Book 3i-^4 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
TEUCHSA GRONDIE, 
 
 ftgtnkri) ^otm. 
 
 LEV^I BISHOP*. 
 
 pETPyOiT, Mich. 
 
 PRIKTED BY THE TUNIS STEAM PRINTING COMPANY. 
 1869. 
 
f6\ 
 
 Entered according to an Aft of Congress, In the year 1869, 
 
 By LEVI BISHOP, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the Distrift Court of the United States In and 
 for the Eastern Discrift of Michigan. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CANTO. 
 
 
 
 A. D. 
 
 I. 
 
 The 
 
 Village 
 
 1565 
 
 II. 
 
 The 
 
 Public Games .... 
 
 1585 
 
 III. 
 
 The 
 
 Exploration .... 
 
 1610 
 
 IV. 
 
 The 
 
 Discovery 
 
 1610 
 
 V. 
 
 The 
 
 Reception .... 
 
 1610-11 
 
 YI. 
 
 Ot-s 
 
 KI-TA 
 
 1611 
 
 VII. 
 
 Equabaw 
 
 1611 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Thunder Bay 
 
 1611 
 
 IX. 
 
 The 
 
 Great Turtle .... 
 
 1611 
 
 X. 
 
 The 
 
 Huron Mission .... 
 
 1G26 
 
 XI. 
 
 The 
 
 Return ..... 
 
 1639 
 
 XII. 
 
 The 
 
 Pestilence ..... 
 
 1639 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The 
 
 Land of Dreajis 
 
 1639 
 
 XIV. 
 
 The 
 
 AVinter Hunt .... 
 
 1639-40 
 
 XV. 
 
 The 
 
 Festival op the Dead . 
 
 1644 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The 
 
 Missionary 
 
 1645 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The 
 
 Summer Hunt .... 
 
 1646 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The 
 
 Embassy 
 
 1(U9 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The 
 
 Illinois 
 
 1649 
 
 XX. 
 
 We-koon-de-win ..... 
 
 1649 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The 
 
 War Party .... 
 
 1649 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The 
 
 Battle of the V/'ilderness 
 
 1649 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Whippookwill 
 
 1655 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The 
 
 Spy 
 
 1660 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The 
 
 War Cloud .... 
 
 1665 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The 
 
 Storm of War .... 
 
 1665 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Wa- 
 
 BE-NO-KA ..... 
 
 1665 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The 
 
 Jubilee 
 
 1665 
 
PRINCIPAL ACTORS. 
 
 Wa-won-ais-sa; or, "Whippoorwill, 
 (Six Generations,) 
 Jossakeed; a Prophet, 
 CiiE-TO-wAiK ; the Plover, 
 Ken-na-beck ; a Serpent, 
 Mus-KO-DA-SA ; theGrou.se, 
 Wa-be-no-ka, 
 Kah-gah-gee; the Ptaven, 
 Ko-KO-KO-HO ; the Owl. 
 Sub-be-kah ; the Spider, 
 Siiau-go-dah ; a Boaster, 
 Ta-to-kee, 
 Wa-wa-tay-see ; the Firefly. 
 
 Le Yareau; a Franciscan Monk, 
 Jenocaire ; a Jesuit Mi.ssionary, 
 BouRDELAis; a Jesuit Missionary, 
 
 DUROC, 
 
 Tai-go-ne-ga, 
 Kan-ne-tow, 
 
 ■ Teuchsa Grondie Indians. 
 
 \ Fr 
 
 eiich. 
 
 j Hun 
 
 on Chiefs. 
 
 Me-shi-nau-wa ; a Pipe Bearer. Mohawk Chief. 
 Wa-bas-so ; a Rabbit. Ottawa Chief. 
 
 li,. 
 
 Ka-go-gee, 
 
 DO-KA-TEE, 
 0-TO-QUOT, 
 
 Tang-gu-shin, 
 
 Kl-SAN-KO-SEE, 
 
 Ni-kan-no-kee, 
 Ni-Ni-VAY ; a Miami Chief. 
 No-ne-yah; a Pottawattamie Chief. 
 
 roquois ; 
 
 or, Ko-de-no-sau-nee. 
 
 Illinois ; or, Chic-ta-ghicks. 
 
TEUCHSA GRONDIE. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 THE VILLAG-E 
 
 A. D. 1565. 
 
 Prefatory Note. History informs us that when the pres- 
 ent site of Detroit was first visited by Europeans, it was occu- 
 pied by an Indian village called Teuchsa Grondie. The Indian 
 word Wa-won-ais-sa signified Whippoorwill ; and it is proposed to 
 trace the family of AVhippoorwill through several generations, for 
 the purpose of illustrating, in some measure, the totemic order 
 of descent in the female line. The name So-wan-na signified the 
 great Master of Life, who presided over the place of departed 
 spirits, in the distant Southwest. 
 
 A/TY gentle Muse ! Awake and sing — 
 
 Of wigwam, tomahawk and quiver ! 
 Abroad tli}^ sweetest echoes fling, 
 
 Of western forest, lake and river : 
 Of fairy tale and fairy scene ; 
 
 Of war paint and of bark canoe ; 
 Of winter bleak and summer green ; 
 
 Of spirit of the Manitou : 
 
6 TETJCIISA GKONDIE. 
 
 Of pioneer in wilderness, 
 
 Wliere darkest perils oft beset ; 
 Of I) old adventures numberless ; 
 
 Of magic power of calumet : 
 Of struggles of heroic brave, 
 
 In raging storm on every side, 
 His liunting grounds and home to save. 
 
 Against an overwhelming tide : 
 Of chieftain roaming thro' the west; 
 
 Of war whooj) and the victor's shout 
 Of fiercest passions in the breast ; 
 
 Of strong battalia in the rout : 
 Of nations in the balance tossed ; 
 
 Of superhuman strength and skill ; 
 Of dearest rights forever lost ; 
 
 Of Wa-won-ais-sa, Whippoorwill. 
 
 1 1. 
 
 Beside that broad but gentle tide. 
 Where navies of the world may ride ; 
 Whose waters creep along the shore. 
 Ere long to swell Niagara ' s roar ; 
 Here quiet stood an Indian village, 
 
 Unknown its origin or date — 
 Algonquin huts and rustic tillage, 
 
 Wliere stands the City of the Strait. 
 Upon the sloping bank it stood, 
 And yet extended from the flood, 
 Towards the forest circling nigh, 
 That rose majestic to the sky. 
 
THE VIL L AGE 
 
 From dark antiquity it came, 
 
 In mytlis and dreamy ages cast ; 
 
 And Teuclisa Grondie was its name — 
 Prond relic of forgotten past. 
 
