Chapter 9

Scarcely had the song of the priest ceased, when the voice of the Wahconda was heard sounding as sweetly as the notes of the mocking-bird rejoicing for the return of her mate, whom she chides for his long absence. The chiefs and warriors understood not the words he spoke, but they were heard by the priest, who repeated them to the awe-struck crowd. The Wahconda bade them gather up the bones of their fathers, burn them, and take the ashes, with which, and their women and children, and every thing they held valuable, they were to depart. They were to repair to the great Memahoppa, or Medicine Stone, which stood in the midst of a prairie, many suns beyond their hunting-grounds; and to this stone they were to be directed by a mighty wise man, of very low stature and of cross and passionate disposition, wearing a particoloured robe, and carrying a bag of rattles. Upon this memahoppa they would find further directions for their march engraved. Having pointed out their path, he gave them his blessing for brave men and expert horse-stealers, and his parting voice was as sweet as the voice of a maiden, who has died from ill-requited affection, and revisits the shades of earth in the form of a little white dove.

The Lenapes, having obeyed the orders of the Wahconda, set out on their march. The moment that their knapsacks were slung to their shoulders, and their journey made certain, the spirits of their departed friends struck up their glorious dance[A], far away over the great lakes, the favourite regions of the spirits of winds and tempests. The northern sky became lit all over with an effulgence brighter than that which glimmers in the Path of the Master of Life[B]. It was our departed friends who were showing their joy at the contemplated removal of our nation to the pleasant shades of the Lenape wihittuck, and the rich and beautiful lands which fringe its border.

[Footnote A: Northern lights, _aurora borealis_.]

[Footnote B: The milky way.]

The Lenapes had not travelled very far, when they heard in the grass near them a loud shaking, which sounded like the rattling of nuts in a dry gourd, and soon they saw a little head with open jaws, and a tongue moving quicker than the sparkle of the fire-fly, peering out of the low grass. The Lenapes knew not what it was, but they saw that it assumed a menacing posture: so one went forward with his raised war-club to dispatch it. When he drew near, the unknown creature threw itself into the form which our white brother gives to his whip; the motion of his tail became so rapid, that it seemed but the soul of a vapour; his body swelled through excessive rage, till it became four times its former size, rising and falling like the Longknife's wind medicine[A]; his beautiful skin became speckled and rough, his head and neck flattened, his cheeks swollen with ungovernable anger, his lips drawn up, showing his dreadful fangs, his eyes red as burning coals, and his forked tongue of the colour of the hottest flame.

[Footnote A: The name given by the Indians to the bellows.]

"Back, back," said he, "I am very passionate; I shall bite you. If you value your safety, go back before I make you very sorry that you have bit your thumb at me. Or, if you are really mad, let me know, that I may pity you, and not harm you."

Shamonekusse drew back with astonishment, and called the priest to come and talk with the strange creature. The priest, having made a short petition to his guardian Okki, which was the stuffed skin of a horned owl, came forward, and demanded of the strange creature, "Who are you?"

"I am," answered he, "the partisan leader of the rattlesnakes. I am the 'mighty wise man of very low stature, and of cross and passionate disposition, wearing a particoloured robe, and carrying a bag of rattles,' spoken of by the Great Wahconda, as he who was ordered to guide the Lenapes to the River of Fish."

"We are the Lenapes," answered the priest.

"Then you are the men I expected and was looking for," answered the chief of the rattlesnakes. "But why were you about to declare war against me--me, who alone possess, under the Wahconda, the means of conducting you in safety to the end of your journey? You are too brave and valiant, too hasty and choleric, Lenapes; it will be good for you to lose some of your blood to make you tamer."

"We are very sorry," answered the priest, perceiving the wisdom of conciliating the old fellow, "that the war-club was raised, and the hatchet raked up. It is our wish that the hatchet shall be buried again, and that there shall be a clear sky between us. Shall it be so, rattlesnake?"

