Chapter 3
There brave Man-te-o, the Faithful, Ruled the Cro-a-to-ans with firmness, Dwelt in peace beside the waters, Smoked his pipe beneath the pine-tree, Gazed with pride upon his bear-skins Which hung ready for the winter. Told his people all the marvels Of the Land-of-the-Pale-Faces; Of the ships with wings like sea-birds Wherein he had crossed the water;[M] Of the Pale-Face Weroanza[N] Whom he saw in her own country; Of her robes of silken texture, Of her wisdom and her power; Told them of her warlike people And their ships which breathed the lightning. How he pledged with them a friendship, Hoping they would come to teach him How to make his people mighty, How to make them strong in battle So the other tribes would fear them. And the dream of future greatness Filled the Cro-a-to-ans with courage; And their hearts grew warm and friendly To the race of white-faced strangers.
When bold white men came among them, To the isle of Ro-a-no-ak, Man-te-o, the friendly Weroance, Faithful proved to all his pledges. Smoked with them the pipe of friendship, Took their God to be his Father; Took upon his swarthy forehead Their strange emblem of salvation,[O] Emblem of the One Great Spirit, Father of all tribes and nations. Man-te-o, the friend and brother, Bade them fear the false Wan-ches-e, And the Weroance Win-gin-a, Whose hearts burned with bitter hatred For the men they feared in combat, For the strangers who defied them.
When the Pale-Face, weak and hungry, Feeble from continued labor, Shivered in the blasts of winter Which blew cold across the water, Then Wan-ches-e planned their ruin, With Win-gin-a sought to slay them.
To the isle of Ro-a-no-ak, Where the Pale-Face slept unguarded, Sped the swift canoes of Red Men, Gliding through the silent shadows. As the sky grew red with dawning,[P] While they dreamed of home and kindred, Suddenly with whoop of murder Wily Indians swarmed around them.
Skill of Pale-Face, craft of Red Man, Met in fierce, determined battle; While within the Fort called Ralegh Many arrows fell, like raindrops. Arrows tipped with serpent's poison, Arrows tipped with blazing rosin, Winged with savage thirst for murder, Aimed with cruel skill to torture. Threatened by the blazing roof-tree Then the Pale-Face crouched in terror; Saw the folly of resistance, Feared his doom, and fled for safety.
Man-te-o, alert for danger, From afar saw signs of conflict; Saw the waves of smoke ascending Heavenward, like prayers for rescue. Swift, with boats and trusty warriors, Crossed he then to Ro-a-no-ak; Strong to help his Pale-Face brothers, Faithful to his friendly pledges.
As the daylight slowly faded, Hopeless of the bloody struggle, Stealthily the Pale-Face warriors Fled with Man-te-o's brave people. Left they then the Fort called Ralegh, Left the dead within its stockade; Sought another island refuge, Hoping there to rest in safety.
Man-te-o sought for the mother,[Q] She with babe there born and nurtured 'Neath the shadow of disaster, In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water. "Come," said he, "the darkness falleth, All your people must flee henceward; Wan-ches-e will show no mercy, You must not become his captive. Take the papoose from thy bosom, Call the white chief whom thou lovest, Haste with me upon the flood-tide To my wigwam on Wo-ko-kon."
Noiseless, she amid the conflict Sought her heart's mate to flee with her; Useless all the strife and courage, Useless all the rude home-making; Shrine for worship, fort for safety, Hope of future peace and plenty, All were vain; yet life we cherish, Far above all boons we hold it: So she hastened on her mission For the life of self and loved ones.
As they neared the island border, Pale-Face husband, child, and mother, Man-te-o in silence leading, Every sense alive to danger, Suddenly the Pale-Face father Thought him of the parting caution Given by their absent leader: If they fled in search of safety On a tree to leave a token, Whereby he might surely find them, In the land which gave them shelter, When he came again to seek them.[R]
By his side a sturdy live-oak Spread its green, protecting branches; Quick he strove to carve the token Which should speak to all who followed. C. R. O., in bold, plain letters[S] Cut he in the tree's firm body, When a random, poisoned arrow Pierced his heart, and he fell lifeless.
With a smothered cry of horror, In an agony of sorrow, She would fain have lingered near him, But that Man-te-o urged onward. If discovered, flight was futile, Weakness now meant worse disaster; She must save her helpless baby Though her heart be rent with anguish.