 III. 
 
 The lints of bark on every liand, 
 
 Neat, conical in form. 
 In liappy, artless order stand, 
 
 A shelter from the storm. 
 The cabin door of scanty size. 
 
 The central lire, are there ; 
 Above, the graceful smoke may rise, 
 
 And shoot to outer air. 
 The floor vritli mats is neatly spread ; 
 The winter stores are over head ; 
 And round about in every space, 
 Weapons of war and of the chase. 
 
 I y . 
 
 No chairs or sofas there are found, 
 Or tables, as in courtly life ; 
 
 No plates or cups or table cloth : 
 The guests are seated on the ground ; 
 The finger serves as fork and knife ; 
 The hand or wooden spoon for broth. 
 No costly vases — curious cast ; 
 No spices that the taste incite ; 
 
TEUCIISA GEONDIE. 
 
 No dainty viands — rich repast, 
 To tempt a pampered appetite : 
 
 No fiery drinks of drug malign, 
 
 As yet have cursed the nation ; 
 
 Pure crystal water serves for wine 
 And for devout libation : 
 
 And, heedless if the common dish 
 
 Be owl or bear or dog or fish. 
 The eager circle quickly share 
 The pottage and the scanty fare. 
 
 V. 
 
 The tidy dress from waist to knee. 
 Of skins or braid of bark or grass, 
 
 Was simplest of simplicity, 
 
 Save when it noted rank or class. 
 
 The plaited leaves of ash or oak, 
 
 Might well supply the janty cloak ; 
 And often, when the summer shone. 
 The dress of nature served alone. 
 
 But when the sterner season came, 
 
 And winter suns were crouching low, 
 
 The richest furs of captured game, 
 
 Were proof to frost and driving snow. 
 
 V I, 
 
 Then gathered round the cabin fire, 
 The mother, pappoose and the sire ; — 
 The young beside the older folks, 
 With hearty laugh for ready jokes. 
 
THEVILLAGE. 9 
 
 The cliief would tell liis wondrous tale, 
 Of war patli and of forest game ; 
 
 And eager youth would deep inhale 
 The love of glory, love of fame. 
 
 The necromancer, too, would tell, 
 
 To listeners held as by a spell — 
 
 Of trees that walked in masquerade ; 
 Of "birds that spoke like charming maid : 
 
 Of pigmies that, with potent charm, 
 
 Could doughty warriors disarm ; 
 Of heroes in the magic dress ; 
 Of wayward child in wilderness : 
 
 Of sorcerer in lonely glen ; 
 
 Of manitous in shape of men ; 
 Of maidens, in the mystic grove 
 With spirits, melting into love : 
 
 Of chieftain turned to beast, and then 
 
 The savage beast to warrior men : 
 Of ghost and gorgon, seen afar, 
 In lands towards the evening star : 
 
 Of sights and sounds of fearfal wonder; 
 
 Of voices like the crashing thunder ; — 
 Till frighted children quick would glide. 
 By instinct to the mother's side. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Around this ancient Indian village, 
 In artless form was Indian tillage ; 
 
 Where, in their season might be seen. 
 The corn, the vine, the squash and bean. 
 
10 TEUCIISA GEONDIE. 
 
 And there, laborious, bending low. 
 
 Was gentler sex, with rustic hoe ; 
 
 Nor haughty brave, from cabin shade. 
 Would condescend to lend his aid. 
 
 The ground jirepared, she dropped the seed. 
 She watched the springing blade ; 
 
 She pulled away the thrifty weed, 
 For vines the arches made. 
 
 And w^hen approached the harvest day, 
 With ever watchful eyes. 
 
 She drove the thieving birds away, 
 With motions and with cries. 
 
 And her's the task, the summer o'er, 
 
 To gather in the autumn store ; 
 To guard it with a prudent care, 
 And thus supply the winter fare. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The fearless hunter, roaming far. 
 
 In quest of savage game. 
 Was bred to bold, relentless war. 
 
 To fields of worthy fame. 
 In wilderness that circled round, 
 The chase, its troj^hies, quickly found : 
 The deer, the partridge, fox, and bear. 
 The turkey, squirrel — all were there. 
 In bark canoe, with line and hook. 
 Rare sport with profit well partook ; 
 The angler seldom turned about. 
 Without his bass, or pike, or trout. 
 
T II E V I L L A G E . 11 
 
 The rivers teemed with finny race, 
 That would a royal table grace ; 
 
 And when the winter store was spent, 
 
 The waters an abundance lent. 
 
 IX . 
 
 And in the centre of the place, 
 
 For councils, dances and for play. 
 
 Was left a square — an open space, 
 Like Champ de Mars of later day. 
 
 The mother, here, beneath the sky. 
 
 In cadence wild sung lullaby ; 
 
 Or caught the yell resounding far. 
 Of ' chieftain from the distant war. 
 
 And here the young, as moon was bright, 
 Would from the dingy cabin rove ; 
 
 And in the flying hours of night 
 
 Would breathe the gentle words of love. 
 
 For great occasions, hall of bark. 
 
 Of ample, stately form would rise, 
 To grace the lovely central park — 
 
 An arch beneath the arching skies. 
 And here, in circles, on the ground. 
 In solemn mood, in thought profound, 
 
 Was held the council of the State ; 
 To hear ambassadors from far. 
 To deep advise of peace and war. 
 
 To listen to the stern debate. 
 
12 TEIJCHSA GEONDIE. 
 
 The chieftain, here, in lofty strain, 
 Wonhl all his burning wrongs maintain, 
 
 Yet meet a calm, an iron stare ; 
 The fiercest passions of the breast, 
 Tho' deeply moved would seem at rest, 
 
 Nor leave a sign of vengeance there. 
 But when the firm resolve is la' en. 
 They execute, with might and main ; 
 
 They sweep like rolling, rushing tides. 
 Of charging foe they meet the shock. 
 Like Dover Clift' or Ocean rock, 
 
 Or sturdy ship of lon sides. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Here warrior to his standard flew. 
 
 Not knowing what his future doom ; 
 And, calling on his Manitou, 
 
 Would plunge into the forest gloom. 
 And when from war patli he returned. 
 
 Besmeared with paint and blood of slain — 
 From wigwam rudely sacked and burned. 
 
 His clan received him here again. 
 The war song cheered him as he went. 
 On deeds of high ambition bent — 
 
 The chieftains ever pure delight ; 
 The dance of death upon the green. 
 Must now present its dismal scene — 
 
 Appalling, sickening, horrid sight ! 
 Good heavens! the hapless prisoner's lot! 
 The ghastly wound, the arrow shot ; 
 
THE VILLAGE. 13 
 
 The crusMng stone, the cruel "blow, 
 The fires that round the victim glow ; 
 
 The taunting jeer, the yell accurst, 
 
 The stoic nerve that braves the worst ; 
 The heavy drops of clamy sweat. 
 While ebbing life may linger yet ; 
 
 The death song, grimly murmered low. 
 