"The hatchet shall be buried again, and there shall be a clear sky between us," answered the snake. "Yet, a little bird tells me that a black cloud shall arise, and that the hatchet may as well be put under the bedstead[A], whence it may be easily drawn forth. The rattlesnakes and the Lenapes, ere many suns shall pass, will be enemies, and each attempt the extermination of the other."

[Footnote A: Put the hatchet under the bedstead, an Indian figure, signifying that peace will not last long.]

"Oh, we will not talk of that now," answered the priest; "we will put all thoughts of the evil day afar off. We will smoke with you, snake." So the Lenapes smoked with their new acquaintance; a firm league of peace was made between the two nations, and they became very good friends. They chatted for a long time of various matters, of the wars which the rattlesnakes had waged against the black snakes, the copperheads, the hornsnakes, and other warlike tribes of snakes. Again they moved on, the rattlesnake leading the way, till, much fatigued, their mocassins torn, and their wives cross, they spread their tents, and a night's encampment took place[A]. Again their course was onward, and again they encamped for another night. Spies were sent to search out the land, while the Lenapes travelled after at their leisure. At length the cunning old reptile, who still continued to guide them, declared that he saw, in the dry grass, foot-prints of men who were before them. While they halted, one went forward to reconnoitre. Soon he returned, and told our people that there was a band of Indians encamped in the path of the Lenapes, at a little distance from us. Our hot-blooded young warriors were for attacking them, but the wise old snake said, No. After offering many good reasons why peace should, at all times, be preferred to war, he advised, that a belt of wampum should be sent, and a league formed with them. The belt of wampum is delivered to a brave young warrior, Mottschujinga, or the Little Grizzly Bear. This redoubted chief clothes himself in his best robe; he puts on his richest leggings; he fastens to his war-pipe the _trotters_ of the fawn, and the cock-spurs of the wild turkey; he places in his scalp-lock the wing of the red-bird, the crest of the bittern, and the tail feathers of the pole-pecker. He paints one side of his face, to show that he can smoke in the war-pipe, which hangs in his belt, as gracefully and willingly as in the pipe of peace he carries in his hand, and as a fearless warrior, that his thoughts are quite as much of war as peace.

[Footnote A: A night's encampment is a halt of one year at a place.]

As he approaches the camp of the strange people, he puts on his most martial airs, and commences his song. He sings the lofty and warlike character of his nation, who never retreated from a foe, nor quailed before the stern glance of warriors; who can fast for seven suns, and, on the eighth, tire out the deer in his flight. He sings, that his fathers have been conquerors of all the tribes who roam between the mountains and the distant sea. He sings, that the maidens of his nation have eyes and feet like the antelope, that their songs are sweeter than the melodies of the song-sparrow, and their motions more graceful than the motions of a young willow, bowed by the wind. He sings, that the men of his tribe will smoke in the pipe of peace with the strange warriors, or they will throw a war-club into the council-house, as best suits them. The Lenapes are neither women nor deer, they are not suing for peace, but they ask themselves why the great storm of war should arise, and the sky be overcast with the blustering clouds of tumult and quarrel. The Lenapes wish to go to the land of the rising sun; why should their path be shut up? their course is over a great river; why should it be made red with the blood of either nation? As he concluded his song, he held up the pipe of peace, the bowl of which was of red marble, the stem of which was of alder curiously carved, painted, and adorned with beautiful feathers. This, my brother must know is the symbol of peace among all the tribes of the wilderness.

A Brave, painted for war, met the messenger from the Lenape camp, and, after he had given his blanket to the winds, conducted him to the cabin of the assembled chiefs of his nation, not, however, before he had received the curses of the old women, and had been called "a wrinkled old man with a hairy chin and a flat nose."

