THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 

 
 
 
AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 BY 
 
 KICIIAKD MEADE BACHE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE YOUNG WRECKER OF THE FLORIDA REEF," ETC. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 CLAXTON, REMSBN, AND HAFFELFINGER. 
 1871. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by 
 
 CLAXTON, REMSEN, AND HAFFELFINGER, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress. All rights reserved. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 COLLINS, PRINTER. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 I HE following Stories and Fables are 
 drawn from the ample stores of 
 material, at first the heritage of the red 
 man of America, and now the property of 
 the white man, who alone is capable of 
 giving them literary form. They have 
 many a time been told before by those who 
 have made a study of the mental traits and 
 productions of the aborigines. The changes 
 from the originals have been made with a 
 free hand, always with the view to affording 
 interesting and appropriate reading for the 
 young folks. 
 
 JVJ310566 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE HUNTER THAT KILLED THE KING OF THE RATTLESNAKES 9 
 
 lOLA AND THE KlNG OF THE BUFFALOES .... 19 
 
 THE HAWK AND THE TORTOISE 32 
 
 THE GOOD MOTHER 33 
 
 WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER . . . . .51 
 
 THE THREE CRANBERRIES 70 
 
 LELINA AND HER GREEN-PLUMED LOVER .... 71 
 
 KWASIND, THE FEARFULLY STRONG MAN . . , . 76 
 
 OLD WINTER AND YOUNG SPRING . . . . . 83 
 THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS . . . .85 
 
 MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGRE . . . ... 100 
 
 THE LYNX AND THE HARE 112 
 
 THE SCARLET SWAN . 113 
 
 THE STORY OF HARKA . . . . . . . 135 
 
 THE WHITE-FISH ... . . . . . . 143 
 
 THE HUNTER THAT JOURNEYED TO THE HOME OF THE SUN . 145 
 
 MOTHER KWAY AND HER BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER . . . 153 
 
 THE LINNET AND THE EAGLE . . . . . . 156 
 
 THE THREE MAGIC ARROWS 157 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 WASSAMO, THE FIRE-PLUME ...... 164 
 
 THE WIND AND THE DUCK 181 
 
 THE ILL-FATED LOVERS . . . . . . .182 
 
 PAUKEYTIS, THE WIZARD . . . . . . . . 185 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE MAIZE . . . . . . .199 
 
 CHASKE, THE WANDERER ....... 201 
 
 THE DEMON S COMPACT . 212 
 
 THE ROAD TO PARADISE . . . . . . 216 
 
 THE Two GHOSTS 218 
 
 BROKEN WING AND THE ORPHANED BROOD .... 224 
 
 THE BOY THAT SNARED THE SUN . 226 
 
 MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE . . 229 
 
THE HUNTER THAT KILLED THE KING 
 OF THE RATTLESNAKES. 
 
 ;HERE once lived in a deep valley of the 
 Alleghany Mountains an immense Rattle 
 snake. All the other Snakes called him Grandfather 
 and King, and brought him whatever he wished for 
 food, so that he never had to leave his home. He 
 wore on his head a bright stone, which glittered like 
 a star, and at night lighted the whole valley. This 
 stone was a charm ; for whenever a hunter happened 
 to stray into the valley and see the gleaming jewel, it 
 drew him nearer and nearer, until he came within 
 reach of the old Snake, who at once ate him up. Just 
 as, on summer evenings, a moth flies closer and closer 
 to a candle, until it rushes into the flame and is burned 
 to death, so was the hunter drawn by fate. 
 
 In this way the people who lived near there lost, 
 one after another, their bravest warriors. They did 
 not know what to do to get rid of such a terrible 
 neighbor. Their priest told them that whoever could 
 get possession of the stone which the King of the Rat 
 tlesnakes wore on his head, would destroy his power 
 
 2 
 
10 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and gain a talisman of wondrous virtue. But who 
 could be found daring enough to attempt such a feat? 
 
 Now, the Chief of the people had a beautiful 
 daughter, who was named Winona. Many young 
 warriors came from her own and other tribes to pay 
 their court to her, but she treated all of them so much 
 alike, that no one could flatter himself that he was the 
 favored lover. In her heart she cared for none of 
 them, for she had loved from girlhood the young 
 hunter Chepias. But her father disliked Chepias, 
 because he was poor, and had forbidden him to 
 come to the lodge, or to speak to Winona. 
 
 One day, the suitors, tired of waiting for Winona 
 to make a choice, asked the old Chief, her father, to 
 decide which of them he would select as his son-in- 
 law. When the Chief saw so many young men, he 
 thought it was a fine opportunity to get them to 
 attack the King of the Eattlesnakes, and secure the 
 charmed jewel the King wore on his head. There 
 fore he called all his people around him, and said : 
 
 " These young visitors have come to ask for my 
 daughter s hand. It is time that the girl were 
 married, but I will give her only to the bravest and 
 most skilful of all her suitors. This is the test I 
 propose : whoever shall bring me the shining jewel 
 which the King of the Rattlesnakes wears on his 
 head, shall have her for his wife. And if no one 
 
KING OF THE RATTLESNAKES. \\ 
 
 can do that, they may all go home, and my daughter 
 shall live and die an old maid." 
 
 When the suitors heard this, they were very 
 much put out. Some of them said, " We are not 
 going to be fools enough to be eaten up for the sake 
 of this old man s daughter: there are plenty of other 
 girls just as pretty as she is." So they went back 
 home. Others said, "We ll wait, and see if the 
 Chief don t change his mind, when he sees that no 
 one brings him the stone." Others, again, concluded 
 to attack the King of the Rattlesnakes. But when 
 they learned that he lived in a deep, narrow dell, 
 surrounded by hundreds of other Snakes, who bit 
 every man that approached, and then brought him 
 to their King to eat, they were frightened, and said 
 no more about going. Some few, however, armed with 
 bows and arrows, and clubs, went off to the moun 
 tains, swearing they would bring back the stone or 
 die. As they never came back, people did not know 
 whether the Snakes had eaten them, or whether they 
 had only been boasting, and had quietly returned to 
 their own villages, without even trying to find the 
 monster. 
 
 Chepias also had heard the old Chief, and when, 
 after a time, no one brought back the stone, he said 
 to himself: "I, too, might as well try to get the 
 jewel. If I should be killed by the Snakes, it will 
 
12 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 be no great matter, and if I conquer, I shall be rich 
 and happy all my life." 
 
 As he was a prudent young man, he determined 
 to take every precaution to be sure of success. He 
 remembered that in a cave in the woods, many miles 
 distant, lived a Magician whom, on several occasions, 
 he had furnished with game. Perhaps this adviser 
 might help him. 
 
 The day after he had made up his mind, he started 
 at daylight, and walked rapidly through the Forest. 
 By night he reached his old friend, and told him his 
 errand. 
 
 " I do not know that I can help you," replied the 
 Magician, " but I will do my best. Here is a bag," 
 he added, handing Chepias a small pouch made of 
 bird-skin, u in which are the most powerful charms 
 I have found during the seventy winters that have 
 passed over my head. It contains a horn of the 
 Horned Snake, a bone of the Lion that feeds on men, 
 a pine cone soaked in dew from the laurel tree, and 
 a piece of the vine that never bears grapes. Do not 
 use them until your own powers fail. They are 
 potent spells, and when you wish their aid, take 
 them from the bag, lay them on the ground, and 
 repeat these words : 
 
 Maiden in Green, 
 Ever near, tbo unseen, 
 
KING OF THE RATTLESNAKES. 13 
 
 Seven men every year, 
 Who venture in here, 
 The Rattlesnakes eat : 
 Save me from their fate, 
 For my danger is great, 
 And my life, it is sweet. 
 
 u Then a maiden with long green robes and bright 
 green hair will appear. It is she who every Spring 
 walks through the fields and woods, and paints the 
 leaves and grass, so green and pleasant to the eye. 
 Perhaps she can tell you how to conquer the King 
 of the Rattlesnakes. At least she is the most power 
 ful Spirit I can summon." 
 
 Although it left him so uncertain of success, Che- 
 pias, thanking the Magician for his gift, started for 
 the mountains. As he journeyed along day after 
 day, the Forest gradually grew thinner and thinner. 
 Scrubby pines and patches of naked rocks took the 
 place of the nut-trees and shady laurels he was used 
 to see. The birds no longer built their nests in the 
 branches, and there were no squirrels to chatter at 
 him from the tree-tops. Mountains with brown bare 
 slopes rose before him, and he soon recognized the 
 two summits between which was the deep valley 
 where dwelt the King of the Rattlesnakes. 
 
 About noon, one day, he reached its entrance. It 
 was steep and narrow, and on each side rose high 
 
 2* 
 
14 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 walls of rocks. On all the stones he saw huge 
 Rattlesnakes, with fangs an inch long, basking in 
 the sunshine. He could hear them rattle and hiss 
 as they moved about, waiting for some unfortunate 
 victim to come that way. Luckily they did not 
 notice Chepias, and he quickly hid himself in a 
 clump of bushes, to think what had best be done. 
 It was clear that it would be certain death for him 
 to go on, unless he should have some protection 
 against the poisonous teeth of the Snakes. He con 
 cluded, therefore, that this w r as the proper time to 
 use the charms which had been given him by the old 
 Magician. He took from the bird-skin bag the four 
 charms, and laying them on the ground, repeated 
 the verse: 
 
 " Maiden in Green, 
 Ever near, tho unseen. 
 Seven men every year, 
 Who venture in here, 
 The Eattlesnakes eat : 
 Save me from their fate, 
 For my danger is great, 
 And my life, it is sweet." 
 
 As soon as he had said this, the leaves of a thick 
 green bush near him folded themselves together, 
 and changed into the form of a beautiful Maiden 
 with long green hair and flowing green robes, which 
 
KING OF THE RATTLESNAKES.- J5 
 
 fell drooping around her, like the leaves on a stalk 
 of corn. She looked at Chepias kindly, and said : 
 
 " Warrior who boldly dares, 
 Lover who sadly fares, 
 "What would you of me, 
 The Maid of the Tree ?" 
 
 "Tell me," cried Chepias, "how I can snatch the 
 jewel from the head of the Snake-King, and win 
 Winona for mj bride ?" 
 
 " There is but one way," said the Fairy, " and I 
 tell it you, not because your spell obliges me, but 
 because you are brave and love her truly. Here are 
 a pair of moccasins, and a suit made of the skin of a 
 snow-white deer. They are charmed, and no snake 
 can bite through or even scratch them with his poi 
 sonous fangs. Take them, and at dawn to-morrow 
 put them on and walk boldly up the valley." 
 
 Chepias stooped to pick up the magic garments, 
 and when he rose the Maiden had disappeared. He 
 could see nothing where she had been, but the bush 
 with thick green leaves. 
 
 The next morning he dressed himself in the suit, 
 flung his bow and arrows over his shoulder, and 
 taking his club in his hand, boldly marched up the 
 valley. The Snakes shook their rattles as they saw 
 him coming, and said one to another : " Ho ! here is 
 a nice young man for our Grandfather to eat for 
 
16 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 breakfast!" When lie came near them, they struck 
 at him with their poisoned teeth, expecting to see 
 him fall down and die ; but what was their rage and 
 astonishment to find that they could no more pierce 
 his leggings than they could pierce the hard rock! 
 They snapped and hissed and rattled and bit, but it 
 was of no use: Chepias marched straight up the 
 valley, swinging his club among them, and not stop 
 ping to count how many he killed. 
 
 He had not gone far before he found the valley 
 widen and enclose a beautiful meadow, through 
 which ran a purling brook. Close by the brook 
 was lying a Rattlesnake as long and as thick as the 
 trunk of a tree. On its head was a stone about the 
 size of a hawk s egg, which glistened and glowed 
 like a coal of fire on a dark night. As Chepias 
 looked at it he felt strangely drawn towards it, just 
 as he supposed the little birds feel when they are 
 charmed by the glittering eye of the Rattlesnake. 
 He knew that this huge Serpent must be the one 
 that the Snakes called their Grandfather, and felt 
 that now had come the time to conquer or die. He 
 noticed that the King, though large, was feeble, and, 
 in fact, could hardly move his long body, for age. 
 Upon observing this, he grasped his club tightly, 
 and running alongside of the Snake, from its tail 
 to its head, came within reach of the stone, and hit- 
 
KING OF THE RATTLESNAKES. if 
 
 ting it a blow, knocked it quite over to the other 
 side of the brook. Then he jumped across, picked 
 up the stone, and ran down the valley before the old 
 Snake could recover from his surprise. 
 
 Chepias had no difficulty in getting away, for 
 when the stone was lost, the magic power of the 
 King of the Snakes went with it, and he soon died. 
 Chepias returned in triumph to his village. He 
 there found that his friends had supposed him dead, 
 for it had taken him all summer to make the journey. 
 The Maiden in Green had, however, whispered to 
 Winona that he was living, and still true to her, so 
 she was the only one not surprised. 
 
 The old Chief was delighted now to have Chepias 
 for a son-in-law, for the magic stone made its pos 
 sessor rich and powerful. Therefore Chepias and Wi 
 nona were soon married, and lived to be ever so old, 
 and had plenty of children. When they died, the 
 stone could not be found, and it was rumored that 
 the Maiden in Green came and took it away with 
 her. The people determined to find her and per 
 suade her to give it back to them, and went into the 
 woods in search of her. That is the reason why 
 they have never since been seen in street or field. 
 They went forth to hunt the Green Fairy, in the 
 leafy Forest, and on the broad grassy Prairie, and 
 
18 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 as they are still there, I do not suppose they have 
 found her.* 
 
 * The preceding, and one other Story, were written by DR. 
 DANIEL G. BRINTON, the author of " The Myths of the New 
 World," who, after having entered into collaboration for the pro 
 duction of this book of Stories founded on American Myths, was 
 for want of leisure unable to execute his portion of the work, but 
 who engages to make ample amends in a future edition. 
 
IOLA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES, 
 
 JGODAGAUDA was a little cripple. The 
 worst of it was that the halt in his gait gave 
 a funny twitch to his head, every time that he made 
 a step, so the poor fellow was not only lame, but 
 looked very ridiculous. For all that, Agodagauda 
 did not care a snap of his fingers, as long as he was 
 pleasing to his beautiful daughter, Tola ; for, strange 
 as it may seem, the impish-looking little man had a 
 beautiful daughter, and she thought her father the 
 handsomest man in the world. That was because 
 she loved him very dearly. Love, you will know 
 one of these days, if you do not know now, is what 
 makes other things beautiful, and is itself the most 
 beautiful thing in the world. 
 
 As Agodagauda and his daughter lived alone in a 
 desolate place, it made no great matter that he was 
 so ridiculous ; for he did not, of course, look ridicu 
 lous to himself, and to his daughter, as I said, he 
 was the handsomest man in the world. It made no 
 great matter, and that is the truth, and for the reason 
 I mentioned, that they lived alone; but they had 
 just a speck of discomfort in life, for, would you 
 believe it, so ridiculous was Agodagauda, that even 
 
20 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 the Buffaloes, the great clumsy beasts, used to jeer 
 at him, and, led by their King, keep prowling around 
 the house to carry off from the despised cripple his 
 beautiful daughter. 
 
 Agodagauda, the little cripple with the beautiful 
 daughter, had thought that she would not be safe in 
 an ordinary lodge, such as other people lived in, so 
 he had built a good strong house of logs, and there 
 he felt as safe as if he had been in a castle. Every 
 morning, regularly, when he went out a-fishing or 
 a-hunting, he used to say to his daughter: "Dearest 
 daughter, I go to provide food for us both, nothing 
 less could ternpt me to leave you, but oh ! have a 
 care, if not for yourself, for me, and trust not your 
 foot outside the lodge till my coming." One morn 
 ing he, as usual, thus cautioned his daughter, then 
 shouldered his fishing-rod, and started off to go to a 
 distant trout-brook. 
 
 Agodagauda had hardly got out of sight when 
 Tola thought to herself, girl-like, " It is very hard to 
 be always kept indoors, for fear of an evil that is 
 never likely to come. Now is the spring-time, I 
 hear the birds singing, and everything looks bright. 
 It is hard to stay here all day, every day, till my 
 father comes home. I should like dearly to go out. 
 But perhaps my father would be angry if I go, and 
 I love him, oh, ever so much, ever so much !" 
 
10 LA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 21 
 
 " Dear rne !" said she suddenly, " why did I not think 
 of it before ? I can get on the roof of the house, and 
 there I shall be perfectly safe, and there I can sit and 
 comb my hair, and listen to the birds, and watch the 
 trees waving, and the shadows falling, until my 
 father s return." 
 
 lola clambered up on the roof, and fixed herself 
 comfortably, and let down her long hair, which tum 
 bled in a golden cascade over the eaves of the house, 
 way down to the ground. There she sat, like a 
 beautiful statue, her little hands hovering like doves 
 over the golden stream glistening in the sunbeams 
 and rippling in the wind. Now and then her sweet 
 face rose above the surface, to discover if danger 
 were near, and then sank again. All of a sudden, as 
 she was at the height of her satisfaction in her pas 
 time and her fancied security, she heard a terrific 
 bellow, and hastily tossing aside her hair, saw the 
 King of the Buffaloes, at the head of his herd, charg 
 ing full tilt at the house. She was so terrified that 
 she had no power to move, and, in an instant, she 
 heard a crash, and fell fairly between the horns of 
 the King, who bore her away at a breathless pace, 
 her hair streaming wildly in the wind. Poor lola 
 was in such mortal terror at first, that she could but 
 cling with all her might and main to the horns of the 
 beast, and gaze around at the herd of Buffaloes that 
 
22 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 surrounded her, the very ground quaking beneath 
 their tread. They sped over the plains, mounted the 
 steeps, and swam the rivers to lola a countless herd 
 that stretched away as far as the .eye could reach. 
 Little by little did she collect her scattered senses, 
 and perceive that they were approaching a mighty 
 river, on the opposite bank of which was the Forest. 
 They soon reached the nearer bank, and plunging into 
 the river, swam it, and entered the Forest. There 
 they began to move along more and more slowly, 
 for they then felt safe, as they were in the Land of 
 the Buffaloes. By this time lola, who by nature was 
 a brave girl, had regained her courage, and was say 
 ing to herself: "If I do not mark the trail, I shall 
 certainly be lost. Over the plains, the hills, and 
 even the rivers, my father may be able to follow me, 
 but how can he find the trail over the deep bed of 
 leaves in the Forest ? It is night, and now that we 
 are walking along, I can mark the trail, so that my 
 father can find it." So lola every time that her 
 flowing hair caught in a twig, broke off the twig 
 and threw it on the ground, and, in that way, 
 marked the trail of the King of the Buffaloes. 
 
 After penetrating the Forest several miles, the 
 King reached his lodge, dismissed his followers, and 
 deposited his fair burden gently on the ground. He 
 then conducted her to a lodge which he informed 
 
TOLA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 23 
 
 her would be her resting-place for the night, and 
 who could tell how much longer! for he hoped 
 that when he presented himself before her in his 
 human form, and she knew him better, she would 
 love him. Poor lola retired with a very heavy 
 heart, and trying to keep up her courage by thinking 
 of the twigs scattered through the Forest. But she 
 soon found that she could not sleep, and as she 
 tossed restlessly to and fro, she heard the notes of 
 a flute, and soon knew that it was a serenade from 
 the King of the Buffaloes, who, in his human form, 
 in which he expected to appear so engaging on the 
 morrow, was seated outside the lodge, dolefully 
 piping a prelude on his flute: 
 
 " Tee ou ree too, 
 Tee ou ree too, 
 Tee ou roo roo, 
 Tee ou roo roo." 
 
 The King of the Buffaloes then heaved a deep 
 sigh, and sang one or two verses. Now, if there is 
 anything ridiculous in the world, it is the idea of a 
 Buffalo s playing the flute and singing a love-ditty, 
 and sighing; and as Tola had never seen her lover in 
 his human form, she fancied the King as she had 
 seen him, and if she had only felt a little safer, 
 could have laughed right heartily. As it was she 
 
24 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 did not laugh, but kept thinking of the twigs in the 
 Forest. 
 
 The King of the Buffaloes, after playing a few 
 more bars of music on the flute, croaked another 
 verse or two, and broke down, ending with a piteous 
 sigh like a groan, and then went back to the flute, 
 
 " Tee ou ree too, 
 
 Tee ou ree too, 
 
 Tee ou roo roo, 
 
 Tee ou roo roo." 
 
 Tola almost caught herself in a little titter, and 
 she began to feel her courage rise. For, she thought 
 to herself, " If the King of the Buffaloes is in this 
 soft condition, he is not to be much feared at pre 
 sent." Then, as the serenade ceased, she became 
 grave again, and thought again of the twigs strewn 
 all through the Forest, and of her dear father, who, 
 long before that time, must know that his lola was 
 lost. 
 
 The next morning, early, the King of the Buffa 
 loes appeared in his human form at the door of Tola s 
 lodge. But his face was so shaggy, he was such a 
 brutish-looking man, that Tola would have much 
 preferred him in the form of a beast, as one cannot 
 help thinking of some people that are to be seen in 
 the world. Tola concealed her repugnance, and re 
 strained herself so far as to appear to receive with 
 
10 LA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 95 
 
 indifference the advances of the King, who, on his 
 part, did everything possible to please his lady-love. 
 He conducted her to the women s lodges, and gave 
 orders that she should be served with whatever 
 might gratify every caprice. He himself, resuming 
 his buffalo shape, went out hunting, so as to procure 
 some dainty that might please her palate, thus, in 
 every way that he could think of, trying to make 
 himself agreeable. 
 
 But it is high time now that we should go back 
 to poor Agodagauda, and see what became of him 
 after leaving his lodge to go to the brook. He had 
 hardly threaded the fly on his hook, and begun to 
 sweep the water, before he heard the voice of one of 
 his old tormentors singing at him in a jangling 
 verse : 
 
 " You limping old manikin, 
 
 Don t you think it a sin, 
 
 To pen up your daughter, 
 
 Say, Agodagauda ? 
 
 To pen up your daughter ! 
 
 Do you think she is in ? 
 
 Do you think she is in ?" 
 
 Agodagauda turned and looked about him, but 
 he could not see a living thing. Just back of him, 
 as he had been standing, was a thicket impenetrable 
 to the sight. He felt sure that one of his old ene 
 mies, the Buffaloes, had stationed himself there to 
 
 3* 
 
26 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 torment him. As he had left his bow and arrows at 
 home, he picked up a stone and threw it into the 
 edge of the thicket, at the place whence the voice 
 had seemed to come. He thought that he heard a 
 rustling, and then all was again still. He determined 
 not to give the Buffalo the satisfaction of thinking 
 that he minded him in the least, so he turned towards 
 the brook, and began trolling his line to tempt a 
 trout to rise at the fly. Hardly had he turned, how 
 ever, before the same voice began to sing again in a 
 jeering tone: 
 
 " You limping old manikin, 
 Don t you think it a sin, 
 To pen up your daughter, 
 Say, Agodagauda ? 
 To pen up your daughter ! 
 Do you think she is in ? 
 Are you sure she is in ?" 
 
 Gradually Agodagauda ceased walking to and 
 fro, playing the fly over the surface of the brook, 
 and gradually his hand stopped, and he fell into a 
 musing fit, and did not see fly, nor brook, nor any 
 thing else. Just then a trout darted at the fly, seized 
 it, and bore away in triumph both it and the line. 
 Agodagauda, without so much as a glance at the 
 brook, threw his fishing-rod over his shoulder, and 
 turned his steps homeward, repeating to himself in a 
 
IOLA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 27 
 
 low tone, "are you sure she is in." A crash and a 
 rush were heard in the thicket, as if some great ani 
 mal were breaking a passage through in retreating, 
 as Agodagauda strode quickly towards home. He 
 reached it, and saw at a glance what had happened. 
 You would have thought, had you seen him take 
 hold of the fallen logs and toss them aside, that 
 Agodagauda was looking for his daughter under the 
 ruins, or else had gone mad. But Agodagauda was 
 not looking for his daughter, and he knew very well 
 what he was about. After he had thrown a great 
 many of the logs aside, he crawled under the ruins, 
 and crawled out again, holding his magic pouch 
 between his teeth. Pie put his hand into the pouch 
 and drew forth a pair of old moccasins, such a poor 
 looking pair of old moccasins, you would not have 
 picked them up in the street. But Agodagauda 
 knew that they were worth more than the most 
 handsomely embroidered moccasins that ever were 
 seen. A friend of his, a great Magician, had given 
 them to him, on condition that they were not to be 
 used except in the direst need of his life. The moc 
 casins were Goblins that could leap a hundred yards 
 at a stride. Agodagauda soon had them laced, and 
 away they went with him, over hill and dale, each 
 Goblin trying to outleap the other. It was easy 
 enough, as lola had thought, to keep the trail over 
 
28 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 the plains, and tbe hills, and even the little rivers, 
 over which the Goblins bounded as if whisked 
 through the air ; but at last Agodagauda, with his 
 two zealous friends, reached the bank of the mighty 
 river which bounded the Land of the King of the 
 Buffaloes. The river was at least a mile wide, and 
 the Goblins could not leap it, and Agodagauda could 
 not swim it, as, since the herd of Buffaloes had 
 passed, a skim of ice had formed on the water. So, 
 Agodagauda had to wait on the bank that night and 
 the next day, until the ice became stronger, all the 
 while tormenting himself by thinking how he should 
 ever be able to find the trail in the great black 
 Forest beyond. 
 
 As soon as the ice was strong enough, Agoda 
 gauda crossed the river, and stopping at the edge 
 of the Forest, took off his moccasins, for, so dense 
 was the growth, he would otherwise have been 
 dashed to pieces by the first leap of one of his Gob 
 lin friends. It was night, but Agodagauda easily 
 found the place on the bank, where the whole herd 
 of Buffaloes had scrambled out of the water, and he 
 followed the trail to the edge of the Forest; but as 
 soon as it entered, it was lost in the thick bod of 
 leaves. Then Agodagauda wandered about to the 
 right and to the left, seeking the lost trail, arid almost 
 despairing, when he caught sight of a gleam on the 
 
10 LA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 29 
 
 ground, like a glow-worm s, and going in that direc 
 tion, picked up a twig to which was fastened some 
 of the shining hair of his daughter. Agodagauda 
 gave a cry of delight, and the Goblin moccasins 
 leaped joyfully in his pockets. He went on through 
 the Forest, following the trail from one golden gleam 
 to another, until at last he got to the village of the 
 King of the Buffaloes. He advanced stealthily from 
 lodge to lodge, darting across from the shadow of 
 one to the shadow of another, till he found himself 
 at the lodge of the King. Here he saw his woebe 
 gone daughter seated in the presence of her lover, 
 who was in his human form. Agodagauda crept for 
 ward so that the light from the door should fall on 
 him, and so that only his daughter could see him. 
 She started, but said quickly to the King, by way 
 of accounting for her movement, u I will go and 
 draw some water." She rose and left the lodge, 
 joined her father, and, hand in hand, they fled into 
 the Forest. 
 
 Tola s saying to the King of the Buffaloes, that 
 she would go get some water, had a peculiar mean 
 ing. It was in token of submission to his will, 
 that she offered to perform a household duty. So, 
 the King of the Buffaloes hugged himself with joy, 
 and Tola had been gone a long time before he roused 
 himself enough to think that she had not returned. 
 
30 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 When, after waiting with a very bad grace some 
 time longer, he found that still she did not return, 
 he began to stride up and down impatiently, and 
 then to fume about the lodge, and at last he sallied 
 hastily forth to seek his mistress. But lola was 
 nowhere to be seen. The King instantly flew into 
 a rage, and shouted to his followers the alarm. Obe 
 dient to his summons, they rushed from their lodges, 
 and ranged themselves about him in his form of 
 leader of the herd. They started off with a bellow 
 that made the Forest thrill, and poured in a horned 
 avalanche down towards the river. 
 
 But, by that time, Agodagauda had got across, 
 and with his daughter clinging to him, the Goblins 
 were leaping along with him, a hundred yards at a 
 stride. The Buffaloes crossed the river, scrambled 
 up the bank, and redoubled their speed. The race 
 was on the plain, and now the contestants were in 
 full sight of each other, Agodagauda leaping along 
 a hundred yards at a stride, and the herd in a com 
 pact mass, headed by their King, pressing hard in 
 the rear. But Agodagauda had, without his know 
 ing it, other aid near, besides the Goblins. As the 
 herd reached a clump of trees about midway in the 
 plain, a great band of hunters, lying in ambush, sent 
 a shower of arrows among them, and stretched many 
 out on the ground. The rest halted, wheeled, and, 
 
10LA AND THE KING OF THE BUFFALOES. 3] 
 
 headed by their King, retreated pell-mell to the 
 Forest. There, some were content to remain, but 
 not the King. So enraged and mortified was he at 
 his defeat, the loss of Tola, and the death of so many 
 of his followers, that, accompanied by the greater 
 part of the herd, he did not even halt, but kept 
 straight on foaming towards the far West, whence 
 he has never to this day returned. 
 
THE HAWK AND THE TOETOISE. 
 
 HE Hawk once bantered the Tortoise to race 
 with him. The Tortoise declined to race, 
 except for a very long distance half-way around 
 the world. The Hawk, of course, agreed to the dis 
 tance, thinking that, with his speed, it would be an 
 easy matter to beat the Tortoise, were the distance 
 long or short. The Tortoise, however, did not count 
 on his speed, but on his knowledge, his diligence, 
 and, above all, on the excessive confidence of his 
 opponent. 
 
 They started exactly together. The Hawk, 
 feeling that he had everything his own way, 
 flapped idly along, hither and thither, while the Tor 
 toise, on the contrary, after glancing ahead, and 
 perceiving his opponent almost out of sight, quietly 
 slipped into a hole, and making the best of his speed 
 through the centre of the earth, came out on the 
 other side, just in time to see the Hawk as far short 
 of the goal as he had been seen beyond the starting- 
 point. 
 
THE GOOD MOTHEK, 
 
 YOUNGr girl once lived all by herself in the 
 Forest, until it chanced that, when she least 
 expected it, she got a husband. 
 
 For a long while she did not know who was 
 courting her. Every morning regularly, on rising, 
 she found at the door of her lodge a present of the 
 choicest venison, such as no one but a skilful hunter 
 could always procure. At last she determined to 
 watch, and see what sort of a looking man her lover 
 was, who, of course, had often managed to see her. 
 At daylight, the very next morning, she peeped 
 through a crack in her lodge, and saw, as she 
 thought, the handsomest young man that could be 
 in the world, come and hang up near her door a 
 haunch of venison, and then, whistling softly to his 
 dog, slip quietly away into the Forest. 
 
 The young girl fell in love at first sight, and 
 passed the whole day in a waking dream about her 
 handsome lover, provoked with herself for not hav 
 ing long before taken the trouble to find out who he 
 was. By the time that the shades of evening fell, 
 she had made up her mind that she would no longer 
 keep him in suspense, but, on the next day, would 
 
34 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 appear before him ere lie could retrace his steps into 
 the Forest. She felt that it would look bold in her 
 to throw open her door and appear on the threshold, 
 so she concluded to go a little way off from the 
 lodge, and meet him as if by accident. 
 
 At day-dawn, the next morning, she stood shrink 
 ing behind a big tree, as he advanced to her lodge 
 and hung up the usual present. He quickly reen- 
 tered the Forest, and might have gone away without 
 seeing the girl, had it not been for a real accident. 
 Just at the moment when she had intended to appear 
 before him, her courage gave way, and feeling quite 
 faint, to keep herself from falling she grasped at a 
 low bough of the tree behind which she was hiding. 
 She missed her aim, and fell to the ground, insen 
 sible. When she came to herself, what should she 
 see but her handsome lover kneeling beside her, 
 bathing her temples, and speaking to her in the 
 tenderest accents. 
 
 Soon the young people married, and from that 
 time forward, the hunter came with his trusty dog, 
 and lived in the lodge which had formerly belonged 
 to his wife. 
 
 The hunter was almost as handsome as she thought 
 him, so you may imagine him to be a very handsome 
 young man, straight as an arrow, and fleet as a 
 deer. As for the dog, who in the story will turn out 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 35 
 
 a much more important character than his master, 
 he was a clumsy pup, with paws so big that he was 
 always stumbling over them, and eyes that looked 
 like black diamonds twinkling under his shaggy 
 hair. He was very fond of his master, and of his 
 master s wife, but he never was so fond of anyone 
 as he was of a little son that was born to them in 
 due course of time. While his master was out 
 hunting, and his mistress was away getting fuel, 
 Unnemoosh would lie fast asleep by the baby in the 
 cradle, then sometimes getting up on his haunches, to 
 take a look at it, as though it had been his own flesh 
 and blood, would blink away at it until he let himself 
 plump on the floor, and again fall fast asleep. At 
 last the hunter arid his wife began to call the dog 
 the baby s foster-brother. 
 
 All went well with the young married couple, 
 the baby, and the dog, until one morning, when 
 there stopped at the door of the lodge a horribly 
 ugly old woman, with such a broad face and puffy 
 bent body, with such long skinny arms and feet, that 
 she looked like a great squat toad. Unluckily, as it 
 turned out, the hunter was away from home. His 
 wife, although very much frightened, gave the old 
 woman a seat, set before her the best viands in the 
 lodge, and answered with the best grace she could 
 summon, all her questions. At length the old woman, 
 
36 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 after having eaten her fill, went grumbling away, 
 and the dog, who had growled at her all through her 
 visit, growled after her to the door, and until she 
 had got out of sight. 
 
 When the old woman had been gone for at least 
 an hour, and the hunter s wife had pretty nearly got 
 over her fright, she suddenly bethought her that she 
 must go to the woods for fuel, so she said to Unne- 
 moosh, pointing to the door, and making a face, 
 " Watch the baby, that s a good dog ; and if the old 
 woman comes back, bark for me, and bite her as fast 
 as ever you can till I come." Urmemoosh wagged 
 his tail, looked wise, as though he had understood 
 every word, and was left sitting up on his haunches, 
 watching the baby in the cradle. 
 
 The hunter s wife had hardly got out of sight, 
 when who should appear at the door of the lodge 
 but the very same ugly old woman. She rushed at 
 the cradle, and caught it up under her left arm, and 
 would have carried it off in a trice, with the baby in 
 it, had it not been for the dog, who seized one side, 
 and held on growling and tugging with all his might 
 and main to get it away. The dog and the old 
 woman tugged and tugged, and pulled each other all 
 over the lodge, and the dog could not find a moment s 
 time to bark. At last the piece of the cradle which 
 the dog held in his mouth broke off, and the old 
 
THE GOOD MOTHhR. 3* 
 
 woman snatched the cradle away, and holding it up 
 high in the air over her head, darted out of the lodge, 
 with the dog at her heels, barking as loud as he 
 could to call his mistress. But his mistress reached 
 the lodge only in time to see in the distance, on top 
 of the farthest hill, the old woman striding along 
 at an astonishing rate, with the dog still scampering 
 after her, and worrying her heels at every step that 
 she took, and then she fell to the ground in a swoon. 
 The hunter returned home at nightfall, and his 
 wife told him all that had happened how the old 
 woman had appeared and gone, and then returned 
 and managed to carry off the child, although the 
 dog had fought bravely, as proved by the piece bit 
 ten out of the cradle, and what she had seen as 
 he chased the old woman over the hills. She told 
 her husband that she thought the first thing to be 
 done was to consult a friendly old Wise Woman 
 whom they knew. The husband agreeing that that 
 would be the best course, the wife set out the next 
 morning to the lodge of the Wise Woman, about 
 three days journey off. In a week she returned 
 and gave her husband an account of her visit. The 
 Wise Woman had said that the old woman was the 
 Witch, Mukakee Minedemoa, who had spent all her 
 life in child-stealing, just for the sake of wickedness; 
 and that to get the ba.by back, its mother would have 
 
 4* 
 
38 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 to go to the End of the Earth. "You must journey 
 ever so far," said the Wise Woman, " till you come 
 near the End of the Earth, to the Land of the No- 
 koes, the kindly old Grandmothers, and then if you 
 are worthy, three of them, who are Fairies, will aid 
 you." "And," said the husband, "will you go? will 
 you journey to the End of the Earth?" " Oh, will 
 ingly," exclaimed his wife; "a good mother will 
 always go to the End of the Earth for the sake of 
 her child ! Stay here and keep the lodge from 
 being robbed or destroyed, and I will go to-morrow." 
 The next day the young wife, after bidding her 
 husband an affectionate farewell, started on her jour 
 ney. It turned out to be much longer than she had 
 expected, but she was not discouraged. She travelled 
 for days and weeks and months and years, before she 
 reached the Land of the kindly old Nokoes, near 
 the End of the Earth. Sometimes she met good 
 people, and sometimes bad, and sometimes people 
 who were neither one nor the other, but all sorts of 
 shades between. She found that the world is mostly 
 made up of these, and also that, take it all in all, there 
 is rather more good than evil in it. So, gaining 
 wisdom every day, she got steadily on, having to 
 bear a good deal, but, feeling that she became all 
 the better for it, and enjoying a little, and feeling 
 that for that she ought to be thankful, if she should 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 39 
 
 succeed in the main object of her life. At last, after 
 fifteen years of hard travel, she learned that she 
 was approaching the Land of the kindly old Nokoes, 
 and was pretty near the End of the Earth. She 
 went on all the faster, and soon arrived in that coun 
 try, which is an awfully barren place, covered with 
 hillocks of sand, on which grow a few stunted pines. 
 Occasionally she saw at a distance, to the right or to 
 the left, the lodge of an old Noko, but as in going 
 there, she would have lost time, she did not swerve 
 from her path, but kept straight on. After she had 
 gone one day s journey through the Land of the 
 Nokoes, she saw on the next morning, in the dis 
 tance, right on her way, a lodge perched on the top 
 of a glistening sand-hill, and as she drew near, was 
 astonished at seeing a tall old Noko, gaunt and 
 withered with age, whizzing around with her staff 
 in her hand, trying to beat off a hawk that was 
 pouncing upon her. She ran up quickly and soon 
 rescued the old woman, who turned towards her and 
 said: "Honey, I am Noko Kemotch; I know who you 
 are you need not tell me. One who is a good 
 mother, and is kind and respectful to those who 
 dwell near the End of the Earth, deserves help, and I 
 will do what I can for her. Take these moccasins ; 
 they will carry you faster than you can walk, to the 
 lodge of Noko Wagokeek. There set them down, 
 
40 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 pointing their toes homeward, and they will return 
 of themselves." 
 
