They had met at the usual place one evening, discoursing of these things, and lamenting that two so fond and affectionate should be doomed to live apart, when a slight noise at the shoulder of the maiden caused her to turn her head. Terror filled her bosom when she found that it proceeded from a little striped man, scarcely higher than a tall boy of ten seasons. He wore around his neck a string of glittering shells, and his hair, green as ooze, was curiously woven with the long weeds which are found growing upon the rocks at the bottom of the Great Lake. His hands and feet were shaped like the fins of fish, and his head was that of a great haddock. His body was covered with scales like any other scaly fish; indeed, except that he walked erect like a human being, and had two legs, and two arms, and that his eyes were not placed as the eyes of fish are, he might well have been taken for a fish of a kind not before known. Having surveyed the lovers for a short time in silence, he demanded "why they were so gloomy and downcast."

The bashfulness of the maiden prevented her replying, but the Chief of the Trouts answered that "they loved each other, and wished to live together, but that the maiden could not exist in his element, nor he in her's; and hence it appeared they were never to know the joys which are tasted by those who have their dwelling in one cabin."

"Be not grieved nor hopeless," answered the Spirit; "the impediments can be removed. I am the genius that presides over the fishes, and was invested at the beginning with power to procure for them all the enjoyments they are susceptible of tasting. I cannot transform a trout into a man—that must be effected by a spirit of the earth—but I can work the transformation of a man into a trout—under my charm the Marshpee maiden shall become a beautiful fish of the same species with the chief."

With that he bade Awashanks follow him into the river. When they had waded in to a considerable depth, he took up a handful of water and threw it upon the head of the maiden, pronouncing certain words of which none but himself knew the meaning. Immediately a change commenced upon her, attended with such pain and distress that the very air resounded with her cries. Her body became in a few moments covered with scales; her ears, and nose, and chin, and arms, disappeared, and her two legs became joined, forming that part of a fish which is called the tail—she became a complete trout. Having fully accomplished the task of transformation, the Genius of the Fishes delivered her to the Chief of the Trouts. The pair were soon observed gliding side by side, very lovingly, into the deep and quiet waters. But, though she had become a trout, she did not forget the land of her birth. Every season, on the same night as that upon which her disappearance from the tribe had been wrought, there would be seen two trouts, of a magnitude surpassing fifty-fold any ever caught by the Marshpees, busily employed in ploughing out the brook. They continued the labour or sport, whichever it may be called, till the pale-faces came to the country, when, deeming themselves in danger from a people who paid no reverence to the spirits of the land, they bade adieu for ever to Coatuit, or the Brook of the Great Trout.



THE SPIRITS OF VAPOUR.

There was, among the Knisteneaux, in the days that are past, a very wise chief, who was also the greatest medicine-man that ever dwelt in the nation. He knew all the herbs, and plants, and roots, and barks, which were good for the curing of diseases: and, better still, the words, and charms, and prayers, and ceremonies, without which they were not effective. He could call down rain from the clouds, and foretell the approach of storms, and hail, and tempests, beyond any man that ever lived in the nation. Had not his worship of the Ki-jai Manitou, or Great Spirit, been sincere, frequent, and fervent, these things had not been; he would have found his prayers unheard, or unheeded, or unanswered—he would have seen his skill baffled, and his charms and medicines impotent and ineffective. But he was beloved by the Great Spirit, and thence came his wisdom, and power, and strength, and success; and thence, my brother knows—for he is himself a wise priest and a cunning man—come the wisdom, and strength, and power, and success, of all men, whether white like him, or red like myself.