 From fierce, unutterable woe ; 
 
 The stifled groan, the gasping sigh, 
 Dear tokens that the end is nigh ; 
 
 To dogs the mangled body cast, 
 
 Or eaten as a rich repast ; 
 
 The dance around the gloomy den : 
 And these we call a race of men ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 To brighter scene we turn the e^^e — 
 
 To dance beneath autumnal sky. 
 
 The hunter from the summer roam, 
 Is welcomed to nis rustic home. 
 
 The ears of corn are neatly strung; 
 
 The venison, dried, in cabin hung. 
 The forest in its golden sear, 
 Bespeaks the winter drawing near ; 
 
 And yet the "Indian Summer" day 
 
 Is lovely as the blooming May. 
 
 On every hand Dame Nature smiles, 
 And every pain of earth beguiles. 
 
 The clear, refreshing air is bland. 
 
 Like atmosphere of fairy land. 
 
14 TEIJCHSA GEOISTDIE. 
 
 The buoyant spirits freely rise, 
 Like incense from the sacrifice, 
 And calmly float upon the air, 
 As if their native home were there : 
 Oh, is not this a sweet prelude, 
 To heavenly home — beatitude! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Now comes the autumn jubilee : 
 The happy people, gay and free. 
 
 With stranger, present, or by chance, 
 Or by design, from far away. 
 Would have a merry, festal day ; 
 
 Would revel in the village dance. 
 Loud chime the reed, the horn, the shell, 
 With human voice in wildest yell ; 
 
 The forest echoes back the sound ; 
 Their active limbs the dancers ply ; 
 They fling their arms against the sky ; 
 
 They whirl the rapid — giddy round. 
 Like swelling, undulating tide, 
 They sweep the square from side to side ; 
 
 They form the circle hand in hand ; 
 They shout, they swing around amain ; 
 They vow their friendship to maintain, 
 
 'Gainst every foe of every land. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And such was Teuchsa Grondie then, 
 A pleasant Indian town : 
 
THE VILLAGE. 15 
 
 Unknown to other race of men, 
 
 Yet full of liigh renown. 
 Its annals, tho' obscure, miglit trace, 
 The prowess of Algonquin race ; 
 
 Its many heroes were its T^oast, 
 
 Whose names are now forever lost. 
 The charm that its location lent, 
 
 Its free access and central station. 
 Attracted here a continent ; 
 
 Fit capitol for mighty nation. 
 
 X V . 
 
 And now approach the shades of night ; 
 The troubled clouds a terror shed ; 
 
 The silent hours to couch invite ; 
 
 The ready mat and skin are spread. 
 
 The inmates of the cabin's nest, 
 
 Are lost in sleep and dreamy rest ; 
 Save Wa-won-ais-sa, wakeful still. 
 To soothe her infant Whippoorwill, 
 And quell to rest a fevered brain, 
 AVith lullaby and cabin strain. 
 
 The measured numbers softly tell. 
 
 Like mellow sound of distant horn ; 
 
 And deep enhance the midnight spell. 
 Beneath the cabin roof forlorn. 
 
 CABIN SONG. 
 
 1. 
 
 How slow the wakeful hours, 
 
 That creep along so weary, 
 Beneath the rustic bowers ; 
 
 How heavy and how dreary. 
 
16 TEUCHSA GRONDIE. 
 
 2. 
 
 The hunter from the chase, 
 That he pursued so fleetly, 
 
 Now rests from hardy race, 
 Upon his mat so sweetly. 
 
 3. 
 
 The warrior from afar, 
 Repeats his bloody story ; 
 
 Wild, fierce, relentless war, 
 His life, his soul, his glory. 
 
 4. 
 
 From snow and chilling rain. 
 The pappoose in the cabin. 
 
 Awaits till come again, 
 
 The spring-time and the robin. 
 
 5. 
 
 I love the wigwam home, 
 
 Its brands so cheerful burning ; 
 
 Wherever I may roam, 
 
 I love the sweet returning. 
 
 6. 
 And when this life shall end. 
 
 When calls the great So-wan-na, 
 Southwestward shall I wend, 
 
 To roam the great Savanna. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 As Wa-won-ais-sa sweetly sung, 
 The babe tliat to her bosom clung, 
 
 Had lost, in quiet sleep, its pain, 
 
 And all w\as dark and still again. 
 The mother in her sleeping plight, 
 
 Addressed a prayer to Manitou ; 
 The owl rung out the hour of night, 
 
 That quiet reigned, and quickly flew. 
 
TEUCHSA GRONDIE 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 Iht public Sames. 
 
 (CORRECTED COPY.) 
 
To Hon. ALEXANDER D. ERASER, 
 
 Of the Detroit Bae: 
 
 My highly esteemed friend, by whose kind 
 encouragement I have been induced to persevere in 
 the accomplishment of this work, and by whose 
 friendly criticisms I have been much benefited there- 
 in, this Second Canto is, with his permission, most 
 respectfully dedicated by 
 
 x^HE AUTHOR. 
 
TEUCHSA GRONDIE. 
 
 OAJS^TO IL 
 THE PUBLIC GJ-AMES. 
 
 A. D. 1585. 
 
 Prefatory Note. It was customary among the American 
 Indians, to hold annual festivals, in the fall of the year, cele- 
 brated by public games. In the Indian tongue, Da-hin-da sig- 
 nified bullfrog : Ad-hei\ reindesr : Kit-ta-coin-si, one that 
 climbs: Mah-nah-be-zee, swan: Ke-no-zha, pickerel: Mas-ke-no- 
 zha, pike. 
 
 ^lichabou was the great presiding ISIanitou of the Northern 
 lakes, hiving; his headquarters at INIackinaw. Ghosts, spirits, 
 and hobgoblins were familiar objects among the Indians, and 
 the f.iiry scene above the river, is designed as a picture of a 
 branch of the Indian mythology. 
 
 It will be notic 'd that the red men had already become 
 alarmed at thi^ app oich of Europeans, although none of that 
 race had as yet visited tliis section of the country. 
 
 ~\ Tow rich the fields of human thought, 
 -' — *- In myriad paths as yet untrod! 
 
 How vast the range that may be sought, 
 
 Empyrenn, round the throne of God ! 
 Tradition but obscurely lends, 
 
 Its light from far along our way ; 
 Yet if we walk where nature tends, 
 
 Tradition blazes into day. 
 