 The Good Mother thanked Noko Kemotch very 
 much, and putting on the moccasins, was about to 
 start again on her journey, when Noko Kemotch said, 
 " If Mukakee Minedemoa ever presses you hard, and 
 you cannot escape, cry out, May the snakeberry 
 vines spring up and trip her! " 
 
 The moccasins whisked away with the Good 
 Mother, and stopped with her at the lodge of Noko 
 "Wagokeek, who was even more aged and infirm than 
 Noko Kemotch. As she advanced, she saw Noko 
 Wagokeek with her back turned towards her, hob 
 bling after her chickens, to drive them into a coop, but 
 the old Noko turned slowly around and said, "There 
 is no use of your telling me who you are, honey ; I 
 know all about you. A good mother, and one who 
 is kind and respectful to those who dwell near the 
 End of the Earth, deserves help, and I will do what 
 I can for her. Here is a pair of moccasins that will 
 take you to the lodge of Noko Nelokon. When you 
 get there return them as you did Noko Kemotch s. 
 Noko Nelokon will tell you what you must do and 
 one word more, if Mukakee Minedemoa ever presses 
 you hard, say, May it rain as if the bottom of the 
 sky had tumbled outl : 
 
 The Good Mother thanked Noko Wagokeek, just 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER, 41 
 
 as kindly as- she had thanked Noko Kemotch, and 
 putting on the moccasins, they whisked away with 
 her to the lodge of Noko Nelokon, who being much 
 nearer the End of the Earth than either of the other 
 Nokoes, was still more aged and infirm, being bent 
 almost double with age, and unable to speak above 
 a whisper. Her visitor found her hobbling up and 
 down before the door of the lodge, enjoying the sun 
 shine. The old Noko, beckoning her to come near, 
 drew her head down, and whispered in her ear: "I 
 too, will do what I can for a good mother, and one 
 who is kind and respectful to those who dwell near 
 the End of the Earth. I could lend you just such a 
 pair of moccasins as those of which I see you turn 
 ing the toes towards Noko Wagokeek s lodge, but 
 you have no need of them; Mukakee Minedemoa 
 lives just beyond here, for bad as she is, she is 
 nearer than I to the End of the Earth. Now listen 
 to me, honey. You must put up a lodge near hers ; 
 your dog will find you out, and all will happen for 
 the best. Farewell, and remember, if ever you are 
 hard pressed by Mukakee Minedemoa, to throw a 
 flint and a steel behind you, and say, May the flint 
 and the steel keep her forever ! r 
 
 The Good Mother thanked Noko Nelokon just as 
 kindly as she had thanked Noko Kemotch and Noko 
 Wagokeek, and went her way. She advanced cau- 
 
42 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 tiously, and had not gone above half a day s jour 
 ney, when she came in sight of Mukakee Mine- 
 demoa s lodge. After peeping through the trees, 
 and making certain by seeing Mukakee herself come 
 to the door, she went back a quarter of a mile into 
 the woods, and built a lodge of cedar boughs for a 
 shelter while she was obliged to stay in that country. 
 She had not long to wait, for the very next day, as 
 she was peeping through the boughs that formed her 
 lodge, who should pass by but her son hunting, and 
 by his side, the faithful Unnemoosh, now somewhat 
 clumsy with age, as he had formerly been clumsy 
 with youth. The Good Mother s heart leaped to her 
 mouth as she recognized her boy by his likeness to 
 his father. Eunning outside of her lodge, she sud 
 denly appeared before him. But he merely glanced 
 at her, and was passing his way, when the dog 
 coming up, snuffed once or twice at her dress, and 
 then bounded joyfully around her, sometimes placing 
 his paws on her breast and licking her face. The 
 lad halted in surprise, and said, " My good woman, 
 how have you bewitched my dog, who never before 
 cared for any one but me?" " You are mistaken," 
 replied the Good Mother, all in a tremble ; " he knew 
 me and loved me before you were born. See here," 
 she continued, putting her hand in her bosom and 
 drawing forth a beautiful piece of wampum, all blue 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 43 
 
 and white (the piece of cradle which she had always 
 treasured), "do you know this? I see you do not; 
 yet it is a bit of the cradle in which you lay, until 
 you were stolen by the wicked Mukakee Minedemoa, 
 in spite of that faithful dog, the marks of whose teeth 
 you can see to this day on the wampum. I, my poor 
 boy," added the good mother, advancing to embrace 
 him, u am your mother." 
 
 "My good woman," answered the lad, shrinking 
 from her, "do you expect me to believe such a 
 story, just because my dog has taken a fancy to you, 
 and you show me a pretty piece of wampum with a 
 few marks on it that might have been made by a 
 dog s teeth or by a thousand other things? My 
 mother is Mukakee Minedemoa, and I was born and 
 have always lived here." 
 
 " Well," said the lad s mother, sadly, " you will 
 have to believe it, and I must be content to wait till 
 you do. Go home to the lodge of Mukakee Minede 
 moa, and pretend to be sick, and when she asks you 
 what she can do for you, say, Give me a sight of 
 the cradle in which I was swung when a baby. " 
 "I will," promptly replied the lad, and with that he 
 strode off through the woods, followed by the dog 
 barking and yelping joyously. 
 
 As the lad neared home he slackened his pace, 
 and came walking up very slowly to the door of the 
 
44 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 lodge. Entering, he threw himself down on his bed 
 and complained of feeling sick. At first, Mukakee 
 Minedemoa did not heed him, not thinking that 
 much ailed him ; but when evening came and he 
 had not yet got up, she began to be alarmed, and 
 asked him what was the matter. But he replied, 
 " Mother, why am I so different from the rest of 
 your children ?" Thinking that he was feverish and 
 flighty, Mukakee Minedemoa replied, as though to 
 humor him : " There was a bright blue sky the day 
 you were born, and that is the reason why you are 
 so fair but, I say, what ails you? what can I do 
 for you ?" " mother," replied the lad, "I feel as 
 if it would do me good to see the cradle in which I 
 was swung when a baby." Mukakee, thinking that 
 this was a sick person s whim, went off and brought 
 the cedar cradle of one of her children. But the lad 
 said: "I feel sure that that is not it." Then Muka 
 kee fetched the cedar cradle of another of her chil 
 dren. But the lad said again : " I feel sure that that 
 is not it." So, in turn, Mukakee showed him the 
 cedar cradles of her four ugly children, just like 
 herself; but still the lad said, every time, "I feel 
 sure that that is not it." At length Mukakee brought 
 him the beautiful wampum cradle, and he saw at a 
 glance that the piece of blue and white wampum 
 which the woman in the woods had shown him was 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 45 
 
 exactly like that in the cradle, and would fit exactly 
 in a break on one end of it. So he said to himself, 
 " Sure, this is it," and then aloud, as if he were 
 drowsy, and did not wish to be disturbed, " Oh, yes ! 
 I guess that is it ; it is prettier than the others." 
 
 The next day the lad sallied forth, as if to hunt; 
 but instead of hunting, he hastened to the cedar- 
 bough lodge of his real mother, and threw himself 
 into her arms, and stayed there a long time, caressing 
 and consoling her. At last he told her that he 
 must be going, or else Mukakee might find them 
 out; and that, before returning home, he would 
 shoot a fat buck, of which he would try to bring her 
 some of the meat. Before night he had shot a 
 fat buck, which he as usual laid down at the door of 
 Mukakee s lodge. On this occasion he said, " Mother, 
 there is a poor woman in our neighborhood, living 
 all alone in a lodge of cedar boughs, and I should 
 like to give her some of this meat." "No, indeed," 
 replied Mukakee, sharply, " the nasty old widow ! 
 I have heard of her sneaking about for a husband : 
 I suppose she would like to catch you." So, 
 instead of allowing the lad to carry some of the 
 venison to his mother s lodge, Mukakee waited until 
 the night was quite dark, and then, taking a lot of 
 tainted meat, stole up to the lodge, and flung it in at 
 the door. 
 
46 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 The lad and his mother now saw very plainly 
 that if they hoped to escape, Mukakee Minedemoa 
 must be got out of the way for some time. So the 
 lad went out hunting to a distant part of the cQuntryj 
 where, having shot a very large and fat bear in the top 
 of a pine -tree, he f skinned -it just where it st uek, and 
 then trirnming off the ; branches Of the tree, so that 
 it could be seen for miles air round nbou t, he ;: Gut 
 put its tongue as 1 a; trophy,- and, returning home, 
 told Mukakee that h-e had killed so big a bear that 
 he- could not bring it home; < " I will go fetch \M^ 
 said Mukakee. - That was just what the lad wanted, 
 but to make s tire; that she would go,- he said, "Oh, it 
 is very far off r too far for you to fetch it." " I should 
 like to see the place," replied Mukakee, "that would 
 be too far for me to go get a thing 1 Want.". Off 
 she started after thabear, and she was hardly out of 
 sight before the good mother and her son, and his 
 foster-brother, the dog, all ran away as fast as ever 
 their legs could ; carry them. > too i 
 
 : Mukakee Minedeinoa r after a long journey^ reached 
 the pine tree, and began to climb -it to get the bear!. 
 But the Sun, which hud been very hot while lMu-ka> 
 kee<,was:bn her journey, had caused the bear-grease 
 to trickle down -the tree, until it was as slippery as 
 ice, and a<fc first Mukakee could scarcely. climb above 
 the ground, After a while, when she had, -worn off 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 47 
 
 some. of the, grease,. she : managed; to get-up higher 
 Sometimes she would climb half .way upland some 
 times n.early to the top, and then xiome .sliding all 
 the W;ay down to. the bottom. It was not until all 
 the grease had soaked; into her .clothes, or run : ofiT 
 the tree into the ground, that, she . was : able to get the 
 bear, and ifc was so heavy that it took her several 
 days to Jug it home,l,<i: ; - 
 
 Meanwhile, all this; time, the, Gtiod Mother and her 
 $on and the dog,, had had :a; long start of the old 
 Toadwoman, : ; wh6; no sooner i reached home and 
 learned how sheihad been tricked than she: flew, into 
 a rage, and taking .her four children rwith her, started 
 in - -pursuit ,of the , party. They had. .gone as!,fast.<as 
 they could towards home, the mother and her son in 
 advance, and the dog as a guard in ;the rear. On the 
 evening of the fifteenth day, the dog came panting 
 up to the mother, and her son, and made signs to 
 them that the old Toad woman; was coming. SQJ- in 
 stead, of resting >that ;night, they hurried on y and )by 
 morning felt that they were pretty safe. But, at sun 
 rise, the dog joined them again, and made signs that 
 the old Toad woman was catching up to them. ; And 
 sure enough, he had hardly done .so, when they 
 caught sight of her, followed by her four ugly chil 
 dren, coming over the top of a distant hill. 
 
 "Oh, heavens!" cried the poor mother, ready to 
 
48 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 drop with fear, "what shall I do?" "Use one of the 
 charms the Nokoes gave you," said her son. "Sure 
 enough," said his mother, "I forgot may the snake- 
 berry vines spring up arid trip her!" No sooner had 
 she spoken these words than the whole country be 
 hind her was covered with scarlet vines. The fugi 
 tives could see the old Toadwoman and her children 
 tripping and stumbling and tumbling over the vines, 
 until at last the children, getting cross, would not 
 stir a step farther, but remained where they had last 
 fallen, picking and eating snakeberries. The old 
 Toadwoman herself, after trying in vain to whip 
 them along, began to pick and eat the berries, of 
 which she was excessively fond. The three fugitives, 
 taking advantage of this, got over a great many miles, 
 and were rejoicing at their escape, when up came the 
 dog, making signs that the old Toadwoman and her 
 children were fast gaining ground. 
 
 Now, between the place where the Good Mother and 
 her son stood, and the hill over which the old Toad- 
 woman and her children were coming, was a pretty 
 wide stream, which had run so dry as to show in 
 places its rocky bed. The Good Mother, casting a 
 glance at it, suddenly exclaimed, u May it rain as if 
 the bottom of the sky had tumbled out !" The rain 
 poured, and in five minutes the little stream had be 
 come a torrent : the old Toadwoman and her child- 
 
THE GOOD MOTHER. 49 
 
 r en rushed up to the brink, but could not get, across;. 
 Meanwhile the fugitives had taken, another start, and 
 were many miles farther on, their journey, and begin 
 ning to feel quite safe again, when* up came the dog 
 for the fourth time, and/ showed by" signs that the old 
 Toadwoman had got across ;the stream and was nearer 
 than ever. : Soon they caught sight of her and her 
 children, :and hurried along, as fast as they could. 
 But it was of no use; the.old iToadwoman and. he? 
 children were fast catching up to them, } "Hand me 
 your flint and steel," said the Good Mother to her 
 son, and casting them from her, down ., the hill on 
 whkjh she was standing, the. foot of which the.old 
 Toadwoman and her children. had just reached, she 
 cried: "May the flint and the steel keep her forever !" 
 The steel spread into a mirror, all over the side of 
 the hill, and the flint rolled in millions of fragments 
 down to the foot. Over the sharp flints the old 
 Toadwoman and her children, who could not stop 
 themselves, went cutting their feet and ankles, and 
 rushed half way up the smooth surface before them ; 
 but when they were there, they could not get either 
 forward or backward, but, all in a line, pranced away 
 before the mirror, as if dancing with their reflections. 
 The Good Mother and her son and the dog pursued 
 
 the rest of their journey in peace. With her son it 
 
 5* 
 
50 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 was much easier than before for the Good Mother to 
 get through the world, so in only five years from the 
 time when she began her homeward journey, she 
 reached the lodge in the Forest, and threw herself 
 into the arms of her overjoyed husband. They all 
 lived there for many years afterward, without any 
 thing to mar their happiness, save the death of the 
 faithful Unnemoosh, who, when he returned, had 
 already reached a very advanced age. 
 
 As for the old Toadwoman and her children, who 
 were left on the steep mirror of steel, they stood there 
 tumbling, scrambling up, and prancing away on it, 
 trying, but unable to get forward, and afraid to let 
 themselves slide back, for fear of being dashed to 
 pieces at the bottom ; and for all that I know to the 
 contrary, they may have been there to the day of 
 their death they richly deserved it. 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER, 
 
 [HE old people and the children of a tribe 
 sat on a hillside, looking down upon a level 
 spot, on which were congregated the youths and war 
 riors preparing to contest the prize in running, when 
 six burly Giants, with as many stripling sons, stalked 
 down upon the race-course, and resting the butts of 
 their clubs upon the ground, scowled upon the as 
 sembly. On the instant, dismay and silence took the 
 place of merry chat and laughter. The old people 
 huddled together, with fearful sidelong glances and 
 earnest whispers, while the youths and warriors, 
 slowly retiring to the place where they had left their 
 arms, cautiously prepared for a conflict which they 
 were too prudent either to bring about or hasten. 
 With grim pleasure the Giants enjoyed for a minute 
 the dread inspired by their presence, when one of 
 them advanced from their ranks, and poising his club 
 in mid-air, dashed its butt into the ground, then care 
 lessly resting his elbow on the handle, and crossing 
 his legs, glanced contemptuously around, and thus 
 addressed the people : 
 
 "Let this be the goal, and yonder peeled tree the 
 turning-point in the race which we propose our six 
 
52 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 sons against the whole of yours the forfeit, the death 
 of the defeated." 
 
 There was no reply. 
 
 "What, ho!" shouted the giant spokesman, in a 
 voice that made the ground tremble; "are ye turned 
 towards? We offer, hear ye not; to match our sons, 
 six in number, against, the whole of yours. Ye are 
 silent still i Miserable pigmies that, with the aid of 
 cunning, have since the creation fof the World pre 
 sumed to measure yourselves against us, we offer 
 you fair terms and odds, yet ye decline the contest." 
 
 The Giant ceased and glared around. Silence 
 reigned for a few minutes, when from the hillside 
 came in answer the shrill treble of an ancient of .the 
 tribe, who, advancing to the front, thus spake: 7 c-v 
 
 "Men of a black-hearted race, your terms are 
 never fair. The odds, which: now ye pretend to 
 give, are far outweighed ;by those with you. Yet 
 beware at your peril attempt our injury. Before 
 my aged vision float away the clouds .that veil the 
 ^Future, and I see afar a white-plumed warrior of 
 this tribe lay in the dust your pride: and insolence> 
 Beware, I say, if at that day ye must crave mercy." 
 
 The Giants roared in concert, " Ha, ha, ha !" as 
 though it had thundered in the valley, and then their 
 spokesman, after glancing around at his comrades, 
 shouted, "We take the risk I" 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 53 
 
 The six best runners of the tribe were in succes 
 sion matched against the Giants sons. But in vain 
 did they contend for victory, the fleetest did but turn 
 the peeled tree before his competitor had reached 
 the goal. As each of the defeated approached the 
 goal, his brains were dashed out by the club of one 
 or other of the Giants. At the death of the third, 
 the tribe could bear the dreadful ordeal no longer. 
 From the old people rose a wail of anguish, and from 
 the youths and warriors a yell of frenzy and defiance. 
 A flight of arrows followed, and then a scene of the 
 wildest confusion. The old men and women, snatch 
 ing up the children, fled, while the youths and war 
 riors, in straggling groups, began to retreat. Deal 
 ing blows right and left with their massive clubs, 
 the Giants plunged among the latter, who, to cover 
 the flight of the old men and women and of the chil 
 dren, continued doggedly to fight as they retreated, in 
 an opposite direction, towards the Forest. The un 
 equal combat soon ended. The Giants, with the loss 
 of two of their sons, dead, and with the whole of the 
 remainder of their band wounded, remained masters 
 of the field, strewn with their enemies, of whom the 
 survivors had scattered in every direction. 
 
 Five days had passed, when, fifty miles from the 
 scene of the conflict, an old man, bearing on his 
 shoulders a pretty boy of four years of age, toiled 
 
54 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 through a mountain. pass. The old man and: the boy, 
 grandfather and grandson, were two of those w;ho had 
 escaped while the youths and warriors made, the 
 stand which cheeked pursuit. ,;-. eiU ;< 
 
 The old man, on reaching the highest; ; point of the: 
 pass, just "before the descent on the other: side of: the 
 mountain* range .began, gently , lowered j the burden 
 from, his ^shoulders, and sat down to rest his weary 
 trembling limbs, at the same time taking the little 
 fellow between , his knees, and; pressing his chubby 
 cheeks together, ; and speaking to him. words of good 
 cheer, v We, are nearly there," said the old: .-man, in 
 conclusion; "/do not.frek" Yet, in spite of what he 
 said, he had from time to time cast uneasy glances in 
 the direction whence he had come, and; before long 
 he rose stiffly to his feet, and leading his grandson by 
 the hand, began the steep desc ent on the other side of 
 the mountains. Before sunset they were lost to view 
 in the depths of the distant Forest. ludfj&t&.T 
 
 The old man knew not what had become of rthe 
 other survivors of his tribe. Too -old, feeble, and 
 timid to attempt to rejoin the scattered remnants, he 
 was content to know that with his beloved grandson he 
 had escaped the slaughter,, and to be able : to -build a, 
 lodge in the recesses of the Forest, and there live with 
 the child. There, the child, too young to retain aught 
 but a dreamy memory of events, and purposely kept 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 55 
 
 in ignorance by his grandfather, grew into a tall, 
 athletic youth, brave and beautiful. 
 
 When the boy had reached ten years of age, his 
 grandfather, thinking that it was time for< him to ac 
 quire :skill in warlike exercises, gave him vbow and 
 arrows, and ; after teaching himi to shoot at a mark, 
 sent him into the Forest to hunt. On the first day 
 the iboy did not venture far, but acquitted himself 
 very well, and: brought back ; in triumph a rabbit. 
 His : grandfather praised him for his skill, and the 
 next day that the boy went a-hunting, he brought 
 back a partridge. He continued to acquire skill, and 
 shoot higher and higher gam ej until he killed deer, 
 .moose, -elk, and even- bear. It was natural that, as 
 he gained confidence, he should roam farther and 
 farther from his, grandfather s lodge, and so it hap 
 pened, that he iwas sometimes .absent for two or three 
 days.: On one occasion, he had gone a very long dis^ 
 tance from, homeland had come to . the edge of a 
 prairie, when he saw piles of ashes and some standing 
 lodge-poles, where an encampment had been. As 
 tonished at the- sight, he: returned home at once, and 
 said, " Grandfather, :wa are not the only people in the 
 world. I saw on a prairie dead fires and standing 
 lodge-poles.": But- his grandfather . answered: "It 
 must have been your imagination;, or else some mali 
 cious Spirit made you see what was not there." 
 
56 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 The youth attained manhood, and then roamed 
 fearlessly over the mountains and through the Forest, 
 killing what game he pleased, and supplying his 
 grandfather with food, for now the old man had 
 become very decrepit. No animal was too swift or 
 too fierce to escape him, and the old man doted more 
 and more every day on his brave and beautiful 
 grandson. So great was the old man s love that, 
 although he believed it to be returned, he dreaded 
 more and more, the older he grew, the day when his 
 grandson should discover that they two were not 
 the only people in the world. 
 
 Yet it was decreed that, when the time came, the 
 youth should know all. One sultry afternoon he left 
 his grandfather asleep in their lodge, and retiring to 
 a cool nook on the edge of a grove, and lighting his 
 pipe, began to smoke. Drowsiness benumbed his 
 faculties, when suddenly, between two puffs, a vision 
 showed him the assembled tribe, the Giants coming, 
 their challenge, the reply, and, lastly, his grand 
 father s flight. As he roused, and the next puff 
 ascended, lo! it changed to flocks of pigeons, blue 
 and white. " The meaning is," he murmured, u that 
 I shall be a famous hunter." Then floating upward, 
 from successive puffs, the smoke, massing, coursed 
 over the tree-tops in giant forms that were outpassed 
 by those of pigmies, when, bursting its bonds, it sent 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILL9R. 57 
 
 out filmy wreaths and slowly dissipated in the air. 
 " The meaning is," he murmured, " that I shall be a 
 mighty warrior, shall defeat the Giants in the race, 
 and avenge the slaughter and dispersion of my tribe." 
 The pipe, almost exhausted, sent upward a few faint 
 puffs that, collecting, formed a little cloud which on 
 a sudden wafting downward, fell at the youth s feet 
 a white plume. Springing up, he seized and placed 
 it on his brow, and with joy sparkling in his eyes, 
 turned to seek his grandfather. But there, slightly 
 withdrawn from sight, and clasping his hands in 
 silent misery, the poor old man stood. " O my 
 boy," said he, " forgive me if I weep at what gives 
 you joy, but to me your greatness means loss of you, 
 the bitterest woe." 
 
 "Not so, grandfather," returned the youth; "you 
 shall be happier than you have ever been. Let me 
 go speedily and avenge my tribe, and prove my 
 gratitude to you." 
 
 The night was far spent before grandfather and 
 grandson, grudging each moment before the parting, 
 sought their repose. On the following morning the 
 young man, after listening respectfully to the wise 
 admonitions which his grandfather delivered for his 
 guidance, and being locked in a warm embrace, 
 which he as warmly returned, set forth upon the 
 
 6 
 
58 * AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 adventure which his vision had foretold. He crossed 
 the mountain range by the very pass through 
 which, as a little boy, sixteen years before, he had 
 been borne on the shoulders of his grandfather, and 
 on the morning of the third day afterward, ap 
 proached the abode of the Giants, vast lodges situ 
 ated in a dense and gloomy wood. 
 
 One of the Giants, who was a Magician, knew 
 that he was coming, and the Little Spirits that Carry 
 the News had borne it throughout the land. So, as 
 he approached the Lodges of the Giants, he saw here 
 and there little clusters of people gathered on the 
 high rocky places along his route, and as he came in 
 sight of the wood, he discovered at the edge many 
 Giants standing, and among them the six of whom he 
 was in search. The Giants, on their part, kept bellow 
 ing at him from afar: " Where is the white-plumed 
 warrior who is to do wonders, avenge his tribe, and 
 restore to them their hunting-grounds ? We cannot 
 see the little fellow." But all the while that they 
 jeered at him, and vaunted themselves, they were 
 sorely afraid, and did it to keep up their spirits, for 
 they felt the dread of an impending fate. 
 
 When White Plume had reached a place where 
 he could make his voice heard by the Giants, ranged 
 towering along the outskirts of the wood, he stopped, 
 and planting one end of his bow in the ground, 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 59 
 
 shouted in a clear voice almost the same words that 
 the Giant had uttered in his challenge of sixteen 
 years before : 
 
 "Let this be the goal, and yonder charred tree 
 the turning point in the race which I propose I 
 against the Six the forfeit, the death of the de 
 feated." 
 
 The six Giants quaked, and looked one to another, 
 and then frowned wrathfully upon the young man. 
 But they could not break the spell ; so their spokes 
 man, lifting up his voice, roared like a tempest: 
 " Agreed. Each day at this hour, beginning now? 
 one of us will race with thee." 
 
 The Giants champion of the day stepped forth 
 from their ranks, and stood, toeing the mark, side 
 by side with White Plume. At the signal for the 
 start, they dashed off together, and scoured over the 
 prairie, like the wind. But White Plume s short step 
 could not match the Giant s enormous stride: he 
 was being fast left behind, w^hen he threw over 
 the Giant s head a loop of vine, invisible to all 
 but himself, and tripping him, sent him whirling 
 forward, stunned, upon the ground, and easily came 
 in winner at the goal. Then he cut off the Giant s 
 head, and arnid the distant feeble shouts of the groups 
 collected on the high rocky points around, retired 
 to a place of security, and there passed the night. 
 
60 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Each day, for the four succeeding days, White 
 Plume raced with one of the Giants, and each day, 
 by means of the invisible loop of vine, overthrew 
 and defeated him, and, cutting off his head, retired 
 to the place which he had selected to pass the nights, 
 and there awaited the time of the morrow s exploit. 
 On the morning of the sixth day, but one Giant of 
 those who were to compete with him remained alive 
 the Magician, who had determined to beg some 
 respite for the purpose of preparing for his race, 
 but, in reality, for the purpose of practising his 
 magic arts, to replace the heads of his comrades on 
 their shoulders and thus restore them to life. But, 
 although White Plume agreed to grant the Giant 
 some respite for preparation, he insisted on bearing 
 to his grandfather, as a token of his victory, the five 
 heads which he had secured. Giving the Giant a 
 week s grace, he set out on his return, bearing off 
 the heads in triumph. 
 
 On the evening of the third day after his depart 
 ure, he reached home, and laying at his grandfather s 
 feet the token of his victory, recounted his adven 
 tures. The old man gave him much additional good 
 counsel, and White Plume, after passing the night at 
 the lodge, set out for the Giant-Magician s abode. 
 
 So eager was he to reach the place and complete 
 his victory, that he used his best speed, and, on the 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 61 
 
 morning of the second day, came in sight of the 
 gloomy wood. Feeling wearied, he threw himself 
 upon the ground, propping his head on a mossy 
 stone beneath a shady tree. Whether he slept, or 
 whether he was between sleeping or waking, he 
 could not say, but on the summit of a gnarled, top 
 less trunk before him, and blending with it, seemed 
 the breast and countenance of a venerable man with 
 flowing white beard and hair, and a voice, seeming 
 to issue from his lips, this warning spoke: 
 
 " noble youth, that never yet 
 One of the gentler sex hath met, 
 More deadly than the treacherous snake, 
 A foe awaits thee in yon brake ; 
 A maiden brighter than the day, 
 Thine only weakness would betray. 
 Avert thine eyes, nor lend thine ear 
 To scan her beauty, or to hear. 
 Transform thyself into a brute, 
 And stand aside, severely mute, 
 Look but again upon her face, 
 Defeat attends thee, and disgrace." 
 
 White Plume started, sat up, rubbed his eyes, 
 and gazed earnestly at the topless trunk, the same, 
 apparently, that he had seen throughout ; but the 
 venerable face and form, lingering, seemed to melt 
 
 6* 
 
62 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 into the surrounding air, and in their place a mesh of 
 long, gray, tangled moss floated idly in the breeze 
 White Plume rose to his feet and hastened towards 
 the race-ground. He was passing through a little 
 grove, and beginning to flatter himself that his reso 
 lution would not be put to the test, when suddenly a 
 beautiful woman stood in the path before him. He 
 halted speechless, his senses all in confusion, and 
 gazing ardently upon her, so much more strange and 
 beautiful than anything that he had conceived was 
 she, as she stood in her floating drapery, airily twin 
 ing her arms, motioning him to approach. 
 
 He summoned up all his resolution, and wishing 
 himself transformed into an elk, took that shape, and 
 turning his back upon her, began to browse upon 
 the juicy herbage. But,.as he thus stood, striving to 
 distract his attention, the same beautiful form present 
 to his mind, a soft voice burst forth into a torrent of 
 reproaches mingled with avowal of the deepest love. 
 White Plume could not withstand the trial, to the 
 point of resisting the temptation to glance between 
 his fore-feet at the lovely being. On the instant his 
 resolution fled : he wished himself again in his natural 
 shape ; in which, seizing his fair temptress around the 
 waist, he bore her to a mossy bank, where, placing 
 her, he threw himself down beside her, and caress 
 ing her, swore eternal love. Engaged in these en- 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 63 
 
 clearments, and forgetful of everything else, sleep 
 finally overcame him, he laid his head on his mis 
 tress s lap, and sank into profound repose. 
 
 Now, the beautiful woman was the sixth Giant, 
 who, by means of his magic arts, had assumed that 
 shape, in order to mislead and destroy White Plume. 
 No sooner, therefore, had the Giant assured himself 
 that White Plume was sound asleep, than, snatching 
 the feather and placing it in his own frontlet, and 
 rudely pushing aside the head that lay in his lap, he 
 resumed his natural shape, seized his club, broke 
 White Plume s back with a single stroke, trans 
 formed him into a hound, and whistled him out of 
 the grove. In this degraded condition White Plume 
 was obliged to follow his giant master. 
 
 Two young maidens, sisters, and the daughters 
 of the powerful Chief of a neighboring village, had 
 learned through the Little Spirits that Carry the 
 News, that a young warrior, named White Plume, 
 destined to greatness, had appeared, and after destroy 
 ing six huge Giants, was approaching their country. 
 They were each so anxious to obtain White Plume 
 for a husband, that, in order to meet him the sooner, 
 they had occupied two lodges on the route by which 
 they had heard that he was advancing. 
 
 The Giant with his dog soon reached the lodges 
 
64 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 in which the girls were living. The elder, imagining 
 that White Flame was a vain man, had lavished 
 great display upon her lodge, while the younger, 
 imagining him to be a sensible man, had attempted 
 no display whatever. The elder sister s charms and 
 riches captivated the Giant, who became her hus 
 band, while the younger one was forced to content 
 herself with sheltering the Giant s dog. 
 
 The girls determined that, before returning to 
 their village, they would take some rest. While 
 they rested, the Giant was to amuse himself with 
 hunting. He imagined that whoever possessed the 
 white plume possessed also the skill and power of its 
 rightful owner ; but he was much mistaken, for he 
 returned unsuccessful from every expedition. Mean 
 while, he observed that his dog procured abundance 
 of game. He set to work to watch the dog, and that 
 very day saw him drag out of the river a stone, 
 which instantly became a beaver. Waiting until 
 the dog had gone, he went down to the place on the 
 bank which the dog had left, and dragged out of the 
 river a stone, which also became a beaver. Tying 
 the beaver to his hunting-belt, he returned home, 
 and as he was about to enter his lodge, unslung the 
 belt and threw it, with the beaver, down outside the 
 door. After talking awhile with his wife, and men 
 tioning his success, he requested her to bring in his 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 65 
 
 belt with, the beaver on it. She went, and returned 
 with the belt, to which hung only the stone. 
 
 The next day the dog, who the day before had 
 seen that he was watched, and that his mode of 
 catching beavers had been discovered, went into the 
 woods and broke from a tree a charred limb, which at 
 once turned into a black bear. The Giant, who was 
 lurking behind a tree in the woods to discover what 
 the dog was about, waited until he had got out of 
 sight, and broke off a charred limb, which likewise 
 turned into a black bear. The Giant slung it to his 
 belt, and took it home ; but when his wife went at 
 his request outside of the lodge to look at it, she 
 found fastened to the belt nothing but the charred 
 limb. 
 
 The Giant, however, secured the game that his dog 
 captured, and persuaded his wife into believing that 
 the dog s power was derived from him, and also ex 
 plained away the singular circumstances attending 
 his own hunting. His wife, being a silly thing, was 
 easily persuaded out of her own wits, and soon be 
 gan to think that it was high time to visit her father, 
 the Chief, and present to him her husband, White 
 Plume, the mighty hunter and warrior, and, by way 
 of enhancing the brilliancy of her own good fortune, 
 tell what sorry luck her sister had had in being con 
 tent to share her lodge with the Giant s dog. 
 
66 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 No sooner had the pair departed than the dog 
 made earnest signs to his kind mistress to give him 
 a vapo.r bath. She complied, and put him in the 
 furnace used for the purpose, closed the entrance 
 with a stone, and left him there for an hour. When 
 the stone was removed from the entrance, out stepped 
 White Plume, restored to his youthful bloom and 
 beauty, himself in all respects, except that he had 
 not regained the power of speech. He threw himself 
 at the feet of his protectress, and mutely signified his 
 devotion to her. 
 
 Meanwhile, the elder sister had reached the house 
 of her father, and had told him all about her own 
 adventures, and the exploits which the Giant had in 
 vented for himself; not omitting to mention her sis 
 ter s ill-luck, and her menial employment of tending 
 the Giant s dog, which had wonderful skill in hunt 
 ing. The Chief, seeing that there was some magic 
 in the dog s skill, sent a party of warriors to bring 
 the girl and the dog before him. They were aston 
 ished to find, instead of the dog described, the dumb 
 warrior, White Plume, who, with his wife, accom 
 panied them to the presence of the Chief. 
 
 The Chief assembled all the old and wise men of 
 the tribe to witness the feats which his elder daugh 
 ter had told him that her husband could perform. 
 The Giant trembled when, among the young warriors, 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. gf 
 
 he recognized White Plume, as sound in the back as 
 though it had not been broken by his club, when be 
 trayed by him in the shape of a beautiful woman. 
 
 The Chief, taking a pipe and filling it, passed it 
 first to the old men, then to the young men of the 
 tribe. White Plume s and the Giant s turn came 
 next. The pipe was offered to White Plume. He 
 made a sign that it should first be handed to the 
 Giant. The Giant took it and smoked, but nothing 
 happened. Then White Plume, rising from his seat, 
 strode across the open space around which the people 
 were gathered, snatched the white feather from the 
 Giant s head, and placed it on his own, and raising 
 the pipe to his lips sent forth clouds of smoke, which, 
 changing into flocks of pigeons, blue and white, 
 swept with the rush of many wings far beyond view. 
 
 At the same moment, regaining his speech, he 
 turned on the Giant and said, " In the likeness of a 
 cur, take thy departure." Instantly the Giant took 
 that form, and was hooted and pelted out of the vil 
 lage by the boys. Kesuming his natural shape on 
 reaching the Lodges of the Giants, he, by his account 
 of White Plume s power, inspired them with so great 
 a dread, that they removed thousands of miles away 
 to escape his vengeance. 
 
 After the Giant s flight, the Chief demanded that 
 White Plume should recount the story of his life 
 
68 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and adventures. White Plume forthwith consented, 
 and for an hour thus entertained the assembled 
 people. At the conclusion, he rose in his place, and 
 addressing the Chief, said that it was fit they should 
 celebrate their release from the power of the Giants. 
 The Chief assenting, White Plume called for a buf 
 falo hide, and, cutting it into scraps, scattered them 
 over the prairie. He then commanded the young 
 men to prepare their bows and arrows. As soon as 
 they stood with their arrows fitted to the string, and 
 their bows bent, he clapped his hands, and on the 
 prairie immediately uprose an immense herd of buf 
 faloes. Great numbers of them were slaughtered by 
 the young men, who pressed around them and 
 hemmed them in on every side. Then there were 
 great rejoicings, and a feast was declared in honor 
 of the great hunter and warrior, White Plume. 
 
 Near the end of the festivities, White Plume, 
 taking his wife by the hand, led her to the Chief, her 
 father, and craved permission to go with her to visit 
 his grandfather. The Chief consenting, White Plume 
 and his wife withdrew from the joyful assembly, and 
 journeyed to the lodge of the grandfather. The 
 old man wept with joy at recovering his grandson, 
 and hearing of his good fortune; and forsaking the 
 lodge in the Forest, accompanied him to the village 
 
WHITE PLUME, THE GIANT-KILLER. 69 
 
 of the Chief. White Plume soon set out from the 
 village and gathered together his tribe, which, with 
 that of his wife, he, on the death of her father, ruled 
 over happily to the day of his death. 
 