But, if this good and prudent priest of the Knisteneaux was beloved by the Great Spirit, he was equally hated by the Matchi Manitou, or Spirit of Evil. This bad being, who is the opposite to him that sends good gifts to the Knisteneaux, delights in mischief, and is best pleased when he has wrought injury or distress to mankind, and brought upon them ruin and dismay, hunger, nakedness, want, sickness, pain, disgrace, seeing how much Makusue, for that was the name of the priest, interfered with his schemes of testifying his hatred to men, was always making him feel the weight of his vengeance, and thwarting his plans for the benefit of the nation by every means in his power. If Makusue went to gather Moscharnewatchar[A], he was sure to find the Evil Spirit perched near, trying to frighten him away; if he went to dig the Ehawshoga[B], his enemy had certainly caused the earth to freeze, that he might be defeated of his object. If Makusue wished to cross the lake, the wind was sure to blow violently the moment he entered his canoe, and rain to drench him before he left it. If he sought an opportunity to surprise the Coppermines, the Evil Spirit flew with the speed of a loon before a high wind to apprise them of his intentions. Equally great was the hatred of Makusue for the Evil Spirit. If he found any one disposed to worship him, he was indefatigable in his endeavours to detach him from him. He never failed to make sport and derision of him when he was raging, nor to shout and halloo after him when he saw him flying over, nor to set the dogs upon him, when he was prowling about the village at midnight. So there was a bitter warfare kindled between the Matchi Manitou and the good priest, and each did the other all the harm he could. Both grinned at each other whenever they met, like a couple of cross dogs who have found a bone, or a woman at her husband who brings a younger wife to supplant her in place and affection.

[Footnote A: Mos-char-ne-wat-char—"It causes heat and cold"—Indian balsam, said to be one of the most valuable articles belonging to the Indian class of remedies. They give an infusion of it in colds, coughs, asthmas, and consumptions.]

[Footnote B: Ehawshoga—"Bite the mouth"—Indian turnip, another of their remedies.]

But, at length, the success of Makusue in drawing away worshippers from his enemy became so great, that the latter feared the utter dis-peopling of his Hunting-Grounds, or Land of Wicked Souls. To him the greatest enjoyment was that of tormenting the spirits of men, and this enjoyment, if Makusue continued his course of success, he was likely to be deprived of. So he went to the Great Spirit and spoke to him thus:—

"When we made man, did we not agree that I should take the souls of the wicked, and thou those of the good?"

"We agreed that thou shouldst take the souls of the wicked, and I the souls of the good," answered the Great Spirit. "And wilt thou say that the agreement has not been kept?"

"Thou hast not broken it, nor have I, and yet it is broken."

"In what way, and by whom then, is it broken?"

"By Makusue, the priest and chief of the Knisteneaux."

"What has Makusue done?"

"Baffled and thwarted me in every pursuit: if one proposes to offer me sacrifice, along comes Makusue and extinguishes the fire. There is death written on the face of another, but Makusue speaks powerful words over the mastinjay[A], the patient drinks it, gets well, and I am the loser. Thus I am deprived of the pleasing occupation of tormenting the wicked. There is nobody dies now that belongs to me."

[Footnote A: Dittany, used by the Indians as a remedy for various diseases.]

"What wouldst thou have me do?" demanded the Great Spirit. "Makusue is a good servant, and a very honest priest. I cannot allow him to be harmed. But that thou mayst not altogether want business, I will allow thee to torment, for three suns and three sleeps, the souls of all the Knisteneaux that belong to me—the souls of the wicked remain thine. But thou shalt kindle the flames to burn them in the low and marshy grounds only."

"It is well," answered the Evil Spirit. "I will see that the fire shall be kindled in the low and marshy grounds only."

So the Evil Spirit, much pleased with his bargain, returned to the land of the Knisteneaux to watch for the souls of their dead, and the Great Spirit winged his way back to the Mountain of Thunder.

When it was told Makusue of the agreement which the Great Spirit had made with the Spirit of Evil, grief for his people filled the heart of the good priest. At nightfall he repaired to the hill, with olay upon his hair, and addressed his master thus:

"I have served thee long, and thou didst say faithfully, yet thou hast given the souls of my people that I have brought to thee into the hands of the Evil Spirit, to be tormented for three suns and three sleeps."

"I know that I have done this," answered the Master. "Is it not well!"

"Thou canst not do otherwise than well," answered the priest; "and yet why should those be punished, even for so short a period, whom thou hast deemed worthy to live in the Happy Hunting-Grounds for ever after?"

"What thou sayest has reason with it, Makusue," answered the Great Spirit. "It was not well advised in me to grant so great a favour to the Matchi Manitou. But it is said, and cannot be recalled."

"But it may be evaded," answered the cunning priest.

"How?" demanded the Master.