20 TEUCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 Thougli history be not our theme, 
 
 We skirt its ever sinning page ; 
 And though our song be but a dream, 
 
 It boldly paints heroic age. 
 Imagination's utmost range, 
 
 Invites our footsteps far and wide : 
 At every step a pleasing change, 
 
 And sweet wild flowers on every side. 
 
 II. 
 
 The morning stars proclaim the day ; 
 
 The nightly shadows melt away. 
 
 The rising sim with smiling mien, 
 Displays the " Indian Summer " sheen ; 
 
 A day for sports and public games. 
 
 In mem'ry of heroic names : 
 
 For well may Tench sa Grondie boast, 
 Of honored names a mighty host. 
 
 The people take their early fare ; 
 
 They sally out to public square ; — 
 
 A motley band of young and old. 
 Of women and of chieftains bold ; 
 
 In paint and plumage— briglit array. 
 With expectations high ; 
 
 And eager for the grand dis})lay, 
 The boldest feats to try. 
 
 Among the gay and ha{)py throng — ■ 
 
 A wife, her mother living still — 
 
 The wakeful child of cabin song, 
 
 Now honored as the AVhippoorwill. 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 21 
 
 III. 
 
 And first, the umpire, all agreed, 
 Should be the prophet, Jossakeed : 
 His word is law in every strife ; 
 His nod, that day, is death or life. 
 The way is cleared. Upon the lawn 
 With bison's shoulder blade, 
 Or tomahawk, a line is drawn : 
 
 A circle now is made. 
 " Who from the line shall farthest leap," 
 
 The umpire loud proclaims ; 
 " The prize — an eagle's wing — shall keep : 
 
 Begin the festal games." 
 Away they fly as on the wind, 
 Afar they eager spring; 
 Da-hin-da leaves them all behind ; 
 Applauses loudly ring ; 
 The victor strides with lofty air; 
 The prize he places in his hair. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Stand forth, two men," said Jossakeed ; 
 
 Upon their heads he placed a reed : 
 
 " Now one by one your muscle try. 
 And run and spring as for the sky ; 
 
 Who passes o'er and touches not. 
 
 The hawksbill prize shall be his lot." 
 Then swift they fly apast the stand. 
 And eacli and all the prize demand ; 
 
22 TETJCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 For all have leaped in one procession, 
 And scaled the reed in quick succession. 
 Aratto, now — the light and fleet, 
 
 Ambitious yet, 
 Flies o'er the reed and turns complete, 
 A summerset : 
 And loud and long the shouts arise; 
 The victor proudly takes the prize. 
 
 V. 
 
 The race was next. Upon the lawn, 
 Far to the rear the line was drawn. 
 
 " That is the goal ; from river start : 
 Quick, on the signal, all depart.'^ 
 Then Jossakeed sends forth the cry, 
 And up the slope they wildly fly : 
 Swift as the roe upon the plain. 
 And eager all the prize to gain. 
 Loud swells a shout on every side. 
 As pours along the sweeping tide ; 
 
 • And while they nearly keep abreast, 
 Ad-hec, the reindeer, leads the rest. 
 He leaps the goal with flashing eyes. 
 And loudly claims the worthy prize. 
 The prize, a curious braided sash, 
 Of grass and bark of mountain ash. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Said Jossakeed, " The willows bring, 
 And twist them to a perfect ring, 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 23 
 
 Like bison's rolling eye ; " 
 Said Jossakeed, "Your arrows bring, 
 A hundred paces let them sing, 
 
 Your skill and strength to try ; 
 A painted arrow is the lot, 
 Of each whose arrow hits the spot." 
 
 At once a hundred bows they drew ; 
 At once a hundred arrows flew ; 
 And many could the prizes boast. 
 While many erring ones were lost. 
 
 Just then, a shadow from the sky, 
 Was seen athwart. The upward eye, 
 Beheld a hawk of largest size. 
 
 Well poised upon the air ; 
 Instinctively each sought the prize, 
 
 AVhich tempting circled there : 
 And as he floated on the wing, 
 
 A hundred arrows flew; 
 Unerringly they upward sing, 
 
 And pierce him thro' and thro'. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Beyond the cornfields in the rear. 
 
 Majestic stood the oak and elm ; 
 Now richly clad in golden sear. 
 
 The kings and queens of forest realm. 
 "Go mount;" cried Jossakeed aloud: 
 A murmur ran thro' all the crowd. 
 
 " We can not do it," they exclaim ; 
 
 " And can not, now, is not a shame : 
 
24 TEUCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 « 
 
 Unworthy feats we will not share ; 
 Shall we compete with cat and bear?" 
 
 Then Kit-ta-coin-si from the rest, 
 
 Stood forth, and tluis his mind expressed : 
 " Who says he cannot, need not try ; 
 Who says he will, may even fly : 
 Who thinks him weak, is weakly still ; 
 Success, is in determined will : 
 And no one knows what in him lies, 
 Until with all his might he tries." 
 
 With that, like flash of sabre stroke. 
 
 He sprung, elastic, to the oak ; 
 
 Like wild cat to the top he went. 
 While shout on shout the welkin rent. 
 
 But what is that! a horrid siglit! 
 
 That chills the blood with sudden fright ! 
 Upon a sturdy branch there lay, 
 To watch the sports of festal day, 
 
 Black, grim, and fierce, in all his j^ride, 
 
 A monarch of the forest wide. 
 
 A surly growl ! quick preparation. 
 To hurl intruder from the station. 
 
 Retreat cut ofl^, for deadly strife, 
 
 Brave Kit-ta-coin-si, draws his knife. 
 
 Such battle field was never seen ; 
 Unequal was the war, I ween. 
 
 No re-enforcements can they call, 
 
 And one must quickly die and fall. 
 
 Fierce terrors dart from bruin's eyes: 
 I can, I will, the other cries. 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 25 
 
 They grapple, now, in deadly throe: 
 
 The frighted oak sways to and fro : 
 
 While down upon the distant plain, 
 Wild fears and hopes alternate reign. 
 
 As bruin snaps a brawny part, 
 
 His eyes a burning glare. 
 
 The knife is driven to his heart, 
 
 And deadly rankles there. 
 
 He soon unlocks his rigid clasp ; 
 
 He quickly draws a mortal gasp. 
 
 Down, down he tumbles with a bound, 
 A worthy trophy, to the ground. 
 
 Hold, victor, hold ! your balance keep, 
 Upon the dizzy height : 
 
 In vain, in vain ! thou, too, must leap, 
 Perhaps to endless night. 
 
 The quick re-action in his brain. 
 
 Sent him down plunging to the plain ; 
 
 Yet he, tho' whirling round complete, 
 Like wild cat, landed on his feet. 
 