THE THREE CRANBERRIES. 
 
 |HREE Sister Cranberries, one red, one white, 
 and one green, lived together. Snow was 
 lying on the ground, and they felt wretched and for 
 lorn. a What shall we do, should the Wolf come?" 
 said one of the Sisters. " I," said the green Cran 
 berry, "will climb up into the spruce tree." "I,", 
 said the white one, " will hide myself in the hominy 
 pot." " And I," said the red one, " will hide under 
 the snow." But only one of them had been wise. 
 The white one was devoured with the hominy, with 
 out the Wolf s even knowing that she was there; 
 the red one was, on account of her color, easily dis 
 covered, arid her blood shed upon the snow; but the 
 green one, being up the tree, out of sight and out of 
 reach, was the only one that escaped. 
 
LELINA AND HER GREEN-PLUMED LOVER, 
 
 ELINA, the lovely daughter of a great hun 
 ter who lived near the foot of the High 
 lands of Naigow Wudjoo, on the shores of Lake Supe 
 rior, was from her earliest years observed to be unlike 
 children of her age. She seemed to shrink from her 
 boisterous playmates, and, plunging into the dark 
 shades of the Forest, or into the gloom of some vast 
 cave, or else perched on a high rocky point of the 
 Lake, often sat with her elbows resting on her knees, 
 wistfully gazing into the distance, as if seeking 
 something, ever seeking something, something but 
 half known. 
 
 The gossips began to prate about her, to say 
 that she frequented deserted places to meet her 
 Familiar Spirit. But little did Lelina care, indeed 
 little did she know, what the gossips said about her. 
 Listlessly she sat at home, and eagerly repaired to 
 her haunts, and gazed, gazed as if seeking something, 
 something but half known. If one might judge by 
 the frequency with which her footsteps led thither, 
 of all her haunts none was so dear to her as the 
 Pines called Manitowak, the Charmed Grove. There, 
 they say, dwell the Sprites and Fairies, of whom, at 
 night, by the sparkling light of the Fire-Flies, some 
 
72 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 few mortals have caught a glimpse. But these for 
 bear to revisit the place even by day, let alone on 
 purpose to see the nightly spectacle. The Sprites 
 and Fairies dislike to be approached in their abodes 
 and revels, and if they are, either disappear, or else 
 punish the rash intruder. 
 
 By daylight Lelina used to stray through the 
 Charmed Grove, sit on some mossy stone, dip pearly 
 pebbles from the brook, and cull the wild flowers 
 that had sprung where fairy footsteps in the merry 
 dance the night before had tripped the greensward. 
 Her parents, lest some malicious Sprites should play 
 a prank upon the dreamy girl, in revenge for her 
 roamings over their chosen spot, often tried to dis 
 suade her from going thither : but in vain they tried. 
 Beneath the gloomy Pines, stretching away like 
 columns in a great Cathedral, arched with inter 
 lacing boughs, resounding with Nature s sad music, 
 Lelina, bold in her guilelessness, strayed, or sat at 
 the foot of her favorite Pine, a stately trunk with 
 broad, spreading top, still with her eyes fixed on 
 vacancy, wistfully seeking something, something but 
 half known. 
 
 When the girls played their games before the 
 doors of the neighbors lodges, Lelina would sit 
 quietly by without joining them, or would play, but 
 with so little zest, that the least of the merry group 
 
LELINA AND HER GREEN-PLUMED LOVER. 73 
 
 would whisper to her companions, "Lelina must be 
 in love." But whom did she love, what did she love, 
 if it were not the hills, the caves, and beyond all, the 
 woods, arid of all spots in the woods, the shade of 
 the graceful Pine ! True, a suitor, favored by her 
 parents, appeared at the door of Lelina s lodge 
 nightly, as the Sun had run his course, and sat there 
 side by side with her, in view of the peeping Stars, 
 or the full bold face of the Moon. But the Stars tired 
 of peeping, and the Moon, seeing nothing, moved 
 away, as Lelina sat silent beside her lover, gazing 
 wistfully, seeking something, something but half 
 known. 
 
 Lelina s parents, sure at last that she must be 
 under the influence of some evil spelj, and wishing 
 to break it, resolved to hasten her marriage. The 
 day was fixed, the guests were invited, and not until 
 then was Lelina told that she must wed the suitor 
 of her parents choice. She heard the news in silence, 
 and, as soon as she could escape, fled to the Charmed 
 Grove, where she threw herself down by the Pine. 
 As she leaned against its trunk, she fancied that 
 she heard the whisperings of its leaves gradually 
 shape themselves into words. Listening attentively, 
 she heard herself thus addressed : 
 
74 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 " Now may the long-pent words be spoken, 
 
 Now may be solved the mystery ; 
 Maiden, thou the spell hast broken, 
 That bound the Spirit to the Tree. 
 
 " Oft when beneath my sheltering arm, 
 
 I ve held thee gainst my rugged breast, 
 And shielded thee from every harm, 
 And lulled thee into gentle rest, 
 
 " And all around the whispering air, 
 
 Breathed of a mystic love of thee, . 
 
 Twas I, my dearest, that was there; 
 
 Thou lovedst me bound, still love me -free." 
 
 The startled maiden, half risen from the ground, 
 saw the trunk of the Pine open, and a noble youth, 
 with a bright green plume floating above his brow, 
 step lightly forth into the Forest. She knew him, 
 as one knows the end of a melody, from the strain 
 that went before. No need was there now to look 
 wistfully for something but half known the light 
 of love shone in her eyes, her waist was encircled 
 by her lover s arm, and her head reclined upon 
 his shoulder. 
 
 On the morning of her wedding-day, Lelina in 
 joyous mood presented herself in bridal attire before 
 her father and mother. Eejoiced to see her so gay, 
 they encouraged her frolicsome humor, and took it in 
 
L EL IN A AND HER GREEN-PLUMED LOVER. 75 
 
 jest when she exclaimed, " I am going to meet my 
 green-plumed lover, who waits for me in the Grove. 
 I am going to the lover who watched and guarded 
 me in childhood and in youth. Farewell, farewell, 
 father and mother," she added, and skimmed lightly 
 away. 
 
 Not until the time appointed for the wedding 
 had arrived, did the absence of Lelina cause alarm. 
 Night approached, and still there were no signs of 
 her coming. Her parents and the neighbors, bearing 
 flaming torches, searched the shores of the Lake, and 
 every nook in the Grove not a trace of Lelina 
 could be found. They shouted her name, but nothing 
 replied save echo, or silence. The next day, and the 
 next, and the next was the search continued in every 
 direction; but in vain, in vain did they search for 
 the lost Lelina. Never, never more was she spoken 
 to by human being; only once was she seen. One 
 night, long afterward, as a party of fishermen, spear 
 ing salmon near the Grove, were looking towards 
 shore, they saw a female form standing by the water s 
 edge. They paddled gently towards it, but no sooner 
 did they approach, than it fled into the Grove, through 
 which it was seen to glide away side by side with a 
 noble youth over whose brow floated a bright green 
 plume. 
 
KWASIND, THE FEAEFULLY STRONG MAN, 
 
 JJAUWATING was the name of a village 
 where, in the olden time, the youths amused 
 themselves much in out-door sports, in ball-playing, 
 racing, shooting at a mark, and in many other games 
 of skill, strength, or endurance, or of all those com 
 bined. One day, as they were engaged in a trial of 
 strength in lifting, a certain youth, when his turn 
 came, slipped, and fell plump on his back. All the 
 rest set up a shout, hallooing out, "Ah, ha! you ll 
 never make a Kwasind." The youth was very much 
 chapfallen at his accident, and the ridicule of his 
 companions, and as he was on his way home, the 
 expression which they had used kept dinning in his 
 ears "You ll never make a Kwasind you ll never 
 make a Kwasind." He cudgelled his brains to recol 
 lect whether he had ever heard that name, and to 
 imagine what his companions had meant, but at last 
 he gave up in despair. He thought to himself, " I 
 will ask the old man of our village: he has lived 
 so long, and is so wise, he must know." As soon as 
 he reached the village, he went to see the old man, 
 and found him seated in front of his lodge. " Grand 
 father," said he, respectfully, " can you tell me who 
 
KWASIND, THE FEARFULLY STRONG MAN. 77 
 
 Kwasind was?" " Sit down, my sou, beside me, 
 replied the old man, kindly, "and I will tell you all 
 about him. Why, certainly I know who Kwasind 
 was !" And this is the old man s story : 
 
 " Kwasind was a very idle boy, so lazy that he 
 would not even play. At length his mother, who 
 had borne most with him, got out of all patience, 
 and said to him one day, I should like to know 
 where there is any lad of your age that does so 
 little for his parents ! You will not lay a hand to 
 anything. You will not hunt nor fish, and your 
 poor old mother has to set her own nets in the ice 
 all through the coldest winter. What are you good 
 for? But I will stand it no longer! Go this instant 
 and wring out the net that I have just hauled out of 
 the water, and then hang it up to dry ! 
 
 " Kwasind saw that there was no use of trying 
 to get off by making excuses, so he walked slowly 
 away to the shore, where he knew the net was lying. 
 He leisurely rolled it up, doubled the roll, and 
 doubled it again, and then, after pausing a moment, 
 wrung it as though it had been a dishclout. Every 
 particle of water was squeezed out of the roll, and it 
 snapped in the middle, as though it had been made 
 of spun glass. Now the secret was out ; everybody 
 now knew why it was that Kwasind had seemed to 
 be so lazy : he had been afraid to take hold of any- 
 
Y8 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 thing, for fear of breaking it to pieces. His mother 
 and father, you may be sure, never again asked him 
 to help them. 
 
 " One day, not long after this, the youths of the 
 village were playing at ball on a plain where was 
 lying one of those big black boulders which, as 
 the story goes, Manabozho, the great Day-Spirit, 
 had flung in the fight with his father. Kwasind 
 walked up to it, and plucking it from the ground, 
 and poising it for a moment in the palm of his hand, 
 sent it whirling into the river, which gulped it down, 
 and streamed around it in a whirlpool. The com 
 panions of Kwasind felt so uncomfortable at this 
 display of strength, that they stopped their game of 
 ball, and returned to the village, whispering to each 
 other as they went, Did you ever see anything like 
 that? Who on earth is as strong as Kwasind? 
 
 . " Kwasind, soon after accomplishing this feat, 
 went on a hunt, with his father, to a distant mountain. 
 They came at last to a gorge" in which had been 
 heaped the trunks of pines and firs torn by the 
 blast from the mountain sides. We shall have to 
 go round, said Kwasind s father, halting. He seated 
 himself on a rock, and taking out his pipe, filling, 
 and lighting it, began to smoke, as the readiest 
 means of enabling him to make up his mind whether 
 to go to the right or to the left. But, as the old man 
 
K WA SIND, THE FEAR FULLY STR ONG MA N. 79 
 
 sat on the stone, puffing and puffing away, and think 
 ing which would be the best course to take in going 
 around, what was his astonishment to see Kwasind 
 walk up into the gorge, and, first with one hand, 
 and then with the other, fling the pines and firs back 
 up the mountain sides, until the gorge was all clear, 
 and then stroll back to where he was sitting, not so 
 much as out of breath ! Well, well, well ! said 
 the old man to himself, Kwasind is not so useless 
 after all! 
 
 " After many adventures, Kwasind and his father 
 returned home, and soon afterward, they two, and a 
 party of young men, all in canoes, started to hunt 
 the Beavers. One day, as the little fleet of canoes 
 was paddling down a great river, Kwasind caught 
 sight of a big furry animal, and diving out of 
 his father s canoe, he gave chase among the islands, 
 through the rapids, down the falls, and in the deep 
 waters. At first all thought that he would be 
 drowned, but they soon saw that he dived and swam 
 as well as the King of the Beavers. Indeed, as it 
 turned out, he dived and swam better, for it was the 
 King of the Beavers that Kwasind was after, and 
 having captured him, he brought him back in tri 
 umph to his father s canoe. 
 
 " The fame of Kwasind s exploits, especially of 
 this last one, spread far and wide. He had done so 
 many wonderful feats, and he kept on daily adding 
 
80 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 so many more, that he ended by exciting the jealousy 
 of the Goblins, who conspired to take his life. If 
 we let this man go on, said they among themselves, 
 we shall have nothing to boast of before long. Be 
 sides, he may drive us from the land into the clutches 
 of our mortal enemies, the Water-Sprites. 
 
 u Now, the secret of Kwasind s great strength lay 
 in the crown of his head. But that was also his weak 
 point. The Goblins knew it, and they knew also 
 that there was but one kind of weapon that could 
 kill him, and what that weapon was. It was a strange 
 thing to be equal to cracking the skull of so power 
 ful a man as Kwasind ! It was the burr of the white 
 pine, which, although a pretty heavy and hard thing, 
 you would scarcely suppose equal to doing that, if 
 the strength of his skull was at all in proportion to 
 that of his body : but it wasn t, and the rest of the 
 story hangs on that fact. 
 
 " Well, the Goblins carefully searched all the 
 woods for the biggest and hardest pine-burrs, and 
 collected great numbers of them. Then they carried 
 them to the shore, and stacked them like piles of 
 cannon-balls, on a point of the river Taquamenaw, 
 where they knew Kwasind was in the habit of pass 
 ing in his canoe. It was just where some high, 
 pointed, red rocks jut out into the water, looking 
 like the towers of a strong castle. It was a very safe 
 
KWASJND, THE FEARFULLY STRONG MAN. 81 
 
 place to attack Kwasind from, because, in his canoe, 
 passing around the point, he would afford a fair 
 mark, and even if he could land, it would take him 
 some time to climb up the steep rocks, and all that 
 time the Goblins would be able to shower down pine- 
 burrs on top of his head. The cunning Goblins had 
 planned the attack very well, you see. 
 
 " One afternoon, when everything was ready, the 
 Goblins in great numbers assembled on top of the 
 rocks. In their glee at the thought of their coming 
 triumph, they pranced and curveted around between 
 the stacks of pine-burrs, turning somersaults over 
 them, and playing all sorts of mad pranks. It was 
 a hot summer afternoon, not a breath of air was 
 stirring, and at last the Goblins, quite weary and 
 warm with their sport, paused and looked up the 
 river, just in time to see the canoe of Kwasind turn 
 ing the point of the farthest reach within sight, 
 and coming full into view. At once they dropped 
 flat on their bellies, and swarmed along the ground 
 until they got under shelter of the stacks of pine- 
 burrs. 
 
 " Kwasind came slowly floating down the cur 
 rent. Lulled by the heat, he had fallen asleep, hold 
 ing a paddle, and leaning over the side of his canoe. 
 Even if he had been awake, and had glanced at the 
 point, he probably would have thought that the heaps 
 
82 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 of pine-burrs were so many big ant-hills. Kwasind, 
 as I said, came slowly floating down, nearer and 
 nearer to the steep rocky point: not a sound was 
 heard, and Kwasind still slept. Just as the canoe 
 came right under the rocks, and was swinging around 
 with the current, the head Goblin leaped to his feet, 
 followed by all his comrades, and a volley of pine- 
 burrs crashed on the crown of poor Kwasind s head. 
 He toppled over the side of his canoe, and slowly 
 and silently sank in the deep, deep waters. 
 
 "Ever since then, voyagers by moonlight on the 
 river may sometimes see a wavering space on the 
 ledge that crowns the top of the rocky point, and 
 now and then catch a glimpse of a plume, or hear a 
 shrill laugh. It is the Goblins dancing a merry round, 
 to celebrate their victory over Kwasind, the fearfully 
 strong man, who, not content with excelling men, 
 was so indiscreet as to attempt to rival even the 
 Goblins." 
 
OLD WINTEK AND YOUNG SPEING. 
 
 old, old man sat alone in a lodge by the 
 side of a frozen stream. The cold weather 
 was nigh over, and his fuel was gone, and the old 
 man s fire was low. Seated there, with snowy locks 
 and beard streaming over his shoulders and breast, 
 the old man seemed very lonely and sad. Day after 
 day had he sat there listening to the fierce blasts 
 winnowing the snow. 
 
 One day, just as his fire was dying, a youth en 
 tered his lodge. The youth s step was elastic, his 
 cheeks were rosy, his eyes brimming with pleasure, 
 and his lips wreathed with a beautiful smile. On his 
 brow he wore a fillet of grasses, and, in his hand, 
 held a bunch of wild-flowers. 
 
 " Ah, my son!" said the old man, greeting him, 
 " I am glad to see you. Let us spend the evening 
 together, and entertain each other with an account of 
 our exploits." Eeaching down a curiously carved 
 pipe from the side of the lodge, and filling it with 
 the choicest tobacco, he handed it to his guest, and 
 then taking a pipe himself, and puffing out a few 
 clouds of smoke, he thus began to speak : 
 
 " I breathe, and the streams cease to flow, and be 
 come as hard and brittle as crystal." 
 
84 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 " / breathe," replied the youth, " and flowers 
 spring up in my path." 
 
 " I shake my hoary locks," rejoined the old man, 
 " and the leaves fall and whirl away, the snow 
 whitens the earth, the birds seek a distant clime, and 
 the beasts fly to the shelter of forest and caves." 
 
 "/toss my sunny curls," said the youth, "and 
 soft showers moisten the earth, I loose the fetters 
 from the streams, the plants gently raise their heads, 
 the birds warble amidst the grove, and all Nature 
 rejoices." 
 
 The Sun now rising shed his warm beams over 
 the lodge. The robin and the bluebird began to chirp 
 and sing on the roof, the stream to murmur along its 
 course, and the sweet scent of violets to waft down 
 the breeze. The old man fell silent. As the youth 
 gazed upon him, streams oozed from his eyes, his 
 gaunt visage and lank form slowly lost their outlines, 
 and faded away into thin air. 
 
THE GOOD PBINCESS AND THE BAD PEINCESS. 
 
 AR, far away in the woods once lived a 
 sweet little maiden of fourteen, with her 
 infant brother, of whom she had the sole charge; 
 for they were orphans, and no one lived near. She 
 clothed and fed him until he was old enough to take 
 care both of himself and her, which he did willingly, 
 for he was a good little fellow, and very grateful to 
 her for all her care and kindness. 
 
 One day, when he had grown up to be quite a 
 big boy, he said to his sister: "Are we the only 
 people in the world? How did we get here?" "We 
 had a father and a mother once," answered his sister; 
 "they are the only people, besides you, that I ever 
 saw; but I suppose there must be other people a 
 long, long way off." "What became of our father 
 and mother?" asked the boy. "They hid with us in 
 a hollow tree to escape two wicked Giants, who 
 dragged them out and killed them." "Why didn t 
 the Giants kill usf" persisted the boy. "Because 
 they did not find us. brother, please don t ask me 
 any more questions ; you make my blood run cold !" 
 The girl shuddered, and her brother, after a curious 
 
86 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and sympathizing glance at her face, remained silent, 
 and never again referred to the subject. 
 
 The boy grew into a stripling, and was no longer 
 ambitious of killing small game, such as birds and 
 hare, which he had been used to shoot, but went 
 on long hunts after deer, antelope, elk, and bear, in 
 which excursions he rambled far from home. While 
 hunting, the thought constantly occupied his mind, 
 whether he and his sister could possibly be the only 
 people in the world. He said nothing, because the 
 subject had brought to his sister painful recollections 
 of the loss of their father and mother, but he at last 
 thought so much about it, that he determined to go 
 on a long journey of discovery. One evening, after 
 he had laid his plans, he said to his sister: "Sister, 
 I wish you would tan the last deerskins I brought 
 home, and make me ten pairs of good strong 
 moccasins." His sister started, and exclaimed, "O 
 brother, will you leave me? What would become of 
 me if you should never return!" "Yes, sister," said 
 the youth, "I must go; but I shall return, never fear, 
 and bring you an account of the world." Then the 
 youth rose, and gently parting the silken tresses of 
 his sister, gave her a kiss, and tried hard to cheer 
 her up and make her smile. But for all he did, she 
 could not smile, could not help feeling very sad at 
 the thought of his going. 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS, gf 
 
 One morning soon after the ten pairs of moccasins 
 were finished, the youth, tucking them into his belt, 
 slinging his bow and quiver over his shoulders, and 
 taking leave of his sister, set out on his journey. 
 He walked all day without seeing anything worth 
 mentioning, and passed the night under shelter of a 
 tree, on which, before starting the next morning, he 
 hung up a pair of moccasins for a landmark and for 
 use on his return. 
 
 Stopping to pass the night on the evening of the 
 second day after his departure from home, he noticed 
 stumps of trees that had been felled with axes, 
 "Aha!" said he, half aloud, "the wind never did 
 that 1" and added, observing that the stumps were 
 covered with moss, and giving one of them a kick, 
 and finding it so much spunk, "there must have 
 been people in the world, to cut these trees down, 
 but who can tell whether any are alive now!" In the 
 morning he hung up a pair of moccasins on a branch 
 and continued his journey. 
 
 Towards evening he came across stumps that 
 were harder and less covered with moss than the 
 others. " Ah," thought he, " people were here later, 
 but it was a long, long time ago ; they may all be 
 dead now!" The next morning he hung up a pair of 
 moccasins and continued on his way. 
 
 Thus he journeyed for ten days. Somewhere on 
 
88 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 each day s journey, generally towards the end, he 
 found stumps, each set greater in number and harder 
 than the preceding ones. At last, on the evening of 
 the eleventh day, when he had no more moccasins to 
 leave, he found a clearing in which some of the trees 
 had been cut down so recently that the mark of the 
 axes was visible on the wood still moist with sap. 
 He lay down there to pass the night, but was so 
 excited that he could not get a wink of sleep. The 
 next day he had hardly started before he struck into 
 a path. He followed it until noon, when he heard 
 voices, and saw smoke rising through the trees. 
 Soon he reached a cluster of houses, and saw people 
 passing to and fro in every direction among them, 
 and others a short distance off, engaged in a game of 
 ball. 
 
 The people, ball-players and all, gathered around 
 him and plied him with questions. The ball-players 
 invited him to join their game, to which he readily 
 consented, and although unused to it, displayed such 
 quickness and address as to acquit himself to the 
 admiration of all beholders. At the end of the 
 game the players conducted him to the Lodge of the 
 King, who was seated in state, surrounded by many 
 Chieftains. The King received him with marked 
 distinction, and had him conducted to a seat of 
 honor between the two Princesses, whose names 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 89 
 
 were Ochikou and Machikou. At the King s request 
 he arose and recounted his adventures. At the con 
 clusion, the King declared his intention of bestowing 
 upon him in marriage the two Princesses. At this 
 the youth looked very blank, for Ochikou means the 
 good, but Machikou, the bad. He kept silence, 
 however, and, in the course of the feast which was 
 soon served in honor of the occasion, turned to 
 Ochikou, and, at the risk of giving offence, devoted 
 himself to her, but did not vouchsafe a word or a 
 glance to her sister. After the feast was over, he 
 obtained a private audience of the King, and declared 
 himself delighted at the idea of obtaining the honor 
 of Ochikou s hand, but averse to having more than 
 one wife. The King would not hearken to any 
 change from his expressed will, and began to frown 
 so terribly upon the youth, that he was glad to escape 
 from the royal presence. He was now sent for by 
 the Princesses, and reluctantly he obeyed the sum 
 mons. He soon excused himself for a few minutes, 
 and retired to his lodge, where, waiting until the 
 night was quite dark, he seized a good opportunity, 
 and fled into the Forest. 
 
 The good Princess and the bad Princess sat for a 
 long time near the fire, wondering what kept the 
 fascinating youth. At length they could no longer 
 contain themselves, and despatched a messenger after 
 
90 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 him. The messenger returned, and of course re 
 ported that the youth could nowhere be found. At 
 this the two Princesses glanced at each other, and 
 read the selfsame thought in each other s faces. 
 In their dismay, forgetting all propriety, they rose 
 and went forth to seek him. Not finding him in 
 his lodge, they went out into the town. Now, at 
 least a dozen roads branched off in every direction 
 from the town. They followed several before they 
 lighted upon the one that the youth had taken, 
 which they recognized by the freshness of his foot 
 prints. 
 
 The youth had in the meanwhile got miles away. 
 Bat the two Princesses, who knew many magic arts, 
 and were very fleet of foot, pursued him, running. 
 Thus it happened that, when the night was far spent, 
 and he was beginning to rejoice at his escape, he 
 heard the voices and laughter of the girls, who knew 
 that they were gaining on him. He swung himself 
 into a fir-tree, and climbing to the very top, turned 
 a deaf ear to the entreaties of the Princesses, who, 
 having lost his footsteps at the tree, knew that he 
 must be up in the branches, and stood begging him 
 to come down and return with them. When they 
 found that their fair speeches were of no avail, they 
 set to work with little hatchets that they wore in 
 their girdles, to cut down the tree. At first, when 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 91 
 
 the youth heard the little taps that they gave, he did 
 not concern himself, but suddenly he thought that he 
 heard the trunk creak as if it were near falling, and 
 looking warily around through the darkness, and 
 catching sight of a limb of an oak projecting over 
 head, made shift to catch hold of it, and raising 
 himself up, crawled along it, until he reached the 
 trunk, down which he slid and made off in the gloom 
 while the two Princesses were still chopping away 
 for dear life. He escaped in good time, for he had 
 not gone more than a quarter of a mile, when the 
 wind bore to his ears the crash of the falling tree. 
 
 He knew that the Princesses would soon find out 
 that he had escaped, so he redoubled his speed. 
 Day dawned, and taking advantage of the light, and 
 fearing lest it should discover him to them, he hur 
 ried on faster than ever. Just as the light of day 
 was waning, and he felt quite secure, he heard a 
 laugh, and the voice of one of the girls exclaiming, 
 11 Ah, Oshigewakon, thou mightst as well give up ; 
 the world is not big enough to hide thee." 
 
 Quick as lightning, Oshigewakon, for that was 
 the youth s name, climbed up the trunk and leaped 
 into the crotch of a maple tree, when, discovering 
 that the trunk was hollow, he let himself down into 
 it, thinking, "Your hatchets will break before you 
 fell this tree." So sudden had been his movement, 
 
92 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 that the Princesses lost sight of him for a moment, 
 and did not know in what tree he had taken refuge. 
 They walked around for some time, looking up into 
 the branches of every tree, and calling, " Thou beau 
 teous stranger, art thou there?" Not discovering 
 him, they went around tapping the big trees with 
 their hatchets, to find out which one was hollow, 
 calling, " Thou beauteous stranger, thou must be 
 here." At last they came to the tree in which 
 Oshigewakon was concealed, and set to work to cut 
 it down, but their hatchets blunted without making 
 much impression on the maple, which kind of tree, 
 when dead and weather-beaten, is as hard as rock. 
 
 The Princesses paused to take breath, and finding 
 a little crack in the tree, peeped through, and seeing 
 the stranger sitting there composedly, renewed their 
 chopping so frantically as to break both their 
 hatchets to flinders. Now the Princesses saw that 
 nothing but fair means remained, so they both began 
 to beseech him to come out, crying, " Oshigewa 
 kon, my handsome husband, whom my father, the 
 great Ogima, gave me, come and take possession of 
 thy slave 1" 
 
 But the youth did not stir, and the Princesses, 
 peeping through the crack in the tree, saw him sit 
 ting there as composedly as ever, utterly indifferent 
 to them. The wicked sister then said to the good 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 93 
 
 one: " Come aside, I have something to tell thee." 
 When they were out of earshot she whispered: "It 
 is no use, our entreating him, he does not heed us ; 
 let s separate and practise on him our magic arts. 
 As he will marry only one, let it be she who can 
 catch him." The good sister consented, and they 
 separated, and went off in different directions. 
 
 "When silence had lasted some time, Oshigewakon 
 breathed freely again, and finally climbed out of his 
 hiding-place, seated himself on the crotch of the tree, 
 and scanned the ground in every direction. Although 
 satisfied that the sisters had really gone, he deter 
 mined not to leave his refuge till nightfall. Then 
 he got down, and as he was very hungry, walked 
 some distance to a beaver-pond which he recollected 
 having passed. He there spread his blanket on the 
 ground, and then broke the beaver-dam to let out the 
 water. A fat beaver was left aground, which he 
 killed, and, tossing over his shoulder, brought back 
 to the camp. What was his astonishment to find a 
 beautiful lodge where he had left his blanket ! " Ah, 
 me," he thought, " those obstinate Princesses I" He 
 was on the point of flying, when giving a glance at 
 the lodge, it looked so snug, and the fire shining in 
 side so cheery, that he had not the heart to do it. 
 So he walked a few steps aside, to command a view 
 of the interior of the lodge, and saw a girl attend- 
 
94 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 ing to her household duties. " Perhaps," thought he, 
 u it is the good sister." He threw the beaver down 
 by the door and entered. " Good evening," said the 
 girl (who by the way was pretty, but rather thin and 
 pale), glancing first at the youth, and then at the 
 beaver "you have been hunting. Wait awhile, and 
 I will prepare you supper and a bed for the night." 
 
 She had soon cut up the beaver, and cooked a 
 dish of it for supper. Oshigewakon noticed that, 
 while stirring the pot, she tasted the contents, and 
 even dipped out the tidbits and devoured them 
 greedily. What with the disgust with which he was 
 inspired at the sight, and the absence of the choice 
 morsels which the fagged hunter has alwa}^s a right 
 to expect, he lost his appetite, and ate very sparingly 
 of supper. Moreover, the disgust that he had con 
 ceived for the girl was so intense, that he slighted 
 all her advances to a better acquaintance, and wrap 
 ping himself in his blanket, soon sought relief in 
 sleep. 
 
 When he rose in the morning he found no break 
 fast the girl had eaten every scrap of food in the 
 lodge. Angrily turning upon her, he was denoun 
 cing her gluttony, when he was startled to see her 
 grow paler, her face shrink into a long snout, her 
 body bristle with wiry hair ; and with a snarl, a 
 snap, and a glare, a she-wolf bounded past him 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 95 
 
 through the doorway. Then he knew it to be 
 Machikou, and thanked heaven for his escape. 
 
 He hastened away from the spot, and walked 
 rapidly until sunset, when he stopped at a beaver- 
 dam, and, as before, spread his blanket, and went off 
 and let the water out of the dam. Instead of catch 
 ing only one beaver, he caught three. Slinging them 
 about his person, he went towards his camping-ground, 
 when he descried a lodge, and through the open door 
 a young girl moving briskly about putting things to 
 rights. Thought he, " Who can it be this time? It 
 is not the lean, wolfish girl ; perhaps it is the good 
 one, her sister." He stepped into the lodge, and 
 found everything very neat and orderly. " Good," 
 thought he, " I like her, she shall be my wife." 
 
 The girl was pretty, slight, graceful, and neat, 
 and attended to her household affairs without seeking 
 to attract his attention. When she had finished 
 cooking, she set before him a supper of the choicest 
 cuts of beaver. He asked her to join him, but she 
 modestly replied, " No, no, eat your supper ; there is 
 time enough for me : I will eat mine presently." 
 "But Ochikou," said he, risking the name, "I do not 
 like to eat alone, what I got for myself and you." 
 The girl smiled, and an expression which had dis 
 guised her features passed from them, and he saw 
 that she was really the good Princess, Ochikou. 
 
96 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Nevertheless, she persisted in saying that she would 
 not join him at supper, but would eat hers presently. 
 Soon Oshigewakon, feeling very tired, lay down 
 and went to sleep. In the middle of the night he was 
 awakened by a noise, and opening his eyes, saw the 
 girl gnawing the bark off of some birch twigs. In 
 the morning he supposed that he must have been 
 dreaming. He told the girl his dream, and, to his 
 surprise, she did not even smile. "What," thought 
 he, "could it have been real? Come here," said he 
 to her; "tell me why, when I brought home the 
 beavers, you looked at them so mournfully." "Ah," 
 replied she, with a deep sigh, " I had good cause to 
 look at them mournfully! were they not my rela 
 tions!" "What!" exclaimed Oshigewakon; "that is 
 a good joke : so you belong to the family of the Bea 
 vers?" "Yes," said the girl, "I am descended from 
 them." "Ha, ha!" roared Oshigewakon; "well, if 
 you come to that, I must be derived from the Otters, 
 and so we two are distantly related don t you know 
 Oshigewakon means Heart of the Otter ? Well, well, 
 in future, if you will be a good wife, and it will please 
 you, I will not kill any more of your relations, if 
 you also will promise not to disturb me by keeping 
 up old family customs of gnawing bark in the middle 
 of the night." Thus Oshigewakon joked about the 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 97 
 
 matter, but it was more serious than lie imagined, as 
 the sequel will show. 
 
 Very happy were the hunter, Oshigewakon, and 
 the Princess Ochikou, living all by themselves in 
 the Forest, but they were happier still when a little 
 son was born to them. His father expected such 
 great things of him, that the very day after his birth 
 he made him a little bow and a quiver full of arrows. 
 At this Oshigewakon s wife laughed heartily, as well 
 she might. I verily believe they were the happiest 
 couple in the world ! But, ah me, what a bubble is 
 happiness ! a breath, and it is gone ! 
 
 They had travelled to a distant village where there 
 was great merry-making on the occasion of gathering 
 the yield of maple sugar. Meanwhile there had been 
 heavy rains, and all the streams were swollen to 
 overflowing. Ochikou told her husband that he 
 must build her a bridge over every stream that 
 crossed their way home, for if she should get her 
 feet wet, it would cause him great sorrow. Oshige 
 wakon promised, and going before, over every stream 
 built a bridge for his dear wife, so that she might 
 pass dryshod. At length, however, when they had 
 almost reached home, he came to a rill, not more 
 than half a foot wide. It was so small that he 
 never thought of bridging it, but, stepping over it, 
 continued on his way. He had gone some distance, 
 
98 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 when, not hearing his wife s step behind him, he 
 turned to find her, and perceived that the rains 
 from the mountains had descended into the rill and 
 converted it into a torrent, oil the other side of 
 which stood his wife, clasping her child to her bosom, 
 and vainly trying to cross. Before he could warn 
 her, she leaped, stumbled, and fell with the child 
 into the water, and was swept away by the current. 
 He reached the brink just in time to see her and the 
 child turn into a big and a little beaver and float 
 out of sight. Blaming his unlucky stars, he followed 
 the stream, and in the course of two days reached 
 a beaver-dam. There he saw, seated on top of 
 the dam, a big beaver; and close by, in the water, 
 a little one. Something told him that they were his 
 transformed wife and child, so he cried out from the 
 shore, begging her to come to him. The big beaver 
 looked towards him with a tearful glance, and then 
 replied: "Ah, heedless man! did I not obey your 
 slightest wish ? why did you not mine ? In this form 
 am I doomed to spend the remainder of my days." 
 
 That is the end of the story. 
 
 * ( And what became of Oshige wakon ; what became 
 of the poor little sister left all alone in the woods?" 
 That is more than I know. Thank fortune for the 
 good that you possess : some stories have neither 
 beginning nor end. I suppose, if the truth were 
 
THE GOOD PRINCESS AND THE BAD PRINCESS. 99 
 
 known, that Oshigewakon had had enough of the two 
 great families of Wolves and Beavers, and as he was 
 a very good fellow, must have longed to get back to 
 his sweet little sister, and probably did go back, and 
 live with her all the rest of his days ; but I don t 
 know anything about the matter, it s only a suppo 
 sition. All I know is, that the last that was seen of 
 Oshigewakon was at the beaver-dam, imploring his 
 wife to come ashore. Let us hope that she and the 
 child came, and were restored to their human forms, 
 and, whether that happened or not, that Oshigewakon 
 did not forget the good little sister left all by herself 
 in the woods. 
 
MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGEE. 
 
 a lovely rolling prairie, partly open, partly 
 forest-clad, and silvered with tiny lakes and 
 rivers, once dwelt the terrible Mudjee Monedo, the 
 Ogre. As though it had been intended that men 
 should shun the monster, he had an aspect not less 
 evil than his name and deeds: Mudjee Monedo was 
 the most frightful Ogre that the world ever saw. His 
 neckless head rested on a clumsy body supported by 
 gnarled bandy-legs; his face hung in flabby ashen 
 folds around his tusky mouth ; and his crafty green 
 eyes lurked beneath bat-winged brows, over which 
 fell a maze of grizzly hair. At the sight of him even 
 wild beasts turned and fled to gain the refuge of 
 their lairs. Indeed, so baleful was his glance that, 
 wonder is, it did not blast the landscape, and that 
 winter did not howl throughout the livelong year. 
 
 The forests of the country abounded with game, 
 and its lakes and rivers gleamed with shoals of 
 fishes. But Mudjee Monedo looked neither to the 
 forests nor to the waters to supply his larder : nothing 
 but human flesh pleased his taste, and to gratify it, 
 he had almost swept the country of its inhabitants. 
 
M UDJEE MONE D O, THE OGRE. 1 Q 1 
 
 The men, women, and children would long before 
 have fled to some distant land, had they not always 
 hoped that soon one of their warriors would succeed 
 in destroying the terrible monster. Meanwhile, the 
 people hoping against hope, Mudjee Monedo kept on 
 devouring, devouring, devouring. 
 