Then meat was placed before the Lenape messenger. When he had satisfied his hunger, he pulled off his mocassins[A], and presented the pipe to the Brave who had been his conductor, who, filling it with tobacco and sweet herbs, handed it to him again. Then the youngest chief present took a coal from the fire, which flamed high in the centre of the council-cabin, and placed it on the beloved herb, which was made to smoke high. Mottschujinga then turned the stem of the pipe towards the field of the stars, to supplicate the aid of the Great Spirit, and then towards the bosom of his great mother, the earth, that the Evil Spirits might be appeased; now holding it horizontally, he moved round till he had made a circle, whereby he intimated that he sought to gain the protection of the spirits who sit on the clouds, and move in the winds of the air, of those who dwell in the deep and fearful glens and caverns, in the hollows of old and decayed oaks, on the summits of inaccessible hills, and within the limits of the great council-fire[B] of Michabou[C]. Having secured the aid of those invisible beings, in whose power it is to blow away the smoke of the pipe of peace, so that men shall speak from their lips only, and not from their hearts, and in consequence their promises shall be but as the song of a bird that has flown over, Mottschujinga presented his pipe to the great chief of the strangers, who, before he would smoke in it, arose and made a speech.

[Footnote A: The Shoshonees, a tribe living west of the Rocky Mountains, to indicate the sincerity of their professions, pull off their mocassins before they smoke in the pipe of peace, an action which imprecates on themselves the misery of going barefoot for ever, if they are faithless to their words.]

[Footnote B: "Great council fire" means all the land or territory possessed by the nation.]

[Footnote C: Michabou is generally the Indian Neptune: sometimes, however, they mean by this title the Great Spirit.]

"Our tribe," said the chief, "are called Mengwe. We too have come from a distant country, and we also are bound to the land of the rising sun. We will smoke in the Lenape's pipe, and bury the war-club very deep; we will assist to make the Lenapes very strong, and will never suffer the grass to grow in our war-path when the Lenapes are assailed by enemies. We will draw out the thorns from your feet, oil your stiffened limbs, and wipe your bodies with soft down. We will lift each other up from this place, and the burthen shall be set down at each other's dwelling-place. And the peace we make shall last as long as the sun shall shine, or the rivers flow. And this is all I have to say."

So a league was made, though no war had been, and the two nations freely intermingled. Each man unclosed his hand to his neighbour, the Lenape warrior took the Mengwe maiden to his tent, and her brother had a woman of the former nation to roast his buffalo-hump, and boil his corn.

And now the spies, who had been sent forward for the purpose of reconnoitring, returned. They had seen many things so strange, that when they reported them, our people half-believed them to be dreams, and for a while regarded them but as the songs of birds. They told, that they had found the further bank of the River of Fish inhabited by a very powerful people, who dwelt in great villages, surrounded by high walls. They were very tall--so tall that the head of the tallest Lenape could not reach their arms, and their women were of higher stature and heavier limbs than the loftiest and largest man in the confederate nations. They were called the Allegewi, and were men delighting in red and black paint, and the shrill war-whoop, and the strife of the spear. Such was the relation made by the spies to their countrymen.

