Chapter 3

There was among the Crees a man, whose upper lip was split, displaying the upper teeth to every one that saw him; he was not a courageous man, but feared every thing in the shape of danger; even the cry of beasts and the singing of birds, and the growl of the bear, and the song of the bittern, alarmed him. He was very fond of dogs, and possessed the power of transforming them into the shape of men, though he was without the power to make them continue in that shape for a longer period than that between sun and sun. He could make a wolf-dog step into the form of a handsome hunter; he could clothe an old cur with the skin of a very wise _powwow_. After his charm was spoken over a spaniel sneaking with his tail between his legs, you would see, in his stead, a white man doing the very same mean act of cowardice, with his back upon his enemy. A hoity-toity little she-puppy would become in a twinkling a very pretty girl; and an ugly old snarling she-wolf, a crabbed and sour old squaw. But, when the sun arose, the handsome hunter became again the wolf-dog; and the very wise powwow, the old cur; and the white man running from his enemy, the spaniel sneaking off with his tail between his legs; and the very pretty girl, the hoity-toity little she-puppy; and the crabbed and sour old squaw, the ugly and snarling old she wolf-dog. He would have been very glad to have made them retain the form of human beings, but he possessed not the power. At last, he bethought himself of the mighty Bird of Ages, who dwelt among the lofty peaks of the Mountain of Thunders. To this bird he repaired, and telling him what he had come for, he received the command to go to the Lake of the Woods, and bring thence a flat, white stone, which lay upon the southern shore of that lake. It possessed, the mighty Bird said, the power to enable almost any thing to be done which should be asked of it by men of the Cree nation; by the great ancestor of which it had been endued with its present power.

The man did as he was bidden. He went to the southern shore of the Lake of the Woods, and brought away the great white _memahoppa_, or medicine-stone, which has ever since remained with the Crees. Having placed this stone in the corner of his cabin, and addressed it as his tutelar deity, he proceeded to make the transformation of a fine, handsome, courageous, young dog into the shape of a man. When this was effected, he led the man to the memahoppa, and first praying the sacred stone to protect him against the power of change, he placed the man upon it. The charm was effective. The wonderful properties of the medicine-stone operated to keep the man a man. And this man married a woman of the Crees, and from them are the Chepewyans descended.

When the mighty Bird of Ages had finished his work of calling into existence the different creatures, he made a great arrow to be the sign of the deeds he had done; with the command that it should remain lodged in the great council-house of the Chepewyans, until time should be no more. As long as they should obey this command, they should ever be victorious over their enemies, and fortunate in all their hunting expeditions; their word should be law to all the tribes and nations, from the Frozen Sea to the land of the Shawanos, from the towns of the Iroquois to the Mountains of Thunder. But, whenever they should by carelessness lose it, they should be doomed to encounter their full share of the losses and defeats, and difficulties, and disappointments, which belong to other and less favoured tribes. They should sometimes be overcome by a force of inferior numbers; and often seek the beasts of the chace for many weary days without finding them. And, saying thus, he gave the arrow into the hands of the chief man of the Chepewyans.

For many, very many ages, the Chepewyans scrupulously remembered the injunctions of the mighty Bird respecting the arrow, and kept it treasured up in the house of the great council. While they did so, they were the most fortunate tribe on the earth, and became lords over all, conquerors in every battle, and the most fortunate hunters the world has ever known. But, at length carelessness got the better of prudence, and they suffered the arrow to be stolen; the sacrilege so enraged the Bird of Ages, that he quitted the earth, and winged his way to the place he inhabited before he descended from above. He has never been seen on earth since; but the Chepewyans, and other tribes whom this tale has reached, believe that the thunder of the hot moons is the clapping of his wings, and the lightning which accompanies it, the glancing of his eye. When a dark cloud that has no rain crosses the earth, they say he is flying between it and the sun; and they believe that the snow of the winter is the down which he strips from his breast.

IV. THE GREAT HARE.

Michabou, or the Great Hare, sat upon the face of the waters--he, and his creatures, which were all four-legged. The form of this Being was unlike that of any thing ever seen on the earth, before or since. He had four legs, or rather two legs and two arms, but he used them all as if they were legs, and he used the two arms for purposes for which legs could not be used to advantage. So he had four legs and two arms, and yet there were but four in all. Each of his creatures was unlike the others: all were known and distinguished by something which did not belong to another. Some had but one leg, some had twenty; some had no legs, but many arms; and some had neither legs nor arms. The same diversity prevailed with regard to the eyes, and mouth, and nose, and ears. Indeed they were a strange crowd of creatures, and not the least strange of all was Michabou himself, the head chief, or rather great father of all the creatures which moved over the face of the mighty waters.

