totem. His wife and son
followed his example, when each one became a
white hawk. He spread his wings, and,
followed by his wife and son, descended to
the earth, where his species are still to be
found.
The History of the
Little Orphan who Carries the White Feather.
A Dacota Legend.
There was an old man with his grandchild,
whom he had taken when quite an infant, who
lived in the middle of a forest. The child
had no other relative. They had all been
destroyed by six large giants, and he was
not informed that he ever had any other
parent or protector than his grandfather.
The nation to whom he belonged had put up
their children as a wager against those of
the giants, upon a race, which the giants
gained, and thus destroyed all the other
children. Being the sixth child, he was
called Chácopee.
There was a prediction, that there would be
a great man of this nation, who would wear a
white feather, and who would astonish every
one with his skill and bravery.
The grandfather gave the child a bow and
some arrows to play with. He went into the
woods and saw a rabbit, but not knowing what
it was, he came to his grand father and
described it to him. He told him what it
was, and that it was good to eat, and that
if he shot one of his arrows at it, he would
probably kill it. He did so; and in this
manner he continued on hunting under the
instructions of his grandfather, acquiring
skill in killing deer and other large
animals, and he became an approved hunter.
His curiosity was excited to know what was
passing in the world. He went one day to the
edge of a prairie, where he saw ashes like
those at his home, and poles of lodges. He
returned and inquired if his grandfather
made them. He was told that he had not, nor
had he seen any such things; that it was all
his imagination.
Another day he went out to see what there
was curious, and on entering into the woods,
he heard a voice calling after him "Come
here, you wearer of the white feather. You
do not wear the white feather yet, but you
ought to wear it. Return home and take a
short nap. When asleep, you will hear a
voice which will tell you to rise and smoke;
you will see in your dream a pipe, sack, and
a large white feather. When you awake you
will find these articles. Put the feather on
your head, and you will become a great
hunter, a great warrior, and a great man,
capable of doing anything. As a proof that
you will be a great hunter, when you smoke
the smoke will turn into pigeons." He then
informed him who he was; of the fate of his
real parents, brothers, and sisters; and of
the imposition his grandfather now practiced
on him. He gave him a vine, and told him he
was of an age to revenge his relations. When
you meet your enemy, you will run a race
with him; he will not see the vine, it being
enchanted. When you are running with him,
you will throw it over his head, and
entangle him so as you will win the race."
Long ere this speech was ended, he had
turned to the quarter from whence the voice
came, and, to his astonishment, saw there
was another man in the world beside his
grandfather; but what most surprised him was
that this was an old man, who, from his
breast down, was wood, and he appeared to be
immovably fixed to the earth.
He returned home, slept, heard the voice,
awakened, and found the promised articles.
His grandfather was greatly surprised to
find him with a white feather, and to see
flocks of pigeons flying out of his lodge.
He then recollected what had been predicted,
and began to weep at the prospect of losing
his charge.
He departed the next morning for the purpose
of seeking his enemies and revenging himself
upon them. He came to a large lodge in the
middle of a wood, which was occupied by his
enemies, the giants, the inhabitants of
which had been apprised of his coming by the
little spirits who carry the news. They came
out and gave the cry of joy, and as he
approached nearer, they began to make sport
of him among them selves, saying, " Here
comes the little man with the white feather,
who is to do such wonders;" but at the same
time to him they talked very fair, telling
him he was a brave man, and would do every
thing. This was to encourage him to go on to
his own destruction. He knew, however, what
they were about.
Chácopee went into the lodge fearlessly, and
they told him to commence the race with the
smallest of them. The goal, or stake to
which they run, was a peeled tree, towards
the rising sun, and then back to the
starting place, where was a Chaunkahpee, or
war-club, made of wood as hard as iron,
which he who won the race was to use to cut
off the other s head with. They ran;
Chácopee used his vine and gained the race,
and immediately cut off his competitor s
head. In this manner he destroyed five of
them. This was the work of five successive
mornings. The survivor wished him to leave
the heads as he cut them off; as they
believed by one of their medicines they
could unite them again to the bodies; but
the little champion insisted upon carrying
them to his grandfather.
On the sixth morning, before he went to the
giant s lodge, he saw his old counselor, who
was stationary in the woods, who told him
that he was about to be deceived; that he
had never known any other sex than his own;
that as he was on his way to the lodge he
would meet the most beautiful woman in the
world, to whom he was to pay no attention,
but on meeting her to wish himself to change
into a male elk; that the transformation
would take place, and the animal would go to
feeding, and not regard the woman.