Frantic with love's desolation, Strong with thoughts of home and father, With a woman's wondrous calmness When great peril calls for action, Safe she placed the sleeping infant 'Cross the brawny arms of Man-te-o, While with knife drawn from his girdle Carved she on another live-oak Plain, the one word "CROATOAN"[T] As a sign to all her people. Trusting all to savage friendship, Cutting hope with every letter, Praying God to guide her father To the haven she was seeking.
Trust is woman's strongest bulwark, All true manhood yields unto it. As her sad eyes turned upon him Man-te-o was moved with pity For the brave and tender woman, Friendless in the land without him.
On the brow of Pale-Face baby First he made the Holy Cross-Sign; Then upon the sad-eyed mother Traced the sign her people taught him; Then again the sacred symbol Outlined on his own dark forehead; And with open hand uplifted Sealed his promise of protection; Linking thus his pledge of safety With her faith in Unseen Power.
Mute with grief, she trusted in him; In his boat they crossed the water, While the night fell like a mantle Spread in mercy to help save them.
When in Cro-a-to-an they landed, There they found the few survivors Of that day of doom to many, Glad once more to greet each other. Man-te-o within his wigwam From the cold wind gave them shelter, Shared with them his furry bear-skins, Made them warm, and warmth gave courage To meet life's relentless duties.
Then he summoned all the people, Called the old men and the young men, Bade the squaws to come and listen, Showed the papoose to the women. They gazed on its tender whiteness, Stroked the mother's flaxen tresses; "'Tis a snow-papoose" they whispered, "It will melt when comes the summer."
Man-te-o said to the warriors: "Ye all know these Pale-Face people Whom Wan-ches-e sought to murder, They have often made us welcome. Brave their hearts, but few are living, If left friendless these will perish; We have store of corn and venison, They are hungry, let us feed them; They have lightning for their arrows, Let them teach us how to shoot it. They with us shall search the forest, And our game shall be abundant; Let them teach us their strange wisdom And become with us one people."
And the old men, grave in counsel, And the young men, mute with deference, While the uppowoc[U] was burning, Pondered on his words thus spoken, And to Man-te-o gave answer: "All your words are full of wisdom; We will share with them our venison, They shall be as our own people."
From the isle of Ro-a-no-ak Thus the Pale-Face fled for succor, Thus in Cro-a-to-an's fair borders Found a home with friendly Red Men. Nevermore to see white faces, Nevermore to see their home-land, Yet to all the future ages Sending proof of honest daring; Forging thus a link of effort In the chain of human progress.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote M: See Appendix, Note _l_.]
[Footnote N: Queen Elizabeth.]
[Footnote O: See Appendix, Note _f_.]
[Footnote P: See Appendix, Note _m_.]
[Footnote Q: Eleanor Dare.]
[Footnote R: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote S: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote T: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote U: Tobacco.]
II
THE PALE-FACE MAIDEN
Nature feels no throb of pity, Makes no pause for human heartbreak; Though with agony we quiver, She gives forth no sign of feeling. Waxed and waned the moon, in season, Ebbed and flowed the tides obedient; Summers filled the land with plenty, Winters chilled the summers' ardor. No winged ships gleamed in the offing; No Pale-Faces sought their kindred; In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water Roamed the Red Man unmolested.
While the babe of Ro-a-no-ak Grew in strength and wondrous beauty; Like a flower of the wildwood, Bloomed beside the Indian maidens. And Wi-no-na Skâ[V] they called her, She of all the maidens fairest. In the tangles of her tresses Sunbeams lingered, pale and yellow; In her eyes the limpid blueness Of the noonday sky was mirrored. And the squaws of darksome features Smiled upon her fair young beauty; Felt their woman hearts within them Warming to the Pale-Face maiden. And the braves, who scorned all weakness, Listened to her artless prattle, While their savage natures softened, Of the change themselves unconscious.
Like the light of summer morning Beaming on a world in slumber Was the face of young Wi-no-na To the Cro-a-to-ans who loved her. She, whose mind bore in its dawning Impress of developed races, To the rude, untutored savage Seemed divinely 'dowed with reason. She, the heir of civilization, They, the slaves of superstition, Gave to her a silent rev'rence, Growing better with such giving. Oft she told them that the Cross-Sign, Made by Man-te-o before them When he talked to his own nation, Was the symbol of a Spirit Great, and good, and wise, and loving; He who kept the maize-fields fruitful, He who filled the sea with fishes, He who made the sun to warm them And sent game to feed His children.