 He proudly strides to waiting square. 
 
 And throws his pond'rous trophy there. 
 
 The crowd survey with eager eyes ; 
 A belt of wampum is the prize. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The husband, this, of Wa-won-ais-sa's charms ; 
 
 His pappoose sees the battle fray ; 
 His wife receives him proudly to her arms. 
 
 The hero of the festal day. 
 
26 TEUCHSA GEONDIE, 
 
 IX. 
 
 " And now make ready, one and all," 
 Said Jossakeed, " for game at ball ; 
 
 In fury, on the level plain, 
 
 Let mimic war resound again." 
 At once two painted stakes are set. 
 
 Three hundred yards or more apart; 
 Between, the rival parties met, 
 
 The flying ball to strike — to dart. 
 To drive it past the stake amain 
 
 Of hostile party in the strife. 
 That was the point for each to gain — 
 
 To seek it as for very life. 
 The party wolf is at the west. 
 
 The party beaver at the east; 
 And wild will be the furious test. 
 
 Like beast against ferocious beast. 
 At signal, promptly, they engage. 
 
 With shout and shriek and deafening yell; 
 And stern, heroic, battle wage ; 
 
 And both assail, and both repel. 
 Like rushing clouds along the sky. 
 
 Like surges on resounding shore, 
 Wher-e'er the ball is seen to fly. 
 
 There fiercely, madly, do they pour. 
 If either party seems to gain. 
 The otlier hurls them back amain ; 
 
 And if the game approach the stakes, 
 
 It soon a counter current takes. 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 27 
 
 At last the ball a chieftain throws, 
 
 As on the wing, with lofty bound ; 
 And past the western stake it goes : 
 
 The beavers rend the air around. 
 Upon the spot, from umpire's hand — 
 
 The worthy Sachem, just and grave, 
 The wampum flies to victor band. 
 
 As ever brave reward the brave. 
 
 X. 
 
 " The navy, now," says Jossakeed, 
 " A prize demand for skill and speed. 
 
 Start from the strand the other side, 
 
 And row across the crystal tide. 
 The first to touch the hither shore, 
 Shall win the prize, a polished oar." 
 
 At once there shot like solar beam, 
 
 A hundred skiffs across the stream — 
 As light as fleecy clouds of air. 
 Although a stalworth man was there. 
 
 Now, ranged along the distant land, 
 
 They wait the signal — wave of hand. 
 At once a hundred paddles fly ; 
 
 No lack of nerve the rowers know ; 
 
 They pull as worthy pull the brave ; 
 They toss the spray against the sky. 
 
 And breast to breast the shallops go ; 
 
 They lightly skim along the wave. 
 The manly strokes full rapid tell, 
 
 And fiercely shout the eager band ; 
 
28 TEUCHSA GEONDIE. 
 
 The shores hurl back resounding yell ; 
 
 The sight is thrilling — truly grand. 
 The trees around, in watchful mien, 
 Bend forward to behold the scene; 
 Nor inattentive to the view, 
 The water spirit — Michabou. 
 At Teuchsa Grondie, crowded strand, 
 All, breathless, wait the first to land. 
 
 Nor was it long ; a modern fleet, 
 Might there have suffered a defeat. 
 Old pickerel — Ke-no-zha bold, 
 The rest a trifle led ; 
 And in he came, as was foretold, 
 A half a length ahead. 
 Upon the spot the prize is paid — 
 
 The oar of mountain ash ; 
 Shout peals on shout like cannonade, 
 Or mighty thunder crash. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Said Jossakeed, " Your skiffs aside. 
 
 And let their worthy crew. 
 Dash in and swim the sweeping tide, 
 
 The prize — a bark canoe." 
 A moment and a lengthened line. 
 
 Of dusky figures brave. 
 On farther shore expect the sign, 
 
 To plunge them in the wave. 
 They go — like frogs into the deep, 
 
 Wiien danger may be nigh ; 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 29 
 
 Their brawny arms in order sweep, 
 
 And strongest efforts ply. 
 The way is quickly measured o'er ; 
 
 The goal is seized with eager eyes ; 
 And soon they reach the hither shore : 
 
 Proud Mah-nah-be-zee wins the prize. 
 And yet no voice is heard aloud, 
 In all that terror stricken crowd ; 
 
 For Michabou, with jealous eye — 
 The watchful guardian of the main, 
 As man invades his watery reign. 
 
 At once resolves a chief shall die. 
 The god can smile uj^on his chosen race, 
 
 When in a pleasant vein ; 
 But terrors gleam upon his frowning face 
 
 When anger swells again. 
 And as the racers shoot toward the goal. 
 With fierce ambition burning in the soul, 
 Sir Pike — proud Mas-ke-no-zha, on his heel, 
 Sharp feels a grip as firm as hook of steel. 
 He tries to call. Alas ! his voice is dumb : 
 Alas, he knows his final hour is come. 
 He gasps, he struggles, in a deadly throe ; 
 He sinks forever to the shades below. 
 At once each mind with gloom is overcast: 
 The gay excitements of the day are past. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Then slowly, calmly, Jossakeed arose; 
 His solemn voice was heard ; 
 
30 TEUCHSA GEONDIE. 
 
 " The gods are angry and the games I close ; 
 The dance shall be deferred." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The sun has set beneath the west, 
 Tho' not arrived the hour of rest. 
 
 Thro' hazy clouds above the river, 
 The stars look down as bright as ever. 
 The gentle waters glide along. 
 Sweet emblem of mellifluent song. 
 
 The clear, the bracing autumn air. 
 Sheds lovely charms of evening there. 
 The people on the sloping hill, 
 Calm, listen to the whippoorwill. 
 
 No other voice the silence breaks, 
 Till Jossakeed prophetic speaks. 
 " The stranger landed on the eastern shore, 
 
 In vast canoe, with flying clouds unfurled — 
 I dread his coming, as I deep deplore; 
 
 He bodes no good to this our western world. 
 In every breeze I snuff the coming storm ; 
 
 The trees, the very skies are stained with blood ; 
 Destruction to our race in every form — 
 
 See ! Mas-ke-no-zha ! with an angry god ! " 
 All gaze intent u])on tlie circling wave. 
 