 Near Mudjee Monedo s dwelling was a lake around 
 which he had made a race-course, the track of which 
 was hardened with human bone-dust. Alongside of the 
 course he had set a post which served for both start 
 ing-point and goal, and from it hung a keen-edged 
 knife. Nothing was easier for the wily Ogre than to 
 ensnare brave youths into racing with him : if a 
 challenge failed, a taunt was always sure to gain 
 his point. The hunter, skilled in all manly exer*- 
 cises, always hoped until too late that he might be 
 more fortunate than those who had already fallen a 
 prey. Yet to race with the Ogre was certain defeat, 
 for he had the power to transform himself into the 
 likeness of any four-footed animal, and distance his 
 adversary ; and defeat was certain death, for he was 
 never known to spare. At the goal, no matter with 
 what speed his adversary had run, the Ogre, knife 
 in hand, was always found awaiting the victim s 
 coming. 
 
 Near Mudjee Monedo lived a widow, whose hus 
 band and ten sons had each in turn paid for his 
 
102 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 rashness the forfeit of his life; each in turn, after 
 the first, having longed to avenge his loss. Of 
 all the widow s family, there now remained to her 
 but her young daughter, and her stripling son, Mane- 
 dowa; and her daily, hourly dread was lest her 
 son, grown to manhood, should fall a victim to the 
 Ogre s thirst for blood. Meanwhile, she caused him 
 to be taught all a warrior s skill and duty, and she 
 herself taught her daughter all that was needful for a 
 maiden. 
 
 Their lodge was situated on a point that jutted 
 out into the lake, whence its occupants commanded 
 a view bounded by the distant outskirts of the 
 mighty Forest. Content in their mutual love, their 
 d ays rolled calmly by. But where is the solitude 
 that Cupid finds not, if he may there plant a shaft in 
 a maiden s heart ! One afternoon the maiden hied 
 to the neighboring groves to gather fallen branches 
 for fuel. Soon she had her little fagot made and 
 bound, ready to be shouldered. But ere she stooped 
 to take it from the ground, she paused for a moment 
 to gaze at the glow of sunset. Suddenly she started, 
 and almost screamed, as a shadow fell before her. 
 Glancing over her shoulder, she beheld a young man, 
 whose steps had been arrested by her gesture. Her 
 first impulse was to fly, but, with another rapid 
 glance, her purpose faltered, and then she stood 
 
MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGRE. 1Q3 
 
 riveted to the ground, conscious of a strange emo 
 tion, for over the noble countenance of the youth 
 flitted an engaging smile, and a tuneful voice ad 
 dressed her. 
 
 The Sun had long set ere the maiden s footsteps 
 crossed her mother s threshold. Not a word did she 
 breathe of the mysterious stranger. Often thence 
 forward did she meet him in the neighboring groves, 
 and often, after their plighted faith, did he entreat 
 her to ask her mother s consent to their union. But 
 the timid maiden, happy in her innocent love, and 
 ignorant of what might come of her confession, kept 
 the secret from her mother. Yet, although she told 
 it not in words, she told it just as plainly ah, not 
 less blind than love are lovers! Her mother had 
 long suspected, from the small amount of fuel gath 
 ered in the longest greenwood rambles, that it was 
 not solitude that wooed her daughter. At last she 
 questioned her, and learned the whole love story, 
 and to her daughter s joy consented to receive her 
 suitor. Gayly did the maiden dance down the hill 
 sides, clamber the rocks and leap the brooks, carolling 
 along the way to the trysting-place, to see her lover. 
 Their rapturous meeting ended with his promise to 
 present himself at the lodge that evening. 
 
 Sunset spread a golden path for the young war 
 rior approaching the lodge, decked with his bright- 
 
104 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 plumed panache, gently swaying to his graceful step. 
 The widow arose, and extending her hand in wel 
 come to the stranger, led him to her daughter, and 
 joining their hands, seated him beside her. 
 
 The next morning the Sun was scarcely up, 
 before the young warrior, rising from his couch, 
 asked for the bow and arrows of one of the widow s 
 slain sons. They were handed to him ; when slinging 
 over his shoulder the quiver that contained the ar 
 rows, and holding the bow in his left hand, he saun 
 tered towards the distant Forest. No sooner had he 
 entered the Forest and screened himself from obser 
 vation, than he suddenly turned into a partridge. 
 All day he was lost to sight amid the dense foliage, 
 but when evening came, he, in his natural shape, ap 
 peared with two deer at the door of the lodge. Every 
 day he left the lodge at sunrise, and returned at sun. 
 set, bearing two deer. He ate but little, and that of 
 some peculiar food, unknown to his wife and her 
 mother. This circumstance, coupled with an inde 
 finable mystery about him, convinced them that they 
 had to do with a visitor from another sphere. 
 
 A few days had passed when the widow informed 
 him that the Ogre of whom she had spoken would 
 soon come prowling around to find out how long it 
 would probably be before her son would be fit for a 
 
MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGRE. 1Q5 
 
 victim. The young warrior replied that he should 
 be absent on the occasion of the Ogre s visit, but 
 should return as soon as it was over. 
 
 On the day when the Ogre was known to be com 
 ing, the young warrior retired to a lonely spot in the 
 woods, and, transforming himself into a partridge, 
 flew to the lodge and perched in an overhanging tree, 
 just as the Ogre reached the place. The Ogre cast 
 suspicious glances at the venison hung up to cure. 
 u Woman," said he to the widow, " where does all 
 this meat come from?" "My son," answered the 
 widow, trembling for the boy, "is just beginning to 
 hunt." "You lie!" thundered the Ogre, "some 
 hunter dwells with you." "Ah me !" exclaimed the 
 widow, " you mock me. Who cares enough for me 
 to provide me with anything?" "I shall know," 
 growled the Ogre, walking away, " whether you are 
 speaking the truth, ere I come this way again." 
 
 Not long after Mudjee Monedo had disappeared 
 from sight, the young warrior was observed ap 
 proaching the lodge, bearing on his shoulders two 
 deer. His wife and mother-in-law, ignorant of his 
 presence at the interview with the Ogre, poured into 
 his ears a long recital of what had occurred. "Very 
 well," he replied, as soon as he could get a chance to 
 be heard, " at the next visit I shall be at home, and 
 
 myself receive the Ogre." They implored him riot 
 10 
 
106 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 to dream of such a thing, telling him of all the 
 cruelties practised and murders committed by Mudjee 
 Monedo. " I care not," was the reply ; " if he should 
 defy me to meet him in the race, I will not balk his 
 humor. I will teach him that it had been better to 
 show mercy to the vanquished, and kindness to the 
 widow and the orphan." 
 
 On the morning of the day when Mudjee Monedo 
 was again expected at the widow s lodge, the young 
 warrior told his wife to prepare a certain food, into 
 which he directed her to put some birch-buds which 
 he handed her. He instructed both her and her mo 
 ther to extend to the corning guest the welcome 
 required by the laws of hospitality. He then attired 
 himself in the full-dress of a warrior, intending to 
 indicate by it and by his manner, that he was prepared 
 for either friendship or enmity. Mudjee Monedo, 
 approaching the lodge, cast a sidelong glance at 
 the young warrior, as he whispered to the widow, 
 "What did I say to you when I was last here?" 
 The widow parried the remark by replying, "How 
 could I have thought to conceal anything from a 
 Magician ?" 
 
 Mudjee Monedo turned to the young warrior, and 
 addressing him, said: "Stranger, I invite you to my 
 lodge, and if your limbs have not stiffened during 
 the quiet life you have led here, mayhap you will 
 
MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGRE. 107 
 
 run a race with me on my famous course." The 
 young warrior modestly replied that he had no great 
 skill in running. " Aha !" tauntingly exclaimed 
 the Ogre, " young and active as you are, you fear to 
 measure your speed against an old man s. But," 
 added he, changing his tone, and trying to appear 
 amiable, which effort made him look more hideous 
 than ever, "let us run, at least to amuse others." 
 " Agreed," replied the young warrior. " As you are 
 so anxious, let us race to-morrow." 
 
 Kejoiced at his success, Mudjee Monedo was 
 easily prevailed upon to stay and take some refresh 
 ment. Only one dish was served, which, as was 
 usual, was first tasted by the host. When the 
 repast was nearly over, Mudjee Monedo raised to his 
 lips the bowl in which it had been served, and 
 drained to the last drop the broth remaining at 
 the bottom. No sooner had he done so, than he 
 was seized with a violent fit of coughing : a par 
 ticle of one of the birch-buds, as had been de 
 signed, had lodged near his windpipe. He swelled 
 and swelled, until he looked as though he would burst, 
 and his flabby ashen face grew purple with coughing. 
 Unable to utter a word, he reeled out of the lodge 
 towards home, the malicious echoes mocking him all 
 along the way. 
 
 The young warrior rose with the Sun. His first 
 
108 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 care was to oil his limbs to make them supple. lie 
 then dressed himself in all the splendor of his war 
 dress, and attended by young Manedowa, presented 
 himself before Mudjee Monedo s lodge. The neigh 
 boring people, having heard the news of the 
 coming race, had flocked from all quarters, and now 
 crowded a hillside opposite the eminence which 
 was crowned by the lodge. Dark groups stood 
 hushed in expectation of the coming scene. 
 
 As Mudjee Monedo and the young warrior ap 
 proached the combined starting-post and goal, from 
 which, as usual, dangled the gleaming knife, the for 
 mer thus spoke : " When men race with me, they 
 must abide the issue of our wager Life against life." 
 He gave his belt a twitch, and, unable longer to 
 restrain his fiendish joy, uttered a yell that made the 
 welkin ring, and glanced exultantly at the bleached 
 track that encircled the beautiful blue lake. 
 
 " I am ready," replied the undaunted stranger, 
 whose noble countenance wore an expression of per 
 fect calm. 
 
 With a whoop for the signal of starting, Mudjee 
 Monedo dashed off. Before ten yards were passed, 
 however, the stranger had outstripped him. Mudjee 
 Monedo, now exercising his magic power, changed 
 himself into a fox, and, scouring past the stranger, 
 left him far behind. But the stranger, now exercis- 
 
MUDJEE MONEDO, THE OGRE. 109 
 
 ing his magic power, took the form of a partridge, 
 and, with a loud whirr, rising into the air, alighted 
 far beyond the fox, and resumed his natural shape. 
 Mudjee Monedo was startled on discovering his ad 
 versary running on easily ahead. Muttering to him 
 self, " Strange this," he changed himself into a 
 wolf, and again scoured by his adversary. As the 
 wolf passed him, the stranger heard a whistling noise 
 in its throat, and knew that the particle of birch-bud 
 still stuck. Instantly the whirr of the partridge was 
 heard overhead, and a voice from the air reached 
 Mudjee Monedo s ear: "Aha! my friend, is this the 
 best you can do ?" 
 
 Mudjee Monedo felt his heart sink within him, 
 as, looking ahead, he again saw the graceful form of 
 the stranger speeding easily along. He quickly as 
 sumed the form of a reindeer, and passed the stranger. 
 But again the whirr was heard overhead, and the 
 partridge alighted far in advance of the reindeer, 
 and the stranger was again seen ahead, speeding 
 easily along. In the form of a buffalo (that in which 
 the Ogre had generally finished his races), he now, 
 with flaming eye and foaming mouth, tore past the 
 stranger. Soon the partridge rose and passed high 
 above the buffalo, whose desperate speed could not 
 be maintained, and who, spent with fatigue, and 
 ploughing along panting, with his tongue lolling out, 
 
 10* 
 
HO AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 heard a voice from the air crying out: "Aha! my 
 friend, is this the best you can do?" A moment 
 more, and again the stranger led the race. 
 
 Mudjee Monedo answered not a word, until, as 
 he was nearing the stranger, one short flight from 
 the goal, he shouted, " Hold ! a word with you." 
 His adversary laughed sneeringly, and shouted over 
 his shoulder, " When men race with me, they must 
 abide the issue of our wager Life against life." 
 Then taking flight as a partridge, he alighted near 
 the goal, and resuming his natural shape, ran for it. 
 Mudjee Monedo almost halted in dismay as the 
 people on the hillside sent up a joyous shout. Beau 
 tiful to behold was the youthful stranger, his lithe 
 limbs plying under him, and his gorgeous war-plumes 
 floating out far behind: he leaped at the goal, and 
 seized the gleaming knife. 
 
 Slowly forward to his doom now paced the once 
 dread Mudjee Monedo. " Spare my life," cried the 
 dastard, and then murmured beseechingly to the 
 victor, "Only let me live." Affecting to believe 
 that the wretched boon had been granted him, he 
 began to move stealthily away, when the victor ad 
 dressed him thus: "Such mercy as you showed to 
 others, that mercy shall be shown to you." One 
 sweeping blow from the knife descended on the 
 Ogre s neck, and his head, shorn from the shoulders, 
 
MUDJEE MO N EDO, THE OGRE. \\\ 
 
 bounded down the bank, and plunged into the depths 
 of the lake below. 
 
 Sights too horrid to depict everywhere met the 
 eye in the Ogre s den. In one room were found two 
 serpents the wife and child of Mudjee Monedo, who 
 by nature had the same form. The knife which the 
 stranger still grasped, severed their heads at two 
 strokes. Brush-wood was piled around the lodge, 
 and kindled ; and soon to the four winds of heaven 
 the lodge and all its contents were dispersed save, 
 amid the volumes of black smoke rolling along the 
 ground, two fiery serpents, that were seen to escape 
 into the bowels of the earth. 
 
 Followed by an immense concourse of people, the 
 mysterious stranger, who was no other than Minno 
 Monedo, the Good Genius, departed for his lodge, 
 where, assembling the people, he taught them how 
 to plant, to build, and to be happy. His beneficent 
 mission ended, he bade farewell to his wife and to 
 all the people, and seeming gradually to float away, 
 was wrapt from their sight forever. 
 
THE LYNX AND THE HARE. 
 
 |,NE day, in the dead of winter, when food 
 was very scarce, a half-starved Lynx dis 
 covered a modest little Hare standing on a high rock 
 in the woods, secure from any attack. 
 
 " Come down, my pretty one," said the Lynx, 
 in an engaging tone, " I have something to say to 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, no, I can t," answered the Hare. "My 
 mother has often told me to avoid strangers." 
 
 "Why, you sweet little obedient child," said the 
 Lynx, " I m delighted to meet you, for, you must 
 know, I am your uncle. Come down this instant 
 and see me; I want to send a message to your 
 mother." 
 
 The Hare was so much charmed with the affa 
 bility of her pretended relative, and tickled at his 
 praise, that, forgetful of her mother s injunction, she 
 leaped from the rock, and was at once torn to pieces 
 and devoured by the Lynx. 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN, 
 
 MAN who Lad become disgusted with his fel 
 lows, deserted their society, and taking with 
 him his wife and three infant sons, and all his worldly 
 goods, thenceforth lived in solitude. He had forgot 
 ten how much all mankind are dependent on each 
 other, and so, when he and his wife were at the same 
 time removed by sudden death, the three boys were 
 left friendless and destitute. They were, however, 
 when that happened, old enough to help themselves, 
 and from day to day, developing in body and mind, 
 became skilful hunters and bold rangers of their wide 
 domain. 
 
 They often debated whether it would not be well 
 for one of them to go in some direction, to search for 
 habitations, and try to get wives for all ; but did not 
 put the project into execution, for the reason that, 
 sometimes, a brother would suggest that the one sent 
 might never be able to return, sometimes that, as they 
 had done so long without wives, they could manage 
 to do without them to the end of their lives. 
 
 On a certain day the three brothers started out to 
 hunt on a wager. Each was to kill an animal of the 
 kind that he was most skilful in hunting, bring it to 
 
114 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 the lodge, and prepare a dish of it: the one that was 
 the most expeditious, to win the wager. Early in the 
 morning they set out by different paths. Ojibwa, the 
 youngest, had not long parted from his brothers, Sha- 
 wano and Mudjekeewis, when he came across a bear, 
 the animal which, by the terms of the wager, he was 
 not to kill, but which, nevertheless, he did kill. 
 Kneeling down, he began to skin it; when suddenly 
 the whole air round about seemed tinged with red, 
 arid, at the same time, from afar came a plaintive 
 sound, like the human voice. He rose and fol 
 lowed the sound, which became clearer and clearer 
 as he advanced, until, as he was rising over the 
 crest of a hill, a bewitching melody burst full upon 
 his ear. Peeping over the crest, he saw, on the mir 
 rored surface of a little lake, a beautiful scarlet swan, 
 now floating motionless, and anon sailing gracefully 
 to and fro, dipping its beak into the water. It was 
 almost out of bowshot, but Ojibwa, thinking that by 
 employing his utmost skill he could hit it, chose a 
 fine arrow, and, taking deliberate aim, shot. He 
 was not half so much surprised at missing, as that 
 the swan, seemingly unconscious of danger, remained 
 disporting itself on the water, and pouring forth 
 what he now regarded as its death-song. 
 
 More deliberately still, with the second arrow he 
 shot a little closer, and, with the third, pierced the 
 
THE S CARLET SWAN. 1 1 5 
 
 swan s neck. The bird s plaintive song ceased, and 
 it rose fluttering, as if sorely wounded. Gradually, 
 however, as it rose, the galling arrow disengaged it 
 self from the wound; it increased in strength of flight, 
 and winged its way off in a straight course, leaving 
 the disappointed hunter gazing at it until out of sight. 
 Ojibwa possessed wonderful speed : he was the 
 fastest runner of the three youths, although the others 
 were very swift of foot. He could shoot an arrow 
 straight before him, and run so fast that it fell behind 
 him. No wonder, then, that it did not seem a very 
 great feat to run a few miles to overtake the dying 
 swan. He ran faster than a deer after the swan, over 
 hills and valleys, and kept right on without tiring, 
 until dusk. He was just considering where he should 
 pass the night, when he heard the strokes of axes 
 resounding through the Forest, and in a little while 
 came out into the open country, and saw on a hill at 
 a distance a pretty village. Going in that direction, 
 he had approached unperceived, as he thought, to 
 within fifty yards, when he heard the watchman of 
 the village, who was stationed on an eminence, cry 
 out : " A stranger comes this way." A shout from 
 the village announced that the signal had been heard 
 there, and advancing, he entered, and hailing the 
 watchman, demanded the way to the lodge of the 
 Chief. It was pointed out to him, and he soon pre- 
 
116 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 sented himself at the door. The Chief politely in 
 vited him to enter and be seated beside his daughter. 
 Turning to her, after looking at the young man s 
 moccasins, which were much the worse for wear, he 
 added : u When our son-in-law retires to rest, take his 
 moccasins and mend them." 
 
 Ojibwa thought it a very strange proceeding on the 
 part of the Chief, to try to marry him to the girl with 
 out consulting him. However, he thought it discreet 
 to say nothing ; and as, although she was pretty, he 
 felt no fancy for her, he determined not to accept her, 
 but to call for her on his return, and take her home 
 as a wife for one of his brothers. Yet, although he 
 did not care a fig for the girl, his vanity was hurt at 
 observing that she did not seem to wish to secure 
 him on any terms, but cast down her eyes, as though in 
 shame at the way in which her father had attempted 
 to thrust her upon him, and sat mute, and without 
 the slightest sign of pleasure at his company. When 
 he took off his moccasins, she examined them with 
 so much indifference, and seemed so reluctant to 
 mend them, that he snatched them out of her hand 
 and put them away. If she had any intention of en 
 ticing him by affecting coyness, her scheme failed ; 
 for, when the time to retire came, flinging himself 
 on his couch, he turned his back on her, and slept 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. Hf 
 
 soundly till morning, dreaming of the beautiful 
 swan. 
 
 When he awoke early, he touched the girl gently 
 on the shoulder, to rouse her. " What do you want?" 
 said she sharply, as though she had been awake all 
 the time ; and then flounced around on the couch, 
 and turned her back on him. "I want to know," 
 he replied, " which way a scarlet swan, that passed 
 over here, went. Come and show me." " Do you 
 think you can catch it?" said the girl. "I do," 
 replied Ojibwa. "Nonsense," she returned; "but 
 if you are foolish enough to try, you may. Come." 
 She rose sulky, and, accompanying him to the door, 
 pointed out the direction that the swan had taken. 
 He was so glad that, without troubling himself to 
 thank the girl, he darted away and scoured over 
 the country, like the wind. He never once paused 
 nor slackened his speed, and, by nightfall, found 
 himself near another village, from an eminence over 
 topping which he heard the watchman cry : " A 
 stranger comes this way." 
 
 After receiving the watchman s direction to the 
 lodge of the Chief, Ojibwa presented himself at the 
 door, and was invited by the Chief to enter and sit 
 down beside his daughter. Everything happened as 
 on the previous night, the only difference that Ojibwa 
 could perceive, being that the second girl was even 
 11 
 
118 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 prettier than the first, and undisguised in her admi 
 ration for him. But, although she lavished her 
 smiles upon him, he had no mind to accept her, but 
 thought to himself, that he would call for her on his 
 return, and take her to one of his brothers. As on 
 the previous night, he, on retiring to his couch, 
 turned his back on her, and went to sleep, and by 
 daylight was afoot. Awaking her, he asked her 
 which way the swan had gone. Her face saddened 
 as she followed him to the door and pointed in a 
 certain direction, adding: "Between noon and night." 
 The poor girl let her head fall disconsolately on 
 her bosom, as Ojibwa, without the slightest notice 
 or reply, sprang from her side and sped over the 
 country. 
 
 About mid-day, he thought to himself: "As this 
 is the third day of my journey, perhaps I have lost 
 some of my speed ;" so, shooting an arrow ahead, he 
 quickened his pace a little. The arrow fell far 
 behind him, and now, perfectly satisfied that he was 
 as fleet as ever, he continued his swift course. At 
 dark he saw a twinkling light, which he knew must 
 corne from the open door or window of a lodge. 
 Approaching the place cautiously, he peeped in, to 
 find out whether he might safely ask a lodging of 
 the inmates, and saw an old man seated before the 
 fire, who, without looking around, said, just as though 
 
THE SCARLET S WA N. 119 
 
 he had seen Ojibwa through the dark, " Come in, my 
 son, and rest yourself; you must be tired;" and 
 added, as Ojibwa promptly appeared in the doorway, 
 " Take off your damp clothes and dry them, while 
 I prepare something for your supper." As Ojibwa 
 seated himself and began to undress, he heard the 
 old man say : " My pot stands by the fire," and was 
 astonished to see a little earthen pot appear close to 
 the flames. He now understood that his host was a 
 Magician. 
 
 The Magician stooped over the pot and dropped 
 into it a grain of corn and a whortleberry. Ojibwa, 
 who felt a voracious appetite after his long day s run, 
 thought to himself that he should have to postpone 
 satisfying it, if the Magician provided such short 
 commons as those; but he had the good grace to 
 conceal his thought, which had hardly passed through 
 his mind, when the pot began to simmer, and the 
 Magician said: "My pot stands full, help yourself, 
 my son ;" and he saw it so full as to prop up the lid. 
 He was hungry, and, without at first perceiving his 
 ill manners, helped himself to the whole contents of 
 the pot. Seeing then his mistake, he was stam 
 mering out an apology, when his host said, "Never 
 mind, my son, eat your supper, I have had mine." 
 Presently the Magician said, " Help yourself," and 
 Ojibwa, glancing at the pot, saw that it was full to 
 
120 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 the brim. Ojibwa helped himself to the whole of 
 its contents, and when he had finished them, his host 
 said for the third time, " Help yourself," and Ojibwa 
 saw that the pot was as full as ever. He took all 
 that was in it, saying, as he did so, that he had 
 had enough, whereupon the Magician said, "My pot 
 stands on the shelf," and Ojibwa lost sight of it for a 
 moment, and saw it reappear on a shelf. 
 
 After Ojibwa had finished his supper, the old 
 man encouraged him to speak freely about his ad 
 ventures. When he had concluded his story, the old 
 man said: " Listen, my son. Not far hence dwells a 
 friend of mine, a Magician, to injure whom several 
 Magicians belonging to a hostile tribe leagued to 
 gether. On his head he wore a cap of wampum, 
 fastened to his scalp. Knowing that he was despe 
 rately in love with the daughter of their Chief, these 
 Magicians sent a message to him, as though from 
 her, that she had taken such a violent fancy to his 
 cap, that she felt sure she should die if he did not at 
 once send it to her. My friend was so eager to 
 gratify his mistress s whim, that he at once seized his 
 cap and pulled it off, jerking his scalp off with it, and 
 leaving his raw head exposed. The messengers of 
 the Magicians, rejoiced at their success, hastened 
 back, bearing the scalp. Ever since, it has been sent 
 from village to village of the hostile tribe, hung on a 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 121 
 
 pole, around which the people shout and dance, 
 making wry faces at it and insulting it. Although 
 this happened many years ago, his head has not 
 healed, but is as sore as ever. Worse than all, every 
 time that the scalp receives an insult, its unhappy 
 owner feels a twinge in the place where it ought to 
 be. The combined Magicians are too powerful for 
 our side. We cannot approach without our presence 
 being perceived: you can ; therefore your services are 
 needed. By sunrise start again on your journey, and 
 towards night you will, on hearing deep groans, know 
 that you are drawing near the lodge of my friend. 
 He will invite you to enter, will ask you to tell him 
 your dreams, will beg you to attempt the recovery of 
 his scalp. Fortify your heart with courage and pre 
 vail. I can say no more : when, by your constancy, 
 you shall have proved } r ourself worthy, you will 
 know all." 
 
 Ojibwa modestly replied, " So be it, it is enough: 
 I will do rny best." 
 
 By dawn the next morning Ojibwa had eaten 
 breakfast and started again on his journey. Confi 
 dent of winning the prize, and rejoiced at the pros 
 pect, his high spirits lent wings to his feet, which 
 seemed scarcely to touch the ground. Lest, how 
 ever, he might deceive himself as to the rate at which 
 he was travelling, he stopped and shot an arrow 
 
 11* 
 
122 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 ahead, to test it. Before the arrow fell to the ground 
 he had overtaken and outstripped it, and, looking 
 back over his shoulder, he saw it fall in the distance. 
 At dark he began to hear deep groans, and, going in 
 the direction of the sounds, reached the lodge of the 
 Magician. He found him in sad plight, holding his 
 bloody head between his hands, groaning piteously, 
 and lamenting his hard fate. "Sit down," said the 
 old man. " Sit down," he repeated, sharply, as though 
 Ojibwa had not minded him; and, angrily looking 
 up, and seeing that he had, added more courteously, 
 " Pray take a seat." The old man was silent for a 
 minute or more, and then breaking silence with a 
 sigh, said : " Ah me, I feel that your coming will be 
 of no avail. Many have gone before. I have hoped 
 too much to have any hope left. You will meet the 
 fate of all that have preceded you." Here the old 
 man groaned and fell "silent. "But no," said he, 
 with sudden animation, as he glanced at Ojibwa, 
 "you are young, active, brave: my enemies will not 
 be permitted always to triumph. Young man, break 
 your fast from the pot before the fire, and when you 
 have supped, tell me all the dreams that you have 
 had within a week." 
 
 Ojibwa took off his moccasins and leggings and 
 hung them up, and drawing closer to the fire, helped 
 himself from a magic pot there, and ate his supper 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 123 
 
 as well as he could within hearing of the Magician, 
 who, every time that he raised a morsel to his lips, 
 uttered a deep groan. At length his keen appetite 
 taxed the Magician too far, who could restrain his 
 impatience no longer, and broke in with, "Ah! 
 young man, I fear me from the way you relish your 
 supper, you cannot feel the pity that would nerve 
 you to encounter the danger of your enterprise." 
 Here the Magician began to groan louder than ever, 
 swaying to and fro, holding his sore head between 
 his hands. " Indeed," replied Ojibwa, " you do me 
 injustice: I do but repair my strength, the better to 
 execute your commands." " True, true," rejoined 
 the old man. " Good youth, I was hasty ; you do 
 well to eat heartily ; you will need all your energies. 
 Eat, then, as much as you please." 
 
 Ojibwa, after he had finished his supper, tried 
 his best to recall all the dreams that he had had 
 within a week, and meanwhile the old man drew up 
 close to him and peered into his face. After some 
 consideration he began the recital. At the conclu 
 sion of each dream the old man groaned and said, 
 "No, no, that is not it: couldn t you dream some 
 thing better than that?" Ojibwa at last got pro 
 voked, and was saying to himself, " Who the deuce 
 are you, that I should tell my dreams at your request, 
 if this is the thanks that I get for my pains!" when 
 
124 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 he checked himself. The Magician, however, seemed 
 to know what had passed through his mind, and said, 
 soothingly, "Have you no more dreams?" "Yes," 
 replied Ojibwa, " I have one more." " Tell it, by 
 all means," said the Magician. Ojibwa told it, and 
 the Magician sprang joyfully to his feet, crying, 
 " That is it, that is it that is the very thing." Sud 
 denly he dropped on his seat, and clapped his hands 
 to his head, moaning, and crying, " Oh, the wretches, 
 they are insulting it this very instant! But I will be 
 revenged on them yet," said he, reviving, and pluck 
 ing up courage. " Young man, to-morrow you will 
 go directly towards the west. In the first village on 
 your path you will find the people dancing and mak 
 ing merry around my scalp. You will have the 
 power to transform yourself into anything you please, 
 so as to approach unseen and capture it. On your 
 return, change yourself into a hawk, and give a shrill 
 cry for a signal to me. I will hold my head out of 
 the window, so that, the moment you arrive, you 
 can restore my scalp to its proper place. And," he 
 added, "my enemies would try in vain to get it again: 
 I would defend it to the last drop of my blood." 
 
 Daylight saw Ojibwa afoot and ready to start. 
 " Hold!" said the old Magician ; " it is best for both of 
 us that you should see the prize for which you have 
 undergone so much fatigue, and are now about to risk 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 125 
 
 your life. He tapped gently on a partition that di 
 vided the lodge into two equal parts. A communi 
 cating door flew open and revealed a young girl of 
 such transcendent beauty, that Ojibwa grew faint with 
 delight. " Behold the Scarlet Swan !" said the Magi 
 cian to the agitated young man, and the door closed 
 slowly on the lovely vision. " For the chance of 
 winning her hand," resumed the Magician to Ojibwa, 
 who stood rooted to the ground, " many a warrior 
 has cheerfully laid down his life. Think you not 
 she is a prize for which the best and bravest might 
 cheerfully peril all?" 
 
 " Old man," replied Ojibwa, "you say well : dan 
 ger flies the path that leads to her ;" saying which, 
 he darted out of the lodge, and over the country, at 
 an incredible speed. For several hours he rushed 
 along at the same rate, until feeling that he must be 
 approaching the scene of his adventure, he slackened 
 his speed and at last fell into a slow walk, to gain 
 time to think, so as to lay his plans with caution. 
 Shortly before noon he heard in the distance the hum 
 of many voices, and going slowly forward, came in 
 full view of the village of which he was in search. 
 Then he took advantage of every little hillock and 
 clump of bushes to screen his advance, until, reach 
 ing a tall pine at the edge of the village, he climbed 
 rapidly into its branches, and from his hiding-place 
 
126 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 commanded a full view of the scene. In the centre 
 of the village stood a pole, from which, swinging to 
 and fro in the breeze, dangled the Magician s scalp, 
 around which crowds of people were shouting and 
 capering with delight. Ojibwa noticed that the wind 
 blew from him towards the pole, and after a moment s 
 pause, wished himself transformed into the down of 
 a thistle. Instantly he felt himself become light as 
 air. Wafting along the breeze, and sinking slowly 
 towards the scalp, he rested fairly on it. 
 
 Meanwhile the dance continued, accompanied by 
 shouts and insults directed at the scalp. All at once 
 the attention of the people was arrested by a shrill 
 scream from the direction of the pole, and looking 
 up, they caught sight of a hawk bearing off the scalp 
 in his clutches. The shouts hushed, and dancers and 
 spectators ran wildly to and fro, picking up stones and 
 throwing them at the bird, which barely escaped 
 being struck during a few moments desperate strug 
 gle to rise, when it swept along just out of reach. 
 Then it soared on high, and was lost to sight amid 
 the mad roar of the people. 
 
 As Ojibwa winged his way along, the angry 
 sounds growing fainter and fainter in the distance, 
 he rent the air with shrill cries of triumph, to notify 
 the Magician of his approach. Soon he came in 
 sight of the old man lolling half-way out of the 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 12f 
 
 window, eager to have his scalp applied to his 
 raw head. He alighted and resumed his natural 
 shape ; but in his haste to relieve the old Magician 
 from his long misery, dealt him such a whack, 
 that he knocked him into the lodge, heels, over 
 head, senseless. He leaped through the window, and 
 propping the old man on his knee, strove to revive 
 him, and soon had the pleasure of seeing signs of 
 returning life. But what was his astonishment to 
 see him, as he recovered, change from an old man 
 into a young one of surpassing beauty, in whom he 
 recognized a marvellous resemblance to the Scarlet 
 Swan ! 
 
 "You have my thanks," said the young Magician, 
 rising with a majestic air, "for having delivered me 
 from my long enchantment; although," added he, 
 "your zeal liked to have sent me beyond the reach 
 of suffering. Nobly have you earned your reward : 
 your happiness shall not be delayed, nor your 
 services remain long unrequited." Thus speaking, 
 he turned towards the partition, and tapping jt, 
 the door flew open and disclosed the Scarlet Swan, 
 radiant in beauty and smiles. " Sister," continued 
 the Magician, "you see your future husband ; are 
 you content ?" The Scarlet Swan, with an arch look 
 stepped through the doorway, arid taking Ojibwa s 
 hand in hers, colored deeply as she cast down her 
 
128 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 eyes and breathed softly the words, " None more so 
 on earth." The whole air seemed to Ojibwa redo 
 lent of perfume, filled with the roseate hue of her 
 blush, and tingling with the sweet . accents of her 
 voice. He caught her rapturously in his arms, pressed 
 her to his bosom, but, as suddenly releasing her, ex 
 claimed tenderly, " Forgive me ; I could not speak." 
 The Magician looked on with a pleased smile at 
 these transports. When they had ended, he motioned 
 his sister to withdraw. When he and Ojibwa were 
 once more alone, he said: "I cannot go with you, or 
 I would, and it is not safe for you to stay. I must 
 not, however, let my sister, who is very dear to 
 me, depart without advice for her future guidance ; 
 nor you, to whom I owe so much gratitude, without 
 some further token of my remembrance." So saying, 
 he waved his hand courteously, as he retired to the 
 other apartment of the lodge, whence he in a short 
 time returned, leading in his sister. Taking from a 
 chest various rich stuffs and precious jewels, he pre 
 sented them to Ojibwa, and said: "This is my sis 
 ter s dowry." Finally he placed his sister s hand in 
 Ojibwa s, and conducting them to the door of the 
 lodge, imprinted a kiss upon her brow, and turning 
 to him, said : " If ever you need aid, seek me here, 
 where I shall remain, unless my enemies prove again 
 more powerful than I." 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 129 
 
 Ojibwa and his bride, linked lovingly together, 
 left the door, and silently threaded their way through 
 the fields, until lost in the misty blue of twilight ; 
 but when darkness came, he drew her close to his side 
 and whispered, " dearest, what joy to pass the 
 night alone with thee beneath the starry canopy of 
 heaven!" and she, nestling close to him, laid her head 
 upon his shoulder, and answered by a gentle pressure 
 of the hand. 
 
 The young couple stopped at the lodge of the 
 friendly Magician who had directed Ojibwa on his 
 journey, and there passed the next night. They were 
 kindly welcomed and entertained; Ojibwa gave an 
 account of his adventure, and in the morning was 
 dismissed laden with presents. 
 
 Ojibwa, although he had doubts about the pru 
 dence of presenting himself at the villages through 
 which he had passed, lest his appearance with his 
 bride might be taken as an insult to the Chiefs and 
 their daughters, finally made up his mind not to go 
 out of his way, but to put a bold face on the matter, 
 and stop and get the two girls for wives for his 
 brothers. Accordingly, he entered the first village, 
 and taking his bride by the hand, led her right up 
 to the lodge of the Chief. As soon as the usual 
 ceremonies were over, he laid at the feet of the Chief 
 some of the gifts with which the Magicians had pre- 
 12 
 
130 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 sented him. The Chief was so delighted at their 
 variety and richness, that he redoubled the warmth 
 of his reception. Then he said to Ojibwa: "My 
 son, I see that you were in quest of another bride 
 when I wished to give you my daughter, and that I 
 made a mistake. If the brothers of whom you 
 spoke resemble you at all, I am satisfied that one of 
 them should possess her. She will go with you 
 when you think proper to depart." Ojibwa glanced 
 at the girl and caught her stealing a look at his 
 beautiful bride, and then mournfully sighing and 
 casting down her eyes. All would have been well, 
 however, if it had not been for the interference of a 
 booby who was in love with the Chief s daughter, 
 although she had never given him the slightest 
 encouragement to woo her : there is no town so 
 small that it has not half a dozen such fellows. As 
 Ojibwa was about to reply to the Chief, this youth 
 blustered up, saying, " Who is this insolent fellow, 
 that dares to come here with his presents, to take the 
 pick of our girls for himself and his brothers. I 
 am a better man than any of them." With that, he 
 made a feint as if to stab Ojibwa with a long knife 
 that he held. Ojibwa looked at him contemptuously 
 from head to foot, as he swaggered, waiting for some 
 one to hold him back, for he was an arrant coward ; 
 and then, turning towards the Chief, expressed his 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 131 
 
 thanks with dignified courtesy for the kindness with 
 which he had been received and treated, and signified 
 his intention of staying in the village that night, and 
 of resuming his journey in the morning. The Chief 
 replied that all he possessed was at the service of 
 Ojibwa, and ordered him and his bride to be con 
 ducted to a handsome lodge, where they passed the 
 night. 
 