Michabou was married to a woman quite as odd and deformed as himself, who bore him many children, of strange and various shapes. When the time had come for her to bring forth her one thousandth child, she had a strange dream. She dreamed that the child within her refused to see the light, till he had something firm and stable to stand upon--something which would permit him to enjoy rest undisturbed by motion. She told this dream to her husband, whom it puzzled very much. At length he made out that he was to create a world. He knew before, that the bottom of the ocean was covered with sand. So he dived down, and brought up from thence a glittering grain to serve as the germ of the world.

Having taken this grain of glittering sand into the hollow of his hand, Michabou blew upon it until it so expanded, that it became a little earth. He then set it afloat upon the waters, where it continued increasing in magnitude, until it was large enough to sustain, without sinking, the child which the wife of the great chief, after bearing about her for forty seasons, brought forth to the light of day. This child, upon being born, had the form of a man, and was placed upon the earth thus created. He was the first being which had ever borne the form of a man, and the first occupier of the earth. They gave him the name of Atoacan, which signifies the "great father, or beginner of a race." When he was born, he was larger in stature than any man that has been born since, and he increased in size, until his head towered above the tallest woods.

But Atoacan was alone, and life soon became a burthen to him. He was solitary and sad, and found no pleasure in the beautiful things which were daily, hourly, springing up on the earth. He saw the flowers bloom, and scent the air, but they afforded no pleasure to his eyes, no refreshment to his soul. Sweet fruits were bending the bushes to the earth, or clustering on the boughs, but they were tasteless; for it was in his nature to enjoy nothing, prize nothing, unless participated in by another--the counterpart of himself. So he put clay upon his head, and cried loud to his father, the Great Hare, for a companion. Michabou, perceiving that he and his strange-shaped creatures would be supplanted in power by the son whom he had begotten, the new creature _man_, had ascended to the heavens: he heard the prayer of his son, and listened to it.

There was among the people of the skies a beautiful maiden, whose name was Atahensic. She was fairest of all the daughters of the air, beautiful as the sun, mild as the moon, and sportive as the stars. Michabou asked her if she would descend to the earth, and become the companion and wife of his son; and she, delighted as women always are, at the prospect of a journey, no matter whither, consented. So Michabou made a long string of the sinews and tendons of the various land animals, and by this string he lowered Atahensic into the arms of his delighted son.

The man, no longer solitary, but furnished with the being, intended by the constitution of nature and the Great Master of all for the companion and comfort of his life, set about appropriating to his use the various things he saw. He was no longer solitary, but met the difficulties which spring up in the path of human life, and the labours which he is compelled to bestow upon the procuring of food, with cheerfulness and alacrity. He now went in the morning to the forest glade to hunt the red deer, and his toils were not thought of, because, when they were ended, when the woods, made dark by the coming shades of night, rang shrill with the lay of the fire-bird, and his shafts were all spent, he could bear home the spoils they had won, and be rejoiced by the smiles of his companion and wife.

Atahensic bore her husband two children, a son and a daughter. These two married, and built themselves a lodge far from their parents. They had many children, but Michabou, who came down now and then, to see how things were going on, observing the slow rate at which the world was peopling, determined to adopt another plan. So he told Atoacan that, upon the death of every animal, he must skin it. He must burn the skin, drop a drop of his own blood upon the carcase, and cover it up carefully with dry leaves from the forest trees. Upon the fourth day after he had covered it with leaves, if he would remove the leaves, he would find beneath them a sleeping infant, which, upon waking, would utter a cry of surprise, at finding itself no longer a beast but a human being. Each of these beings would possess the power to assist in the like multiplication of the species, but be denied other power of procreation. Having thus left directions for the speedy peopling of the world, Michabou again ascended to the heavens, which he has not left since.

Atoacan and his son carefully obeyed the commands which had been laid upon them, and of every beast or four-footed creature that died he formed a human being. These human beings were gifted with the qualities and passions which belonged to them in life: these they have retained, and thence it is that, at this day, the dispositions of men are so various. We see one crafty and subtle--he has the blood of the fox; another cruel, malicious, blood-thirsty--he is descended from the wolf. The red skin is courageous--the horse was his father; the white man is a coward--his mother was a sheep. One is full of sprightliness and agility--he is of the blood of the mountain-cat; another is clumsy--the musk-ox was his father. Strange and various are the dispositions which men have--cunning, subtle, sly, wise, brave, prudent, careless, cowardly, peaceable, blood-thirsty. These are qualities derived from the beasts, which died as beasts, and became men and the ancestors of the tribes living on the earth.