This report of the spies increased the fears and dissatisfaction of the Lenapes to such a height, that part agreed to remain in the lands in which they then were, and not to attempt to cross the river occupied by so many hostile warriors. But the greater part declared that they were men, and rather than turn back from a foe, however strong, or leave a battle-field without a blow or a war-whoop, they would march to certain death, and leave their bones in a hostile camp. So one band, the strongest of the Lenapes, remained beyond the Mississippi, while the others prepared to encounter the nations who were the present lords of the soil. But, ere they committed their fortunes to battle, they fasted, and mortified their flesh, to gain the favour of the being who presides over war, and their priests were consulted to learn whether he would be propitious to them. "Shall we conquer?" "Shall we overcome?" was eagerly asked. The priests replied, "The Lenapes shall overcome, when they have obtained the great war medicine." They asked what it was; the priests replied, "It shall be made known to you on the morrow." The morrow came, and the priests made known the great war medicine, whose properties brought certain victory to those possessed of it. In old times, the wild cat had devoured their people; they set a trap for him and caught him in it, burned his bones, and preserved the ashes. These ashes had been carefully kept by the priests, and they now brought them forth. The great old snake, the father of strife, was in the water; the old men gathered together and sang, and he shewed himself; they sang again, and he showed himself a little further out of the water; the third time he showed his horns. They were enabled to cut off one of the horns. He showed himself a fourth time, and they cut off the other horn. A piece of these horns, and the ashes of the bones of the wild cat compounded, was the great war medicine of our nation. Prepared with a medicine of such potency, the confederated nations moved towards the land of reported giants. When they had arrived on the banks of the Mississippi, they sent a message to the Allegewi, to request permission to settle themselves in their neighbourhood. That haughty people refused the request, but they gave them leave to pass through their country, and seek a settlement farther towards the land of the rising sun. The Lenapes accordingly began to cross the Mississippi, when the Allegewi, seeing that their bands were very numerous, outnumbering the birds on the trees or the fish in the waters, made a furious attack upon those who had crossed, threatening all with destruction, if they dared to persist in coming to their side of the river. Fired at the treachery of these people, and maddened with the loss of their brothers in arms, the Lenapes retired to the thick covert to consult on what was best to be done. It was deliberated in council, whether it was better to retreat in the best manner they could, or put forth their utmost strength, and let the enemy see they were not cowards, but men--brave men, who would not suffer themselves to be driven into the woods, before they had tested the strength of the enemy, and seen the power of their arms in hurling the spear, and striking with the war-club, and the truth of their eye in levelling the bow. It was determined, that brave men never turned back, that the Lenape were brave men, and must steep their mocassins in the blood of their enemies. The Mengwe, who till now had only looked on while our nation had done the fighting, offered to join our warriors, if, when the country was conquered, they should be allowed to share it with us. The proposal pleased our councillors, and the two nations renewed the faith of the calumet, resolved to conquer or die. The next sun was fixed on to attack the Allegewi in their intrenchments.

It was night; the bands of the confederate nations were sleeping in their cabins, dreaming dreams of victory and glory, when Wangewaha, or the Hard Heart, sleeping in his tent, was aroused by the tread of a light foot on the earth at his side, and the music of a voice sweeter than that of the linnet or the thrush. Looking up he saw, by the beams of the moon, a tall and beautiful woman, straight as a hickory, and graceful as a young antelope. She wore over her shoulders a cloak made of the tender bark of the mulberry, interlaced with the white feathers of the swan, and the gay plumage of the snake bird and the painted vulture. Wangewaha started from his sleep, for he knew her to be the beautiful maiden whom he had seen in his dream, ere he quitted the land of his father's bones--the shape tall and erect, the eye black and sparkling, the foot small and swift, the teeth white and even, the glossy dark hair, and the small plump hand. He spoke to the beautiful stranger in mild accents, and the tones of her reply were as sweet as the breathings of a babe rocked to rest on the bough of a tree. He asked her who she was, and she replied she was a maiden from the camp of the Allegewi. "Why," he demanded, "had she come hither? Why had one so young and fair adventured her person in a hostile camp, in the dark hours of night, among fierce warriors, who had sworn the destruction of her nation?"

"I have come hither," replied the beautiful creature, "because I would escape the persecutions of a young warrior, the favourite of my father, who solicits me to become his wife. I love him not, I have told him so, yet he wishes to have me, while my heart revolts at the thought of becoming the companion of one, who boasts only the merit of being able to slay men weaker than himself; and of showing cheeks painted for war, and hands red with blood."

The Hard Heart, who felt not towards beautiful women the feeling which his name intimates, spoke to her words of consolation, and bade her go sleep with his sister, whom he called to him from another part of the cabin. But the passion of love arose in the warrior's heart, and he determined that, if the Great Spirit should give him victory in the approaching contest, the beautiful maiden should become his wife.