 On the following morning Ojibwa and his bride, 
 and the Chief s daughter, who seemed quite reconciled 
 to the idea of getting one of Ojibwa s brothers for a 
 husband, since she could not get him, started on 
 their journey to the first village at which he had 
 arrived in his pursuit of the Scarlet Swan. In the 
 course of a week they reached the place, and Ojibwa 
 entering, leading his bride by the hand, and followed 
 by the girl, presented himself at the lodge of the 
 Chief. Here his reception was not less gracious than 
 it had been in the other village. He laid at the feet 
 of the Chief some of the presents that had been 
 given him by the Magicians, and the Chief, on ex 
 amining them, became profuse in his expressions of 
 good-will. The Chief requested the young man to 
 tell the story of his late adventures, and at its con 
 clusion informed him that his brothers had come as 
 far as the village, searching for him, but had not 
 had the courage to go beyond. Seeing how matters 
 
132 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 stood with- Ojibwa, he seemed to wish forgotten his 
 attempt to force his daughter as a wife upon him. 
 He remarked that, as Ojibwa had a wife for himself, 
 and a wife for one of his brothers, he should be 
 happy to crown his success by bestowing upon him 
 his daughter for the remaining brother. In the 
 morning the Chief and a large band of his warriors, 
 dancing and shouting merrily, and shooting flights of 
 arrows, escorted on their way the party composed of 
 Ojibwa, his bride, and the two Chieftains daughters. 
 Not until late in the day did they bid the travellers 
 farewell and return to their village. 
 
 After several days more travelling, Ojibwa and 
 his party reached home. According to custom, the 
 girls waited for him to advance and announce the 
 arrival of strangers. He crept quietly up to the 
 well-known lodge of his childhood, from which 
 he had been absent not quite two months, but which 
 he felt as though he had not seen for an age. Peeping 
 through a crack, he caught sight of his brothers, one 
 seated on each side of a dead fire the picture of woe. 
 In token of mourning they had smirched their faces 
 with charcoal, sprinkled ashes on their heads, and 
 scattered them over the floor. Mudjekeewis, in order 
 to make his mourning more effective, had stuck a 
 tuft of swan s down on top of his head, and looked 
 like a great white-crested crow. 
 
THE SCARLET SWAN. 133 
 
 Ojibwa burst out laughing at the appearance of 
 his brothers, who, startled at the sound, came run 
 ning around the lodge, and met him going towards 
 the door. After a greeting as affectionate as he 
 could make it, for laughing, he in a few words 
 informed them of all that was urgent for them to 
 know, and having induced them hastily to scour off the 
 signs of mourning, and put the lodge in order, went 
 forth to summon the girls. When the girls entered, 
 Shawano behaved with propriety ; but Mudjekeewis, 
 who was a great gawk, cast his eyes sheepishly away 
 from the one destined for him, then suddenly looked 
 at her and tittered, and began to say something, when 
 he as suddenly clapped his mouth to, and sat as silent 
 and grave as a judge till some new freak seized him. 
 Shawano soon left the lodge with his mistress, to 
 saunter with her through the Forest, and enjoy the 
 pleasure of unrestrained intercourse. Mudjekeewis, 
 looking up, and seeing that they had gone, broke into 
 a broad grin, and leaping to his feet, said to his 
 intended, " I will go shoot something nice for your 
 dinner :" and off he went. 
 
 Need it be said how happy they were thenceforth ? 
 All that they had thought they needed to complete 
 their happiness were wives : but they had more, thev 
 had good and lovely women for wives. Soon the prat 
 tle of children was heard in and around their dwell- 
 
 12* 
 
134 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 ings, and the lonely spot in the Forest became a para 
 dise; and soon, around the place which the lodges 
 occupied, sprang up the chief town of a country 
 occupied by a great, warlike, and prosperous tribe, 
 over which, by universal consent, Ojibwa ruled. 
 
THE STOET OF HAEKA, 
 
 mother and I are both tired," said 
 a hunter, on returning from the chase, to 
 his youthful son, Harka, "so do you go to the spring 
 for water." " It is so dark, I am afraid," replied the 
 youth. " Don t be a coward," rejoined the father ; 
 "the darkness won t hurt you." But for all that his 
 father and his mother could say, the youth obsti 
 nately refused to go, and his father had to go himself. 
 Harka bitterly repented his refusal ; for the story 
 getting wind, he was so teased about his conduct as 
 to make his life miserable. Now, he was by no means 
 a coward; he felt a timidity about going out in the 
 dark, for which he could not account even to him 
 self: he feared nothing in particular, only some 
 unknown beings with which his imagination peopled 
 the darkness. So, when he found that through his 
 folly he had earned a reputation that he did not de 
 serve, he said to himself: " There is but one way for 
 me to gain a better one ; I will do what no one else 
 dares attempt ; I will seek and destroy, in the fast 
 nesses of his island-home, the dread Pahundootah, 
 the Sorcerer, the terror of the whole land." 
 
136 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Having fully made up his mind, he, one morning, 
 bright and early, quietly sauntered forth from the 
 lodge of his parents, and entering a glade in the Fo 
 rest, shot an arrow with all his might and main. He 
 walked steadily forward, and at nightfall found the 
 arrow in the heart of a deer. He supped heartily 
 from a haunch of it, slept soundly, and the next morn 
 ing shot another arrow, which, by night, he as before 
 found in the heart of a deer. Thus he journeyed for 
 four days, but on the evening of the fifth, found him 
 self without food, because he had been so careless as 
 to leave his arrows sticking in the deer. He threw 
 himself on the ground, hungry, tired, and despon 
 dent. He had not lain there long before he was start 
 led by a hollow, rumbling noise, and, springing up, he 
 saw a gaunt female figure stalking along with a staff. 
 It was going from a lake to a lodge, neither of which, 
 strange to say, had he before seen. Something there 
 was so weird about the figure, that he approached it 
 cautiously. Great was his horror and dismay, when 
 within a few paces, to find himself face to face with 
 the terrible Witch, Wokonkatonzooeyepekahaitchee. 
 Her face was long, bony, bearded, hook-nosed, and 
 fierce eyed; her staff shod with a baby s skull, and 
 tipped with birds heads and claws; and her cloak 
 made of women s scalps, with long flowing hair. As 
 the young man stood horrified, gazing at her, she 
 
THE STOR Y OF HAEKA. 13f 
 
 twitched her staff and cloak, and instantly the 
 birds heads chirped and sang, the scalps flew up 
 and down, venting shrill screams of laughter, and 
 the Witch, with shrieks and yells, joined in the in 
 fernal chorus. It rose and fell in fitful blasts, until 
 the young man could with terror have sunk to the 
 earth. Suddenly it ceased, and the Witch said in as 
 soothing a tone as her hoarse voice could command : 
 " Enough ! thy courage suffices. I know thou seek- 
 est the life of Pahundootah, the Eed Head : so do I, 
 therefore we are friends. Follow me." The young 
 man, plucking up courage, followed the Witch to the 
 lodge by the shore of the lake. "Enter," said she, 
 leading the way. She laid aside her staff and cloak, 
 which movement set the birds heads to singing and 
 the scalps to laughing, the Witch chiming in as if 
 she could not resist the influence. " I am," she re 
 sumed, turning towards the young man, after she 
 had divested herself of her outer apparel, "the dire 
 enemy of Pahundootah, and will put into thy hands 
 the means to destroy him. Approach." While 
 speaking she had taken from a chest a leaden comb, 
 a blade of sword-grass, a golden goblet, and a woman s 
 dress of beautiful shape and texture. She now passed 
 the comb through the young man s locks, and every 
 time she did so, they grew longer and longer, glossier 
 and glossier, until they swept like a golden mantle 
 
138 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 down to his knees. Then she assisted him to put on 
 the beautiful dress, and placed in his girdle the blade 
 of sword-grass. Finally, she handed him the glitter 
 ing golden goblet. "Listen," said she; "thou wilt de 
 part now, and by morning reach the shore of the lake, 
 opposite the island on which Pahundootah, with his 
 followers, dwells. Approach it, and with the goblet 
 dip water from the lake. Thou wilt be seen from 
 the island, and Pahundootah, coming to seize thee 
 as his victim, will yield himself captive to thy charms. 
 He will woo and propose to wed thee. Thou wilt 
 consent to be his bride, and wilt seize the first oppor 
 tunity to cut off his head with the charmed blade of 
 sword-grass which thou bearest in thy girdle. Speed 
 away." 
 
 By sunrise the next morning Harka had reached 
 the shore opposite the island on which was the Sor 
 cerer s abode. Drawing the golden goblet from a 
 fold in his dress, he stooped and dipped water from 
 the lake. The Sun s rays striking on it sent a golden 
 gleam, like a meteor s, across the water. He could 
 perceive on the island a stir as of people moving. Soon 
 a canoe shot out from shore, and swept towards 
 him, propelled by many paddles. As it drew near 
 he could see by its lofty prow, curved staunchly like 
 a galley s, by its gay streamers, and by the number 
 of its rowers, that it must be Pahundootah s. It 
 
THE STORY OF HARKA. 139 
 
 touched the strand, and Pahundootah rose from his 
 seat, and, shading his eyes with one hand, gazed 
 with admiration upon the lovely vision before him. 
 Harka almost quailed before the Sorcerer s baleful 
 glance ; but, summoning up his courage to succeed 
 or die, cast down his eyes and counterfeited the bear 
 ing of a modest, pretty maiden. The Sorcerer, a 
 brawny Giant, whose shock head of hair stood erect 
 from his crown like a red dahlia s petals, paused for 
 a few moments, while he still gazed in rapture ere 
 he spoke. "Beauteous damsel," sighed he at length, 
 " the light that heralded thy presence pales before 
 that of thine eyes. Enter my canoe, and I will bear 
 thee where, in these loving arms thou wilt, pass thy 
 life in bliss." Harka cast a doubtful glance at the 
 canoe, the ribs of which were formed of rattlesnakes, 
 whose heads peered hissing above the sides. At a 
 word from their master, they were mute, and Harka 
 sprang lightly into the canoe, and seated himself be 
 side the Sorcerer. 
 
 As soon as the party had landed on the island, 
 the most splendid preparations were made to cele 
 brate the nuptials. The rugged brow of the Giant 
 Sorcerer was smoothed, and his servile attendants 
 ransacked their invention to please him by every 
 device that could contribute to the splendor of the 
 festival. All seemed overjoyed, save one, the Sor- 
 
140 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 cerer s mother. She, with scowling face, had been 
 for some time suspiciously regarding Harka. At 
 last she drew her son aside, and whispered: "Art 
 thou blind, or art thou mad, that thou dost not see 
 this is no girl? Infatuated man, canst thou not 
 see, despite the pretty face and long hair, the ex 
 pression, the glance, the whole port are a man s." 
 " Folly! folly !" replied the son, trying to escape from 
 his mother. " What old woman s tale is this thou 
 bringest me." " Folly, indeed !" cried the now in 
 furiated "old woman ; " bitterly, if thou dost not heed 
 me, wilt thou repent thine thou art a man, I say it 
 to thy face," she shrieked at Harka, who had been 
 watching the by-play between her and her son, and 
 had seen that it boded him no good. This was the 
 hardest trial that he had had to endure. Although 
 so nearly thrown off his guard as to betray his dis 
 guise, he was nerved by desperation to make an effort 
 for his life, if not for success in his enterprise. 
 Feigning deep indignation, therefore, he rose from 
 his seat, and meeting undismayed the stormy glances 
 of the Sorcerer s mother, slowly bent his steps to 
 wards the point at which he had landed. Pahun- 
 dootah, casting a withering glance of scorn at her, 
 followed Harka, and protested that he bore no 
 share in her misconduct. Harka at last consented 
 to take the Sorcerer s arm, and thus they sauntered 
 
THE STORY OF IIARKA. 141 
 
 far away from the intended scene of revelry. As 
 the shades of evening were deepening, they found 
 themselves reclining on a lonely shore, washed at 
 their feet by the ripples of the lake. Then Harka 
 contrived to get the Sorcerer s head in his lap, and 
 gently caressing him, lulled him into slumber. He 
 lost not a moment, but stealthily drawing the blade 
 of sword-grass from his girdle, with a single cut 
 severed the Sorcerer s head from his shoulders, leaped 
 to his feet, seized the head by the hair, and springing 
 into the water, swam over to the mainland. As he 
 reached shore, he knew by the flitting of lights on 
 the island, that search was being made for them, and 
 then, by a faint wail, that the body had been found, 
 when he hurried on faster than ever. 
 
 The Witch received Harka with delight, and ex 
 tolled his bravery to the skies. He would gladly 
 have tried to rid the world of her, had he not consi 
 dered himself in honor bound not to attempt her 
 life. "Keturn," said she, "to thy tribe. Henceforth 
 thou wilt be reckoned the bravest of the brave." 
 Harka lost not a moment s time, but hastened back, 
 bearing the head of the Sorcerer. As some boys, 
 a few days afterwards, caught sight of him entering 
 the village, they set up a shout of derision, but 
 soon smothered it as they beheld the grim trophy 
 that he carried. The air rang with the acclamations 
 
 13 
 
142 
 
 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 of the people, as they thronged around to greet the 
 youth who had been afraid of the dark, but had 
 lived to prove himself the bravest warrior of his 
 tribe. 
 
THE WHITE-FISH, 
 
 VIXENISH dame had been laid in her 
 grave, and, as her husband and two sons 
 fondly imagined, rested in peace. But, not satisfied 
 with having tormented them during her life, she 
 haunted them after her death. Alone or together, 
 afield or indoors, from eve to morn, they could not 
 count on a moment s repose; at every point at 
 which they happened to look, she appeared gibber 
 ing and mowing at them. At last they could no 
 longer bear the infliction, but hastily collecting their 
 scanty stock of valuables, deserted their home. 
 Journeying along the shores of Lake Superior, by 
 day hunting, by night resting, if resting it could be 
 called, in the presence of their tormentor, who nightly 
 appeared in her most hideous guise, at dusk one even 
 ing they reached the Falls of St. Mary. They were 
 debating how to cross the river, when they caught 
 sight of the Ghost flitting towards them along the 
 beach. A stately Crane stood on a rock arnid the 
 rapids. " Grandfather," the fugitives with one voice 
 shouted, " help us to escape this evil Spirit." The 
 Crane must have been a powerful Wizard in dis 
 guise, for no sooner had he heard this appeal, than 
 
144 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 stretching up to an immense height, he turned slowly, 
 as on a pivot, and lowered his head so that they 
 could reach it. "When they had clambered up on 
 his neck, and were secure in their places, he said : 
 " Take care you don t touch the sore spot on the 
 back of my head, or I shall flinch and toss you all 
 into the rapids," and turned slowly around, and set 
 them down safely on the opposite side of the river. 
 The Crane had hardly resumed his former position, 
 and shrunk to his usual size, when the Ghost ap 
 peared, and squeaked: "Grandfather, help me across, 
 to catch my ungrateful runaway husband and chil 
 dren." The Crane stretched up, then lowered his 
 neck, and uttering the same caution that he had 
 given to those whom he had already ferried over, 
 took her on his neck, and was turning around, when 
 her curiosity got the better of her discretion, she 
 touched the sore spot on his head, and he gave a 
 violent start and tossed her into the rapids. " There," 
 cried he; "henceforth you will be of some use." As 
 she was dashed to pieces on the rocks a pale film 
 spread through the waters, from which hatched fish 
 which have ever since been reckoned among the 
 daintiest of that region. 
 
THE HUNTER THAT JOURNEYED TO THE HOME 
 OF THE SUN. 
 
 HERE was a young hunter who lived far 
 north, where the winters are long and cold. 
 A dark Forest of pine trees covers the land, and for 
 nearly the whole year the ice and snow remain on 
 the mountains. Corn cannot grow there, and one 
 must be a skilful hunter always to have plenty of 
 food. But the young man, I speak of, was skil 
 ful, and every day he went forth into the gloomy 
 Forest, with his quiver full of arrows, and his dog 
 by his side, and every evening he returned loaded 
 with game. 
 
 The reason why he was so diligent and so brave 
 was that he loved a certain young maiden of the 
 tribe, and he wished to show her parents that he 
 was worthy of her, arid could always support her. 
 The maiden also loved him, and was happy in the 
 thought that her parents approved of her choice, and 
 had consented that after a certain time she should 
 become his wife. 
 
 As the wedding-day approached, the young 
 hunter determined to make a long journey to a lake 
 where he could fill his canoe with wild-fowl, and 
 supply the meat for his wedding-feast. He set forth, 
 
 13* 
 
146 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and after being absent a number of days, returned 
 with his canoe filled with ducks and geese. As he 
 approached the lodge where the maiden lived, he 
 saw that it was closed and deserted. Her father and 
 mother approached him in tears, and told him that, 
 during his absence, she had suddenly sickened and 
 died. Just at the moment of his arrival they were 
 returning from the hillside where they had left her 
 body. 
 
 The young hunter was plunged in melancholy : 
 all his hopes were destroyed, and the world seemed 
 at once to lose its beauty and brightness. He turned 
 from his friends who had gathered around to console 
 him, and went off alone into the woods, to conceal 
 his grief and indulge it in solitude. 
 
 As he was wandering under the fir-trees, hardly 
 knowing what he was doing, or where he was going, 
 he saw, seated on a fallen trunk, one of the oldest 
 and wisest men of the tribe, who had often aided 
 him with good advice in hunting and fishing. A 
 sudden thought flashed across the young hunter s 
 mind. " Perhaps this wise old man can even tell 
 where the spirit goes after death, and then the maiden 
 may still be found?" Approaching him, he related 
 the sad event that had just occurred, and inquired 
 what had become of her whom he so dearly loved, 
 
THE HUNTER THAT JOURNEYED TO THE SUN. 14*7 
 
 and with whom, but a few days before, he had passed 
 such happy moments. 
 
 "You ask a hard question," replied the old man, 
 "but I will tell you what our forefathers have 
 handed down to us. When the body dies, the spirit, 
 which has the appearance of the breath you blow on 
 a frosty morning, leaves it, and journeys to the Home 
 of the Sun. There it will remain until a great flood 
 shall come and wash the world clean, when the 
 spirits of all those who have been good and brave 
 shall return to their bodies, and live a long and 
 happy life." 
 
 "And where," said the young hunter, "is the 
 Home of the Sun?" 
 
 "It is in the far south," replied the old man, 
 " where you see the Sun loves to retire in winter, 
 when it is cold." 
 
 The hunter thanked his old friend, and returned 
 to his village. Without mentioning to any one his 
 design, he determined to journey to the Home of the 
 Sun, and either bring back the maiden, or live there 
 with her. He therefore provided himself with dried 
 venison enough for a long journey, and calling his 
 trusty dog, secretly set out that night, going in a 
 direction opposite to that of the north star. By sun 
 rise he was far on his journey south. 
 
 He continued walking rapidly all day. Towards 
 
148 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 night he had reached a strange land, such as he had 
 never before seen. The Forest was thick, and of 
 many kinds of trees; the meadows were covered 
 with rich grass, and the brooks lined with pretty 
 flowers. In one of the pleasant groves he built a 
 fire, and calling his dog to his side, lay down and 
 slept soundly the night through. 
 
 The next day, and the next, and the next, he 
 pursued his course without slackening his speed. 
 Every day the San seemed to grow nearer and 
 warmer. The woods became filled with birds of 
 bright plumage, which sang pleasant notes, as if to 
 encourage him ; the trees spread over him dark 
 green leaves of strange and beautiful forms, as if to 
 protect him from the mid-day heat ; and the flowers 
 he trod under foot flung around him their many- 
 colored leaves and sweet odors. He regarded all 
 these as signs that he must be drawing near the 
 Home of the Sun and the Happy Hunting Grounds, 
 about which the old man had spoken. 
 
 Near sunset on the fourth day, he saw before 
 him a high hill on which was a small lodge. In 
 front of the lodge was sitting on old man, withered 
 with age, but still apparently active. He beckoned 
 to the hunter to approach, who was very glad to 
 meet some one from whom he might inquire his 
 way. As he came near, the old man said : " You 
 
THE HUNTER THAT JOURNEYED TO THE SUN. 149 
 
 need not explain to me the object of your journey: 
 I know where you wish to go, and I will give you 
 advice how to proceed. You are now at the end of 
 the world: on the other side of this hill is the 
 great river which separates the land on which men 
 live from the Home of the Sun." 
 
 "And how can I get across it?" interrupted the 
 impatient youth. 
 
 " I will tell you," replied his adviser. " There 
 are two ways. In one part the river is narrow, deep, 
 and very swift. There a single, slender trunk of a 
 tree is stretched from one bank to the other, over 
 which you would have to walk. If you are worthy 
 to be admitted to the Home of the Sun, this would not 
 be difficult; but if unworthy, then, no sooner would 
 you be in the middle of the bridge, than the log would 
 suddenly turn into a gigantic snake, which would 
 shake you off of its slippery back, and you would fall 
 into the water and be hurried away by the roaring 
 current. In another part the river is wide and 
 shallow, in fact a lake. There you will find a canoe 
 which would carry you across, if you are fit to go ; 
 but if not, it would sink in the middle of the lake, and 
 your feet would be caught in the quicksands, so that 
 you could never gain either shore." 
 
 "Well," said the young man, "to-morrow morn 
 ing I will try the canoe." 
 
150 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 He passed the night in the lodge, and, early the 
 next morning, crossed the hill to the shore of the 
 lake. Many canoes were along the shore, but they 
 were all cut out of stone, and had neither sails nor 
 paddles. They were fastened to the shadows of trees 
 by ropes of sand. Every few moments one would of 
 its own accord shoot out over the water. At first 
 the hunter thought that they carried no passengers, 
 but on looking more closely, he saw shadowy forms 
 sitting in them, like those little clouds of mist we 
 can make with our breath on a frosty morning. 
 
 Summoning his courage and calling his trusty 
 dog, the hunter entered one of the canoes, and 
 touched the rope of sand. In an instant i t fell to 
 pieces, and the boat shot out into the lake. As it 
 sped swiftly through the still waters, he saw around 
 him the heads of many unfortunate beings, just 
 above the surface. They were those of persons 
 whose canoes had sunk, and whose feet becoming 
 fastened in the quicksands, had to remain in that 
 sad plight forever. He saw in the distance the shore 
 of an island covered with drooping verdure and 
 many-colored flowers: this he rightly supposed 
 was the Home of the Sun. He reached it in the 
 afternoon. The sand along the beach was bright as 
 beads of wampum; sweet odors were wafted from 
 the hills, by gentle winds; and over the whole 
 
THE HUNTER THAT JOURNEYED TO THE SUN. 151 
 
 hung continually a brilliant rainbow. Cornfields that 
 needed no cultivation showed ripe, golden ears among 
 their long green leaves. Game of all sorts wandered 
 through the Forest, birds sang, and rich fruit hung in 
 clusters among the boughs. This was the delightful 
 home of those good people that had always been 
 brave warriors, diligent hunters, and industrious 
 wives and daughters. 
 
 But the young hunter paid little attention to all 
 these beauties, for he saw standing on the shore, 
 ready to receive him, the maiden he loved. Spring 
 ing from the canoe as it touched the strand, he 
 hastened to her, and folded her in his arms. She 
 returned his embrace, and told him that the Spirit of 
 the Sun was awaiting his arrival. It was now nearly 
 sunset, and the Sun, who kindly lights and warms 
 men during the day, comes every night to pass the 
 time in this delightful home. 
 
 They therefore walked in pleasant converse 
 through the odorous groves, to the lodge of the 
 Ruler. This was on a lofty mountain, from which 
 one had a view of the whole land. The Spirit soon 
 came, and received the young man kindly, and told 
 him why he had been permitted to succeed in his 
 unusual journey. 
 
 "No man," said the Sun Spirit, u has ever before 
 come here in his mortal body, and no Spirit has ever 
 
152 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 returned to the tribe. I learned that, for this reason, 
 my children, especially the young men, were coming to 
 disbelieve that there are any Happy Hunting Grounds, 
 or that any care is necessary during life, in order that 
 they may enjoy this pleasant abode. You, for your 
 boldness, your worth, and for the true love you bear 
 this maiden, I deemed proper to encourage and to 
 allow to see the Land of Spirits. For one Moon 
 you may stay with your loved one, and then you 
 must return to your village and tell your companions 
 what you have seen and learned. And in order that 
 they may show me that they do not forget me, let 
 them build a fire for four nights on the grave of each 
 one that dies. Do not grieve at being obliged to 
 return to your village : in a few years you shall 
 come back to this pleasant land to stay with her you 
 love, forever." 
 
 When the young hunter heard this, he bowed his 
 head, and thanked the Spirit of the Sun for his 
 kindness. He passed the allotted month with his 
 love, and then returning north to his native village, 
 carefully told his tribe all that he had seen and 
 learned. This is why, to this day, whenever one of 
 them dies, the friends build for four nights a fire on 
 the grave. 
 
MOTHEK KWAY AND HER BEAUTIFUL 
 DAUGHTER, 
 
 the Sand Dunes, on Lake Michigan, 
 lived an old Witch, called Mother Kway, 
 who had a most beautiful and discreet daughter. 
 Every one admired the girl s excellent gifts, and 
 indeed hardly too much could be said in their praise. 
 Mother Kway took it into her head, on this account, 
 that every one was conspiring to steal the girl, shut 
 her up in a box, and moored it off in the lake by a 
 long string. At night she tied the string fast to her 
 big toe, so that if anybody interfered with the box, 
 she could feel a nibble. In the morning she pulled 
 the box ashore, seated. her daughter on a rock, 
 combed her long golden hair, and then shoved her 
 off again into the lake. 
 
 One morning, as the girl sat on the rock, with 
 her golden hair streaming over her shoulders, a 
 young man who had fallen in love with her at first 
 sight, and often passed that way to catch a glimpse 
 of her, modestly seated himself a short distance off, 
 and said to the old woman: "Will you not give me 
 your daughter in marriage ? With rne she will be 
 safe, and you at ease, and we may all be ever so 
 happy together." The old Witch, turning on him 
 
 14 
 
154 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 her forbidding countenance, replied: "Give you my 
 
 daughter, you ! Are you a Prince ?" The young 
 
 man was so wounded at this savage reply, that, 
 without saying a word, he gave one long look 
 at the girl, and pursued his way by the shore of the 
 lake. He told his uncle, with whom he lived, the 
 story of his love and of the slight he had received. 
 His uncle consoled him by remarking that, what 
 can t be cured must be endured, one shouldn t cry 
 over spilt milk, there are as good fish in the sea 
 as ever were caught, and by repeating sundry other 
 wise sayings invented for the relief of the unfortu 
 nate. While the uncle was uttering these words of 
 wisdom, and the nephew grieving as though he did 
 not feel their full weight, powerful allies, of whom 
 they knew nothing, had determined to befriend 
 them. The Spirits that dwell on the shores of the 
 lake were displeased with the conduct of old Mother 
 Kway, and had agreed to punish her. They raised 
 a strong wind, which lashed the waves, drove the 
 box from its moorings, and drifted it out of sight. 
 It stranded at a place across the lake, where no one 
 lived but a weazen old man, named Ishwon Daimeka, 
 who, seeing it tumbling through the surf, hobbled 
 down to the beach, hauled it ashore, and let out the 
 maiden. There she was forced to remain, and for 
 the sake of a home, to marry the old man. 
 
MOTHER KWAY AND HER DAUGHTER. 155 
 
 When Mother Kway found that her daughter 
 had been swept away by the storm, she set up such a 
 long and dismal howling as to destroy the comfort 
 and move the compassion of the Spirits, who at last 
 raised another storm to bring her daughter back. 
 The wind caused the tide to rise on the shore where 
 the girl was living, who, to save herself from drown 
 ing, leaped into the box. No sooner had she done 
 so, than the wind shifted and blew her straight across 
 the lake, to the dwelling of her mother, who was 
 rejoiced at getting her back, safe and sound, but was 
 shocked at finding that all her beauty was gone. 
 Just at the moment, it so happened, that the rejected 
 lover, passing by, stopped, attracted by the scene. 
 Recognizing him, Mother Kway called out, " You 
 asked me for my daughter s hand in marriage; I have 
 been thinking it over, and have made up my mind 
 to grant your request." " Your daughter," he re 
 plied, " /marry your daughter, 77 Is she a Princess, 
 to make up for her want of good looks !" So old 
 Mother Kway was fain to take her daughter home: 
 but she was no longer under the necessity of keep 
 ing her in a box ; nobody wanted her. All of 
 which goes to show that female charms overprized 
 and hoarded may fail of a market at last. 
 
THE LINNET AND THE EAGLE. 
 
 INGE upon a time all the birds of the air 
 assembled to contest the prize for strength 
 of wing. Most of them rose swiftly from the ground, 
 but the number ascending became gradually fewer 
 and fewer, until but one bird remained, that was 
 as a dark moving speck against the sky. By the 
 time that it had disappeared, the other birds had re 
 assembled on the ground, and, gazing upward, they 
 saw it reappear and grow into the Eagle, which, 
 alighting, claimed the prize. Scarcely had he done 
 so, when the Linnet appeared in the air, and, alight 
 ing, claimed to have surpassed the Eagle, because 
 being perched on the back of the Eagle when nearest 
 to the Sun, he had flown off and risen still higher. 
 
 But the common sense of the birds was not to be 
 so cheated, and they all declared the Eagle to be 
 doubly entitled to the prize ; for he had not only 
 risen to the greatest height, but, in so doing, had 
 borne the Linnet on his back. So, to the Eagle, 
 which had always been considered the bravest of 
 birds, was awarded the prize for strength of wing, 
 and ever since then his plumes have been reckoned 
 appropriate emblems of both strength and courage. 
 
THE THREE MAGIC ARROWS. 
 
 brothers with their wives and children 
 lived peacefully in a little settlement in the 
 Wilderness, when it entered the hearts of the two 
 eldest to covet the beautiful wife of the youngest. 
 Having no real grievance against him, the two 
 wicked brothers sought a pretext, and he was so 
 unlucky as to give them one. 
 
 One day a beautiful swan alighted in a lake near 
 their dwellings, and the youngest brother shot at it, 
 expending fruitlessly all the arrows in his quiver. 
 He ran home, and in the absence of his brothers, 
 and without their leave, took from his deceased 
 father s magic pouch, three magic arrows, which 
 were the joint property of the sons ; and again find 
 ing the swan, followed it until it disappeared below 
 a cliff overlooking a broad stream. Exhausted with 
 his exertions, he threw himself upon the ground, and 
 peering over the cliff, thought he could discern at 
 the bottom, across a sandy beach, the tracks of the 
 bird. Thinking, as he could not see it on the water, 
 and had not seen it rise from below the cliff, that it 
 must have alighted on and traversed the beach and 
 taken refuge in the tall sedge at the edge of the 
 
 14* 
 
158 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 stream, lie fitted one of the magic arrows to the bow 
 string, and shot it at the tracks, to mark the spot 
 before descending, and going some distance along the 
 cliff, came to a place from which he reached the 
 bottom. There he was astonished to find neither 
 tracks nor arrow, and with much labor regained the 
 point from which he had shot, thinking that he could 
 certainly see the arrow from the place whence it had 
 before been so plainly visible. He was mistaken, 
 however ; it seemed to have vanished. He sat for 
 some time considering what it would be best to do, 
 and then thought, as Shakespeare, who knew what 
 men think on every occasion, made one of his cha 
 racters think and say : 
 
 " In my school days, when I had lost one shaft, 
 I shot his fellow of the self-same flight, 
 The self-same way, with more advised watch, 
 To find the other forth ; and by adventuring both, 
 I oft found both." 
 
 The youth had never read Shakespeare, but he 
 thought as nearly as possible what I have told you, 
 and shot an arrow as nearly as he could in the di 
 rection which he imagined the other to have taken. 
 It struck and quivered in the beach, and near at 
 hand appeared the other arrow. He now joyfully 
 descended to regain them both, but not a trace of 
 either could he find. He clambered up the height and 
 
THE THREE MAGIC ARROWS. 159 
 
 scanned every foot of ground below : naught could he 
 see. He slowly fitted his last arrow to the string, 
 and shot it away at the beach. True to its direction 
 it alighted and quivered in the sand, and the other 
 arrows at once appeared. Nothing doubting of his 
 success now, he carefully examined their position, 
 and swiftly descended to the beach. Judge his 
 amazement the arrows had disappeared. His heart 
 sank within him as he wandered to and fro seeking 
 for them, until his footsteps formed a network in the 
 sand. Night found him still wandering to and fro, 
 and when he could no longer see, he laid himself 
 down on the beach, and propping his head against 
 the cliff, fell fast -asleep. 
 
 At daylight he resumed his search ; but all in vain : 
 the arrows were lost. He now began to realize 
 what he had done. The capture of the swan would 
 have diverted his brothers attention from his fault. 
 Now, as both swan and arrows were gone, what could 
 he say in his defence ? how should he dare present 
 himself before his brothers ? He was very sorry for 
 what he had done, and ashamed to show his face at 
 home, but he determined to return, acknowledge his 
 fault, and beg for forgiveness. He carried out his 
 good resolution, but failed to obtain pardon : day after 
 day his brothers taunted him with having stolen the 
 arrows. He for a long time bore their ill treatment, 
 
160 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 but at last his patience giving way, he hastily 
 promised to go forth into the world to search for the 
 arrows, and never to return without them. Now, the 
 very thing that the two wicked brothers wished was 
 to get rid of him :" they would willingly have sacri 
 ficed the arrows to secure that. So, after he had 
 made his rash promise, they gave him no peace with 
 their reproaches for not keeping it. Seeing it were 
 vain longer to contend against fate, he slowly and 
 sadly departed. He had made up his mind, and had 
 in secret told his wife of his intention, to go to the 
 lodge of a friendly Magician, and seek his counsel 
 and aid in the strait in which he found himself. 
 
 " I know for what you seek me, - said the friendly 
 Magician, on the appearance of the youth. " You must 
 go to the Spiritland of the Buffaloes, whose Chief is 
 the guardian of all arrows shot on earth. To guide 
 your course, take this flint, which by turns will grow 
 hot or cold, as you approach or recede from the place. 
 When it burns, so that you can no longer hold it, 
 your journey is ended. Farewell, there is no time to 
 lose ; your steps hitherward have lagged." 
 
 The youth seized the flint, and as though it had 
 imparted speed to his limbs, darted off like lightning. 
 He flew over the country, now here, now there, until 
 the warning flint showed him the direction that he 
 should take, and he vanished from the Magician s 
 
THE THREE MAGIC ARROWS. 161 
 
 sight. Without halt he scoured the earth until noon 
 of Ihe third day, when the burning flint escaped his 
 grasp; he dropped exhausted on the ground, and fell 
 into a deep sleep. 
 
 When he awoke, night had far advanced. Look 
 ing about, he saw, close by, the jagged outline of a 
 cavern s mouth, aglow in its depths with pale myste 
 rious light. Kising, he approached it, and casting a 
 glance beyond and downward, saw a boundless 
 prairie threaded by bright rivers, on which were 
 grazing countless herds of Buffalo. He advanced 
 boldly and descended to the plain, none of the beasts 
 seeking to molest or stay him, when suddenly uprose 
 before him a gigantic skeleton Buffalo, who ad 
 dressing him, said : "I am the Chief of these Spirits. 
 What seekest thou in this land, peopled by the 
 arrows of thy race?" 
 
 " I seek," replied the youth, " the three magic 
 arrows of my father, which were never used against 
 you. I purpose to do your race no harm, but, by 
 restoring them to my brothers, to regain their love." 
 " Take what is thine own, and never mind the rest," 
 said the Chief of the Spirit Buffaloes, presenting him 
 with a single arrow. He extended his hand and 
 received it, saying, "Give me also my brothers 
 arrows, I pray you." The Chief paused for a moment 
 
162 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 ere he replied, "Thou wilt find them where they 
 belong. Thine errand is done, now begone." 
 
 The youth retraced his steps to the entrance of 
 the cavern and emerged into broad day. Looking 
 back, the next instant, towards the cavern s mouth, 
 it had disappeared, and in its place towered a dark 
 crag. Turning his steps towards home, and using 
 his utmost speed, he reached there in three days 1 
 time. What was his amazement and horror to find 
 his lodge deserted, his brothers lying on the floor 
 weltering in their blood, pierced to the heart with 
 the two magic arrows! He rushed into the Forest, 
 shouting the name of his wife. Soon, at a distance, 
 he distinguished groups approaching, and the little 
 community was gathered around him. Then he 
 learned that, soon after his departure, his brothers, 
 deserting their families, had besieged his wife with 
 offers of marriage, telling her that he would never 
 return, for he was pledged to perform an impossible 
 task. She had driven them from her presence, but 
 stifling shame, they had frequently renewed their 
 offers. At last, despairing of getting rid of them 
 otherwise, she had made up her mind to fly, when 
 both of them, suspecting her design, without concert 
 entered her lodge. Hardly had they crossed the 
 threshold when they fell dead at her feet, slain by 
 two mysterious arrows. She now in terror fled into 
 
THE THREE MA QIC ARROWS. 103 
 
 the Forest, and joined the wives and children of the 
 wicked brothers, who long before, to escape cruel 
 treatment, had concealed themselves there. He 
 soothed the distress of his wife and the others, and 
 folding her to his bosom, gratefully led the way 
 towards home. 
 