 Where late the gasping, struggling, hero sunk; 
 And darkly there, and uloomy as the grave, 
 
 Arises grim, his melancholy trunk. 
 Beside him stands dread Michabou the great, 
 Dark as the blackest caverns of the night; 
 
THE PUBLIC GAMES. 31 
 
 Tremendous, fierce, and frowning stern as fate, 
 
 In terrors clad, and majesty and might. 
 They rise obscurely on the misty deep ; 
 Those on the shore the dee])est silence keep, 
 
 With eyes in horror firmly set ; 
 And as the phantoms float upon the air, 
 By slow degrees a myriad host are there, 
 
 In shades of death together met. 
 The owl whoops out a doleful note, 
 The frighted curs in terror whine, 
 No more sweet Wa-won-ais-sa sings ; 
 Unnatural Avolf howls wildly float, 
 The ev^ening star forgets to shine. 
 The pappoose to its mother clings. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 At first the spectres circle round and round. 
 
 The god and Mas-ke-no-zha, in a dance ; 
 Their music, sighs — a melancholy sound. 
 
 Dreamy as whispering breezes, in a trance. 
 And quick, and quicker yet the action grows; 
 
 In one dim undulating mass they move; 
 The glassy stream is rippled as it flows ; 
 
 The fleecy clouds are gently stirred above. 
 The frighted mist at length has slowly fled ; 
 The night looks down ujion the spectral dead. 
 It is a sight the coursino; blood to chill — 
 That spirit world in evolution still. 
 A crowd of Manitous, on every hand, 
 In silence gaze upon the fairy band. 
 
32 TEUCHSA GRONDIE. 
 
 Nor is the curious moon unmindful then, 
 
 Of tliese that fix the eyes of gods and men. 
 
 Slowly she rises on the forest gloom, 
 
 To see the sign of swiftly coming doom. 
 
 Her step is silent. Silent is her train. 
 
 She mildly peers above the wide domain. 
 
 To view, and not disturb, her sole intent ; 
 
 Again she ne'er may see the like event. 
 
 She sees, and tho' with calm and smiling mien, 
 
 Her look is fatal to the gorgeous scene. 
 
 The Chief and Michabou, with lightning haste, 
 
 A refuge take beneath the watery waste. 
 
 The troubled fairies hie themselves away, 
 
 As from the light and terrors of the day. 
 
 The spectres melt into the lightsome air : 
 
 To eyes intent — a vacancy — is there. 
 
 XV. 
 " In this dread scene I clearly read, 
 Our fate and doom," says Jossakeed ; 
 
 "A woe upon our kind : 
 Like these our race shall pass away. 
 At some not distant future day ; 
 
 Nor leave a trace behind." 
 
 XVI. 
 And now, amid the balmy air. 
 The people to their huts repair. 
 
 The lowly couch is cpiickly spread ; 
 
 The evening ])rnyer is quickly said. 
 
 Silence resumes his awful reign ; 
 
 And Teuchsa Grondie sleeps again. 
 
TEUCHSA GRONDIE 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 lit ^^pl0rati0n. 
 
To Hon. AUGUSTUS S. PORTER, 
 
 Now OF NiAGAEA FaLLS; 
 
 Formerly of the Detroit Bar, 
 
 And member of the Senate of the United States 
 for Michigan: 
 
 Under whose patronage I commenced, and 
 under whose guidance I in part pursued, that course 
 of legal and other studies which has resulted in 
 whatever of professional success and rejuitation I 
 have attained as a member of the Bar of Michigan, 
 this Third Canto is, as an expression of esteem and 
 gratitude, respectfully dedicated by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
TEUCHSA GRO:^DIE. 
 
 OA^TO III. 
 THE EXPLORATION. 
 
 A. D. 1610. 
 
 Prefatory Note. — It will be remembered that the Pinta 
 was a vessel of Columbus. The expeditions of Cortes, Scott, 
 and Maximillian are those supposed to have been led by Ambi- 
 tion to Montezuma's Hall. For the purposes of euphony J place 
 the accent on the first and last syllables of the word Ottawa. 
 The word Niagara is derived from the Indian word 0-ni-ag-raah. 
 Ca-da-ra-qui was an ancient name for Lake Ontario. It is esti- 
 mated that the Falls of Niagara have been seventy thousand years 
 in receding from Lake Ontario to their present position. An- 
 ne-mee-ke was the Iroquois name for thunder, which was suj)- 
 posed to be a great Manitou, having his abode under the Falls 
 of Niagai'a, and who required the sacrifice, by going over the 
 falls, of at least one human being every year. The nether cave 
 — Cave of the AVinds, so called at the falls. In the use of the 
 words /0//0W and vaUudla, I have been compelled, in order to re- 
 tain tlie sense, to violate the rule of rhyme. In reading this 
 Canto the followhig dates should be remembered. In 1565 the 
 Spaniards settled at St. Augustiii, in Florida. In 1607 the Eng- 
 lish settled at Jamestown, Virginia. In 1608 Champlain founded 
 Quebec. In 1609 the Dutch settled at Manhattan, now New York. 
 The expedition related in this Canto commenced in 1610. In 
 1620 the Puritans settled at Plymouth, Mass. 
 
 PROPITIOUS Muse! of wild Ambition sing,— 
 The star malignant round the throne of God ; 
 Of untold crimes an ever active spring; 
 To hapless man a fierce avenging rod. 
 
36 TEUCHSA GRONDIE. 
 
 Ambition plows the seas and braves the storms, 
 And faces danger in a thousand forms. 
 Ambition freezes in the polar snows, 
 And melts in deserts whence the Xilus flows. 
 Ambition bravely walks the bnttk; [)hiin ; 
 And heaps the earth with mountains of the slain. 
 The brightest hopes of men, in freedom bred, 
 Are lost beneath Ambition's crushing tread. 
 When servile path to thrift Ambition sees, 
 Crouching, it licks the hand of power to please : 
 Proud independence, then, it flings away. 
 For one blest smile upon a festal day. 
 The lofty pyramids Ambition raises. 
 And on triumphal arch in sculpture blazes. 
 Ambition builds the proud imperial dome, 
 That makes the modern rival ancient Rome. 
 To swell the pomp of power with aliment, . 
 The daring Pinta to the west is sent: 
 And, thrice obedient to the silent call. 
 Ambition leads to Montezuma's Hall. 
 Ambition, too, with ensign proud unfurled, 
 
 Explores with eager hand, 
 The lakes and forest of this western world, 
 
 As of a promised land. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Dutchman, on Manhattan Bay, 
 
 On high his tattered banner threw — 
 
 The morning star of rising day. 
 
 Of nation springing into view. 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 37 
 
 The Spaniard, on the Everglade, 
 One feeble settlement had made. 
 
 The Briton only one could boast, 
 
 Upon the wide Atlantic coast; 
 For restless puritanic stock. 
 Had not yet seen the Plymouth rock. 
 
 Thro'out the north and boundless west, 
 
 Unmindful of the stranger guest. 
 And still the master of his home. 
 The red man could a monarch roam. 
 