He proceeded towards the lodge, met the
temptress, and became an elk. She reproached
him (this woman, by the way, was the sixth
giant) for having turned into an elk on
seeing her, who had travelled a great
distance for the purpose of courting him and
becoming his wife. Her reproaches and beauty
affected him so much that he wished himself
a man again, and he at once resumed his
natural shape. They sat down together, and
he began to caress and make love to her, and
finally laid his head in her lap and went to
sleep. She kept pushing him off her lap, for
the purpose of trying if he was sound
asleep, and when it awakened him, told him
she disturbed him because he laid too heavy
upon her. Finally, when he became very sound
asleep, she took her axe and broke his back.
She then assumed her natural shape, which
was that of the sixth giant, changed
Chácopee into a dog, and made him follow her
towards the lodge in that degrading shape.
He took the white feather, and stuck it in
his own head.
There was an Indian village at some
distance, in which were two girls, rival
sisters, the daughters of a chief, who were
doing penance for the purpose of enticing
the carrier of the white feather to their
village. They each hoped to make him their
husband. They each made themselves lodges a
short distance from the village. As he
approached, the girls saw the white feather,
and the eldest prepared her lodge in a neat
manner, for the purpose of receiving him.
The other, supposing his choice would not be
made for such parade, as he was a wise man,
touched nothing about her lodge. The eldest
went out and met him, and invited him in. He
accepted the invitation, and soon made her
his wife. The youngest invited the dog into
her lodge, made him a good bed, and treated
him with attention, as if he were her
husband.
The sixth giant, supposing that whoever
possessed the white feather possessed also
all its virtues, went out upon the prairie
to hunt, but returned without anything. The
dog went out the same day hunting upon a
river, and drew a stone out of the water^
which immediately became a beaver. The next
day the giant followed the dog, and, hiding
behind a tree, saw the dog go to the river
and draw out a stone, which at once turned
into a beaver. As soon as the dog had left
the place, the giant went to the river, and
pulling out a stone, had the satisfaction of
seeing it transformed into a beaver also.
Tying it to his belt, he carried it home,
and, as is customary, threw it down by the
door of his lodge and entered in. After he
had been seated a short time, he told his
wife to bring in his belt, or collar. She
did so; and returned with it, tied to
nothing but a stone.
The next day, the dog finding his method of
catching beavers was discovered by the
giant, went to a wood at some distance, and
broke off a limb from a tree which had been
scorched black by the fire, which
immediately became a bear. The giant, who
had again watched him, did the same, and
carried a bear home, but his wife could find
nothing but a burnt stick tied to his belt.
The next day, the wife determined she would
go to her father, and let him know what a
valuable hunter she had for her husband. As
soon as they had departed, the dog made
signs to his mistress, or wife, to sweat him
after the manner of the Indians. She
accordingly made a lodge, just large enough
for him to creep into, put in heated stones
in such a manner that she could pour water
upon them, and after she had sweated him
thus for some time, he came out a very
handsome man, but had not the power of
speech.
The eldest daughter went to her father, and
told him of the disgraceful manner in which
her sister lived with a dog, and also of his
singular faculty for hunting.
The old man suspecting there was some magic
in it, sent a deputation of young men and
women to ask her to come to him, and to
bring her dog with her. They went, and were
much surprised to find in the place of the
dog so fine a young man. They accompanied
the delegation to the father, who was also
much astonished. He assembled all the wise
and aged men of the nation, to see the
strange exploits of the wearer of the white
feather, which it was understood he could
perform. The giant took his pipe and filled
it, and passed it to the Indians, to see if
anything would happen when they smoked. It
passed around to the dog, who made a sign to
pass it to the giant first, which was done;
but he effected nothing. Then the dog-man
took it, and made a sign to them to put the
white feather upon his head. This was done
immediately he regained his speech; he
smoked, and behold immense flocks of pigeons
rushed from the smoke.
The chief demanded of him his history, which
he recounted to him faithfully. The chief,
after it was finished, ordered that the
giant should be transformed into a dog, and
turned into the middle of the village, and
that the boys should with clubs pound him to
death.
The chief then ordered, on the petition of
the White Feather, that all the young men
should employ themselves four days in making
arrows, and gave him a buffalo robe. This
robe the White Feather cut into small
pieces, and sowed in the prairie. At the end
of the four days he invited them to a
buffalo hunt; and they found that those
pieces of skin had become a very large herd
of buffalo. They killed as many as they
pleased, and had a grand feast.
The White Feather then got his wife to ask
her father if he would permit her to visit
White-Feather s grandfather with him. He
replied to this solicitation that a woman
must follow her husband into whatever
quarter of the world he may choose to go.
They departed, made their visit, and were
received with joy.
1. Charlevoix sees a
Greek root, as the origin of the word
Agreskoe.
2. Axes.
Archives Of
Aboriginal Knowledge
Archives Of Aboriginal
Knowledge, Henry R. Schoolcraft, 1860
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