V. THE SIX NANTICOKES.

Once upon a time, there was a very bright and sunny day on the earth, and, upon this day so bright and sunny, a strange thing happened. It was in the country inhabited by the tribe of Nanticokes, and upon the borders of the Great Lake. It was in the morning of the day, and the moon was the moon in which the shad, leaving the waters which are salt, make their journey to those which are fresh. Beautiful was the day; the salt and bitter waters lay as motionless as a little child sleeping on the bosom of its mother. The winds were hushed in the caverns of the earth, and the beams of the sun fell gladdening and refreshing every thing beneath them. They shone upon field and forest, hill and valley; upon bird and beast, and fish and reptile, and many other things, beautiful or ugly, curious or strange; but they fell not upon man, for he was not. The tall and erect form, which commands obedience from all other creatures, was not then seen walking among the glades of the forest, with the firm step and haughty eye which distinguishes him. Beasts were many, birds were many, fishes were many, but of men, the lords of all, there were none.

Before the sun descended behind the mountains of the West, he shone upon man also. Six Indians, the first men that were ever on earth, and the ancestors of the tribe of Nanticokes, all at once, they knew not how, nor by what means, found themselves sitting upon the same shore, upon the verge of the ocean. Whether they were created on the spot, or came from some other place beyond the seas; whether they had swum up from the waters, or crawled out of the mud, or bounded from the depths of the forest, or alighted from the regions of the air, and were changed into men, receiving a gift to forget their former state, they knew not, or if they dropped from the skies, and forgot whence they came through dizziness and the violence of the fall. But this they knew, that they found themselves sitting on the shores of the Great Lake, in the country now inhabited by the Nanticokes, on the latter part of a warm and pleasant day, in the moon in which the shad leave the waters which are salt, and make their journey to those which are fresh. And they knew that there were six of them, and this was all they knew.

These six Indians were all men; there was not amongst them, nor on the earth, a single woman. The song-sparrow, and the mocking-bird, and the dove, and the crested wren, and the spotted lynx, and the gorgeous woodpecker, and the fish with shining scales, and all the other beautiful creatures that have since lived, and now live, were then upon the earth, even in greater numbers, and possessed of greater beauty than now; but woman, more beautiful than any, the most glorious thing that walks the earth, lived not then. It was soon that these Indians found out their wants, and began to provide themselves with food and clothing by means of hunting. They built themselves canoes, and made them bows and arrows, wherewith they took the spoils of land and water; and they set springes for birds, and traps for those creatures which live alike on the land and water. And they cultivated the various plants which they found growing spontaneously--corn, and tobacco, and roots; and gathered ripe grapes, and abundance of delicious berries. They lived well enough, and had they been wise would have sought no further; but they took it into their heads, that they could not live without women. So, led by the gloomy and solitary feeling of a vacant heart, they left the cabins which they had built, and wandered forth in search of the coveted objects. That their chance of success might be greater, they agreed to separate, and each to travel on different paths, and so they parted. One went towards the clime of the snows, another towards the land of the summer winds, the third sought the distant east, the fourth bent his steps towards the mountains of the setting sun, the fifth descended into the bowels of the earth, and the sixth climbed a sunbeam. Before they separated, they agreed that those who were living when the Moon of Grapes again came round, should repair to the same great tree in the shade of which they were then sitting, and there, while the pipe of friendship was passing around, recount their adventures.

The Moon of Grapes again came round, and found, upon one of its pleasantest days, these six Nanticokes sitting beneath the great tree, on the bank of the river which gives its name to the tribe. With them sate six beautiful women, and laughing, and sporting, and rolling about on the green and grassy sod at their feet, lay six beautiful children. The six Indians and their wives appeared very happy, and while they passed the pipe about, laughed and talked very loud and joyfully, and were very, very merry, as though they had been drinking something much stronger than water. At last, one of them, whose name was Sinipuxent, rose and said:

Brothers! it was in the Moon of Grapes of the last year, that we found ourselves sitting on the shore of the Great Lake, endued with the faculties that we now exercise. It was in the Moon of Grapes, that we departed in quest of the beloved beings who are now the light of our eyes. And we agreed, that those who were living when the next Grape-Moon came round should repair to the same great tree, beneath whose shade we then sate, and there, while the pipe of friendship was passing round, we should relate what had befallen us. The Great Spirit has permitted our return to that spot, and the beautiful beings, whom we have brought with us from countries so far apart, are proofs that adventures have befallen us, which are worth recounting. Brothers, you shall hear of what befel Sinipuxent, who left you to climb the sunbeam.