"Thou hast told the Evil Spirit that he may torment the souls of the Knisteneaux for three suns and three sleeps, taking care to kindle the fire in the low and marshy grounds only."

"I have."

"Let the souls of the dead, as thou hast said, repair to those spots, but let them first take a form which it shall not be in the power of the Evil Spirit to torture. Let them repair thither in the form of fog or vapour."

"It is well," answered the Great Spirit. So he bade the spirit of each Knisteneau, immediately on its leaving the body, to wear for three suns and three sleeps the form of fog or mist. It was by this trick of the wise Makusue's, that the souls of our people were reprieved from the tortures which the Matchi Manitou was preparing for them. And still does the same thing continue. When the breath of a Knisteneau leaves the body, it repairs for the allotted period to the low marshy grounds, where it becomes fog and vapour. If my brother will go to one of those spots, upon either of the three days next following the death of a Knisteneau, he will see that my words are not the words of a mocking-bird, but of a man who knows that the anger of the Great Spirit will be upon him, if he does not speak the truth.



THE DEVIL OF CAPE HIGGIN.

A long time ago, before the occupation of the Island of Nope by the white people, there dwelt, upon the north side, and near its western end, a spirit or goblin—a very good-natured, peaceable, clever, old fellow, very fond of laughter and a good joke. The Indians called him Moshup, which signifies a very bad Spirit, but, when the white people came, they named him with reference to the little elbow, or promontory of land, where he had his usual residence, the Devil of Cape Higgin. There is another tradition, in which, it is said, that he once lived upon the main land, opposite Nope, and near the brook which was ploughed out by the Great Trout[A]. It was said, that Moshup came to Nope in search of some children, which had been carried away by a great bird, and finding the spot pleasant, people clever, and food abundant, concluded to take up his abode there[B].

[Footnote A: See the "Legend of Coatuit Brook," p. 307 of this vol.]

[Footnote B: See "The Legend of Moshup," v. ii, p. 261.]

Moshup, the Devil of Cape Higgin, was by no means so bad as his title implies. Faults he had, it is true, but no one is without faults. And then, compared with the vices of men, the vices of the devil sunk into mere trifles. He was a little loose in his morals, and withal, rather cross to his wife, but he made up for the latter fault by his unwearied attentions to the wives of his neighbours. He gave into very few indulgences, drank nothing stronger than water, and never ate more than a small whale, or five or six porpoises, at one meal. His greatest indulgence was in smoking the Indian weed, which he did to excess. He was moderate in his exactions from the Indians, requiring, as a tribute, only a tenth part of all the whales, grampusses, and finbacks, which might be taken by the inhabitants of the Island, together with all the porpoises caught in the Frog-Month. The evil of scarcity, so it was not occasioned by indolence, he bore with much composure. But, if a cheat were attempted to be practised upon him, by sending him the poorest fish, or if any part of his share was abstracted, if a porpoise or a halibut was hidden, or the head of a finback sunk, with a buoy attached to it, or the fin of a whale buried in the sand, he showed most terrific symptoms of wrath and anger, and never failed to make the Indians pay dearly for their roguery. But those who dwelt in his vicinity, indeed all liable to be called upon for tithes, little disposed at any time to battle with spirits and demons, paid their dues with great promptitude, and so seldom came in collision with their grim and powerful neighbour. To tell my brother the truth, it was not for their interest to quarrel with him. He was of much importance to them in many of their pursuits, and assisted them with a great deal of good advice and sound and profitable counsel. He frequently directed them to a fine school of black-fish, or bade them see whales, or man their canoes for the chase of the finback; he told them when to plant and gather in their corn, and foretold to them the approach of storms with an accuracy productive of the greatest advantages to them. He also assisted the young people in their courtships up to the time of joining hands, but this it was whispered he did from a disposition very proper to a naughty being like himself, who could not fail to find his account in multiplying human miseries, and thereby increasing the chances of their going to the dominions of Hobbamock, his master. Was any little rogue of a maiden solicited to become the wife of a youth, and her parents stood out to the time of more usquebagh, who but Moshup was called in to negociate for a less quantity? If a father said, "It shall not be," and Moshup could be prevailed on to say, "It shall be," the father was sure to find a pretext for changing his mind. If a young woman was beloved by one, and she pouted and pretended indifference, three words from Moshup were sure to make her reasonable. And, when women were much given to scolding, he had, somehow, a singular knack at taming them. Taking every circumstance into view, it will be readily concluded that he was a favourite with the Indians; indeed some of our fathers say, that he was once their grand Sachem; the greater part, however, think he was the first governor of the whites, and this I believe.