If, when in their games or councils, They grew quarrelsome and angry, Suddenly among them standing Was a maiden like the sunrise, Making with her taper finger This strange sign which they respected; And without a word of pleading Strife and wrath would no more vex them, While the influence of her presence Lingered 'round them like enchantment.
Thus the babe of Ro-a-no-ak Grew to be the joy and teacher Of a tribe of native heathen In the land which gave her shelter. And the tide of her affections Flowed to those who gave her friendship; Whom alone she knew as human, Whom to her became as kindred.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote V: Literally, "first-born white daughter."]
III
SAVAGE SORCERY
Man-to-ac, the Mighty Father, When he filled the earth with blessings, Deep within the heart of Woman Hid the burning Need-of-Loving; Which through her should warm the ages With a flame of mutual feeling, Throbbing through her sons and daughters With a force beyond their power. And this law of human loving, Changeless through unending changes, Fills each living heart with yearning For another heart to love it; And against this ceaseless craving Creed, nor clime, nor color standeth; Heart to heart all nature crieth That the earth may thrill with gladness.
So the young braves of the nation, Thrilled with love for fair Wi-no-na, Made rude ornaments to please her, Laid the red deer at her wigwam. Brought her skins of furry rabbits Soft and white as her own skin was; Robbed the black bear and the otter That her bed might soft and warm be. And the children of the forest Were uplifted by such loving Of a higher type of being, Who yet throbbed with human instincts.
Brave O-kis-ko loved the maiden With a love which made him noble; With the love that self-forgetting Fills the soul with higher impulse. As the sun with constant fervor, Heat and light to earth bestowing, Seeks for no return of blessing, Feels no loss for all his giving, So O-kis-ko loved Wi-no-na, Gave her all his heart's rude homage, Felt no loss for all his giving, Loved her for the joy of loving. Scorned he all fatigue and danger Which would bring her food or pleasure; And each day brought proof of fealty, For his deeds were more than language.
For her sake he tried to fasten To his rude canoe white pinions Like the winged ships of the white man, That with her he might sail boldly Out towards the rosy sunrise, Seeking for her lost grandsire[W] For whose coming her heart saddened. Though his red companions mocked him, His endeavor pleased the maiden, And her eyes beamed kindly on him, Though no passion stirred her pulses. For sweet maiden hopes and fancies Filled her life with happy dreaming Ere her woman's heart awakened To O-kis-ko's patient waiting. Waiting for her eyes to brighten 'Neath the ardor of his glances; Waiting for her soul to quicken With the answer to his longing; Finding sweet content in silence, Glad each day to see and serve her.
Now old Chi-co, the Magician, Also loved the fair Wi-no-na, All his youth to him returning As he gazed upon her beauty. In his wigwam pelt of gray wolf, Antlers of the deer and bison, Hung to prove his deeds of valor; And he wooed the gentle maiden With his cunning tales of prowess.
She would not rebuke his boasting, Fearful lest her words offend him; For her nature kind and loving Could not scorn the vaunting Chi-co.
When he walked among the maidens, Gay with paint and decked with feathers, She would look on him with kindness That the others might not scoff him; She would smile upon his weakness, Though she did not wish to wed him.
Chi-co's love was fierce as fire Which from flame yields only ashes; Which gives not for joy of giving, But demands unceasing tribute, More and more to feed its craving. He grew eager and impatient, He would share with none her favor; All for him her eyes must brighten, Else his frown would blight her pleasure.
When the young men played or wrestled, If O-kis-ko came out victor; Or returning with the hunters He it was who bore the stag home; If with eyes abrim with pleasure Sweet Wi-no-na smiled upon him, Or with timid maiden shyness Drooped her eyes beneath his glances, Then old Chi-co's heart would wither With the fire of jealous fury, Till at length in bitter anger He determined none should win her, As from him she turned in coldness.
Wrapped in silence grim and sullen, Much he wandered near the water; With his soul he took dark counsel, Seeking for devices cruel For the torture of his rival And destruction of the maiden.
Though he rarely used his power, Chi-co was a great magician. He knew all the spells of starlight And the link 'tween moon and water; Knew the language of lost spirits And the secret of their power; Knew the magic words and symbols Whereby man may conquer nature.
Long he plotted,--much he brooded, While he gathered from the water Mussel-pearls all streaked and piedèd,[X] All with rays like purple halos.