When he parted from his five brothers, he climbed a sunbeam for many days, until he came to the land where the glorious luminary of the earth, the Sun, takes his refreshment of sleep and rest during the dark hours. It was in the morning of the day, and the great light of the world had risen from his couch, and set out upon his journey, but his wife and his children were all, save one, stretched out in profound sleep. That one, the most beautiful of all creatures--look at her, and say if she is not!--sat bathing her lovely cheeks and stately neck in the morning dew, and brushing off the stray drops with the white lily of the lake. Her little feet were carelessly thrust into the clear stream gliding by her, beneath which they glittered like the sparkling sands washed from the mountains into the river of the Nanticokes. Her long bright hair, coloured by the beams of her father, the Sun, lay floating over her naked shoulders and bosom, more beautiful--but ye behold her. Beautiful creature! she saw not the Nanticoke till he stood at her side. When she raised her head, and found a stranger standing near her, she would have fled, but he detained her gently with these words:

"Beautiful creature! what is it thou fearest? I am not he that would harm thee. On the contrary, I would encounter any risk, brave any peril, rather than harm one of the glossy hairs that is straying over thy beautiful brow. My heart tells me, gentle creature, that thou art the object for which my soul hath panted, ever since I first knew that I was. I love thee, deeply and fervently, and wish thee to be mine. I ask thee to leave the clime of thy father, and go with me to the pleasant land and beautiful river of the Nanticokes. Though its skies be not so bright as those in which thou wert born, yet are they mellower. And the waters of the land are clear, cool, and sweet, and the shades are refreshing. The vines are bending to the earth with rich ripe grapes, berries are loading every bush, and the earth is covered with flowers. Thou shalt become my companion in the cabin I have built me beside the Nanticoke; and even as that river, when unvexed by the swell of rains, glides along in the months of summer, so shall our lives pass away. Thou shalt be the wife of my bosom, and together will we live, till we are called to the land revealed to us by our dreams as the land of souls."

The lovely maiden heard the words of the Nanticoke, and answered that she knew not well what she should say. She knew not where the land of the Nanticokes lay, nor did she know who was he that spoke to her. But she timidly confessed that she loved him, and would become the wife of his bosom, if the consent of her father and mother could be obtained. So he asked the mother, who gave her consent at once, if that of her husband could be procured.

When the Sun came home at night, his wife said to him, "One of the six Indians that dropped from the North Star, on the shores of the Great Lake in the Frog-Moon, has come hither, and demanded our daughter Atahensic in marriage. He appears to be a bold and handsome youth, and our daughter loves him."

"But he shall not have her," answered the fiery father; "the blood of the Sun shall not mingle with the blood of the beings of the earth."

Then he called the Nanticoke to him, and spoke to him thus: "Thou canst not have my daughter--thy blood cannot mingle with mine.--Depart."

The Nanticoke, who, like all the others of that tribe, was brave and fearless, but prudent, held his peace, but departed not. When the Sun was asleep he wooed the maiden; when he was awake, and his eyes were peering into every spot however obscure, and every dingle however dark, he hid himself where even those rays could not penetrate. And often was the beautiful maiden of his love prevailed upon to hide herself with him. But he had suffered himself to forget the consequences of a mutual and unrestrained love. The beautiful Atahensic gave evidence that she should in due time become a mother. The quick-eyed father soon discovered what had happened, and heard the whole from the lips of his weeping daughter. Nothing could equal the rage of the mighty king of the skies, when he learned the disgrace inflicted upon his family. In the frenzy of the moment, he seized both the daughter and her lover, and hurled them from the highest part of the skies to the region where the land of the Nanticokes lay. But the kind mother protected both from the consequences of the fall, and the earth, by her command, received them unhurt upon her lap. Brothers, I am that Nanticoke, and the beautiful Atahensic is the woman by my side, and the child at her feet is the child of our love. I have no more to say.

* * * * *

When the first Nanticoke had finished his story, the second, whose name was Conestogo, rose, and thus addressed his brothers:

Listen, said he, and you shall hear of what befel Conestogo, who left you to travel into the bowels of the earth.

When he parted from his five brothers, he went to the deep cavern which lies among the mountains west of the river of the Nanticokes, and into this cavern he entered at the time of nightfall. After having groped his way for many days through deep darkness, over rocks and many other obstructions, living on the dried meat he had taken with him, all at once, upon passing through a small door or opening, he came to a great chamber, vaulted like the rooms which are unfolded to our eyes, when we enter those great houses in the City of the Rock, where men dressed in glittering robes, and little boys clothed in white, call upon the Great Spirit, and sing loud songs to his praise. Around the sides of this great room were tall pillars, which looked liked icicles, and glittered like them when they are visited by the beams of the sun. Over-head was a vast field of ice, of many different colours, green, red, white, yellow; the reflection of which on the floor of the mighty building occasioned a strange blending of rays. Beautiful, wonderful, was the appearance of this room, and of all within it.