But spirits and demons, as well as the children of this world, whether white or red, are subject to changes of opinion and conduct—to many whims and phantasies. Moshup grew harsh and ill-natured as he grew older. The change was first felt in his own family, the peace of which was soon destroyed by continual strife and quarrelling. He would beat his old woman for nothing, and his children for a great deal less. He soon began to harass his subjects with new demands and querulous exactions. He now frequently demanded the half of a whale instead of a tenth, or took, without asking, the whole of a grampus or finback. Instead of contributing his aid to promote marriages, he was very diligent in preventing them; instead of healing love-quarrels, he did his best to make them irreconcileable. He broke many well-ordered matches, and soured much matrimonial bliss, set many friendly families by the ears, and created frequent wars between the different tribes of the Island. The wild ducks he frightened with terrific shouts, so that the Indian archer could no longer come near them; he cut the springes set for grouse and woodcocks—in short, he became a very troublesome and dangerous spirit. There was, however, no use in fretting; he was seated firmly on their necks, and there was no shaking him off. So the Indians bore his freaks with great patience, calmly took up with the offal of the whale, and only adopted the precaution of removing as far from him as possible. His harsh behaviour unpeopled his neighbourhood; and soon the little elbow of land, which the white people call Cape Higgin, had, for its only occupants, the Spirit Moshup and his family.

Upon the southern shore of the same Island of Nope, at a distance of ten or twelve miles from the residence of Moshup, lived, at the same period of time, Hiwassee, the proud and arbitrary Sachem of that portion of the Island which lies most exposed to the fogs of spring. He was a very rich and mighty man, had abundance of grape-vines, and a vast many ponds, well stocked with clams, oysters, perch, crabs, and wild fowl; many swamps filled with terrapins and cranberries; and much land, well adapted to the growing of maize and other good things. He was accounted the most powerful Sachem on the Island. He was, besides, on excellent terms with Moshup, and so escaped all taxes, contributions, and tenths, merely now and then making him a present of a few baskets of grapes, or a few terrapins. This Sachem had a daughter, young, and more beautiful than any maiden that had ever been seen in Nope. She was taller than Indian maidens generally are, her hair was long and glossy as the raven's, and her step very light and graceful. Then she excelled very far the women of her tribe in the exercises which belong to the other sex. None drew the bow with equal strength, or tortured the prisoner with so much ingenuity, or danced the war-dance with equal agility, or piped the war-song with lungs as efficient. I must tell my brother that, according to the tradition of our nation, the Indian females were first taught by her to introduce the crab's claw into the cartilage of the nose, and to insert the shell of a clam into the under-lip, as ornaments. She was, indeed, a beautiful creature, and understood better than any one else the art of attracting all the brave and best of the land; the love and admiration of the other sex followed her whithersoever she went. Her father's wigwam was filled with the suitors who came to solicit her love. There were the chiefs of the tribes which dwelt at Neshamoyes, Chabbaquiddic, Popannessit, Suckatasset, and many other places; warriors, famed and fearless, who asked her of the Grand Sachem in marriage. But no, she was deaf to their entreaties, laughed at all their presents of conch-shells, terrapins, and eagle's feathers, and carefully and scrupulously barred the doors of her father's wigwam against all the suitors, who, according to the Indian forms of courtship, came when the lights were extinguished and the parents were sleeping, to whisper soft tales at the side of her couch. The truth, which must be told my brother, is, that she had long before placed her affections upon a young warrior, stern to his enemies, but to her all gentleness, who dwelt at the western end of the Island, and was reckoned the favourite, some said he was the son, of the Devil of Cape Higgin. They had loved each other long, and with the truest affection(1), and all their hopes centered in a union.