The sun of the next morning shone on fields of slaughter and prodigies of valour. The confederated nations met the giant people; a great battle was fought, and many, very many, warriors fell. With the potent war-medicine of the Lenapes, borne by a priest, the confederates attacked their enemies, and were victors. The beaten and discomfited Allegewi retreated within the high banks which surrounded their villages and great towns, and there awaited the assault of our brave and fearless warriors. They were attacked, and numbers, greater than the forest leaves, fell in the first engagement. None were spared; the man who asked for quarter sooner received the arrow in his bosom--sooner felt the thrust of the spear, than he who was too brave to beg the poor boon of a few days longer stay on a cold and bleak earth, and preferred going hence without dishonour. Again, and again, were the Lenapes victorious. Beaten in many battles, and finding that complete extirpation awaited them, if they longer delayed flight, the Allegewi loaded their canoes with their wives and children, and took their course adown the broad bosom of the Mississippi. Never more were they or their descendants seen upon the lands where the Lenapes found them. Of all the countless throngs of the Allegewi, the beautiful maiden alone remained in our tents, and she was soon after taken to sleep in the bosom of Wangewaha.

"And now," said the chief of the rattlesnakes, "what do you propose to give me for my services? I have been a faithful and true guide, and have brought you safe through many dangers, to a land of plenty and glory. I deserve a recompense, surely."

"You do," answered the Hard Heart; "suppose we give you a pair of mocassins."

"Ha, ha! don't mention the thing again; it will throw me into a rage," answered the old fellow, beginning to flatten and swell at the joke. "But if you come to giving mocassins, they must be very many, for you know I have many legs. Suppose you give me a Lenape maiden to wife."

"Lenape maiden to wife! What will you do with a Lenape wife? Say, snake, what would be the cross between a rattlesnake and a Lenape?"

"Don't name the thing again, for I am very passionate," cried the old snake. "I shall bite. What would be the cross, say you? Why, the cleverest possible cross--the cross between a wise and valiant snake, and a beautiful woman, for a beautiful woman she will be, if I have the choosing of her. But, I demand as a recompense for my services, that I be allowed to unite myself in marriage with a woman of your nation. So set about it at once, for I am very hasty in these matters, and besides, wish to return to my nation, who have been for a long time without a leader."

Upon receiving this strange proposition, the Lenape chief to whom it was addressed called together the counsellors of the nation, and debated with them whether the request should be acceded to. Many were the arguments which were used for and against, but, at length, they came to the determination, that the wise old rattlesnake should have his choice of the Lenape maidens for a wife. The old fellow heard the acceptance of his proposal with much joy, for, as he said, he was of a very impatient temper, and in proportion as he bore crosses with a total want of patience, was his excessive joy, when he succeeded in his views and wishes. So the maidens were brought out, and he made choice of a beautiful girl, who had not seen the flowers bloom more than fifteen times. A tear trembled in the dark eye of this lovely maiden for a moment, at the thought of the strange and unequal match she was about to contract. But she was dazzled, as all women are, by the promised glory of becoming the bride of the great chief of a nation, and she wiped away the tears of regret, as women have often done before, with a leaf from the tree of consolation, and became joyous and light-hearted. They set off the next morning for the Valley of the Bright Old Inhabitants, and for greater speed she bore him on her shoulders, being the first bride that ever, as far as my knowledge goes, carried home her husband in a basket.

The confederates divided the lands they had conquered. The Mengwe took the lands which lay on the shores of the lakes of the north; the Lenapes chose those which received the beams of the warm suns of the south. Many, many ages passed away, the two nations continued at peace, the war-whoop was banished from the shades of either, and their numbers waxed very great. At length, some of our young hunters and warriors crossed the great glades[A], and travelled onward till they came to the beautiful Lenape wihittuck, where they have remained ever since. And this is the story which is told throughout the tribes of the wilderness, of the emigration of our people, and their victory over the original proprietors of the soil. I have done.

[Footnote A: The mountains.]

NOTES.

(1) _She became his without a wrestle._--p. 143.