 To seize the prize — a continent, 
 
 The Gaelic king a squadron sent. 
 He draws a line thro' friend and foe, 
 From Labrador to Mexico : 
 
 The Jieur de lis is flung on high, 
 
 With flaming cross, against the sky. 
 
 III. 
 
 At first, as by a natural law, 
 They thread the rapid Ottawa. 
 
 Around its tumbling cataracts, 
 
 They lug their skiffs and heavy packs; 
 And, guided by the northern star. 
 
 Beside the " Upper I^iakcs " they rally ; 
 They push their searches westward far; 
 
 They reach the Mississippi valley. 
 Meanwhile, vague rumors darkly told, 
 Like distant echoes from the past. 
 
 Of O-ni-ng-raali's thiiud;'i'ing way; 
 
38 TEUCHSAGEONDIE. 
 
 And where the devotee so bold, 
 To place his life upon a cast, 
 
 And search it out without dismay? 
 An active monk, of humble spirit. 
 
 No vain ambition in his heart, 
 Franciscan, yet of signal merit — 
 
 A beggar, dared the noble part. 
 Le Vareau was his modest name, 
 Now blazoned on the rolls of fame; 
 
 The mighty Lake's resounding shore, 
 
 Shall waft it on forever-more. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Two yawl boats were his humble fleet, 
 To venture far from land ; 
 
 Twelve chosen men the crew complete — 
 An Argonautic band. 
 
 To guard against a jealous foe. 
 
 And unseen dangers none could know ; 
 To bear the peaceful calumet, 
 And guide where obstacles beset ; 
 
 To lead upon the trackless wave ; 
 
 Pipe Bearer, Me-shi-nau-wa brave — 
 A Mohawk chief, his service lent. 
 Upon a bold adventure bent. 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 39 
 
 V. 
 
 A cliant they sing ; adieus they take ; 
 
 An unknown heathen world their aim 
 They pass proud Ca-da-ra-qui Lake — 
 
 The Lake Ontario now the same. 
 They land upon the western shore; 
 They hear Niagara's distant roar: 
 
 They see its cloudy, rolling spray: 
 Eight stalworth men the navy bear ; 
 The baggage is the others' care ; 
 
 The tangled portage they essay. 
 And up the steep they onward press, 
 Amid a darksome wilderness. 
 
 Upon projecting points they tread, 
 
 Above the rocky, fearful bed. 
 Le Vareau walks the narrow way ; 
 
 In terror does he often shrink: 
 If but a step were set astray — 
 
 Ye horrors, what a frightful brink ! 
 They wend their way to " Table Rock" — 
 Deep rent by frost and heaving shock ; 
 
 High poised, and ready to be hurled, 
 
 AVith crashing sound to nether world. 
 The sun is in the western sky ; 
 
 He casts his beams against the spray ; 
 The rainbow bursts upon the eye. 
 
 And cheerful smiles' at parting day. 
 
40 TEUCHSAGEONDIE. 
 
 The forest trees upon the ledge, 
 
 Stand high above the iris bow ; 
 Peering at times beyond the edge, 
 
 Into the yawning gulf* below. 
 They gaze upon that awful scene — 
 
 That God-ereated battlement, 
 That boiling surge of deepest green, 
 
 That never-ending swift descent. 
 They note that one eternal roar ; 
 
 They mark those misty, fleecy tears, 
 That speak from still receding shore. 
 
 Of seventy thousand flying years. 
 Those widely gaping, thirsty jaws, 
 
 Although long fed by rushing flood. 
 Insatiate still, can know no pause. 
 
 In this stupendous work of God. 
 
 VI. 
 
 The party sought a lonely grot. 
 In which to spread an humble cot; 
 
 And where a ledge, tho' wild in form. 
 Might shelter from a threatened storm. 
 By those that gnawing hunger feel, 
 Is soon dispatched the evening meal; 
 And all are seated on their mat, 
 To have a social evening chat. 
 Awhile they sit in thought abstract. 
 Before that rushing cataract. 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 41 
 
 On high the rolling mist is hurled, 
 
 As from a subterranean world : 
 And though they sit upon a rock, 
 They feel the mighty ocean shock. 
 
 At length Le Vareau silence breaks, 
 
 And reverent thus he calmly speaks : 
 
 LE VAEEAU. 
 
 This awful gorge, this mighty, rushing flood, 
 
 Declare the works, the majesty of God. 
 
 The vast cerulean arch above he flung, 
 
 And whirling planets to his glory sung. 
 
 He formed the earth, the ocean, and the lake ; 
 
 And at his voice their deep foundations quake. 
 
 The spring — his smile; the flying cloud — his breath ; 
 
 His pardon — life : his frown — eternal death. 
 
 At his command, the rivers to the main 
 
 Their courses keep, and n'er return again. 
 
 He holds his seat above the vaulted sky, 
 
 And, though unseen, is yet forever nigh. 
 
 Thro' sweeping time, as ere the world begun, 
 
 He rules and reigns. Eternal — Three in One. 
 
 He is the God that on the lio-htnlno; soars : 
 
 His is the voice that here forever roars. 
 
 ME-SHI-NAU-WA. 
 
 Na, na; at once replies the Mohawk chief; 
 Give ear whilst I relate the true belief. 
 Beneath that shooting flood, a vacant space ; 
 There sullen An-nc-mee-kc holds his place. 
 
42 TEUCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 His throne is there. On adamantine rock, 
 That firm resists the mighty torrent shock, 
 He watchful sits — the guardian, ever true. 
 Of this wikl realm; — dread Gitchie Manitou. 
 Of lofty frame — collossal is his size; 
 Like balls of living fire his rolling eyes. 
 His locks, his color, are of deepest green ; 
 His aspect stern; majestic is his mien. 
 This constant spray — the vapor of his breath ; 
 This roar — his moan, as of the pang of death. 
 And when, in anger fierce, he sallies forth. 
 He chills the air like gale from icy north. 
 The lightning streaks, that dart athwart the sky 
 Are but the flashes of his gleaming eye. 
 The pealing thunders that above us roll. 
 Are but the bowlings of his troubled soul. 
 His giant sons are ever at command. 
 To roam and howl and thunder thro' the land. 
 He annual craves, I tremble to recite, 
 A human form to sate his appetite. 
 Perhaps, e'en now, in council there below, 
 He meditates for us a fatal blow. 
 For this invasion of his rightful reign, 
 One, if not all, may be untimely slain. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The chief was silent. Silent all, 
 Except that deafening water fall. 
 
 The chief, to custom ever true. 
 
 Invoked liis ffunrdian INIanitou. 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 43 
 
 Le Vareau then his vespers sung : 
 The cross upon a bramble hung. 
 