 The two wicked brothers were buried as if they 
 had been the worthiest of their race, and although 
 sadness long rested on the little community, yet time, 
 which assuages all grief, at last relieved the drooping 
 spirits of the sufferers. The two widows eventually 
 found good, brave husbands; the children of their 
 previous marriage grew up unlike their fathers ; and 
 in the new condition of things, in which the com 
 munity was joined by other settlers, it put on a 
 smiling face, and its sorrows were buried in oblivion. 
 
WAS3AMO, THE FIRE PLUME, 
 
 ASSAMO, a beautiful youth, lived with his 
 parents in a village situated near the eastern 
 shore of Lake Superior. There nature had gene 
 rously supplied all the simple wants of the people, 
 who roved without care, enjoying the pure air and 
 lovely scenery of the country. One day his mother 
 asked him to get his cousin to accompany him, and 
 to go to a distant point on the lake, to fish. Pleased 
 at the prospect of good sport, he promptly replied 
 that he should be glad to go, and getting his cousin, 
 they took a canoe, and by evening had reached the 
 fishing-ground, a short distance from shore, just 
 opposite the great Sand Dunes. 
 
 Wassamo s cousin, who was grown up, whereas 
 "Wassamo was a mere youth, directed as well as 
 assisted the casting of the net. That finished, they 
 landed and made a little birch-bark shelter for the 
 night, and threw themselves down beside it on the 
 beach, to watch the floats of the net. Not a breath 
 of wind ruffled the surface of the lake, and the 
 bright moonlight enabled them distinctly to see, off 
 in the water, the long curved line of floats, looking 
 like the knobbed backbone of some skeleton sea- 
 
WASSAMO, THE FIRE PLUME. 165 
 
 serpent. Becoming engaged in conversation, how 
 ever, they forgot to keep an eye upon the floats, 
 when Wassamo, suddenly recollecting and looking 
 for them, exclaimed, " Why, cousin, our floats are 
 almost all under water ; we must have a splendid 
 catch of fish ; let s go haul in." They went off to 
 the net, and on hauling it in, were rejoiced at finding 
 the meshes full of fish. On getting it aboard the 
 canoe, they discovered that they had had such good 
 luck that it was hardly worth while to set the net 
 again. However, they set it, and then, laughing 
 and shouting delightedly, paddled the canoe slowly 
 ashore, unloaded it, and began to prepare to pass the 
 night. 
 
 "Wassamo," said his cousin, "I have had the most 
 work in fishing, so you ought to cook supper for 
 both." "I m agreed," replied Wassamo; "but while 
 I m boiling the fish for our supper, tell me a story, 
 or sing me a love song." " Oh ! I m tired and sleepy," 
 answered Wassamo s cousin, gaping and yawning; 
 " it will take too long to tell a story, and as for love, 
 why, as I have no faith in it, I don t know any 
 love songs. If you would like, I will sing you a 
 song about love, that is not a love song." Wassamo 
 accepted the offer, and the crackling of dry sticks in 
 the flames was soon heard as he stirred about the 
 fire, while his cousin, seating himself, and hemming 
 
 15 
 
166 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 twice or thrice to clear his throat, broke the still 
 ness of the night with the following song : 
 
 Gently, in a bark, by moonlight, 
 
 A youth and maiden glide along, 
 Waking the echoes of the night, 
 
 With joyous laugh and tender song. 
 
 Guard ye, fair youth and maiden bright, 
 From love and vows beneath the Moon, 
 
 The love has ever proved but light, 
 The vows have broken but too soon ! 
 
 The song now hushed and hushed the jest, 
 
 To view are lost two forms reclined, 
 A head now pillows on a breast, 
 
 Two arms about a waist are twined ; 
 
 A voice says, " Dearest, lend thine hand, 
 
 And hear the solemn vow I make, 
 Within the bounds of Fairyland, 
 
 Beneath the moonlight on the lake." 
 
 The new Moon sees the same bark pass, 
 
 Along the self-same fairy shore, 
 But in the lovers twain, alas ! 
 
 Sees only one she saw before. 
 
 "It s pretty much the same when there is 
 no moonlight," added Wassamo s ungallant cousin, 
 dumping himself on the ground, and laying his 
 cheek on the palm of his hand. Wassamo, soon 
 
WA SSAMO, THE FIR E PL UME. \ 6 f 
 
 glancing at him, saw that he had fallen asleep. He 
 then set earnestly to work to finish his cooking, 
 replenished the fire, and stirred the pot. At last, 
 when he thought that the fish were done, he took 
 the pot off the fire, and setting it on the ground, 
 began to skim off the grease on the broth. The 
 Moon, at this moment being hidden behind some 
 clouds, and the fire, about to die, flickering and cast 
 ing long shadows hither and thither, Wassamo could 
 not see what he was about, so he untied his garters, 
 and made with them a fillet around his brow, and 
 into it thrust a flaming piece of twisted bark. As, 
 absorbed in his occupation, he stooped over the pot, 
 to skim it, the bark torch lighting his beautiful fea 
 tures, which formed the centre of a bright halo, he 
 thought that he heard a merry laugh. Looking in 
 the direction, he could discover nothing, but feeling 
 sure that some one must be near, he called softly to 
 his cousin, "Get up; there is some one round here: 
 let s find out who it is." But his cousin was 
 sound asleep, and did not stir. As Wassamo turned 
 from him, he again heard the merrj- laugh, and peer 
 ing around, saw just on the edge of the halo, two 
 beautiful female faces smiling upon him. He now 
 stooped over his cousin, and nudged him, saying in 
 an earnest whisper, "Get up, get up; there are two 
 girls here." His cousin turned over with a snort, and 
 
168 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 was again buried in the profoundest sleep. Was- 
 samo sprang to his feet, and advanced alone towards 
 the girls, bearing with him through the darkness 
 the radiance above his head. But although he ad 
 vanced quickly, he did not seem to gain upon the 
 girls : two beautiful smiling faces and graceful 
 forms seemed to hover just on the verge of the 
 halo, and recede as he advanced. Perplexed at the 
 strangeness of the sight, and provoked at the con 
 duct of the girls, he opened his month to speak, 
 when, in an instant, all his faculties seemed be 
 numbed, and he fell fainting to the ground. 
 
 When he came to himself and opened his eyes, 
 he saw close beside him the two beautiful appa 
 ritions which he had pursued. The younger and 
 lovelier of them, smiling upon him, said: "Kise, 
 beloved Wassamo, and come with me. Thy besotted 
 companion, unbeliever in love, at first accepted, now 
 rejected by my sister, may return to the abode of 
 mortals, but thou, Wassamo, beauteous youth, shalt 
 henceforth dwell with me." Wassamo rose slowly 
 to his feet, and clasping his hands, gazed upon the 
 lovely being before him, entranced. With a pleased 
 glance she took his right hand in her left, and 
 w r aving her other hand, cried: "Why do we now 
 linger ? Let us away." Wassamo felt himself borne 
 rapidly along, as the companion by his side, light as 
 
W ASS A MO, THE FIRE PLUME. igQ 
 
 gossamer, flew over the ground, and the other as 
 lightly flitted before, just within the bright halo. In 
 a few seconds they had reached the foot of the great 
 Sand Dunes, which, instead of opposing, parted be 
 fore them in yellow waves, passing through which 
 Wassarno s torch fell and extinguished, and he found 
 himself with his companions standing in one of an 
 endless succession of spacious sand domes suffused 
 with golden light. 
 
 A numerous assembly, over which a venerable 
 old man seemed to preside, filled the dome. "Ap 
 proach, my son," said this personage in an ordinary 
 tone of voice, but one which penetrated every part 
 of the vast space. The two girls advanced, leading 
 Wassamo to the presence, when the old man said : 
 " Foolish girls, ye think that in your moonlight 
 rambles ye have been indulging in a freak of your 
 own. But know, that, for my own ends, I have long 
 purposed that one of you. should wed a mortal. I 
 am the Guardian Spirit of Nagow Wudjoo," said the 
 old man, turning and addressing himself to Wassamo. 
 "Thy fellow-mortals have long neglected to make me 
 frequent offerings of the fragrant weed, Nicotiana." 
 "Thanks," said the old man, abruptly, interrupting 
 himself to receive a piece of tobacco just offered by 
 a voyager on the lake. " Thou," said he, resuming 
 his address to Wassamo, " shalt for a space return to 
 
 15* 
 
170 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 thy tribe, bearing to it the knowledge of its neglect 
 and my displeasure. This season, which thou callest 
 summer, is our day; that which thou callest winter, 
 which is our night, approaches. "When it has passed, 
 take with thee my daughter, whose hand I give thee 
 in requital of thy services, and obey my behest." 
 
 Wassamo for some time shared with his beautiful 
 wife the most delightful existence imaginable, amid 
 perpetual day. On account of his alliance, the minor 
 Spirits treated him as their equal. His every want 
 was on the instant supplied : the beasts walked over 
 the Sand Dunes ; the birds alighted on them ; and 
 the fishes swam by their foundations all that he had 
 to do was to stretch forth his hand and take what he 
 wished. The only thing about the Spirits that struck 
 him as strange was that, whenever there was a thun 
 der-storm, they all scampered off in every direction, 
 and did not reappear until the storm had ceased. 
 As, of course, thunder-storms often occurred during 
 the summer, the Spirits were liable at any moment, 
 no matter how engaged, to be thrown into utter con 
 fusion, and betake themselves to flight. At last 
 Wassamo could no longer refrain from inquiring of 
 his wife the secret of this strange behavior of the 
 Spirits. She replied : " In the clouds dwells the 
 Storm King. When he rides in the tempest, and 
 looses the lightnings from his hand, we are op- 
 
WA SSA MO, THE FIR E PL UME. 1 7 1 
 
 pressed with fear, and hide ourselves in the bowels 
 of the earth." 
 
 The season of night arrived, and "Wassamo s wife 
 and all the rest of the Spirits retired to rest. At the 
 end of three months they one by one awoke, stretched 
 themselves, and lay down for three months more, say 
 ing, u It is midnight." Poor Wassamo was just as 
 much by himself as though he had been alone, and 
 often ate, drank, and slept just to while away the time. 
 At last the Spirits rose and declared that it was day, 
 and resumed their ordinary life. Wassamo and his 
 wife then started on their journey. They passed 
 through the side of one of the Sand Dunes, which, as 
 before, parted before them like yellow waves, and, ap 
 proaching the neighboring beach, entered a pleasant 
 road which led under the bottom of the lake, across to 
 the Sand Dunes on the opposite shore. Emerging 
 from the lake on a beach near the latter Sand Dunes, 
 instantly the entrance to the road through which they 
 had come closed behind them. In the distance ap 
 peared the village of Wassamo. Overjoyed at the 
 sight he turned to his wife, and embracing her, and 
 requesting her to wait to be announced, hastened to 
 wards home. 
 
 He had hardly gone half-way, when, in a grief- 
 stricken man approaching with his head fallen on his 
 breast, he recognized his cousin. Wassamo, running 
 
172 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 forward, came upon him unawares, and throwing his 
 arms about his neck, greeted him, adding, "But what 
 has happened ?" His cousin, thrusting him off at 
 arms length, looked eagerly into his face, and then 
 returning his embrace convulsively, burst into tears, 
 crying out, " Wassamo, Wassamo, they say I mur 
 dered you !" 
 
 When Wassamo s cousin awoke, he first cast his 
 eyes towards the fire, expecting to see Wassamo there, 
 and then, not seeing him, towards the net, thinking 
 that he might have gone off to it in the canoe. Not 
 seeing him in either place, he thought that Wassamo 
 must be playing him a trick, by hiding, so he began 
 to shout and search for him along the shore. Keceiv- 
 ing no answer, and unable to find him, he returned 
 to the camping-ground, and beginning near the em 
 bers of the fire that they had made, tracked his foot 
 prints over the beach, back to the Sand Dunes, to a 
 spot where they ended abruptly in a hollow, which 
 looked as though a human form had lain there. 
 Not a footprint went beyond. With all his senses 
 in confusion, he retraced his steps to camp, where, 
 burying his face in his hands, he sat until daylight, 
 pondering. 
 
 Daylight came, and with it the cousin s hope and 
 courage revived, and he renewed his search by ascend 
 ing the Sand Dunes, peering into every hollow, and 
 
WA SSA MO, THE FIR E PL UME. 173 
 
 shouting until he was hoarse, the name of Wassamo. 
 His efforts were fruitless : Wassamo could neither 
 be seen nor heard. Sadly, therefore, he drew in 
 the net and took his departure, bearing to the village 
 the news that Wassamo was lost. People listened 
 calmly to the whole story of Wassamo s disappear 
 ance, up to the point where his cousin said that he 
 had tracked his footsteps to a hollow at the foot of the 
 Sand Dunes, where they ended. They then looked 
 askance at each other, then began to mutter, then to 
 whisper, " He has murdered Wassamo." Soon they 
 spoke out, and accused him downright of the murder. 
 He defended himself vehemently, appealed to his 
 well-known love for Wassamo, and concluded by de 
 manding that search be made for the body. A search 
 was at once instituted, but by the time that the 
 people had reached the camping-ground, the foot 
 prints and hollow described by Wassamo s cousin 
 had vanished in the drifting sand. The neighboring 
 shore was searched, and the bed of the lake along it 
 dragged, but neither the body, nor any sign of vio 
 lence, could be discovered. 
 
 The party returned to the village and made their 
 report. On this, people inclined to believe in the 
 innocence of the accused, especially as he seemed 
 deeply afflicted at the loss of Wassamo and the 
 charge of having murdered him. The conclusion 
 
174 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 became general, as soon as they had had time to 
 reflect, that Wassamo, becoming deranged, must have 
 strayed into the Forest, and that, recovering his 
 senses, he would sooner or later return home. But 
 spring came, and yet Wassamo had not returned, and 
 again his relatives clamored for the blood of his 
 supposed murderer. They urged that they had 
 waited long enough for his return ; that he did not 
 return, because he could not, having been murdered by 
 his cousin. The influence of his relatives and friends 
 proved strong enough to get the cousin condemned 
 and sentenced. The young man was much overcome, 
 but as before, preserved his calmness sufficiently to 
 declare his innocence of the deed laid to his charge. 
 He added, " Innocent as I am, I fear not death. I 
 grieve to be thought guilty of a crime which I abhor, 
 and of which, one day, I shall be proved guiltless 
 to your lasting shame and remorse." 
 
 So strong had been the young man s protest 
 against the justice of his sentence, that, even al 
 though the day of execution had been appointed, no 
 one could be found to lay hands on him, and he was 
 suffered to go at large. Pallid and haggard, he 
 roamed distracted through the wilds. The day be 
 fore that fixed for his execution, he was as usual 
 wandering restlessly to and fro, when his footsteps 
 
WASSAMO, THE FIRE PLUME. 175 
 
 led him towards the lake. As he came in sight of 
 the deep, blue, lovely lake, the thought flashed 
 across him that, beneath its waters, he could find 
 repose. The next moment he had repulsed the 
 temptation, as he said to himself, "And then I 
 should certainly, and with reason, be deemed guilty: 
 if they kill me, many will always believe in my in 
 nocence." His head fell on his breast, and he was 
 pursuing his way in melancholy mood towards the 
 lake, and silently weeping, when he heard a familiar 
 voice, and felt himself folded in a warm embrace, 
 from which disengaging himself, as already de 
 scribed, arid giving one eager glance at his cousin, 
 he fell upon his breast, sobbing, and crying out, 
 "Wassamo, Wassamo, they say I murdered you!" 
 Wassamo, taking his cousin by the hand, and 
 urging him forward, again hastened towards the 
 village, where, amidst the people s joy and applause, 
 he explained his absence and return, and proclaimed 
 his cousin s innocence. The whole people went 
 forth from the village to receive and welcome Was- 
 samo s bride. They conducted her with distin 
 guished honor to a lodge set apart for her and her 
 husband s accommodation. They were in raptures 
 with her beauty, her lily-white skin, her sweet ex 
 pression and graceful bearing, and when she had 
 
176 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 lived with them for a while, they never wearied of 
 extolling her amiable traits of character. 
 
 The neighboring tribes, hearing of the event, came 
 in numbers to present their homage and gifts of the 
 fragrant Nicotiana to the daughter of the Guardian 
 Spirit of Nagow Wudjoo. She received them gra 
 ciously, conversing with them in their own language, 
 and accepting the gifts in the name of her father. 
 She was never idle ; she worked day and night. The 
 only time that she was absent, was during a thunder 
 storm ; but as soon as the storm was over, she 
 reappeared. Her presence seemed to bring the 
 greatest prosperity to the tribe. As for the cousin, 
 he was so rejoiced at Wassamo s return, and charmed 
 with his bride, that he was always with him, impor 
 tuning him to be allowed to go with them to the 
 abode of the Old Spirit. 
 
 Winter came on apace, and Wassamo s wife in 
 structed her husband to prepare a lodge for her 
 
 * 
 accommodation during her season of night. On 
 
 retiring to rest she cautioned him not to let anyone 
 pass that side of the lodge on which she was lying. 
 In the spring, just when the sap of the maple had 
 begun to flow, she rose and resumed her household 
 duties. She also helped the people to make maple- 
 sugar : never before nor since was so much maple- 
 sugar known to be made in one season. When the 
 
WASSAMO, THE FIRE PLUME. \^ 
 
 work was over, the people from the surrounding 
 country appeared and renewed their homage and gifts 
 of the fragrant Nicotiana, to propitiate the Old Spirit 
 of the Sand Dunes. His daughter thanked them in his 
 name, and promised to convey to him their requests. 
 
 The time appointed for their visit having now 
 expired, Wassamo and his wife took their leave. All 
 the people wished to escort them in triumph on their 
 way, but Wassarno declined to allow anyone but 
 his cousin to accompany them further than the out 
 skirts of the village: to him he gave permission 
 to go with them as far as the Sand Dunes on the 
 beach near the village. But when they had reached 
 that place, his cousin revealed his intention of ac 
 companying them to the abode of the Spirit of 
 Nagow Wudjoo. Wassamo and his wife repre 
 sented that what he requested was impossible, and 
 consoling him for their departure by reminding him 
 that they were soon to return with the reply of the 
 Old Spirit on receiving the offerings of Nicotiana, he, 
 although loth, was fain to depart. 
 
 The Old Spirit of the Sand Dunes warmly wel 
 comed Wassamo and his daughter, and was well 
 pleased with the generous supply of the fragrant Ni- 
 cotiana, which they brought as the offerings of the 
 tribes. He determined to celebrate the occasion by 
 summoning around him his neighbors, to have a 
 
 16 
 
178 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 grand smoke, share with him the gifts, and receive 
 his son-in-law. He told Wassamo to sit close to 
 his wife when certain ones of the Spirits entered, 
 for that otherwise, they were so powerful, they might, 
 without intending it, dash him to pieces, or crush him 
 to death. He especially warned Wassamo against the 
 Spirit of the Isles, who was very malicious, and who, 
 having been refused the hand of Wassamo s bride, 
 might wreak vengeance on him. 
 
 Soon the Spirits began to assemble. The first 
 that entered smiled kindly upon Wassamo, who was 
 much pleased with his gentle aspect. It was the 
 Spirit of a bay on Lake Superior. Next a sylvan 
 Spirit entered. He also bore a gracious smile. 
 Presently was heard a whispering and rustling sound, 
 and in came diffidently the gentle Spirit of the 
 Zephyrs. He was succeeded by a very boisterous 
 guest, who, long before he appeared, announced him 
 self by whistling, shrieking, and howling as he came 
 along. It was the Spirit of the Whirlwind. Hardly 
 had the noise of the last arrival subsided, when 
 Wassamo thought that he heard the sound of many 
 waters, and soon he was sure of it. The murmur 
 grew louder and louder, and in poured a flood, bear 
 ing along logs, roots, trees, and rocks, with the roar 
 of a mighty cataract. There was no mistaking, amid 
 the wreck, the Guardian Spirit of Eapids and Water- 
 
WA SSA MO, THE FIR E PL UME. 179 
 
 falls. Wassamo had hardly composed himself, before 
 the sound of surf on a rocky coast was heard, and in 
 tumbled the silver and diamond-crested waves of Lake 
 Superior, rolling mountain-high. Thus heralded and 
 accompanied, came the Guardian Spirit of the Isles. 
 Wassamo feeling himself dashed to and fro with ter 
 rific force, clung desperately to his wife, to avoid 
 being swept away by the surges. 
 
 When the tumult had somewhat subsided, the Old 
 Spirit of Nagow Wudjoo took his stand on a high 
 place, and addressing the assembly, distributed pre 
 sents of the fragrant Nicotiana, which were received 
 with applause. The old Spirit, then judging that 
 his fellow Spirits must be in fine humor, presented to 
 them his son-in-law, to be confirmed as one of their 
 august body. The proposition was favorably received 
 by all except the Spirit of the Isles, who began 
 to murmur; but his voice was speedily drowned by 
 the howl of the Spirit of the Whirlwind, and the 
 roar of the Spirit of Rapids and Waterfalls. 
 
 When the assembly had dispersed, the Old Spirit 
 of the Sand Dunes announced to Wassamo that, now, 
 having been admitted to Spiritland, he must bid 
 a final adieu to his friends on earth. Wassamo and 
 his wife instantly departed, and reappearing at the 
 village, informed the people of the Old Spirit s grati 
 fication, and their errand to bid a last farewell. 
 
180 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 With feelings of mingled joy and grief, the relatives 
 and friends of Wassamo accompanied him and his 
 wife to the Sand Dunes near the village. There they 
 parted lingeringly from them, and watched them, as, 
 waving their hands in sign of adieu, they slowly 
 wended their way to the beach. At the water s edge 
 they paused, the rays of the declining sun for an in 
 stant illumined their forms, and the next they had 
 gone. 
 
THE WIND AND THE DUCK. 
 
 |N a bitter cold day of winter, tlie Northwest 
 "Wind, rising, saw a solitary Duck diving 
 through a few holes in the ice near the shores of a 
 great bay. " What folly," blustered the Wind, "to 
 contend with me, who have driven every other living 
 creature away." So saying, the Wind blew so hard 
 and cold that it froze over the holes, and made the 
 poor little Duck take shelter under the lee of the 
 bank. Satisfied with his exploit, the Wind retired 
 whistling to his far-away home in the mountains. 
 When he rose the next morning, to his surprise he 
 saw that the Duck had found new holes, and was 
 pulling the flags out of his way, and diving as 
 merrily as ever. " This will never do," howled the 
 Wind; "I will not be balked;" and for a week, 
 harder and harder, bleaker and bleaker did the Wind 
 blow. But regularly every morning he found the 
 little Duck steadily at work, breaking or finding new 
 holes, or else waiting for the ice to drift out of his 
 way, and earning as well as he could his living. 
 Thought the Wind, "Such assiduity must insure 
 success: T might as well let him alone." 
 
 16* 
 
THE ILL-FATED LOVERS, 
 
 HERE once lived on the shores of Lake Supe 
 rior a Chieftain of the name of Wawanosh. 
 He was descended from a long line of ancestry 
 renowned for their high qualities, nor was he un 
 worthy of the lineage whence he sprang. From 
 having been a mighty warrior, whose war club none 
 could wield, whose bow, even, none could bend, 
 whose thews and sinews were the boast of all the 
 tribe, whose strength was equalled only by his 
 address, and surpassed only by his courage, he had 
 descended from the lofty pedestal which he had 
 occupied as warrior, but to ascend a still loftier one 
 as sage. From far and near people came to seek his 
 counsel, and his declining years were soothed by his 
 perception of the veneration in which he was held. 
 
 Unhappily the wisdom which was bountiful to 
 strangers, failed him in the ordering of his own 
 household. A young and handsome suitor sought 
 his daughter s hand, but to be rebuffed by the stern 
 old warrior. " Hark thee, young man," he said ; 
 "thou askest me to bestow on thee the choicest 
 flower of this land, as the meed of thy deserts. For 
 what ? what hast thou done to render thee worthy 
 
THE IL L FATED LO VEE S. 183 
 
 of such a prize? Thou lovest her, forsooth, and she 
 loves thee ! so does many another, and she will learn 
 to love the worthiest. Begone, and until thou hast 
 something more than thy love to offer for my child, 
 let me not see thy face again. Go make a name." 
 
 Late that evening the daughter, spent with weep 
 ing, beautiful as she looked up at her lover through 
 a mist of tears, murmured the last fond words of 
 parting ; he folded her in a close embrace, and then 
 walked silently away. Before morning he had left 
 the village with a band of warriors, and soon was on 
 the frontier in the presence of the enemy. 
 
 Some days passed in skirmishes in which neither 
 side gained any decisive advantage, but at last a 
 pitched battle was fought, in which, after having 
 covered himself with glory, he sank exhausted from 
 his wounds. "Alas !" he moaned, as he lay stretched 
 in agony upon the ground, " I have won a name, but 
 she can never share." .... The blood bubbled from 
 his lips, and a corpse lay stiff and stark upon the 
 field of battle. 
 
 When the pursuit of the enemy was over, the 
 victorious set about the sad duty of succoring the 
 wounded and burying the dead. The victory had 
 cost dear: some of the best and bravest of the band 
 had perished. Soon they took up the line of march, 
 and in a few days neared the village of Wawanosh. 
 
184 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 The maiden bears the triumphant war-cry, and then 
 the death-wail that tells the number of the slain. At 
 the first sound she flies towards the advancing ranks, 
 but on a sudden halts : right in her path stands a 
 skeleton with flaming eyes the dread Pauguk glares 
 upon her. All is over, she knows, and with a moan 
 she falls lifeless to the earth. 
 
 The crushed maiden never spoke again but sadly 
 to reply when spoken to by those who loved her. 
 Never by one reproachful glance, however, did she 
 inflict a wound upon the author of her being and her 
 woes. She pined her life away, straying through the 
 woods, seated by the side of plaintive streams. No 
 voice but Nature s own seemed soothing to her 
 wounded spirit, save that of a beautiful bird of rain 
 bow plumage, the constant companion of her restless 
 wanderings. It she seemed to love, and when, seated 
 on a moss-grown bank, her life fluttered gently away, 
 so flew the bird, and never more was seen. 
 
PAUKEWIS, THE WIZAKD, 
 
 lAUKEWIS was a Wizard. Unlike Wizards 
 generally, who lead very quiet lives in caves 
 or ruins, clothed in long sweeping mantles, with staffs 
 in their hands, black cats looking over their shoulders, 
 and herbs, scrolls, skulls, crucibles, and horoscopes 
 lying in profusion around, Paukewis delighted in 
 roaming about the world, concealing his magic gifts 
 from people, until he chose to astonish them by play 
 ing all sorts of pranks. 
 
 Tired of living on a prairie, where he found peo 
 ple too few and far between to allow scope for his 
 talent for mischief, Paukewis set out in search of 
 adventures. After travelling several hundred miles, 
 he came in sight of a town. Thinking to himself, 
 "there is nothing like singularity to attract attention," 
 he started on a run, and reaching the outskirts, turned 
 forward somersaults, at each bound clearing a row 
 of houses, and alighting in a street, until he had 
 passed over the town, and then backward ones, until 
 he had alighted in the centre. Here was a sensation 
 after his own heart ! The people outdoors had stopped 
 to see the spectacle, and when it was known that the 
 mysterious stranger had actually alighted, the whole 
 
18G AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 population flocked to get a sight of him. He pre 
 tended to think that he had done nothing wonderful ; 
 remarked that the customs of foreigners were every 
 where thought peculiar ; that his mode, of announc 
 ing himself was the fashion in his own country; and 
 concluded by accepting an invitation to a great feast 
 given in his honor as a distinguished stranger. 
 
 The people of the town, which was one of a num 
 ber inhabited by a powerful league, determined, if 
 possible, to make him King. Accordingly, they des 
 patched messengers to summon the tribes, and he 
 was by acclamation invested with the regal dignity. 
 As soon as the ceremonies were over, he requested 
 to know whether his subjects were at war with any 
 people, for, if so, he was eager to march against them. 
 He was informed that then their only enemies were a 
 band of Ogres, who were also Magicians, by whom 
 they had always been defeated, but against whom 
 they were ready, at his wish, to march again at a 
 moment s notice. He appointed one of the Chiefs to 
 take charge of the Kingdom during his absence; and 
 selecting twenty active and trusty young men as a 
 guard of honor, and a pretty youth as pipe-bearer 
 and page, started on an expedition .against the Ogres. 
 
 During the march the King indulged in strange 
 antics, leaping over trees, turning somersaults, and 
 spinning around on one foot, forming whirlwinds of 
 
PAUKEW1S, THE WIZARD. jgT 
 
 dust, until his followers were ready to expire with 
 fear. Near the end of the third day the party reached 
 the abode of the Ogres, and the King stationed his 
 followers under cover, a short distance off, and ad 
 vanced alone. 
 
 The Ogres, five in number, were seated all in a 
 row examining the country, and planning a foray to 
 obtain some supplies. The mouths of the hideous 
 creatures were watering, and their eyes swimming 
 low in their heads, as they talked and gloated over 
 the feast they would have. When they caught sight 
 of the King advancing, they all smacked their chaps, 
 and, rising, rushed towards him. He leaped aside 
 and gave a shrill whistle, at which his followers 
 sprang out of their concealment and ranged them 
 selves around him. "Now," cried the King, "fair 
 play ; one at a time." An Ogre stepped forward and 
 clinched with him. Clouds of dust and dead leaves 
 rose, floated, and whirled around the combatants, so 
 as almost to hide them from sight. The spectators, 
 Ogres and King s followers, circled about the tumult, 
 shouting " Aha !" as either side gained an advan 
 tage. The King at last put forth all his strength, 
 and hurled his adversary against the ground with 
 such violence as to break every bone in his body. 
 In turn three of the other Ogres stepped forward and 
 encountered the King, who dashed them also with 
 
188 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 such violence to the ground, that they were instantly 
 killed. On witnessing the fate of his comrades, the 
 fifth and last Ogre fled for his life, and the King pur 
 sued him, sometimes falling behind, sometimes over 
 taking him and leaping over his head, and making 
 him swerve from his course, sometimes giving him a 
 push, and sometimes a trip, ending with a kick that 
 sent him lifeless into a ravine. 
 
 Having accomplished this feat, the King rejoined 
 his followers, who were breathless with the exertions 
 which they had been making to keep up with him. 
 He dismissed them with instructions to convey to his 
 people the intelligence that he would be absent for 
 some time, and to add that they need have no fear 
 for his safety, as his late success proved. 
 
 Paukewis continued on his way until he reached 
 what he at first thought was a lake, but, on examin 
 ing more closely, found to be a pond made by a 
 beaver-dam. u A thought strikes me," said he. "I 
 have a notion that I should like to lead the life of a 
 Beaver. My friend," continued he to a Beaver who 
 at that moment happened to pop his head out of the 
 water, " please mention to your comrades, will you, 
 that I should like to make one of you for a while?" 
 The Beaver disappeared beneath the surface, and 
 soon the water became dotted with hundreds of black 
 heads moving towards him. A Beaver crawled out 
 
PA UK EWIS, THE WIZARD. 189 
 
 of the water on to a rock, and addressing him, said 
 that they agreed to his making one of their number. 
 He immediately changed himself into a Beaver and 
 dived into one of the houses. When he got there, 
 he made himself grow and grow until he was so big 
 that he could hardly budge. " My! what a Beaver!" 
 exclaimed all the little ones. "You must be our 
 King." " Certainly," replied Paukewis, making him 
 self bigger than ever ; " I will be your King, and," he 
 added to himself, " I will eat you out of house and 
 home." "You needn t go out," cried the Beavers, 
 seeing Paukewis still puffing up; " we will bring you 
 whatever you need." "That is what I intend," an 
 swered he ; " see that you do." 
 
 Matters went on very well for a few days: Paukewis 
 was delighted at the novelty of his life, and the suc 
 cess of his trick. The fatter he grew the thinner the 
 Beavers became, for want of food, and the hard work 
 they had to do to provide for him. All of a sudden, 
 one day, there was a great racket; the Beavers cried, 
 "The hunters are upon us," and made their way out 
 of their houses as fast as they could. Paukewis grew 
 small as quickly as possible; but before he could 
 come down to the usual size of Beavers, the hunters 
 had broken the dam, let the water out, and stove in 
 the roof of his house. They speared him through 
 the body, shouting, "Look, look the King of the 
 
 17 
 
]90 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Beavers; here is the King of the Beavers!" With 
 a gurgle or two in the water, the Beaver which was 
 animated by the spirit of Paukewis expired. 
 
 He found himself in his human form standing 
 near the edge of a broad prairie on which at a dis 
 tance was feeding a great herd of Elk. "What," 
 thought he, " could be a more delightful existence 
 than that of these animals, pasturing on the sweet 
 herbage, drinking deep draughts from the limpid 
 stream, roaming at will over this vast expanse ! 
 Thus could I divert myself forever, free as the air !" 
 Instantly he transformed himself into a huge Elk, 
 five times as large as the largest of the species, and, 
 after glancing admiringly at the reflection of his form 
 in a clear pool, stalked majestically forth on the 
 prairie towards the browsing herd. As he approached, 
 casting a mighty shadow before him, the Elk raised 
 their heads, and, startled at his appearance, scampered 
 away; but some halting, and examining him from a 
 distance, concluded that he was one of their kind, and 
 gradually came nearer and nearer till they surrounded 
 him. The leader of the herd at last broke silence, 
 saying, "I have hitherto been the Chief, but to you 
 I must yield place." 
 
 Paukewis was delighted with his new existence. 
 So enchanting were the vigorous exercise and per 
 fect freedom of the herd, he felt sure that he should 
 
PAUKEWIS, THE WIZARD. 191 
 
 like to be an Elk for the rest of his life. He did not 
 long continue to hold that opinion. One day the 
 searching wind on the prairie compelled the herd to 
 resort to the shelter of some woods. The animals 
 had hardly lain down there when the loud halloos of 
 hunters were heard, and the crashing of brushwood 
 that followed showed that they were at hand. They 
 rose and fled swiftly out of the woods all but 
 Paukewis, whose bulk hindered him from making 
 much progress, and whose horns at last became 
 so entangled that he could not extricate them. The 
 arrows of the hunters rattled on his ribs; one pierced 
 him to the heart; he felt the icy chill of death steal 
 over him, and gave up the ghost. 
 
 He found himself in his human form standing on a 
 sandy beaoli of a lake, on which was floating a great 
 flock of Ducks. He thought: "How pleasant and 
 safe this life must be," and shouted to them, " If you 
 will let me, I 11 be your King," and changing him 
 self into a Duck as big as a Swan, waddled down 
 the beach into the water, and swam off to the flock. 
 The Ducks ranged themselves in a circle around 
 him, admiring his great size, and a consequential 
 one among them, speaking for the rest, said : " You 
 shall be our King, and then we shall be equal to the 
 Geese and the Swans." 
 
 Pretty soon, the weather growing warm, the 
 
192 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Ducks were obliged to betake themselves to a cooler 
 climate. They all rose together and flew due north, 
 now and then alighting to get food and take some 
 rest. One windy day, when the flock had much ado 
 to fly at all, Paukewis, who, not being used to aerial 
 travelling, found it so interesting that he was always 
 looking at the sights below, stretched his neck 
 downward to get a view of something that he had 
 passed, when the wind caught his tail and tumbled 
 him heels over head to the earth, where he stuck in 
 a hollow tree, and remained there till he was starved 
 to death. 
 
 He found himself standing in a path in the Forest, 
 and not having any preference as to the direction to 
 take, walked in that in which he had found himself 
 facing. He was so ill satisfied with the result of 
 his late freaks, that he plodded along in very bad 
 humor, and was rejoiced to see at last a comfortable 
 lodge, at the door of which sat two cheery old fel 
 lows, who smiled all the while they were telling him 
 the way out of the woods, and laughed until he was 
 out of sight. The next day, about the same time, he 
 saw a lodge, in the doorway of which sat two old 
 fellows, who were just as cheery as those he had 
 seen the day before, and who told him the way just 
 as pleasantly as the others had done, and laughed, too, 
 until he was out of sight. The next day it was exactly 
 
PAUKEWJS, THE WIZARD. 193 
 
 the same the same house, the same cheery old fel 
 lows. "Aha!" roared Paukewis, U I have found 
 3 ou out. Do you see the notch I cut on the 
 doorpost?" And with a slap for one, and a kick 
 for the other, he sent them whirling against the 
 rocks, where the red streaks of their blood may be 
 seen to this day. Thus did he rid the world of two 
 Magicians, who, under the guise of simple-hearted old 
 men, were the plague of all unsuspecting travellers. 
 Paukewis continued his journey in a straight line 
 until he got out of the woods, and then recollecting 
 that he had been long absent from his adopted people, 
 resolved to visit them forthwith, and see how they 
 prospered. His return proved most timely. The 
 King of the Bears, who lived on the neighboring 
 mountains, had threatened the people with destruction 
 if they did not remove, and it was feared that he was 
 approaching with a large force to execute his threat. 
 Paukewis set his forces in battle array. Soon after 
 wards growls were heard, and the van of the Bears 
 was seen advancing, followed by the main army. A 
 quarter of a mile off the King of the Bears halted his 
 forces, and sent a messenger to Paukewis to say 
 that, to avoid bloodshed, he proposed a race between 
 themselves, the life of the vanquished to belong to 
 the victor. Paukewis of course agreed. The two 
 hostile armies were drawn up on opposite slopes, 
 
 17* 
 
194 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and in full view of the valley in which the contest 
 was to take place. Paukewis did not at first put 
 forth his speed, but leaped and twirled, raising such 
 clouds of dust, that the King of the Bears was almost 
 blinded, and hardly knew which way he was going. 
 At last he sprang forward, leaving the King of 
 the Bears, and as the dust cleared away, was seen 
 to be standing at the goal as the King staggered 
 towards it, and to cut off his head with a single blow 
 of a knife. He then ordered a general advance of 
 his forces, and in the rout which followed, took pri 
 soners several hundred Bears, whom he distributed 
 as servants among his followers. 
 