But my brother knows—if he does not I will tell him—that fathers and mothers will not always permit daughters to have their own way in marriage. The proud father objected to the lover, because he had slain but three foes, and was not descended from a line of chiefs, distinguished by their wisdom or valour. What was to be done? The lovers talked the matter over and over again, and finally determined to apply to Moshup, for his aid and advice. They forthwith repaired to the usual residence of the goblin. It was a most auspicious moment; they found him in a delirium of joy. A school of whales, in a recent dark night, becoming bewildered, had foundered upon a neighbouring ledge of rocks, and a great many fine calves had been deposited at the mouth of his cave as his share. Withal a brother goblin, residing somewhere upon the main land, had sent him some excellent old tobacco; and these, with the occurrence at the happy moment of other enlivening circumstances, had wrought him up to such unusual good temper that he quite forgot his very recent determination to annoy all lovers, and promised to befriend the hapless pair. He rose from his seat, put a few hundred pounds of tobacco in his pouch, took a half-roasted grampus from the coals to pick by the way, and set off for Sanchequintacket, the place of Hiwassee's residence: the young warrior perched upon his shoulder, and the maiden, reposing on a litter formed by his arm, lay horizontally on his breast.

Moshup was no devil with wings, but he had two legs, and could use them to much advantage. So he set off at a pretty smart trot, and was very soon at the end of his journey. He found the Grand Sachem busy at a feast, but this did not prevent him from telling his errand at once. With great calmness and in perfect silence, for he was not in one of his talkative fits, he heard the maiden's father give his reasons for refusing his daughter to the lover. They were those which have been a thousand times urged before—"Poverty—poverty—low parentage—low parentage; not sufficiently known—not sufficiently celebrated."

"Is this all you have to say against the young man, you old fool?" asked Moshup. "What do you want? What must the young man have?"

"He must have a great deal of land—he must have an island," answered Hiwassee.

"Good," said Moshup, drawing a huge quantity of smoke into his mouth, and blowing it out through his nose: "follow me!"

At the time whereof I speak, the island of Nope extended to and comprehended the little island of Tuckanuck. The little island was then a part of the larger island; but once upon a time there came a great storm, the winds raged and the thunders rolled, and the storms beat upon the island, and it was disjointed and became two islands. To a high cliff, upon the eastern side of this same Tuckanuck, Moshup conducted Hiwassee, his daughter, her lover, and a great crowd of other Indians, who followed to see what wonderful feat he would perform. Being arrived, he sat down upon the ground, and commenced his charm. First he dug a great hole in the earth, into which he threw many heated stones, the while muttering many words, which no one but himself understood. Then he filled his pipe with tobacco, kindling it with the rays from a flash of lightning. When this was done, he bowed once to the rising sun, twice to the North Star, blew thrice in a conch-shell, muttered more unintelligible words, and commenced smoking at a great rate. In a few minutes it was as dark as the darkest night, and a terrible tempest arose. The thunders rolled awfully, the lightnings flashed, the rains poured down, and abundance of voices were heard in the east, puffing and blowing as of men in great labour. Presently there was a hissing sound, like that of live embers dropped into water—Moshup had emptied his pipe. There now came up a strong wind from the west, which, gradually dispersing the smoke he had created, displayed to their view a low dark something in the east. It was the promised island—the ashes from Moshup's pipe. The couple upon whom Moshup bestowed this island gave it the name of Nantucket, and such it bears at this day.

I have no more to say.

NOTE.

(1) Loved each other with the truest affection.—p. 327.

It has been the practice to accuse American Indians of great coldness of temper, and to represent them as incapable of sincere and permanent attachment. It is a mistake. It is true that on the part of the males all expressions of affection are repressed, from the belief that the display of any passion or emotion inflicts deep and indelible disgrace upon a man, especially if he is a warrior. This is the mere result of education, and proves nothing. It is certain that the females, whom the tyranny of opinion does not bind in this respect, are full of tenderness and assiduity. The story of Pocahontas is too well known to be repeated. When Mr. Nutall was with the Osages, he was near witnessing a tragical termination to a trifling dispute, from the belief of an Indian wife that harm was intended to her husband. She had been several years married to a French hunter, living with that tribe. Soon after the arrival of a trader at the Indian camp, intoxication had taken place, and a quarrel ensued between the husband of this woman and another of the French hunters. Their altercation filled her with terror, and she gave way to tears and lamentations, not doubting but that the antagonist, who was the aggressor, intended the death of her husband, as threats among Indians are the invariable preludes to fatal actions. When, at length, they began to struggle with each other, without any more ado she seized a hatchet, and would instantly have dispatched the man who fought with her husband, if she had not been prevented by the bystanders. In another instance an Omawhaw and his wife, on a solitary hunting expedition, were discovered at a distance from their temporary lodge, by a Sioux war-party. They endeavoured to escape from the enemy, but the wife was soon overtaken, struck to the ground, and subjected to the terrible operation of scalping. The husband, although at this time beyond the reach of the arrows of the Sioux, seeing his wife in their hands, immediately turned upon them, and drawing his knife, the only weapon he had, furiously rushed among them, in order to revenge her death, even with the inevitable sacrifice of his own life, but he was almost immediately dispatched, without having accomplished his heroic purpose.