Such pearls are the souls of Naiads Who have disobeyed the Sea-King, And in mussel-shells are prisoned For this taint of human frailty. When by man released from durance These souls, grateful for their freedom, Are his slaves, and ever render Good or evil at his bidding.
Chi-co steeped each one he gathered In a bath of mystic brewing; Told each purple, piedèd pearl-drop What the evil was he plotted. Never once his purpose wavered, Never once his fury lessened; Nursing vengeance as a guerdon While the mussel-pearls he polished.
Then a new canoe he fashioned, Safe, and strong, and deep he made it;[Y] And then sought to work his magic On the innocent Wi-no-na; Asked the maiden to go with him In his boat across the water. "Come," said he, "to Ro-a-no-ak, Where the waves are white with blossoms, Where the grapes hang ripe in clusters, Come with me and drink their juices."
And the innocent Wi-no-na Listened to his artful pleading; Went with him in search of pleasure, Glad to show him friendly feeling.
While with idle stroke they floated To the fragrant lily-blossoms, He a string of pearls gave to her, Smooth and polished, pied and purple. 'Round her snowy neck she placed them With no thought of harm or cunning; And with simple, maiden speeches Filled the time as they sped onward.
To each pearl had Chi-co chanted, Each had bathed in mystic water, Each held fast the same weird power, Till the time grew ripe for evil. On the waves they could not harm her, There the Sea-King ruled them ever; But when on the shore she landed They would work their evil mission.
On the shore of Ro-a-no-ak Chi-co sent his boat with vigor. Lithe and happy she sprang shoreward, When,--from where her foot first lightly Pressed the sand with human imprint,-- On--away--towards the thicket, Sprang _a White Doe_, fleet and graceful.
His revenge thus wrought in safety, Drifting seaward Chi-co chanted: "Go, White Doe, hide in the forest, Feed upon the sweet wild-grasses; No winged arrow e'er shall harm you, No Red Hunter e'er shall win you; Roam forever, fleet and fearless, Living free and yet in fetters."
O fair maiden! born and nurtured 'Neath the shadow of disaster! Isle of Fate was Ro-a-no-ak, In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water. Nevermore to fill with gladness The sad heart of stricken mother; Nevermore to hear the wooing Of the brave and true O-kis-ko. Gone thy charm of youthful beauty, Gone thy sway o'er savage natures; Doomed to flee before the hunter, Doomed to roam the lonely island, Doomed to bondage e'en in freedom. Is the seal of doom eternal? Hath the mussel-pearl all power? Cannot _love_ thy fetters loosen?
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote W: Governor White, of the lost colony.]
[Footnote X: See Appendix, Note _n_.]
[Footnote Y: See Appendix, Note _o_.]
IV
THE COUNTER-CHARM
Man-te-o and all his warriors Long and far sought for Wi-no-na; Sought to find the sky-eyed maiden Sent by Man-to-ac, the Mighty, To the Cro-a-to-ans to bless them, And to make them wise and happy. As a being more than mortal, As a deity they held her; And when no more seen among them Lamentations filled the island. Through Wo-ko-kon's sandy stretches, Through the bog-lands of Po-mou-ik, Even unto Das-a-mon-que-peu, Hunted they the missing maiden; If perchance some other nation, Envious of their peace and plenty, Had the maiden boldly captured, For themselves to win her power. Louder grew their lamentations When they found no trail to follow; Wilder grew their threats of vengeance 'Gainst the tribe which held her captive.
While they wailed the Pale-Face Mother, She who once was brave for love's sake, Weak from hardships new and wearing, Utterly bereft of kindred, Her heart's comfort thus torn from her, Died beneath her weight of sorrow. And a pity, soft and human, Though he knew no name to call it, Thrilled the Red Man as he laid her 'Neath the forest leaves to slumber.
But the wary, wily Chi-co Told his secret unto no one, While he listened to the stories, Strange and true, told by the hunters Of a fleet and graceful White Doe On the banks of Ro-a-no-ak. And the hunters said, no arrow Howsoever aimed could reach her; Said the deer herd round her gathered, And where e'er she led they followed.