 For incense — burning leaves instead ; 
 
 The wafer — slips of moldy bread. 
 Yet where the heart is right within, 
 The simplest offerings cleanse from sin : 
 
 The merit is the good intent; 
 
 There all is well where well is meant. 
 When each had thus his prayer expressed, 
 
 With leaves and blankets piled around. 
 The party sunk at last to rest, 
 
 And sleep and darkness reigned profound. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Meanwhile, beneath the plunging flood. 
 
 The heralds of the river god 
 
 Reported strange intruder near — 
 A stranger bold and void of fear. 
 
 "Who," An-ne-mee-ke quick replied, 
 
 "Has thus my ancient realm defied? 
 Go forth, arouse the raging storm, 
 In fiercest terrors, blackest form." 
 
 Abroad at once the heralds went. 
 
 Upon their midnight errand bent ; 
 
 And soon the rolling thunder cloud, 
 Spread, far and wide, a gloomy shroud. 
 
 The winds let loose from " nether cave," 
 Drove mists above the ano;i'v wave. 
 
44 TEUCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 The sweeping blast an effort made, 
 To level low the forest shade. 
 
 Down poured a flood of drenching rain, 
 
 That, surging, rushed to river main. 
 The Manitou leaped up on high, 
 And bared his frontlet to the sky. 
 
 His gleaming eye was vivid flame ; 
 
 His thunder shook the starry frame: 
 Loud echoes bellowed thro' the air, 
 As if the gods were warring there. 
 
 Near by, upon a sturdy oak, 
 
 Went crashing down a thunder stroke: 
 
 The heavy, deafening, earthquake shock. 
 Let loose a mass of '' Table Rock," 
 
 Which, leaping — went, in ruin hurled, 
 
 Like wreck of a dissolving world. 
 
 As peal on peal upon them broke. 
 The Frenchmen and the chief awoke; 
 The chief, a statue, stood appalled. 
 The others on the Virgin called. 
 
 And, An-ne-mee-ke, one could see, 
 Fierce raging thro' the sky 
 
 The others, awful majesty — 
 The Majesty on high. 
 
 They stood and gazed. The vivid flame. 
 Alternate with the dark extreme, 
 
 As quick it went and quickly came, 
 Was frightful as a horrid dream. 
 
 And then that dread abyss below. 
 
 That lightning flashes quick reveal — 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 45 
 
 It yawns like pits of darkest woe, 
 
 That damned spirits deep conceal. 
 At last the thunders die away ; 
 The disappointed INIanitou, 
 Beholding all his terrors vain, 
 
 Withdraws into his darksome den; 
 And tho' the distant lightnings play, 
 The sulky winds, with much ado, 
 Eeturning to their caves again.. 
 Leave sweet repose to weary men. 
 
 I X. 
 
 As early woke the smiling morn. 
 
 The lightsome fleet was quickly borne, 
 
 Above the rapids, sweeping by. 
 
 Like time to long eternity. 
 The morning meal, at once prepared, 
 Among the hungry crew was shared. 
 
 The boats were loosened from the strand ; 
 
 Aboard was now the little band. 
 The oars were ready at the sides ; 
 Le Vareau and the chief the guides. 
 
 Up rose a sailor — stout La Coste; 
 
 He stept and quick his balance lost; 
 A moment reeled from side to side, 
 Then fell into the sweeping tide. 
 
 He lightly rises on the wave ; 
 
 All hands are quickly stretched to save. 
 No one can reach him : on he goes, 
 Deep fraught with overwhelming woes. 
 
46 TEUCHSAGRONDIE. 
 
 An oar is reached for him to clutch ; 
 
 The oar is just beyond his touch. 
 He goes, he goes ! O, all is lost ! 
 Farewell forever, brave La Coste ! 
 
 He rushes down the rapid stream, 
 
 Like winged thought om solar beam; V~ 
 
 Nor can his struggles aught avail, 
 When rocks and dashing waves assail. 
 
 Le Vareau lifts his voice on high, 
 
 To God of mercy in the sky — 
 To pardon, bless, and kindly sav^ 
 A mortal rushing to the grave. 
 
 The Mohawk sees, above the flood, 
 
 Fierce An-ne-mee-ke, angry god, 
 Enraged, that terrors of the night. 
 Have not the strangers put to flight. 
 
 A fearless gull he seems to roam : 
 
 And now he dips the dashing foam; 
 
 Anon he screams with wild delight, 
 
 So soon to sate his appetite. 
 The victim rises on the surge ; 
 He sends a loud, despairing cry, 
 
 That swells above the deafeninfr roar: 
 It is his last; — his funeral dirge. 
 It rolls along the vaulted sky ; 
 
 It echoes from resounding shore. 
 Ah, now the two from sight are lost! 
 
 Amid the surging, jilunging main; 
 The j-jioneer — the brave La Coste, 
 
 On earth shall n'er be seen asrain. 
 
THE EXPLORATION. 47 
 
 The first white man that met his doom, 
 
 In that insatiate, dread valhalla ; 
 How many since have sought its tomb ! 
 
 What myriads yet are there to follow ! 
 
 X. 
 
 With heavy heart the little crew. 
 Applied the oar and onward flew. 
 
 Beneath the morning's rising beam, 
 The navy cut the glassy stream. 
 The frighted duck from danger fled ; 
 The wild goose circled over head. 
 
 The shooting pike would oft display, 
 His form above the dashing spray. 
 The floating sedge apast them flies; 
 A broad expanse before them lies. 
 On either side — the forest green, 
 
 Enchanting to the view; 
 The tufted islands rise between. 
 The homes of Manitou. 
 The balmy air and nature smile, 
 While songs the heavy hours beguile. 
 
 XI. 
 
 The river passed, upon them breaks. 
 Another of the mighty Lakes. 
 
 They onward press a day or so; 
 
 They pass the li cad-land Abino. 
 
>rt^i 
 
 48 
 
 TEUCHSA GEONDIE. 
 
 For Long Point now they ply the oar, 
 
 And soon they reach the saudy shore. 
 
 The line is drawn with steady hand; 
 
 A sturgeon flounders on the strand ; 
 
 Which, soon dispatched, and on the fire, 
 Is all that hunger can desire. 
 
 X II. 
 
 The blazing orb of summer day, 
 
 Beneath the glowing west is set: 
 For blessing on the distant way, 
 
 The crew at evening prayer are met. 
 '■' Spirit of Life," the Mohawk cries, 
 '■'■ May tliy protection here arise; 
 
 Oh smile upon this desert shore!" 
 Le Vareau with uplifted eyes. 
 Invokes the Power above the skies; 
 
 " To Whom all praise forever-more."