Chapter 14

So saying, he drew forth from his basket of amulets the skin of a mountain cat, in which was a medicine, compounded of those powerful substances which nature furnishes, to enable men to acquire command over their own and the inferior species. There were the vine which never bore fruit, the dry cones of the pine, steeped in the dew that drops from the leaves of the mountain-laurel, the claws of the tiger, the teeth of the alligator, the thighbone of the tortoise, and the ribs of the snail, reduced to a powder, and mixed up with water dropped from the shell of the butternut, through the ochre of war. The wise master of the spell had drawn from field, and forest, earth, air, and water, from beast and bird, and fish and reptile, and insect and tree, and flower and fruit, all the various properties which have an agency in subduing things to the will of him, to whom those properties have been taught. From these he had compounded a medicine, the mighty power of which was unknown even to himself. Placing this amulet in the hands of the wondering youth, he bade him remember to repeat aloud the following words, and in the following manner, should he deem there was occasion for its use. "I am lost! I am lost! save me! save me! In the name of the seven men that were bewildered in a foggy morning, and cooked for the breakfast of the Kind Old Kings, I call upon thee, Maiden in Green, to protect me from the like fate." The youthful lover received the sacred amulet, with all the reverence which it ought to inspire, and, before the great star of day had sunk to sleep behind the hills of the west, he had slung his bow and quiver to his shoulder, and taken up the line of his march to the fated valley.

Travelling onward with great expedition, he came near the close of the next day to the entrance of the eventful spot. He saw the high mountains covered with mossy rocks, and tall cedars, and pines, and beheld the "lofty forms, whose heads stretched far into the sky," and heard the sounds which proceeded from their lips, the soft whispers of love, the loud tones of strife, or the merry ones of joy, laughing and weeping, wooing and strife, signs that they were possessed of the various passions and emotions which find a place in the breasts of mortals. Between these mountains lay the deep valley spoken of, but what it was which glittered and glistened in it, he knew not. Whatever it was, it shone with a splendour which eclipsed the meridian beams of the sun. The whole space between the two mountains seemed a glare of light, which dazzled even more than the fiercest glare of noon in the Month of Thunder. What still more astonished and perplexed the youth was, that the light seemed of various colours, ever changing, never for a moment wearing the same appearance. Now it wore the hue of the maple leaf in autumn, now of the tuft of the blue heron--now it was purple, now green, now yellow, and then it seemed a mixture of them all, a blending of all the colours ever beheld into one. Astonished and dismayed, but still determined to win the hand of the beautiful Winona or perish, the Guard of the Red Arrows undauntedly entered the valley, and approached the scene of wondrous splendour. Moving with great difficulty, for the entrance was overrun with briars and many other vicious impediments, he came all at once to a clear field, and beheld what had so enchanted and spell-bound at a distance--what so filled with horror now it was nearer beheld. He saw the earth covered with rattlesnakes of a more enormous size than any ever beheld by man, ay, beyond what even his imagination had pictured in his most restless and diseased hours of sleep. The bodies of many of them were larger than the trunks of the largest forest trees, and so unwieldy that, when they would turn round, they were compelled to take a circle almost as wide as their length. But bountiful nature, which always compensates for a defect or disadvantage by adding an excellence, made up for the heavy motion of their bodies by bestowing upon them the power of irresistible fascination. She gave to them an eye--to each a single eye--placing it in the centre of their foreheads, possessing the power to draw to them every living creature. It was this eye which emitted the wonderful light which had so dazzled the Muscogulgee at a distance, and still more dazzled now that he was within reach of the horrid fascination. These eyes were of every possible colour, and the light they sent forth was as various as the colour of the eyes. Nor could the colour of any one of those eyes be set down as positively this or that, for each moment was it changing. Now the green eye became blue as the midnight sky--look again, it was yellow as the fallen leaf; a fourth time, the scarlet hue was entering upon one side, while the yellow was retreating from the other, leaving the middle a strange combination of both. Long might the Muscogulgee have gazed on the brilliant, but terrible scene--a field, stretching farther than the eye could reach, and all covered with immense snakes, hissing with a sound loud as the roar of the tempest, shaking their rattles with a noise like thunder, the while their eyes emitted the light which he shuddered to look at, and yet, such was their power of fascination, he was unable to turn from--long, I repeat, might he have gazed on the scene, but he found himself irresistibly impelled to enter the field of light. His feet were irresistibly drawn forward, his mouth was opened to deprecate the anger of the Great Being, his hands were upraised at what he knew must be instant destruction, for already were their dreadful jaws expanded, and their hideous tongues, red as burning coals, twinkling with a motion so quick that it seemed but the soul of a vapour, when he bethought himself of the charm given to him by the wise priest, and drew it forth. Bowing, as he was bidden, to the spirit of storms, who rules the east, to the kind genius of the south, to the master of the west wind, and to the North Star, which is the best friend of hunters and bewildered men, he thrice called upon the Great Spirit, crying in a loud voice, "I am lost! I am lost! save me! save me! In the name of the seven men who were bewildered in a foggy morning, and cooked for the breakfast of the Kind Old Kings, I call upon thee, Maiden in Green, to protect me from a like fate." Is my brother prepared to hear what was the effect produced by these words? Does he wish to know if that shrill cry called up a being unable to protect him, or if the rattles were stilled, and the jaws were closed, and if darkness was imparted to those glittering eyes, and silence to those wicked tongues? Listen.

There came to the ears of the Muscogulgee youth, from the summit of the Northern mountains, a sound of distant thunder, which in a moment was succeeded by the sweetest song that ever was breathed upon mortal ears. He could not distinguish all the words, but he heard enough to teach him that it was a song of supplication to the Great Spirit for a "brave and good Muscogulgee hunter, about to be caught in the fangs of the Kind Old Kings." The moment the thunder and the song were heard, the rattles were still, the bright eyes sent forth no more light, and the fiery tongues retreated within the closed and recumbent jaws. Of all that body of hideous reptiles not one seemed to be imbued with breath. Nearer and nearer came the song, and as it came the hunter fancied that it was the music of a being moving level with the earth, if not beneath its surface. He was right. Soon, in the grass at his feet, appeared a little snake scarcely thicker than his little finger, and not longer than the space between his hand and his shoulder. The colours of this little reptile were as various and beautiful as those of the eyes of the Kind Old Kings, but these were fixed and permanent, those as I have said changeable and changing as a woman's mind. The head was green, the sides were yellow, the belly white, down its back ran two red stripes, and there were rings of bright crimson around its tail. Elevating its head as it drew near, it remained stationary and silent for a moment, and then addressed the Muscogulgee in these words:--

"I am the spirit raised by the potent _medicine_ of the Cherokee priest; and, invoked by thy call, I have hastened hither at thy cry of distress, to tell thee thou art not _lost_. Though thou didst a foolish thing to come to this valley of death, and he, at whose bidding the thing was undertaken, a wicked one in sending thee, yet thou shalt not die this time. I am the Maiden in Green, the ruling Spirit of both mountain and valley, having power over even the Bright Old Inhabitants, and they shall not harm thee. Thou art, if I remember right, commanded, as the price of the beautiful daughter of the Cherokee _powwow_, to carry to him a tooth from the jaw of a living King and a rattle from his tail, and an eye from his skull; and to report of sundry things not necessary to be named. Thou shalt have my aid to accomplish these things."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOTE.

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

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

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

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

THE LEGEND OF MOSHUP.

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

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

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

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