The old women of the nation Heard the tales about this White Doe. Children they of superstition, With their faith firm in enchantment, Linked the _going_ of the maiden With the _coming_ of the White Doe. They believed in magic powers, They knew Chi-co's hopeless passion, So they shook their heads and whispered, Looked mysterious at each other, "Ho," they whispered to each other, "Chi-co is a great Magician, Chi-co should go hunt this White Doe; He is not too old for loving; Love keeps step with Youth and Courage; Old age should not make him tremble. Timid is a doe, and gentle Like a maiden,--like Wi-no-na. Oho! Oho!" and they chuckled, Casting dark looks at old Chi-co, "He," said they, "has 'witched our maiden."
When O-kis-ko heard the whispers Of the garrulous old women, Glad belief he gave unto them That the Doe on Ro-a-no-ak Was in truth the Pale-Face Maiden Wrung from him by cruel magic. He was not a gabbling boaster, He could think and act in silence; And alone he roamed the island Seeking this White Doe to capture, So that he might tame and keep her Near him to assuage his sorrow.
All in vain,--no hand could touch her. All in vain,--no hunter won her. Up the dunes of Ro-a-no-ak Still she led the herd of wild deer.
Then O-kis-ko sought We-nau-don, The Magician of Po-mou-ik.[Z] Gave him store of skins and wampum, Promised all his greed demanded, If he would restore the maiden, Break the spell which held her spirit.
In his heart We-nau-don cherished Hatred for his rival Chi-co For some boyhood's cause of anger, For defeat in public wrestling; And because of this he welcomed Now the time to vent his malice. So he promised from enchantment To release the captive maiden.
In the days of pristine nature, In the dells of Ro-a-no-ak, Bubbling from the earth's dark caverns, Was a spring of magic water. There the Naiads held their revels, There in secret met their lovers; And they laid a spell upon it Which should make true lovers happy; For to them true love was precious.
He who drank of it at midnight When the Harvest Moon was brightest, Using as a drinking-vessel Skull-bowl of his greatest rival Killed in open, honest combat, And by summer sunshine whitened, He gained youth perennial from it And the heart he wished to love him.
He who bathed within its waters, Having killed a dove while moaning, And had killed no other creature Since three crescent moons had rounded; Vowing to be kind and helpful To the sad and weary-hearted: He received the magic power To undo all spells of evil Which divided faithful lovers.
In this spring had bathed We-nau-don, And he held its secrets sacred; But a feeling ever moved him To make glad the heavy-hearted. So he showed unto O-kis-ko Where to find the magic water; With this counter-charm, he told him How to free the charmed Wi-no-na:
"In a shark's tooth, long and narrow In a closely wrought triangle, Set three mussel-pearls of purple, Smooth and polished with much rubbing. To an arrow of witch-hazel, New, and fashioned very slender, Set the shark's tooth, long and narrow, With its pearl-inlaid triangle. From the wing of living heron Pluck one feather, white and trusty; With this feather wing the arrow, That it swerve not as it flyeth. Fashioned thus with care and caution, Let no mortal eye gaze on it; Tell no mortal of your purpose; Secretly at sunset place it In the spring of magic water. Let it rest there through three sunsets, Then when sunrise gilds the tree-tops Take it dripping from the water, At the rising sun straight point it, While three times these words repeating: _Mussel-pearl arrow, to her heart go; Loosen the fetters which bind the White Doe; Bring the lost maiden back to O-kis-ko._ With this arrow hunt the White Doe, Have no timid fear of wounding; When her heart it enters boldly Chi-co's charm will melt before it."
Every word O-kis-ko heeded, Hope, once dead, now cheered his spirit. From the sea three pearls he gathered; From the thicket brought witch-hazel For the making of the arrow; From the heron's wing a feather Plucked to true its speed in flying. Patiently he cut and labored, As for love's sake man will labor; Shaped the arrow, new and slender, Set the pearls into the shark's tooth, Fastened firm the heron's feather, With a faith which mastered reason. In the magic spring he steeped it, Watching lest some eye should see it; Through three sunsets steeped and watched it; Three times o'er the charm repeated While the sunrise touched the tree-tops; Then prepared to test its power.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote Z: See Appendix, Note _s_.]
V
THE HUNT
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water Long the Summer-Glory lingered, Loath to yield its ripened beauty To the cold embrace of Winter. And the greenness of the forest Gave no sign of coming treason, Till the White Frost without warning Hung his banners from the tree-tops. Then a blush of brilliant color Decked each shrub with tinted beauty; Gold, and brown, and scarlet mingled Till no color seemed triumphant; And the Summer doomed to exile Fled before the chilling Autumn.