When their affections have become deeply engaged, they will frequently affect insanity with a view to melt the heart of the obdurate beloved.

"A Chippewa, named Ogemans, who resided near the Dog Lake, was married to a woman called Demoya, but had conceived an affection for her sister, named Okoj, who lived in the same cabin; the latter having refused his offer to take her as a second wife, he affected insanity. His ravings were terrible; nothing could appease him but her presence; the moment he touched her hand or came near her, he was as gentle as they could wish. At one time, in the middle of a winter's night, he sprang from his couch, broke through the frail bark which formed his cabin, and escaped into the woods, howling and screaming in the wildest manner; his wife and her sister followed him, endeavouring to calm him and bring him home, but he seemed to have set all their powers at defiance. At last Okoj came near him, and the moment she laid her hand upon him, he became quite tractable. In this manner he continued for a long while, convincing all the Indians who saw him that he was possessed by a spirit, which nothing but the approach of Okoj could reduce. So deep was their conviction and her's, that she at last consented to become his wife, and never after was he troubled by a return of madness."

Another instance of a somewhat similar nature happened in the presence of the same interpreter, (Bruce). "A young Canadian had secured the affections of an Indian girl called Nisette, whose mother was a Squaw that had been converted by the missionaries; being very pious, the mother insisted that the young folks should be united by a clergyman. None being in the country at the time, they travelled to an Algonquin village, situated on the Lake of the Two Mountains, where there was a missionary. Meanwhile the Canadian's love cooled away, and by the time they reached the village he cared no more for the poor girl. Disappointed in her affections, she was observed to sicken; she became subject to fits, her intellect appeared disordered, and she was finally considered as quite insane. The only lucid intervals which she had were in the presence of her inconstant lover. Whenever he came near her, her reason would return, and she would appear the same as before. Flattered by what he deemed so strong an evidence of his influence over her, the Canadian felt a return of kindness towards her, and was finally induced to renew his attentions, which being well received, they were soon united by the clergyman. Her reason appeared to be restored, and her improving health showed that her happiness was complete. Although she never was charged with having resorted to a stratagem, our guide, who had been with her a long while, and who represented her as a modest, virtuous, and interesting girl, had always considered her insanity as assumed, with a view to work upon the feelings of her inconstant friend."

Their other affections, especially the maternal, are equally exquisite with those of civilised nations. I will relate one instance of maternal fondness, from James's Account of an Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, vol. i. p 223:—

"In the year 1814, a trader married a beautiful squaw of one of the most distinguished families in the Omawhaw nation. This match, on the part of the husband, was induced by the following circumstances. Being an active, intelligent, and enterprising man, he had introduced the American trade to the Missouri Indians, and had gained great influence amongst them by his bravery and ingenuous deportment. But he at length perceived that his influence was gradually declining, in consequence of the presence and wiles of many rival traders, to whom his enterprise had opened the way, and that his customers were gradually forsaking him.