 After these signal successes, which might well 
 have contented the most ambitious, Paukewis ought 
 thenceforth to have reposed upon his laurels. But, 
 like many another conqueror, he was not content to 
 rest as long as there remained other worlds to subdue. 
 He aspired to rival a Magician who had gained even a 
 higher reputation than his. Committing the govern 
 ment of his people to the same Chief who had before 
 administered affairs during his absence, he set out 
 alone in quest of the redoubtable Manabozho, the 
 Wizard of the North. 
 
 He travelled hundreds of miles, until he thought 
 that he must have reached almost the confines of the 
 earth. Not far from Manabozho s abode, he seated 
 
PAUKEWIS, THE WIZARD. 195 
 
 himself on a cliff overlooking a great lake, and 
 began to shoot the birds flying past. Now, all the 
 birds of the air are under the protection of Mana- 
 bozho, who is wroth when anyone injures them. 
 So, Paukewis laughed softly to himself, as with the 
 silent ariows he brought down bird after bird, and 
 saw it floating in the lake, while the others still 
 screamed and darted around him, unconscious of their 
 danger. At last a wary raven caught him in the 
 act of shooting, and cried out to the rest: "Paukewis 
 is killing us. Let us away and tell our father, 
 Manabozho !" Off flew the birds, and soon Mana- 
 bozho appeared, striding towards the cliff on which 
 the foolhardy Paukewis sat. Paukewis had not 
 counted on his looking so terrible, and as Manabozho 
 drew near, he for the first time in his life was seized 
 with fear, and, leaping to his feet, he ran. " Ah," 
 roared the other, pursuing him, " the earth is not 
 large enough to shield you from my vengeance." At 
 these terrible words, and the clatter of Manabozho s 
 steps behind him, Paukewis fled with the wings of 
 terror. Manabozho was fast gaining on him, when 
 he uprooted a pine tree and scattered its leaves to the 
 four winds of heaven, and continued his flight. As 
 Manabozho reached the place where the tree lay 
 prostrate, it besought him to restore it to life and 
 beauty, saying, "Great Chieftain, let me not perish 
 
190 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 by the hand of the caitiff Paukewis." Manabozho, 
 stopping to gather the leaves of the tree and restore 
 it to life, Paukewis gained ground, and kept on 
 destroying one tree after another in his track, a 
 hemlock, a spruce, a fir, and several others; and as 
 every time that Manabozho reached a tree that 
 Paukewis had destroyed, he stopped to restore it, he 
 was much delayed in the pursuit. 
 
 The trees at length became sparse, and Paukewis, 
 as he passed a rock, shattered it to flinders with a 
 blow. The foundation of the rock groaned and cried 
 out for help to Manabozho. By the time that Mana 
 bozho had restored the rock, Paukewis was flying 
 over a prairie towards a distant range of moun 
 tains. Soon he was almost within Manabozho s 
 grasp, when he raised such a cloud of dust and sand, 
 that Manabozho groped in the dark, and had to stop 
 until it had cleared away. Again Manabozho put 
 forth his hand to grasp Paukewis, when he dashed 
 into a hollow tree, and turning into a snake crawled 
 out at the roots, whence he darted off to some adjacent 
 trunks, and behind them, resuming his natural shape, 
 again fled. A moment later and the tree was crushed 
 to pieces by the powerful arm of Manabozho. 
 
 Before Manabozho caught sight of him again, 
 Paukewis had reached a dark precipice, which at his 
 summons opened, discovering the Spirit of the Rock, 
 
rAUKEWIS, THE WIZARD. 197 
 
 who let him in, and closed the entrance to the retreat. 
 Manabozho was soon thundering at the entrance, 
 seeking admittance. " Open," he -cried ; " it is in vain 
 for you to attempt to resist me." The Spirit of the 
 Kock was appalled and made no response, but said 
 to Paukewis: "I have sheltered you, and will die 
 before I yield you up." " Open," again cried Mana- 
 bozho. Again there was no response. " I give you 
 till night to live," roared Manabozho. " If when 
 darkness shall have corne, you have not submitted, 
 woe betide you." 
 
 As evening drew near, dun clouds massed in the 
 sky, and the wind sighed in. gusts through the moun 
 tain gorges. The Sun set, and the earth was wrapped 
 in darkness. Then there was a moment s silence, and 
 then amid the gloom of night and storm a heavy 
 mass crashed down the mountain side upon the rock 
 in whkh were hidden Paukewis and the Spirit, 
 shivering it to atoms. The sleeping Echoes, awak 
 ing, spread the tale throughout the valley, whence 
 in feeble whisperings it reached the remotest parts 
 of earth. Manabozho, loosing a tottering crag, had 
 launched it on the castle of his foe, burying him 
 beneath the ruins. 
 
 Then was Paukewis really dead. lie had been 
 killed in the form of various animals, and his spirit 
 had each time taken flight, again to animate his 
 
198 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 frame. Now he had been really killed, and his body 
 crushed out of all human likeness. This was the 
 end of his towering ambition. The memory of his 
 exploits remains : when wintry blasts sweep over 
 forest, plain, and fell of the great Northwest, driving 
 before them the sifting snow, people, drawing their 
 cloaks more closely around them, exclaim, "Ah, there 
 goes Paukewis." 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE MAIZE. 
 
 "CE, soon after the creation of the world, 
 the crop of Corn was so abundant that the 
 people, after storing some of it carelessly, trampled 
 the rest under foot, or let it rot upon the ground. 
 The hunting season proved bad; they found little 
 game, and that shy ; and soon bethinking them of the 
 Corn at home, returned to get it. But some of it 
 had been destroyed by the weather, and some by the 
 rats and mice. Then they bewailed their sad fate as 
 they looked forward to starvation. On a certain day, 
 a wise man among them, who had warned them 
 against their extravagance, was walking in a lonely 
 spot, plunged in sad thoughts, when he heard groans 
 issuing from a field, and stepping forward a few 
 paces, saw reclining on a worn hide, a ragged, sickly 
 Dwarf. u Ah, look ! well you may !" cried the 
 Dwarf, in a shrill voice. " See to what a pass you 
 have brought the once bright and beautiful Spirit of 
 the Maize." The good man, filled with wonder and 
 compassion, shrank out of sight, and hasting home, 
 told what he had seen. The people set about re 
 pairing their neglect, dug and weeded the fields, col 
 lected the Corn that the rats and mice had spared, 
 
200 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 and planted and tended it carefully. They managed 
 to subsist on a scanty supply of meat and roots, 
 until a plenteous harvest crowned their hopes and 
 toil, and never more did they abuse the abundance 
 with which they were blessed. 
 
CHASKE, THE WANDEEER. 
 
 was a youth, who, tired of leading 
 an idle life, determined to travel in search of 
 adventures. At dawn, one day, he threw his bow 
 and well-stocked quiver over his shoulders, and set 
 out. He had not walked more than a few paces, 
 when he stopped, saying to himself: "I had not 
 made up my mind which way to go. Let it depend 
 on chance," continued he, putting his hand over 
 his shoulder, drawing an arrow from the quiver, and 
 fitting it to the bowstring. He shut his eyes, twirled 
 round on one heel, and shooting the arrow at ran 
 dom, opened his eyes in time to see the direction 
 that it took. " Good," said he, following the arrow; 
 " it wasn t easy to decide which way to go, when all 
 ways were alike to me." He stepped briskly for 
 ward, imagining that he should find his arrow where 
 he thought he saw it fall, two or three hundred yards 
 off; but he searched and searched, gave it up for 
 lost, and kept on in the same direction. Towards 
 evening he stopped to make a shelter in which to 
 pass the night, when, lo ! before his eyes, lay an elk 
 pierced to the heart with the arrow. He drew the 
 arrow from the wound, replaced it in his quiver, and 
 
 18 
 
202 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 cutting out the elk s tongue, set it before the fire, to 
 roast for supper. While the tongue was roasting, 
 he, overcome with fatigue, fell fast asleep. 
 
 The first thing that he knew was that he felt a 
 violent shake, and, starting from his sleep, he looked 
 up, and by the first faint streak of dawn, beheld a 
 woman, with her face turned away, standing near him 
 and pointing to his onward path. He rubbed his eyes, 
 thinking that he must be dreaming, and looked again. 
 There stood the figure, mutely pointing to the path, 
 upon which it then began slowly to advance. He 
 rose, and without considering why, obeyed the sign. 
 When he had for some time followed in silence, he 
 said to himself: " Tis very strange that she does not 
 speak nor even turn her head : I will accost her." 
 The first sounds had hardly syllabled themselves 
 upon his lips, when the woman, raising her arms 
 aloft, dissolved into a haze, from which a beautiful 
 blue bird rose and flew out of sight. Chaske was 
 charmed. " Not in vain," thought he, " have I 
 journeyed to see the world, if I meet such de 
 lightful adventures." Forgetting all about his un- 
 tasted supper, which might have served for breakfast, 
 he resumed his way, after again choosing the direc 
 tion by shutting his eyes and shooting an arrow at a 
 venture. 
 
 Late in the evening he found the arrow buried in 
 
CHASKE, THE WANDERER. 203 
 
 the heart of a moose. " I will not be cheated out of 
 my supper to-night," thought he, as he cut out the 
 tongue of the moose and spitted it on a stick to roast. 
 Throwing himself down by the fire to wait until the 
 meat was done, despite his resolution sleep surprised 
 him, and at daylight he felt himself violently shaken, 
 and, looking up, saw a woman, with averted face, 
 pointing to the path. He leaped to his feet as she 
 walked away, and instead of addressing her, seized 
 her rudely by the arm. She turned on him with a 
 scowl, black as night, and disappearing, a crow 
 escaped from his grasp and flew croaking over the 
 tree-tops. 
 
 He was sorely puzzled and provoked : that he, 
 Chaske, the adored of women, for whom he had all 
 his life shown the heartiest contempt, should have 
 lived to pursue one, and be baffled by her, was hard 
 to bear! but twice had that happened within a day ! 
 It was enough to make him dash out his brains 
 against the nearest rock, for very spite ! But he did 
 nothing of the kind : he made a stronger resolution 
 than ever not to fall asleep, and then blindly shooting 
 an arrow, followed the direction that it had taken. 
 
 At nightfall he found the arrow in the heart of a 
 buffalo. "Now," thought he, "I am determined to 
 get something to eat, and to find out, too, who it is 
 that wakes me." He fell asleep as usual, and was 
 
204 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 awakened in the morning by a woman, who touched 
 him gently, and, with averted face, pointed to the 
 path. Chaske did not give her time to take a step 
 forward : he leaped to his feet, and seizing her, held 
 her firmly in his grasp, and turned her head so that 
 he might see her face. Never before had he beheld 
 anything half so beautiful. The lily s white and the 
 rose s bloom blended in her face, over which fell a 
 tangled mass of golden tresses. He could not speak, 
 so wildly did his heart throb with delight. But he 
 did not release the maiden ; he clasped her all the 
 closer in his embrace. " Let me go," x she cried ; 
 "why dost thou hold me? I am a descendant of the 
 race of Beavers, and thou, of men! Seek a wife 
 among the maidens of thine own people." 
 
 "Always have I despised them," cried Chaske; " I 
 now know why. O, thou, more beautiful than the 
 Water-Sprites, I love thee! I can never love another." 
 " If thou wouldst wed me," replied the maiden, 
 "thou must give up thine own people ; I. cannot live 
 as they. Come, if thou wilt, to my lodge by the 
 bright, clear water, whose music gladdens me by 
 day, and serves me for a lullaby by night." The 
 maiden took him by the hand, and led him to her 
 lodge by the water. There they married, lived, and 
 were happy. Soon a son was born to them, and they 
 
CHASKE, THE WANDERER. 205 
 
 were rejoiced, for although they loved each other, 
 still, without children, it is lonely everywhere. 
 
 Only one thing troubled Chaske : he constantly 
 brooded over it, and could not drive it from his 
 mind his wife never would eat with him. When 
 he returned from hunting, she appeared glad to see 
 him, and welcomed him kindly ; but she never sat 
 down to supper with him; would say she did not feel 
 hungry, and would then try to change the subject. 
 Chaske made up his mind that he would discover 
 what his wife lived upon. Accordingly, he hid him 
 self in the woods, a short distance from the lodge, to 
 watch her movements. She soon appeared, carrying 
 a hatchet, and approached a grove of poplars. After 
 glancing around, to make sure that no one saw her, 
 she cut down some saplings, and stripping off the 
 bark, ate it with much relish. Chaske said to him 
 self: " It is a strange taste, hers; I suppose it comes 
 of her being a descendant of the Beavers. How 
 ever, it is a great relief to know that she does not 
 live on nothing but air." Like the good husband 
 that he was, he determined to let her indulge her 
 harmless fancy, and show her, too, that he had not 
 the slightest objection. So, as he was coming home 
 from hunting, the next evening, he stopped at the 
 poplar grove and cut a few saplings, and bringing 
 
 18* 
 
206 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 them to the lodge, said to his wife, "See here, I 
 have brought thee what thou likest." 
 
 Who could have imagined that Chaske s sweet 
 little wife, instead of being pleased with her hus 
 band s showing her that she could do as she pleased, 
 would fly into a temper, and picking up her child, 
 flounce out of the lodge ! but so it happened. He 
 thought that his best course would be to let her 
 have time to cool, and so quietly sat down and ate 
 his supper before he went after her. When he went, 
 he did not see her, and night coming on, he grew so 
 uneasy that he started off in search of her. Follow 
 ing her footprints, he walked all night, and at dawn 
 reached a beaver-dam, on top of which she was 
 seated, dandling her baby. He shouted to her from 
 the bank: "Why didst thou leave me?" and she 
 replied, " Why didst thou watch me? Did I not tell 
 thee that I could not live as thy people?" 
 
 Chaske explained that he had meant no harm, but, 
 on the contrary, had intended to give her a pleasant 
 surprise. He entreated her to forget what had passed, 
 and restore to him her love. But she continued to 
 sit- on the beaver-dam, now and then casting an 
 indifferent glance in his direction, and seeming ab 
 sorbed in the child. At last it nestled in her bosom, 
 and both mother and child fell asleep, Chaske, also, 
 exhausted with grief and fatigue, finally fell asleep. 
 
, CHASKE, THE WANDERER. 207 
 
 At noon he felt a touch on the shoulder, and, 
 awakening, saw a strange woman, who said to him : 
 "Can a man love a woman who despises him?" 
 "My wife still loves me," replied Chaske. "She 
 did," said the woman, " but she does no longer." 
 "Can it be," cried Chaske, turning towards his wife, 
 who had awakened, " that thou no longer lovest 
 me?" She turned on the woman and cried : " Who 
 art thou that troublest thyself about other people s 
 affairs? Ah, now I look again, I know thee ! thou 
 art a descendant of the Bears." "What if I am?" 
 replied the strange woman; "I come of a more noble 
 stock than thine r and better deserve the love of this 
 noble youth, than thou, who dost cruelly treat him." 
 Hereupon each began to boast of her own family, 
 and abuse that of the other, until the din was fright 
 ful. When they were hoarse with talking at each 
 other, the strange woman turned towards Chaske, and 
 sniffing the air contemptuously, said : " Come with 
 me and be happy." He turned a despairing look 
 towards his wife, who took no notice of him, and 
 rising slowly, he accompanied the strange woman. 
 
 The strange woman had soon so bewitched him, 
 that he for a time entirely forgot that he had a wife, 
 and he married her. She was not beautiful : if you 
 could say she was pretty, it was the most you could 
 say for her. Then she proved to be of a very disa- 
 
208 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 greeable temper, and ordered about her lord and mas 
 ter as though he had been her slave. They got on 
 comfortably enough, however, until she presented 
 him with boy twins, one of which, strange to relate, 
 gradually turned into a little black Bear. The Boy 
 and the Bear fought an endless rough-and-tumble 
 fight, in which the little Bear, strong and active 
 though he was, always got worsted. The father would 
 take the side of the Boy, and the mother, of the 
 Bear, and there was no longer any peace in the house. 
 One morning the mother rose in a very bad humor, 
 and soon afterwards the Boy and the Bear getting 
 into a fight, she snatched up the Bear and ran away. 
 " Ah, me !" exclaimed Chaske, " I have had enough 
 of adventures: if I had married among my own 
 people, I should not have led this unquiet life." So 
 saying, he picked up the little Boy and trudged 
 after his wife. In a short time he caught up to her, 
 and stopping her, asked where she was going. " I 
 am going back to my own people," she replied. 
 "Well," said Chaske, "why didst thou not say so? 
 I will go with thee." The woman could not say nay, 
 although it was easy to see that she did not want 
 him. 
 
 After journeying several days they drew near 
 some dense woods. " Dost thou see those woods?" said 
 Chaske s wife: "that is the town of the Bears. Per- 
 
CHASKE, THE WANDERER. 209 
 
 haps them hadst better return : T have several lovers 
 there who may eat thee up." But Chaske said that 
 he too could play at that game, and they entered the 
 village, he leading the little* Boy by the hand, she 
 leading the little Bear. There was a great commo 
 tion among the Bears on the arrival of the party, and 
 many deep growls reached Chaske s ears as he passed 
 along. They concluded, however, not to molest him, 
 and he took possession of a lodge for the accommo 
 dation of his family. 
 
 Chaske soon saw that he was among enemies. 
 The Boy, being a spirited little fellow, was always 
 engaged in fights with the Cubs, and, one time, a Cub 
 having attacked him, he killed it and cooked a piece 
 of it for supper. When this came to the ears of the 
 big Bears, they plotted to take the lives of both 
 father and son. Chaske suspected their design, and 
 having found out that he could not count on the aid 
 of his wife, escaped from the town with his little 
 Boy, and turned his steps homeward. 
 
 It was not easy to recognize in the jaded, care 
 worn Chaske, the gay youth who, a few years before, 
 had left his home in quest of adventures. When he 
 announced who he was, and told his story, some be 
 lieved, and some doubted, but all seemed to agree 
 in laughing; and if it had not been for his little Boy, 
 he would have departed and never again set foot in 
 
210 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 his native place. The girls were particularly severe: 
 when they heard of the beaver- woman s desertion, 
 they were delighted ; but when they heard of the 
 bear-woman s, they were tickled to death, clapped 
 their hands, and burst into peals of laughter, ex 
 claiming, " It just served him right." They all, how 
 ever, both men and women, agreed in thinking that, 
 despite the existence of the Boy, Chaske had never 
 really been married, but had been subjected to magi- 
 ,cal arts. 
 
 There was one who in secret had always loved him, 
 whom the sneers and the merriment, and the mock 
 sympathy of her companions pained instead of de 
 lighted. She truly pitied and yearned towards the 
 unhappy man. She dared not at once reveal her feel 
 ings, lest she should bring down on both a fresh 
 storm of mockery, but waiting until the night was far 
 advanced, stole noiselessly to the lodge where he lay 
 awake beside his sleeping Boy, and softly addressed 
 him : " Chaske," she whispered, " art thou awake ?" 
 "I am," was the reply; "how can the wretched 
 sleep?" "Dost thou know me?" said the girl. 
 " Thy voice," said he, " is like music long heard un 
 heeded." "Listen, Chaske," resumed the girl; "thou 
 didst depart proud, and hast returned humble; but the 
 wealth of love that I can bestow on thee was never 
 so great as now. Good- night, and pleasant dreams. 
 
CHASKE, THE WANDERER. 211 
 
 To-morrow I will know if thou deserves! my love, by 
 the smile that detects my heart amid a hundred in 
 different ones." 
 
 The next day Chaske sought the maiden whose 
 love had brought him back to life. He passed many 
 a pleasant face, which, seeing how his had brightened, 
 wore for him its most bewitching grace, but passed 
 it coldly by: it was not hers. At length came a 
 pensive maiden, whose eyes looked silent worship 
 pers of the beautiful and good, and lips twin messen 
 gers of gentleness and peace. Chaske, and then the 
 maiden, smiled, and they strayed away together, side 
 by side. Long did they live to enjoy each other s 
 love, and the day that he was touched by death s 
 hand, saw her also laid in the grave beside him. 
 
THE DEMON S COMPACT. 
 
 MAN, ambitious, and of an evil mind, 
 dreamed that he walked by the waters, and 
 smiting them with a rod, they revolved, and from 
 their midst the Demon rose, and said that he could 
 grant him any boon. The man, terrified, awoke, but 
 soon courted sleep, to prolong his dream. Again the 
 Demon, rising, said, "Any boon that thou mayst ask, 
 the power is given me to grant." Ten times, in as 
 many dreams, the Demon used those words, and on 
 the tenth disappeared, crying, "Fool, strike, strike, 
 or forfeit thy last chance !" 
 
 The last dream was so vivid, that the man sprang 
 up on his couch. His wife beside him gave a little 
 scream, at what she knew not, and awoke just in 
 time to see him rise with haggard face, and, clutching 
 a willow wand that he had made for magic rites, 
 speed to the border of the adjacent lake. Filled 
 with a strange dread, she followed, and saw him 
 approach the shore and tap the waters thrice. In 
 stantly the sound of myriad distant drums filled the 
 air, and the waters began to seethe and revolve. 
 She cowered to the ground, and retreating, looked 
 on from afar. The man wildly struck the darkling 
 
THE DEMON S COMPACT. 213 
 
 waters; louder and louder sounded the drums; the 
 whirlpool dashed away the pebbles at his feet. 
 Again and again, wildly and more wildly still, he 
 struck. The drums and the roar of the waves grew 
 deafening ; fishes and reptiles gleamed as they passed 
 around the rapid circle; and the rising tide almost 
 swept him from his feet. Still he did not desist, but 
 bracing himself against a tree, struck frantically, as 
 he cried, " Unktahe, Unktahe, why dost thou not 
 appear?" As he uttered these words the rush of 
 waters ceased, a huge horned head and brawny bulk 
 emerged, and the mighty Demon stood before him. 
 "What wouldst thou?" said a low, deep voice that 
 boomed over the surface of the lake. The man 
 quailed as he gazed on the giant form ; his knees 
 smote each other; and a voice issuing from his 
 oppressed bosom, whispered in accents strange to 
 his own ear "One moment." "Now or never," 
 said the Demon " what wouldst thou?" "Untold 
 wealth and power," gasped the man. "At any cost?" 
 said the Demon " hast thou well considered? Much 
 will remain to thee, but yearly thou must devote to 
 me that one of thy treasures, were it thy dearest, 
 which I select : dost thou consent?" "I do," replied 
 the man. " Each year, then, at this day and hour," 
 rejoined the Demon, "I shall require of thee thine 
 eldest child." As the Demon thus spoke, the waters 
 
 19 
 
214 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 once more whirled and roared, and, gulping him 
 down, subsided to a state of rest. 
 
 More dead than alive, the man staggered from 
 the shore towards home. On his way he stumbled 
 over the prostrate form of his swooning wife, who, 
 reviving, looked doubtingly upon his wan face, as 
 she exclaimed, " husband, hast thou done any 
 evil?" "Kise, woman," he replied, "and do not 
 pester me with vain questioning all the riches and 
 power that earth affords are thine: what wouldst 
 thou more?" "Contentment," thought the woman, 
 meekly following him ; " but I fear me that it never 
 will be ours." 
 
 Wealth and power the man had without stint, 
 but the heart that he bore was like lead : each year 
 the remorseless Demon took his eldest child. Vainly 
 rebelling, he sought to break his pledge to the evil 
 Spirit with whom he had tampered, and save his 
 children, but at the appointed day and hour they 
 disappeared. When all had gone, his wife, too, his 
 last stay, also disappeared. He rushed to the lake 
 and madly smote the waters, which rose and swept 
 fiercely around, and, oh, horror! bore past him in 
 their whirl, the corpses of his wife and children, 
 amidst which uprose Unktahe s giant form. " Mon 
 ster," he cried, "take me, too; why do I cumber 
 the earth, which, with all on it, I abhor? Take 
 
THE DEMON S COMPACT. 215 
 
 me, too," he yelled in agony ; " I deserve to die!" 
 " Thou mistakest," said the dreadful voice; "death 
 were too good for thee ; thou art doomed to live." 
 The Demon sank, and left the man alone alone with 
 his wealth, his power, and his misery. 
 
THE ROAD TO PARADISE. 
 
 ITU a parting pang at separation from his 
 wife and children, the spirit of Gichegau 
 Zinee fled, and reembodied found itself standing on 
 the road to Paradise, gazing at the beauteous scene 
 surrounding. The road wound over hill and dale, 
 through tuneful groves festooned with perfumed 
 flowers, and dipping through a valley wrapped in 
 silvery mists, rose and was lost to sight in a vista 
 gorgeous with the dyes of summer clouds at sunset. 
 Throngs of men, women, and children toiled along 
 under the burden of weapons, implements, utensils, 
 to^ys, and every article conceivable. Gichegau Zinee 
 glanced down at himself, and seeing that only he 
 was unencumbered, turned on his heel and bent his 
 steps towards the Land of the Living. As he ap 
 proached, a great fire seemed to bar his progress and 
 shift to meet him whichever way he strove to pass. 
 At last he gave a frantic leap, when lo ! he awoke 
 from his trance, and found himself lying on his 
 couch, surrounded by his friends. " My friends," 
 said he, turning towards them, " I return from the 
 Land of Spirits, where I saw a goodly company 
 grievously taxed by our mistaken kindness. I now 
 
THE ROAD TO PARADISE. 217 
 
 know that we are wrong in depositing on the grave 
 so many objects that belonged to the deceased. Let 
 us in future act wisely, and not defraud the living of 
 what is of use to them, and with it harass the happy 
 journey of the dead. 1 
 
THE TWO GHOSTS. 
 
 T dusk, one evening, a hunter s wife, who was 
 in momentary expectation of her husband s 
 return from the Forest, heard footsteps approaching 
 her door, and opening it, saw two great gaunt wo 
 men dressed in sweeping mantles. Although she 
 did not recognize them, she hospitably invited them 
 to enter. Without a word of thanks for her civility, 
 they brushed past her, and seated themselves in a 
 dark corner of the lodge. Surprised at this rudeness, 
 she eyed them with suspicion, and summoning up 
 all her courage, asked whence they came and whether 
 she could be of any service to them. In reply, they 
 muttered something about needing food and lodging, 
 and muffling their faces, preserved a strict silence. 
 
 A chill crept over the hunter s wife as she watched 
 the two women cowering in the dark corner, and she 
 made no further advances, but stole noiselessly about 
 the lodge, attending to her household affairs, and 
 earnestly praying for her husband s return. After 
 an age, as it seemed to her, she heard him coming, 
 and quietly slipping out of the door, and clutching 
 him by the shoulder, turned him round so that he 
 could see into the lodge, whispering, "Look there!" 
 
THE TWO GHOSTS. 219 
 
 At that moment, the fire, which had been low, 
 sparkled and flamed, and the two women turned 
 their faces towards the blaze. " Great heavens !" 
 said the hunter to his clinging wife ; "they are corpses 
 in their grave-clothes." " So 1 thought," said the poor 
 woman, trembling all over, as though in a fit of the 
 ague. "Now I look again," whispered the husband, 
 " they are the image of two dead relations that 
 once lived here what shall we do ! Wife, let us 
 enter, and if we pretend not to fear them, perhaps 
 they will the sooner rid us of their presence." 
 
 The hunter and his wife, endeavoring to stifle their 
 horror, entered the lodge, and tried to behave just 
 as though they did not mind in the least the presence 
 of their visitors ; but every now and then they could 
 not help glancing at the dark corner and shuddering. 
 When the evening meal was ready, they looked at each 
 other, as though asking, " What is to be done now?" 
 Their visitors spared them the trouble of deciding, 
 for, unbidden, they slowly emerged from the corner, 
 and silently seated themselves at supper. The 
 hunter and his wife, with eyes starting from the 
 socket, and mouths agape, sat with their food un- 
 tasted, speechlessly gazing at the ghastly visages of 
 their guests, who, on their part, seemed almost 
 unconscious of the presence of their host and hostess, 
 and calmly regaled themselves on the choicest viands. 
 
220 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 If the hunter and his wife had not had any appetite 
 for supper, neither had they, you may be sure, any 
 disposition to sleep when they retired to rest. Soon 
 afterward they saw the two women take axes and sally 
 forth, one saying to the other, u We must provide fuel." 
 Then the hunter and his wife lay awake whispering, 
 and wondering whether the women would return ; 
 but they were not long kept in suspense, for in about 
 an hour the women returned carrying two fagots. 
 Replacing their axes, the women retired to the dark 
 corner, and seemed to go to sleep, whereas the hunter 
 and his wife lay awake all night, trembling and nest 
 ling close to each other. . 
 
 When breakfast was served on the following 
 morning, the two guests sat down uninvited and 
 partook of it, while the poor hunter and his wife 
 had scarcely the heart to touch a morsel. When he 
 as usual left the lodge, his wife hurriedly followed 
 him, and implored him not to leave her alone, telling 
 him that she could not bear it, she should die. He 
 tried to encourage her, by reminding her that it was 
 daylight, and that their visitors seemed to be harmless ; 
 and he promised to return earlier than usual. He 
 added that, if both he and she were patient and kind, 
 the intruders would probably go before long, but if 
 otherwise, some evil might befall them. 
 
 The hunter, as he had promised, returned earlier 
 
THE TWO GHOSTS. 221 
 
 than usual, and found matters apparently as he had left 
 them in the morning. As soon as he could find an 
 opportunity to speak to his wife alone, he seized it, to 
 inquire how the visitors had behaved. She replied 
 that they had sat in the dark corner all day, without 
 breathing a word. Supper was a repetition of the 
 preceding meals, the guests eating quietly, and never 
 breaking silence, while the hunter and his wife sat 
 half famished and mute. As, on the previous night, 
 supper over, the visitors took axes, and after an hour s 
 absence, brought back two fagots. They then re 
 tired to their corner and slept, while the hunter and 
 his wife lay awake all night. 
 
 Thus matters went on for many days, the guests 
 conducting themselves in the most exemplary manner, 
 appearing regularly at meals, remaining silent unless 
 spoken to, and at night cutting fuel for the use of the 
 family. The alarm of the hunter and his wife had in 
 great measure subsided, and they began to be impa 
 tient at the prolonged visit of the women : terror 
 had given place to annoyance. The wife, whose 
 duties kept her indoors, and who, therefore, had to 
 bear the brunt of the disagreeableness, at last grew 
 quite indignant at these outrageous guests, who, 
 uninvited, made her house their home, and helped 
 themselves to the best of everything on the table. 
 
222 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 So, one day, during her husband s absence, when 
 one of the women had provoked her by taking a 
 dainty which she had reserved for him, she snatched 
 it out of her hand, exclaiming that she would* stand 
 it no longer, she didn t care whether they were her 
 husband s dead relations or not. 
 
 The women made no reply, but that very night, 
 the hunter and his wife being asleep, for now that 
 they had become used to the presence of the strangers, 
 they could sleep, they were awakened by the sound 
 of moaning and sobbing. The hunter sat up, and 
 saw by the dim light of the fire, the two visitors 
 wringing their hands, and moaning and sobbing as 
 though their hearts would break. " What is the mat 
 ter?" said he. "Have you not always been kindly 
 treated here ?" One of the women, composing herself, 
 answered : " Three Moons were accorded to us, to 
 test the sincerity of grief for the departed. Not 
 much more than half the time appointed had elapsed, 
 when we found that our presence was disagreeable. 
 Yet we have taken no more than is the due of old 
 age ; have avoided vain babbling ; and have aided in 
 lieu of obstructing household affairs. We have no 
 thing to complain of; we are disappointed, that is 
 all ; but that was what we were led to expect : we are 
 now convinced that things are best as they are." 
 
THE TWO GHOSTS. 223 
 
 The muffled figures, wringing their hands, glided 
 towards the door ; the hunter and his wife heard it 
 open and shut, and the sounds of sobbing and moan 
 ing grow by degrees fainter and fainter, until lost in 
 the stillness of night. 
 
BKOKEN WING AND THE ORPHANED BROOD, 
 
 SPOETSM AN once shot both parents of a 
 brood of six little Hawks, of which only the 
 eldest one was quite fledged. All day long the brood 
 kept up a twittering, clustering from side to side 
 of the nest, presenting their beaks for food ; but 
 night found them famished and cold, huddling to 
 gether for warmth and company, and now and then 
 giving an uneasy chirp, as though the poor little 
 things suspected, what they knew the next day, that 
 they were orphans. 
 
 Next morning the eldest consoled his brothers and 
 sisters, and undertook to provide for them until they 
 could fly. Sad to relate, just when the time came to 
 go south to avoid the winter, he broke his wing. 
 Nevertheless, he said to them, " You must go, for 
 winter is coming, and you will perish if you stay." 
 But they all answered, "No, no, we will not desert 
 you;" and choosing for a shelter a big hollow tree, 
 put store of provision into it, and carried their 
 brother thither to pass the winter. 
 
 Soon the injured Bird got well, and resumed his 
 hunting, in which all seemed skilful but the young 
 est, who never brought home any game. The eldest 
 gently chid him for his want of skill. " It is not 
 
BROKEN WING AND THE ORPHANED BROOD. 225 
 
 that," said the other, (c which prevents my being as 
 successful as the rest : whenever I capture anything, 
 a great white Owl robs me of it." (c Do not be cast 
 down," rejoined the eldest; " next time I will accom 
 pany and protect you." The next day, accordingly, 
 they went out together. The youngest soon pounced 
 upon his prey, and was bearing it off, when the white 
 Owl appeared, and would have robbed him of it, if 
 the eldest had not come to the rescue and taken the 
 Owl prisoner. No sooner had they reached home 
 than the youngest flew in the Owl s face and began 
 to abuse him. "Hold, hold," said the eldest; "the 
 Owl is my prisoner ; but even were it otherwise, do 
 you not know that it is base to tyrannize over the 
 vanquished?" So saying, he let the Owl go. 
 
 Thus did the eldest, by his exertions, instruction, 
 and example, supply to the rest the griavous loss of 
 both parents, and they returned his devotion, and 
 formed a united family. When, at length, mating 
 with neighboring Birds, they flew away to establish 
 other homes, the good influence of their early life 
 was apparent in them to the very end of their days. 
 
THE BOY THAT SNAEED THE SUN, 
 
 GIKL and her little brother once lived all 
 alone, so surrounded by wild beasts that 
 they hardly durst venture abroad. She had to pro 
 tect him, instead of his having to protect her ; for 
 he was so little and delicate that he could have been 
 carried off by a hawk, or been blown away by a high 
 wind. He was withal of so peevish a disposition as 
 sometimes to give his sister a great deal of trouble. 
 However, pitying him for his puniness, and attributing 
 to it his infirmity of temper, she tended him kindly, 
 and bore with all his humors, whims, and oddities. 
 Little did she suspect that the puny fellow was a 
 genius, who. would have set the world afire if it had 
 
 not been for but that is the end of the story, let 
 
 us begin at the beginning. 
 
 One day the little boy shot a dozen snow-birds, 
 brought them to his sister, and told her to make him 
 a coat of their skins. " Yery well," said she; "any 
 thing to please you." So she took the birds, skinned 
 them, and made him a coat, with which he was as 
 pleased as Punch. Putting it on, he went strutting 
 about until he was weary, and having by that time 
 rambled far from home, he lay down on a knoll and 
 
THE BOY THAT SNARED THE SUN. 227 
 
 took a long nap. The Sun shone fiercely upon him, 
 so that he awoke hot, thirsty, and cross. He sat up, 
 and feeling uncomfortable, glanced down at his coat, 
 and found that it had shrunk with the heat, and was 
 ruined. At this discovery he sprang to his feet, 
 storming away like a chorus of crickets. " You did 
 it," said he, looking up at the Sun; "you needn t 
 stare at me in that impudent way; you are not be 
 yond reach : I 11 fix you when I get home." Off the 
 little fellow trudged, smothering his wrath. "When 
 he got home he told his sister to give him some of 
 her hair to make a noose to catch the Sun. She gave 
 him a long tress, and then another, and then another, 
 and before nightfall he had twisted them into a strong 
 cord, long enough to wind several times around his 
 body. Then he put a slip-knot at one end of the 
 cord, and the snare was complete. Before morning it 
 was set in the East, so that the moment the Sun 
 peeped above the horizon, he would be caught. Sure 
 enough, the next morning the Sun was caught and 
 held fast, and his beams poured down on one place 
 on the earth, and all the rest was left in cold and 
 darkness. 
 
 Then there was great commotion among all the 
 wild beasts, and, advancing towards the light, they 
 found out what was the matter, and held a great 
 council. It was decided that some one must go and 
 
228 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 cut the cord that held the Sun. That was easy 
 enough to decide; the difficulty was to get some one 
 to do it. At length the Dormouse, which at that 
 time was the largest animal in the world, undertook 
 the task. It looked like a mountain when it started ; 
 but as it drew near the Sun, its hair and skin began 
 to singe and shrivel ; as it drew nearer still, it began 
 to shrink in size ; and by the time that it had got 
 close enough and had cut the cord, it had dwindled 
 almost to nothing, and has remained so ever since. 
 