"Thus circumstanced, in order to regain the ground he had lost, he determined to seek a matrimonial alliance with one of the most powerful families of the Omawhaws. In pursuance of this resolution, he selected a squaw whose family and friends were such as he desired. He addressed himself to her parents agreeably to the Indian custom, and informed them that he loved their daughter, that he was sorry to see her in the state of poverty common to her nation, and although he possessed a wife among the white people, yet he wished to have one also of the Omawhaw nation. If they would transfer their daughter to him in marriage, he would obligate himself to treat her kindly; and, as he had commenced a permanent trading establishment in their country, he would dwell during a portion of the year with her, and the remainder with the white people, as the nature of his occupation required. His establishment should be her home, and that of her people during his life, as he never intended to abandon the trade. In return, he expressed his expectation, that, for this act, the nation would give him the refusal of their peltries, in order that he might be enabled to comply with his engagement to them. He further promised, that if the match proved fruitful, the children should be made known to the white people, and would probably be qualified to continue the trade after his death.

"The parents replied with thanks for his liberal offers, and for his disposition to have pity on them; they would not object to the connection, and hoped that their daughter would accept of him as her husband.

"The parents then retired, and opened the subject to the daughter. They assured her that her proposed husband was a great man, greater than any of the Omawhaws; that he would do much for her and for them, and concluded by requesting her to acquiesce in the wishes of the white man. She replied, that all they said was, without doubt, true, and that, agreeably to his request, she was willing to become his wife.

"The agreement being thus concluded, the trader made presents, agreeably to the custom of the nation, and conducted his interesting prize to his house.

"The succeeding spring the trader departed for the settlements, leaving her of course at his trading house.

"The ensuing autumn she had the pleasure to see him return, having now conceived for him the most tender attachment. Upon his visit the following season, she presented him with a fine daughter, born during his absence, and whom she had nursed with the fondest attention. With the infant in her arms, she had daily seated herself on the bank of the river, and followed the downward course of the stream, with her eye, to gain the earliest notice of his approach. Thus time passed on. The second year the father greeted a son, and obtained his squaw's reluctant consent to take their daughter with him on his return voyage to the country of the white people. But, no sooner had he commenced his voyage, and although she had another charge upon which to lavish her caresses, than her maternal fondness overpowered her, and she ran crying and screaming along the river side in pursuit of the boat, tearing out her long flowing hair, and appearing to be almost bereft of reason. On her return home she gave away every thing she possessed, cut off her hair, went into deep mourning, and remained inconsolable. She would often say that she well knew that her daughter would be better treated than she could be at home, but she could not avoid regarding her own situation to be the same as if the Wahconda had taken away her offspring for ever.

"One day, in company with six other squaws, she was engaged in her agricultural labours, her infant boy being secured to his cradle-like board, which she had carefully reclined against a tree at a short distance. They were discovered by a war-party of Sioux, who rushed towards them, with the expectation of gratifying their vengeance by securing all their scalps. An exclamation from her companions directed her attention to the common enemy, and in her fright she fled precipitately, but, suddenly recollecting her child, she swiftly returned full in the face of the Sioux, snatched her child from the tree, and turned to save its life, more precious than her own. She was closely pursued by one of the enemy, when she arrived at a fence which separated her from the field of the trading-house. A moment's hesitation here would have been fatal; and, exerting all her strength, she threw the child, with its board, as far as she could on the opposite side.

"Four of the squaws were tomahawked, and the others escaped, of which number the mother was one, having succeeded in bearing off her child uninjured.

"The trader, on his arrival at the settlements, learned that his white or civilized wife had died during his absence, and after a short interval devoted to the usual formalities of mourning, he united his destinies with another and highly amiable lady. The second season his wife accompanied him on his annual voyage up the Missouri, to his trading-house, the abode of his squaw.

"Previously to his arrival, however, he dispatched a messenger to his dependents at the trading-house, directing them to prevent his squaw from appearing in the presence of his wife. She was accordingly sent off to the village of her nation, a distance of sixty or seventy miles. But she could not long remain there, and soon returned with her little boy on her back, and, accompanied by some of her friends, she encamped near her husband's residence. She sent her son to the trader, who treated him affectionately. On the succeeding day the trader sent for his squaw, and, after making her some presents, he directed her to accompany her friends, who were then on their way to their hunting-grounds.

"She departed without a murmur, as it is not unusual with the Omawhaws to send off one of their wives, on some occasions, while they remain with the favourite one.

"About two months afterwards the trader recalled her. Overjoyed with what she supposed to be her good fortune, she lost no time in presenting herself before the husband whom she tenderly loved. But great was her disappointment, when the husband demanded the surrender of the child, and renounced for the future any association with herself, directing her to return to her people, and to provide for her future well-being in any way she might choose.

"Overpowered by her feelings, on this demand and repudiation, she ran from the house, and finding a pirogue on the river shore, she paddled over to the opposite side and made her escape into the forest with her child. The night was cold, and attended with a fall of snow and hail. Reflecting upon her disconsolate condition, she resolved to return again in the morning, and with the feelings of a wife and a mother to plead her cause before the arbiter of her fate, and endeavour to mitigate the cruel sentence.

"Agreeably to this determination, she once more approached him upon whom she believed she had claims paramount to those of any other individual. 'Here is our child,' said she: 'I do not question your fondness for him, but he is still more dear to me. You say that you will keep him for yourself, and drive me far from you. But no, I will remain with him; I can find some hole or corner in which I may creep, in order to be near him, and sometimes to see him. If you will not give me food, I will, nevertheless, remain until I starve before your eyes.'

"The trader then offered her a considerable present, desiring her at the same time to go, and leave the child. But she said, 'Is my child a dog, that I should sell him for merchandize? You cannot drive me away; you may beat me, it is true, and otherwise abuse me, but I will still remain. When you married me, you promised to use me kindly as long as I should be faithful to you; that I have been so, no one can deny. Ours was not a marriage contracted for a season—it was to terminate only with our lives. I was then a young girl, and might have been united to an Omawhaw chief; but I am now an old woman, having had two children, and what Omawhaw will regard me? Is not my right paramount to that of your other wife; she had heard of me before you possessed her. It is true her skin is whiter than mine, but her heart cannot be more pure towards you, nor her fidelity more rigid. Do not take the child from my breast, I cannot bear to hear it cry, and not be present to relieve it[A]; permit me to retain it until the spring, when it will be able to eat, and then, if it must be so, take it from my sight, that I may part with it but once.'

[Footnote A: A mode of expression common to the Indians who are in the habit of communicating their ideas by allusions to the senses.]

"Seeing her thus inflexible, the trader informed her that she might remain there if she pleased, but that the child should be immediately sent down to the settlements.

"The affectionate mother had thus far sustained herself during the interview with the firmness of conscious virtue, and successfully resisted the impulse of her feelings; but nature now yielded, the tears coursed rapidly over her cheeks, and clasping her hands, and bowing her head, she burst into an agony of grief, exclaiming, 'Why did the Wahconda hate me so much, as to induce me to put my child again into your power?'

"The feelings of the unhappy mother were, however, soon relieved. Mr. Dougherty (an Indian trader), communicated the circumstance of the case to Major O'Fallon, (the agent), who immediately and peremptorily ordered the restoration of the child to its mother, and informed the trader that any future attempt to wrest it from her should be at his peril."

I will give an example of the generous self-devotion of an Omawhaw, to procure the escape of a brother, and with it end the volume.

"Two Omawhaw brothers had stolen a squaw from an individual of their nation, and were on their journey to seek a refuge in the Puncaw village. But they had the misfortune in a large prairie to meet with a war-party of Sioux, their implacable enemies. They immediately concealed themselves in a deep ravine, which at the bottom was covered with dry reed grass. The Sioux surrounded this spot, and set fire to it on the windward side of the reeds, in order to drive them out. When the conflagration had nearly reached the fugitives, one of the brothers remarked, that the Wahconda had certainly not created him to be smoked out like a racoon; the Indians smoke this animal out of hollow trees, by kindling a fire at the root: he urged his brother to attempt to escape in one direction, whilst he would attract the attention of the enemy, by sallying out upon them alone, and by endeavouring to destroy as many of them as possible, in anticipated revenge for that death which he considered as inevitable. 'One or both of us,' said he, 'must certainly be sacrificed; save yourself if you can; I will be the victim, and may fortunately receive a death-blow in the conflict, and thus escape the disgrace of captivity.' He then rushed forth amongst the Sioux, shot one, and with his knife wounded several before he was dispatched. His brother, availing himself of the diverted attention of the enemy, effected his escape, but the squaw was burned to death."

THE END.

LONDON: F. SHOBERL, JUN., LAZENBY COURT, LONG ACRE.



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