 What became of the little boy was never known, 
 but he was never heard of afterward. Some per 
 sons say that he was too bright to live, and shortly 
 afterward died ; others, that, in revenge, he was de 
 voured by the wild beasts. However, nothing is 
 positively known of his fate : neither of the stories 
 is probably quite true. 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 
 
 CE upon a time, long, long ago, when there 
 were not nearly so many people in the world 
 as there are now, a hunter, with his wife and two 
 children, lived in a lonely and beautiful spot. It was 
 surrounded on every side by mountains, valleys, 
 lakes, and rivers, which were so plentifully stocked 
 with game and fish, that the family enjoyed the great 
 est abundance. They lived contented and happy for 
 many years, and might have continued thus to live 
 for many years more, had the wife not been a very 
 wicked woman. So wicked was she, that she even 
 conspired with a young warrior, whom she had once 
 by accident met in the Forest, to murder her husband, 
 that she might marry him. Her husband, however, 
 who had for a long time perceived her misconduct, 
 and suspected her designs on his life, was so constantly 
 on his guard, that she had no opportunity to accom 
 plish her purpose. He, on his part, burned to exe 
 cute vengeance on his wife and her lover, if his suspi 
 cions should be confirmed. He, therefore, having by 
 his behavior lulled his wife into a feeling of security, 
 tracked her into the Forest, where, from the conceal 
 ment of a clump of bushes, he witnessed her meet- 
 
 20* 
 
230 A.1ERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 ing with the young warrior. Fully armed, and furious 
 at the sight, his first impulse was to kill them both ; 
 but, with a great effort, he restrained his hand, think 
 ing: " She is the guilty one; she it is that has wronged 
 me; I will kill her on her return." He quietly 
 slipped away unobserved, and returned to his lodge, 
 where he threw himself on the floor, and, covering 
 his face with his hands, yielded to the agony of his 
 despair. As he thus lay, he was aroused from his 
 bitter thoughts by hearing on the outside of the lodge 
 the voices of the two children. He sat up with a 
 rigid calm on his face, and listened to the artless 
 prattle of the younger child. Gradually the stern 
 expression of his features relaxed, the tears stole 
 down his cheeks, and, with two or three convulsive 
 sobs, he rose to his feet, staggered outside of the 
 lodge, and, laying a hand on the head of each of the 
 children, drew them towards him and embraced them; 
 then releasing them, and turning quickly on his heel, 
 strode off into the Wilderness. The children, startled 
 at their father s strange demeanor, stood mutely 
 watching his form disappearing in the brushwood. 
 They could not hear him muttering through his 
 clenched teeth: "I cannot slay her she is their 
 mother; for their sakes she will love and cherish 
 them : let her conscience be my avenger." 
 
 Ah, little did the generous man know the heart 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 231 
 
 to which he had so trustingly confided his little ones ! 
 sure that love of offspring must always dwell in a 
 mother s breast that nothing can displace it. The 
 wretched woman was faithless alike to her husband 
 and to her children. She returned to the lodge to 
 regret her husband s protracted absence, only because 
 she and her accomplice were then ready to attempt 
 his life. Hour after hour she impatiently awaited his 
 coming, that she might execute her design ; but days 
 passed, and still he did not return. At last, strange 
 to say, considering what the children had told her, 
 the true cause of his absence dawned upon her ; and 
 her heart leaped with joy at the thought that she was 
 free to come and to go at pleasure. Not a spark of ten 
 derness for her children lingered in the breast of this 
 unnatural mother; her new love had absorbed all 
 else ; and, leaving her children, she departed with the 
 young warrior. 
 
 The little orphan boys, one of six and the other 
 of twelve years of age, did not for a long while know 
 that they had been deserted. At last the younger 
 became terrified at the continued absence of his 
 father and mother, and began to cry bitterly for 
 them, as lost. The elder, although at heart just as 
 much alarmed as his brother, managed for a long 
 time to cheer him up, representing to him, that their 
 father and mother must have gone somewhere to- 
 
232 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 gether, where they did not see fit to inform their 
 children, and that they could not fail to return soon, 
 now that they had been gone for so long a time. At 
 last, however, his own firmness gave way, and then 
 he drew his brother to him, and hugging and kissing 
 the little fellow, told him that he thought they must 
 never expect to see their father and mother any 
 more, and must henceforth be all in all to each 
 other. The disguise being thus cast aside, the elder 
 boy had no motive left to restrain his own grief, 
 and so the two boys clung to each other, and wept 
 and moaned, and cried aloud, day after day, night 
 after night. Oh, fearfully long were the days, and 
 more fearfully long the nights, with sounds of high 
 wind and the howls of wild beasts ! Both night and day 
 came and lingered, and seemed as though they would 
 never pass, whilst the little boys wept and moaned 
 themselves to sleep, and woke, then wept and moaned 
 themselves to sleep again. They had not although 
 they thought that they had given up all hope. How 
 they longed for day to come! they hoped that it 
 might bring their father and mother. How slowly 
 they found the day pass ! every moment they were 
 on the stretch with hope and disappointment. They 
 wished that day would last always, they had so 
 great a dread of night. But night would come, and 
 as the light of day waned, the little boys would 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 233 
 
 grow more and more sad, and lie down with their 
 arms about each other, and cry themselves to sleep, 
 and wake and moan, and wish for daylight, that it 
 were always day; and fall asleep, and dream that their 
 father and mother had come, and wake to find them 
 selves alone, cold, and hungry. They began to be 
 pinched with hunger; they had eaten the last crumb of 
 food in the lodge, and even at first there had been no 
 great supply. They were wofully changed ; they had 
 grown very old; at least a year older in a week. 
 Nothing makes people so old as misery does : when 
 you see poor children, with queer old weazen faces, 
 thank God that he lets you grow old more slowly. 
 
 The pangs of hunger soon drove from the minds 
 of the boys the acute grief from which they had at 
 first suffered, on account of the loss of their father 
 and mother. The elder boy realized that he must 
 be up and doing, or else they would both starve. 
 Naturally resolute, and nerved by the strait in which 
 they found themselves placed, he, now that he was 
 no longer paralyzed by grief, rapidly summed up in 
 his mind the state of affairs. He said to himself, in 
 the first place, that now he was sure that his father 
 and mother would not return, and in the second 
 place, that he and his brother could no longer 
 remain. He felt inspired with renewed courage, on 
 reflecting how utterly dependent upon him was his 
 
234 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 younger brother. He determined to leave the lodge 
 with the morrow s dawn. At the time set, he, with 
 a resolute, if not a cheerful heart, taking his little 
 brother s hand in his, sallied forth into the Wilder 
 ness. During the first few hours, when his brother 
 became tired of walking, he carried him on his back. 
 
 For days all that the boys had to live on were 
 the wild berries which they gathered. They had no 
 idea how to guide their course, in fact they had no 
 idea of a course. They strayed away from the 
 lodge, day after day plunging deeper into the Forest; 
 hoping that they would come across some habitation 
 where they would find kind people to shelter them. 
 Weary, ragged, and footsore, driven by want, but 
 sustained by hope, onward they toiled, day after day. 
 Onward they restlessly toiled in some direction, in 
 any direction : in any direction, in that Wilderness, 
 it was relief to move onward, ever onward. 
 
 The elder boy had a knife, and had been taught 
 by his father to use it, so, in one of the halts which 
 he and his brother made, he cut from a yew tree a 
 piece of wood, of which he fashioned a rude bow, 
 and from some other wood, equally rude arrows. 
 Provided with bow and arrows, he now managed 
 every day to shoot some small birds for food for 
 himself and his brother. They had no means of 
 making a fire and cooking the birds, but devoured 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 235 
 
 them raw, and were glad to get them, hunger not 
 being dainty. After this addition to their food, they 
 were better able to endure the fatigue of their daily 
 tramp, and they went forward with lighter spirits. 
 
 They had thus, for three summer months, wan 
 dered through the Forest, when, one beautiful after 
 noon, they came within sight of a great sheet of 
 water, whose shores, as far as they could see to the 
 right and to the left, were bounded by wooded hills, 
 which, in the distance, faded off almost to nothing, 
 and there were joined by a long silvery line where 
 sky and water met. Far away, between the spot on 
 which they stood and the silvery line that met the 
 sky, lay pretty tufted islets, so covered with autumnal 
 foliage, that they looked like nosegays floating amidst 
 the shimmering waters. The boys, of course, did 
 not know it, but they were standing on the shores of 
 the vast inland sea of fresh water, which we now call 
 Lake Superior. They, who had never before seen 
 any body of water larger than a river, were so aston 
 ished and delighted at the sight of the lake, that 
 they gave a shout, and ran down to a pebbly beach, 
 and scooped up the water in the palms of their hands, 
 and drank, and then laved their hot and weary feet 
 and ankles. The cool water and the scene appeared 
 to them to spread a heavenly comfort through every 
 pore of their fevered frames. 
 
236 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 Satisfied at last with wading to and fro, enjoying 
 the delicious coolness of the water, the younger 
 brother went ashore, where, picking up his brother s 
 bow and arrows, which had been thrown down on 
 the beach, he amused liimself by lying on his back 
 and shooting upward, and fancying that he could 
 shoot into a cloud. The elder brother did not take 
 notice of the sport in which the younger was en 
 gaged, until a random shot dropped an arrow into 
 the water far beyond him. He called to his brother 
 to stop shooting, and unwilling to lose one of his 
 precious arrows, upon which the daily food of both 
 depended, waded into the deep water to recover it. 
 He had advanced into the water until it was nearly 
 up to his armpits, and was reaching forward to pick 
 up the arrow, when a canoe, which had previously 
 been invisible, darted rapidly towards him, and an old 
 man sitting in it, seized him, and dragged him aboard, 
 the canoe still darting onward. The astounded boy, 
 observing that it was an old man that had captured 
 him, turned appealingly, and said, " Grandfather, I 
 will go with you with pleasure, if you will take my 
 little brother too. If I leave him, he will perish 
 with hunger." The old man laughed a hard, cruel 
 laugh, as, uttering the words, CHEMAUN POLL, and 
 giving the canoe a slap, it swept through the waters 
 towards the centre of the lake ; the beach on which 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 231 
 
 the little boy had been left, sinking at once to the 
 sight, and a lofty island in mid-lake rising into view. 
 The canoe touched the shore gently, as though of its 
 own accord, and Mishosha, the wicked Magician of the 
 Lake, for it was he, rudely ordered the boy to step 
 out and walk up to the lodge which he saw on the 
 summit of the island. The boy quietly obeyed, and 
 found himself in the presence of two little girls of 
 about the ages of himself and his brother. They, like 
 himself, were captives. So far from appearing glad 
 to see the new-comer, they remained speechless, in 
 dread of what might be about to befall him, and re 
 minded of their own sad fate, by witnessing another 
 proof of the Magician s wickedness and power. 
 While the three stood mutely regarding each other, 
 Mishosha suddenly appeared, and addressing the 
 elder of the girls, said: "I have brought you a 
 young scamp who shall be your husband when you 
 are old enough to marry. Take him to one of the 
 vacant lodges, where he can make his home until the 
 happy day." The girl started to obey, but in her 
 haste to escape from the hated presence of the Magi 
 cian, forgot the boy. Then turning quickly, she 
 beckoned to him to follow, as the old Magician, 
 delighted at observing the fear that he inspired, 
 entered his lodge, laughing his hard, cruel laugh, 
 
 Panigwun, that is our hero s name, conducted 
 21 
 
238 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 by the elder girl, and accompanied by the younger 
 one, who was her sister, walked for some distance 
 along the top of the hill which formed the crest of 
 the island, and soon came in sight of a little cluster 
 of vacant lodges near the edge of a grove. The 
 elder girl told him that he might take any one of the 
 lodges that he preferred ; but just as he chose a cer 
 tain one, and was about to enter it, she hurriedly drag 
 ged him away, exclaiming, " No, no, not there ; not 
 there!" " Why not ?" asked Panigwun. " Oh, never 
 mind, don t ask me 1" replied the girl. " Well, it is 
 all the same to me which I take," said Panigwun; "so 
 if you had rather that I should not take that, I will 
 take this." But again the girl hurriedly dragged him 
 away from the door of the lodge which he had 
 chosen, begging him not to take it. " Well," said 
 Panigwun, "I will go wherever you please; you may 
 choose a lodge for me ; but now I am determined to 
 know why you did not let me take either of the two 
 lodges which / chose." The girl looked in aifright- 
 ened way over her shoulder, and said quickly, "Take 
 the lodge opposite." " I will," said Panigwun ; u but 
 why not the others f The girl again glanced in a 
 frightened way over her shoulder, and then turning 
 towards him, whispered: " Because those who last oc 
 cupied them never returned from their first excursion 
 in the canoe." Without waiting to see what effect 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 239 
 
 her communication would have upon Panigwun, she 
 fled through an opening in the bushes, calling to her 
 sister to follow. 
 
 Hardly had Panigwun been left to himself, when 
 he threw himself upon the ground, and began to be 
 wail, not his own unhappy fate, but that of his poor 
 little brother, left alone on the shore of the lake. 
 Night came on, and midnight approached, and still 
 he lay on the ground, bewailing the loss of his poor 
 little brother. 
 
 "O little brother," he cried aloud; "did you not 
 see that I was carried away against my will, or 
 do you perhaps think that I, as well as father and 
 mother, have deserted you! O little brother, do not 
 think that; I would die for you, indeed, indeed I 
 would I" 
 
 Panigwun had scarcely uttered these words, in a 
 heart-rending tone of voice, when he heard himself 
 gently called, and by the starlight saw a slight female 
 figure standing in the doorway of the lodge. Eising, 
 he advanced towards the figure, which retired through 
 the doorway, and stood motionless outside. Panig 
 wun saw, then, that it was the elder of the two captive 
 girls. " Hist !" said she, placing her forefinger on her 
 lips; " a voice above a whisper rouses Mishosha from 
 his sleep. A whisper does not wake him, for the 
 leaves of the Forest talk in whispers. He sleeps. 
 
240 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 The magic boat lies at the foot of the rocks where 
 you landed. Enter it, and striking it on the side, 
 pronounce the words CHEMAUN POLL, and it will 
 bear you whither you will. Eelieve your brother s 
 wants, but return as soon as you can, or I shall be 
 lost for trying to aid you." The young girl pointed 
 to two earthen jars at her feet, and waving her 
 hand in sign of encouragement and farewell, dis 
 appeared through the opening in the bushes through 
 which she had passed before. 
 
 Panigwun, taking the jars under his arms, walked 
 rapidly to the foot of the rocks, and entering the 
 canoe, struck it on the side, pronounced the words 
 CHEMAUN POLL, and willed himself at the beach 
 where he had left his little brother. At once the 
 canoe swept rapidly away, the island sank from 
 sight, and the beach rose into view. The canoe 
 gently came to land, and Panigwun stepped out, and 
 walked to the place where he had last seen his 
 brother. The little boy was not there; but a few 
 paces farther back from shore, close against a bluff, 
 he was found lying, coiled up, asleep. Panigwun, 
 without arousing him, entered the Forest, and cut six 
 straight little saplings. Four of them he pointed, 
 and thrust, in the form of a square, into the ground 
 about the spot on which his brother lay. He then 
 split their tops, and placed crosswise, in the clefts, the 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 241 
 
 two other saplings, properly trimmed for the purpose. 
 Eeturning to the Forest, he cut some underbrush and 
 dry fern, and carrying two or three armfuls of them 
 to the spot where his brother lay, spread them on the 
 top of the little framework of saplings, making a 
 thick roof, to which he gave a sharp slant by 
 thrusting farther into the ground two of the upright 
 saplings. 
 
 Whatever temptation Panigwun may have felt to 
 waken his brother, and with him fly into the Wilder 
 ness, it lasted but a moment. He shrank at once 
 from putting in peril the pretty little maiden who 
 had so generously come to his assistance. He did 
 not falter, but, after accomplishing the task for which 
 he had come, and which occupied him only a few 
 minutes, he gently deposited, close to his brother, 
 under the shelter, the jars of food with which he 
 had been provided, and stooping and tenderly kissing 
 him, walked to the beach, and getting into the canoe, 
 slapped it on the side, pronouncing, as before, the 
 magic words, CHEMAUN POLL. Instantly, as before, 
 the canoe swept rapidly away, the beach sank to his 
 sight, and the lofty island of Mishosha rose into view. 
 The canoe came to shore, and Panigwun, landing, 
 left it as he had found it, and walked quickly to his 
 lodge, which he reached just in time to escape a 
 coining storm, for the sky was black with thunder- 
 
 21* 
 
242 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 clouds. As he approached the door of the lodge, he 
 saw a girlish form flit by, and make a sign, as though 
 to ask whether all were well. Panigwun replying by 
 a sign to her, the figure vanished through the opening 
 in the bushes. 
 
 Panigwun had thrown himself down to rest, and 
 his eyes were beginning to close heavily with sleep, 
 when he was awakened by a rustle, and saw by the 
 dim light a man standing in the doorway. A flash 
 of lightning played for an instant through the sky, 
 and revealed the face and figure of Mishosha. By 
 that flash, although of but an instant, Panigwun 
 perceived that a fearful change was wrought in the 
 old Magician. The usual sneer had left his face, 
 and his expression seemed wild with terror. " Panig 
 wun," said a voice which he could hardly recognize 
 as that of the Magician, u Panigwun, ah ! this is a 
 fearful night ! The Storm King, more powerful 
 than I, rides abroad ! Ah, there comes the lightning! 
 and there hark ! the thunder, the Storm King s 
 voice ! What was I going to say? Ah, yes I had a 
 frightful dream just now. But, tell me was I not 
 kind to you to-day ? What I did was jest ha, ha ! 
 You shall have your brother. I took you but in jest ! 
 What was I going to say? Oh, yes I dreamt I 
 dreamt oh that lightning ! I dreamt, I say, in 
 my sleep I always hear the whispering of the Forest 
 
M1SHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 243 
 
 leaves ; I do not mind it ; I rather like it ; I know 
 that what they have to say is harmless, and they lull 
 me to a deeper rest. The Forest leaves, I say, were 
 gently whispering to each other, and I dreamt, I 
 dreamt that you had risen, and going to the shore, 
 had taken my canoe, and left me here forever. I 
 struggled to rouse myself, but in my dream, from 
 which I could not rouse, I heard above the whis 
 pering of the leaves, a giant Oak in his dying 
 agony, buffet the air, toss his arms aloft, and with 
 one deep groan, fall dead in the Forest. Then I 
 awoke, and looked without. The rack was scudding 
 through the sky, but lower down, the great massed 
 thunder-clouds sent each to each forked lightnings 
 that seemed all moving onward intent on me. I fled 
 hither to have the solace of your company before 
 the storm should burst, and to prove my dream un 
 true. I knew it could not be you must have 
 seen I took you but in jest. With to-morrow s 
 dawn we will go to, the mainland and bring hither 
 your little brother. I am not a bad man ah 
 me, that lightning ! What said I ? I mean I am 
 not worse than some. See, see, hark! oh I shall 
 die!" 
 
 At this moment the storm burst in fury over the 
 lodge, and the wretched Mishosha, who, during his 
 discourse, had gradually entered, threw himself 
 
244 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 cowering on the ground, quivering in every limb, 
 and chattering with terror. The lurid lightning- 
 flashes, and the violent thunder-peals, followed each 
 other in such quick succession, that the interior of 
 the lodge was bright as day, and the ground trembled 
 as in an earthquake. 
 
 Panigwun, leaning on his elbow, and resting his 
 head on the palm of his hand, had quietly listened 
 to and as calmly regarded the old Magician. He 
 still remained in the same attitude, calmly regarding 
 his prostrate foe, who, in his abject terror, lay in a 
 heap, with his hands clapped over his eyes and ears, 
 to exclude the brightness of the lightning and the 
 roar of the thunder. If any feeling of exultation 
 entered his mind, it was not derived from the triumph 
 of revenge, but from the hope that all could not be lost 
 if he had to deal with such a craven. 
 
 The storm proved as short-lived as violent ; the 
 flashes of lightning became less and less frequent and 
 brilliant ; and the roar of the thunder rolled fitfully 
 away into the distance. Mishosha looked up, assumed 
 a sitting posture, and listened attentively. Having 
 almost satisfied himself that the storm was over, he 
 rose and walked to the door of the lodge, and glanced 
 at the heavens. The Moon was beginning to shed a 
 mild radiance from behind the quickly flying and 
 dispersing clouds. In a few minutes the sky became 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 245 
 
 as serene and bright as though it had never known a 
 cloud, and the Moon beamed with a silvery flood of 
 light upon the island and the lake. Mishosha, 
 instead of returning to the lodge, put his head 
 through the doorway, and Panigwun could see that 
 the old sneer had returned to his face. " Were you 
 frightened," said the old voice, that had departed for 
 a while "I love a jest! It was all a jest dream 
 and all ! Let me catch you at my canoe 1 Ha, ha, 
 ha I all a jest! we will go for your brother when 
 we have nothing better to do I" Panigwun could 
 hear the old wretch walking away, laughing and 
 speaking so that the sound should reach his ears, 
 "Ha, ha, ha! only a jest. I wanted to frighten 
 him! ha, ha, ha!" 
 
 Next morning, Mishosha said rudely to the boy : 
 " I am going to an island to get gulls eggs. You 
 will go with me." 
 
 In Panigwun s memory still dwelt what the little 
 maiden had exelaimed on the previous evening, when 
 by Mishosha s orders she had accompanied him to 
 let him choose a lodge for his dwelling. Although 
 he had seen her again, late at night, the affair 
 that he then had in hand was too pressing to allow 
 him to ask her to be more explicit, and Misho 
 sha now evidently watched them with the intention 
 of preventing them from holding communication 
 
246 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 with each other. Panigwun therefore revolved in 
 his mind, to no very definite purpose, what had been 
 said to him by the little maiden. What was clear, 
 however, was that it was a matter of life and death to 
 venture with Mishosha on an expedition in the canoe. 
 The boy, however, after having reached this conclu 
 sion, determined that, as heretofore, come weal come 
 woe, he would bear himself as became a brave lad. 
 So, instead of replying as Mishosha had expected, he 
 turned upon him with unexpected hardihood, and 
 said: " And will you not also fulfil your promise to 
 take me to the beach for my little brother ?" Mis 
 hosha laughed his hard, cruel laugh, as he replied : 
 " I told you it was all a jest dream and all. My 
 real promise is to take you when we have nothing 
 better to do, and we have something better to-day." 
 
 The Magician and the boy entered the magic 
 canoe, which as usual received a slap on the side, 
 accompanied by the words CHEMAUN POLL, and 
 down Mishosha s island sank, and the other island 
 rose to view. The hillsides of the island to which 
 they went were so covered with gulls nests filled 
 with eggs, that, a little way off, they looked as though 
 they had been sprinkled with glossy pebbles. " Go 
 ashore, my son," said Mishosha to Panigwun, bringing 
 the canoe s bow to land, "and gather as many eggs as 
 you can carry." Panigwun unsuspectingly stepped 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 247 
 
 out of the canoe, but no sooner had he done so, than 
 Mishosha, shoving it off from shore, shouted in a 
 loud voice to the thousands of gulls dotting the 
 island and the waters around about, " Long have I 
 purposed making you an offering : seize and devour 
 the victim." He slapped the canoe, and in an instant 
 disappeared. 
 
 The birds rose in a cloud over Panigwun, and 
 hovering there for a moment, were about to swoop 
 upon him, when he seized one that was in advance, 
 killed it with a stroke of his knife, and hanging it on 
 his breast, and flourishing his knife aloft, cried out, 
 " Thus will I serve all that dare approach. Man is 
 the lord of the brute creation : ye are his slaves. 
 Come hither, lend me your wings, and bear me 
 whence I came." 
 
 The cloud of birds settled gently on the ground, 
 and rising, bore Panigwun to the Magician s island. 
 Mishosha, who did not see his arrival, and was far 
 enough from expecting his return, was astounded at 
 seeing him, but remained silent, muttering to himself: 
 " Next time you shall not escape me." Accordingly, 
 on the following day, he said to the boy : " To-day I 
 am going to take you to an island covered all over 
 with precious stones, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and 
 every other sort, of which you can gather as many 
 as you please. Yesterday you were unlucky : I did 
 
248 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 not miss you from the canoe until I returned ; but 
 just as I was about to start back for you, you came 
 and saved me the trouble of going. To-day I shall 
 be on my guard against any mistake of the kind." 
 Panigwun deigned no other reply than, " Will you 
 not also take me to my poor little brother, as you 
 promised." " Oh yes !" said Mishosha ; " when we 
 have nothing better to do, and we have something 
 better to-day." 
 
 They soon landed at the island of which Misho 
 sha had spoken, and which, as he had truly said, was 
 covered with precious stones. It fairly sparkled with 
 diamonds, rubies, emeralds, amethysts, opals, sap 
 phires, and every other sort of gem. " Go ashore, 
 my son," said Mishosha, " and take the biggest load 
 of precious stones that you can carry. This time I 
 will be sure not to be absent-minded and leave you." 
 
 Panigwun had not the slightest faith in the word 
 of the old Magician, but relying on the Guardian 
 Spirit that had so long watched over and protected 
 him, boldly stepped ashore. The island on which 
 he found himself was a long narrow ledge of rock 
 rising to a ridge, and he had much ado to keep his 
 footing on the steep and slippery sides. However, 
 he at last succeeded in getting a good foothold, and 
 after giving one glance at the canoe, set to work to 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 249 
 
 fill his pockets with all the precious gems within 
 reach. The treacherous Mishosha waited until he 
 saw the boy thus planted, with his legs far apart, and 
 barely able to maintain his position on the steep and 
 slippery ledge, when he shoved the canoe from shore, 
 and cried in a loud voice: "Rise, King of the 
 Fishes. To you I have long wished to make an of 
 fering : accept the victim. 7 Thus saying he slap 
 ped the canoe, pronouncing the magic words, and 
 swept on the instant out of sight. 
 
 A huge Pike, with a head a quarter of the 
 length of its body, and with frightful rows of saw- 
 like teeth, rose to the surface of the lake, swam 
 towards shore, and thrust its snout up on the rocky 
 ledge on one side of Panigwun, easting a sidelong 
 glance at him, as at a tidbit which it gave him satis 
 faction to look at before swallowing. But Panig- 
 wun, nothing daunted at this appalling sight, turned 
 around, and settling himself firmly in the reverse 
 position to that which he had occupied, drew his 
 knife, and giving a glance of defiance at the Pike, 
 said with determination ; " Man is the lord of the 
 brute creation : ye are his slaves. Come hither and 
 take me on your back and transport me whence I 
 came." The Pike withdrew its head from the 
 ledge, and swarn to Panigwun, who stepped lightly 
 22 
 
250 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 upon its back, and in a few minutes was transported 
 to the island of Mishosha. 
 
 Mishosha, who did not see Panigwun land, and 
 who was just as far as before from expecting his 
 return, was if possible even more astounded than 
 before at seeing him, but, as before, he remained 
 silent, muttering to himself: " Next time you cannot 
 escape me." On the following morning he coolly 
 said to Panigwun : " So, I forgot you again, did I ? 
 Ah, well, you see I am getting old and losing my 
 memory. It shall not happen to-day : this morn 
 ing we will go to an island where I know there 
 is an Eagle s nest, and we will capture the young 
 birds." Panigwun saw perfectly well that Mishosha 
 knew that he knew his treachery, so he replied at 
 once, abruptly, without trying in the least to dis 
 guise the scorn that he felt : u Will you not go for 
 my brother, this morning ?" Mishosha, in his turn 
 throwing off all disguise, laughed that hard, cruel 
 laugh of his, and then sneered out "No!" 
 
 This time, on landing, Mishosha also landed. He 
 led the way to the centre of the island, which was 
 covered with a growth of tall pines, amidst which 
 grew a pine that overtopped all the rest. As soon 
 as they had reached this very tall pine, on which 
 was an Eagle s nest, Mishosha said to Panigwun, 
 " Climb the tree and toss the Eaglets out of the nest, 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 251 
 
 and I will catch them when they reach the ground." 
 Panigwun, knowing that it would be folly to at 
 tempt to disobey, commended himself to the care of 
 his Guardian Spirit, and clasping the tree vigorously, 
 climbed the trunk and disappeared among the 
 branches. He had come within a few feet of the 
 nest, and he could see the heads of the^ fledglings, 
 when he heard Mishosha shout: "Kise, Pine; stretch 
 upward to the skies. Come, ye Eagles, ye thunder- 
 gods; I owe you an offering; bury your talons in 
 this rash boy and tear him to pieces for your young." 
 So saying he retreated towards the canoe. 
 
 Instantly Panigwun felt the pine shoot upward 
 under his feet. To his astonished sight the vault of 
 heaven grew like indigo, and the earth paled to a 
 sickly green. The pine was drawing out like a 
 huge telescope, stretching higher and higher sky 
 ward. The Eagles from their eyrie, and from neigh 
 boring ones, soared threateningly around, ready to 
 swoop upon and tear him to pieces. But the 
 brave boy, throwing his left arm around a branch, 
 drew with his right hand his knife, and with a single 
 blow beheaded the most daring Eagle. " Man," 
 cried he, " is the lord of the brute creation : ye are 
 his slaves. The brave respect the brave : for both 
 reasons, I am your master. Come hither and lend 
 me your wings to transport me whence I came." 
 
252 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 The Eagles swooping, gently raised Panigwun into 
 the air, and bore him to the island of Mishosha. As 
 they passed over the lake, Panigwun, looking down 
 ward, saw the old Magician asleep in his canoe on 
 the broad expanse of waters. 
 
 Mishosha was more astounded than ever, when, 
 on reaching the island, he found Panigwun there 
 and unhurt. The crafty old man now began to sus 
 pect what was the truth, that Panigwun was under 
 the protection of some powerful Spirit, and he de 
 termined all the more to destroy him. "With this 
 savage purpose still in view, he said to Panigwun, 
 the next morning, that they would go a-hunting on 
 one of the neighboring islands. Panigwun, as usual, 
 said that he should like to go and get his brother, 
 and Mishosha answered shortly, " No." 
 
 They landed on the island where they were to 
 hunt, and set about making a lodge to protect them 
 selves from the weather while they stayed there. They 
 finished the lodge by nightfall, and then went to rest. 
 Panigwun, fatigued with his exertions, soon fell fast 
 asleep before the fire. Then the crafty old man, 
 taking one of Panigwun s leggings and one of his 
 moccasins, which were hung up to dry, threw them 
 into the fire. Then, after causing a deep snow to fall 
 all over the island, he quietly went to sleep. When 
 Panigwun, feeling chilled to the bone, awoke early 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 253 
 
 in the morning, and looked outdoors, and saw that 
 snow had fallen during the night, he groped around 
 for his leggings and moccasins. Just at this mo 
 ment the old Magician awoke, and, seeing what 
 Panigwun was about, said, "What are you doing? 
 Are you looking for your other legging and moc 
 casin ? Ah, I m afraid that they are lost ! This is 
 the month during which fire attracts, and I m afraid 
 they Ve been drawn into the fire." 
 
 Panigwun, of course, knew perfectly well that 
 the old man had played him false again, but he dis 
 sembled, and having put on his remaining moccasin 
 and legging, sat down in front of the fire, and 
 drawing his hood over his head and face, thus com 
 muned with himself: " The cruel old wretch intends 
 to freeze me to death on the long hunt, but surely I 
 should not have been protected thus far, to be de 
 serted now. I will have faith in the Spirit that has 
 heretofore guided me." In a few minutes he threw 
 off his hood, and stooping over the fire, took up a 
 brand, one end of which had been burned to char 
 coal, and with it blackened himself where his leg 
 ging and moccasin should have protected him. 
 
 As soon as the Sun had fairly risen, Mishosha 
 was on foot and proposing that the hunt should 
 begin. Panigwun did not show the least reluctance, 
 but suffered himself to be led all day, over hill and 
 
 22* 
 
254 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 dale, midleg deep in snow. Towards evening, Mi- 
 shosha, despairing of benumbing him with cold, and 
 leaving him to perish in the snow, returned to the 
 lodge. Getting aboard the canoe, they at once 
 reached the Magician s island, where Mishosha, with 
 out saying a word, sullenly retired to his lodge. 
 
 Panigwun, emboldened by his numerous suc 
 cesses in thwarting the old Magician, especially by 
 the last one, now determined that, as his life had 
 been so often attempted, he would attempt that of 
 Mishosha. He might thus be able to rescue his 
 brother, and rid the world of a hateful monster. 
 Accordingly, on the very next day, he said to Mi 
 shosha : " I have willingly followed you on every 
 expedition, and you have constantly promised me 
 that you would take me to see my little brother. 
 You must refuse me no longer; I want to bring 
 him over to our island, or else he will perish." 
 Mishosha hesitated for a moment, and then, reflect 
 ing that, by granting Panigwun s request, he might 
 regain his confidence, replied that he would go with 
 pleasure. 
 
 Great was his astonishment, on landing at the 
 beach, at seeing that the little boy had a shelter of 
 boughs, and that scraps of food lay around. Panig 
 wun, affectionately greeting his brother, whispered 
 something in his ear, and stepped with him into the 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 255 
 
 canoe, and before Mishosha suspected his design, 
 slapped it on the side, and, saying CHEMAUN POLL, 
 was borne away to the Magician s island, leaving 
 Mishosha behind. 
 
 When he reached the island and told the young 
 girls what he had done, the elder dismayed him by 
 informing him that he was by no means safe, for 
 the canoe would not submit to be fastened, and so 
 great was its master s power over it, that were he 
 miles away, as he was, all he had to do was to pro 
 nounce the magic words CHEMAUN POLL, and will it 
 to come to him, and it would obey. So Panigwun, 
 not seeing what else to do, sat on the edge of the 
 rocks on shore, holding fast the bow of the canoe. 
 Night coming on, and sleep finally overpowering 
 him, his hold relaxed and slipped, and the canoe dis 
 appeared in the direction of the mainland. Panig 
 wun awoke only to see the scowling face of the 
 Magician, who stood on the rocks beside him, and 
 said " Begone." 
 
 This trick of Panigwun s gave Mishosha a whole 
 some fear of him ; but he dissembled, and when, a 
 few days afterward, Panigwun, again taking the 
 lead, said : " Our last hunt pleased me so much that 
 I know you will not refuse to take me on another," 
 the old man consented, thinking to himself, " Panig 
 wun has some other plot, but now surely I shall 
 
256 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 manage to destroy this presumptuous lad, who has 
 foiled me so often." They went to the island on 
 which they had hunted before, and took up their 
 quarters in the lodge, which was still standing. At 
 night Panigwun was too wary to take off his mocca 
 sins and leggings, but pulling his hood over his head 
 and face, feigned sleep, and waited until he heard the 
 Magician snore. He then took both of the Magi 
 cian s moccasins and leggings and threw them into 
 the blaze, where they were immediately burnt to 
 ashes. Pulling his hood again over his head and 
 face, he besought the Spirit that protected him, to 
 cause a heavy fall of snow, twice as deep as the one 
 in which his life had come so near being lost. 
 
 By sunrise the old Magician woke up, quaking 
 with cold, and, glancing outdoors, saw the snow, and 
 began to grope around for his moccasins and leg 
 gings. Not finding them, he glanced suspiciously at 
 Panigwun, who was watching him. Panigwun, seeing 
 the meaning of the glance, said carelessly, " This is 
 the month, you know, in which fire attracts, and 
 your moccasins and leggings have been drawn into 
 it." Mishosha now trembled and quaked with fear; 
 but being furious, arid also confident in his magic 
 powers, he started on the hunt, hoping that some 
 thing would occur to enable him to wreak ven 
 geance on Panigwun. Carried away by his fury, 
 
MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE. 257 
 
 he followed the boy far from shore, but all of a sud 
 den felt that he had gone too far to retreat. Terror- 
 stricken, he turned to retrace his steps. It was too 
 late ; he plunged deeper and deeper into the snow, 
 and felt himself growing more and more benumbed 
 with cold. An icy chill crept steadily up from his 
 feet into his legs, from his legs into his body, from 
 his body into the crown of his head, where he thought 
 he could feel the hair bristling. Onward he staggered, 
 onward towards shore ; but just as he reached it, he 
 floundered into a deep hole full of snow. Unable 
 to get out, his body swayed to and fro, and his arms 
 tossed wildly about. Another icy chill stole up from 
 his feet into his legs, from his legs into his body, 
 from his body into the crown of his head, and his 
 hair seemed like icicles. In an instant the human 
 life departed ; the plumes on his brow spread into 
 branches ; his body became a rugged trunk of bark ; 
 his feet and toes plunged in roots and rootlets through 
 the soil ; and what had been Mishosha, became a tall 
 dark Sycamore bent over the waters of the lake. 
 
 Panigwun leaped into the magic canoe and re 
 gained the island. There, for many, many years, he 
 and his brother and the two young girls dwelt with 
 out being molested. Possessed of the magic canoe, 
 the boys could pass in an instant to any part of the 
 shores of the great lake, or of its islands, and shoot 
 
258 AMERICAN WONDERLAND. 
 
 deer and gather eggs for the subsistence of all. They 
 by chance soon afterward heard of their long-lost 
 father, and learned his pitiful story, and having 
 sought for and found him, contrived by their devo 
 tion to soothe his declining years. Time passed, and 
 they married the two little maidens, and reared two 
 happy families, which, with their father, they eventu 
 ally transported to the mainland. There, forming 
 a settlement, they gathered around them a powerful 
 tribe, of which Panigwun, by right of the power 
 that he possessed through the magic canoe, as well 
 as by right of his goodness and prowess, became the 
 revered Chief, to whom the people looked up as to a 
 superior being. 
 

 20* 
 
 55 
 
YB 2051