"Had you remained upon that trail, the route of a rambling night spirit, you would have surely died before the break of day."
Doubtless these interpretations often served to cover murderous designs.
On another occasion he was urged by a friendly Indian, a member of a secret society, not to undertake his usual journey, as, at a gulley south of Martin's Hill, danger lay in wait. True enough, at that place a large gray wolf sprang out and made a fierce lunge, inflicting deep wounds upon the horse. The traveler fired but missed the animal. Again and again the ferocious creature jumped at him, each time failing to reach the man and burying its teeth in the horse. After a furious conflict, in which the rider succeeded in beating back the wolf with the butt of his pistol, he urged forward the wounded steed and was enabled to outrun his wild adversary.
A Shawnee, descended from the principal characters described, is authority for the following story, of
MAUNE´, THE CHIPPEWA GIRL.
Near the city of Quebec, so long ago as the time of the French and Indian War, lived a dark-eyed girl of the Chippewa tribe, in whose sweet face bloomed a dusky beauty that distinguished her from other maidens of the nation and caused her to become an object of admiration to the gallant young officers who were struggling to maintain the supremacy of France. Had it not been for the brilliant victory of General Wolfe, and the noble sacrifices of the British and Colonial troops, there were no sad story to record, for with the advent of England came an exodus of the French soldiery from the Dominion, and crushing sorrow to Maune´, whose heart had been captured by the handsomest officer in the vicinity of their village.
She was the daughter of a great chief, renowned among his people for deeds of bravery in war, therefore, it had occasioned smallsurprise when the noble Colonel Beauchamie selectedla petiteMaune´ as his Indian bride. In time, two fine boys brought new sunshine into the rude quarters which, in those primitive days, served as home, though to the young mother, the rich furs and blankets and pretty trinkets with which she was endowed, seemed the very acme of luxury.
Life was full of sweet contentment, until, one clear, cold morning, the French looked out in astonishment upon the army of General Wolfe, drawn up in battle array. How it had ascended the steep cliffs was a mystery to those within the walls.
General Montcalm, resting his faith in superior numbers, risked a battle outside the fortifications. The heroism and patriotism of the opposing generals, their glorious death, the celebrated victory of the English with its important results, and the final expulsion of the French from that portion of the New World, are all matters of history.
Colonel Beauchamie was ordered back to France with his regiment. The questionnow obtruded itself, "What should be done with Maune´?" He could not present an Indian wife to friends at home, neither was he willing to leave his sons in Canada. After prolonged consultation with a few brother officers, it was quietly arranged that the children should be spirited away and placed on board a ship destined to transport the soldiers back to their native land; and the devoted woman was to be deserted.
Maune´, suspecting these designs, crept quietly behind the partition that screened the officers from view, and listened to the development of the plan. Her affectionate heart sank as she became aware of her husband's perfidy. Love, grief and determination followed in rapid succession. Sadly she stole away and prepared for flight. A canoe was stored with provisions and the sleeping children placed inside; then, with mingled feelings of affection and the hatred and resolution peculiar to her race, she bade farewell to home, happiness, country, all that made life dear, except the slumbering babes. Fortheir sakes she would struggle through the wilderness to a more favored land. Where, she knew not. The Great Spirit would guide and protect her; and the blood of fierce warriors, which flowed in the veins of this child of Nature, gave strength and courage in the hour of need.
Up the river she proceeded, keeping close to shore; when at a safe distance from pursuit, landing for rest and for the purpose of adding to their scant amount of provisions. From the river into the lakes, slowly, cautiously, Maune´ made her way, passing through untold hardships, always caring tenderly for the dependent little ones. Cold, hunger, wild beasts and the fierce storms of the Northern lakes were alike disregarded; and at last, long after English rule had been firmly established in Canada, and Quebec and Montreal converted into British headquarters; after the cruel conquerors had banished the simple Acadians from their land—Maune´, weak, emaciated and fainting with starvation,was found by a wandering party of Shawnees, upon the Illinois shore.
By almost superhuman efforts, the heroic woman had preserved her children; and the hardships of the journey had produced no serious effects upon their sturdy constitutions. Adopted into the tribe, she found a habitation with the friendly Shawnees.
Though the image of her pale-faced husband was never erased entirely from the heart of the faithful Chippewa, and a lingering sadness and silence kept her in partial isolation, she lived many years in quiet and saw her sons, as they grew to manhood, regarded as the boldest and most successful of the tribe, in times of peace and war.
Advancing age brought with it the suspicion of witchcraft. Maune´ was of a strange nation; and her adherence to unknown customs aroused fear in the breasts of the ignorant Shawnees. Finally, the leading medicine man decreed that she must die. Her sons were powerless to resist the tide of superstition.
A bundle of sticks was produced, and the unfortunate creature tied to a stake. Then the horrible torture commenced. Frantic Indians, chanting their weird melodies, danced round the fire, as it slowly consumed the ill-fated Chippewa. Not a sound of terror or of anguish escaped the woman in this moment of exquisite suffering. At last, a merciful breath of flame severed the thread of life, and all that remained of the bright little maiden, who had been the idol of her brave Canadian people, was a disfigured mass of charred flesh and bones.
Surely the Great Spirit whom she worshipped, and the tender Mother of Christ, whom the Jesuits had taught her to implore, looked down in pitying love, and recompensed, in the Spirit Land, this child of misfortune—Maune´la misérable.
Tragedies were every-day occurrences among the natives, in those days, and there were times when fanaticism swept all before it; but that the great men of the Indianswere not unworthy of the admiration and respect of their enemies, is shown in
A FRAGMENT OF HISTORY FROM THE WAR OF THE RACES.
On a picturesque cliff overlooking the Mad River, in what is now the State of Ohio, was located, more than a century ago, the Indian village of the Piqua Shawnees.
The settlement was prosperous and fully two hundred acres of land were in cultivation. A log fort, surrounded with pickets, had been built, and the Shawnees were prepared for defense in the event of an attempt to capture the town.
This beautiful spot was the birth-place of the famous Tecumseh—Shooting Star—the most illustrious Indian that ever battled for the rights of his people. Eloquent, powerful in mind and body, and possessing the soul of a hero, the patriotic chief was, at the opening of the nineteenth century, deep in plans for the advancement of hisrace. Is it a matter of surprise that he should oppose, with ceaseless energy, the encroachment of the white man? That his talents should be unsparingly used in the hopeless endeavor to stay the westward progress of civilization? He had seen the red man repeatedly deprived of land, under almost compulsory treaties with the Government. His independent spirit rebelled against the authority of the pale-face; and the circumstances of his father's death, during the troublous times when the celebrated Cornstalk waged war, had made a lasting impression.
TECUMSEH.TECUMSEH.
The far-seeing leader realized that without a combined effort on the part of the natives, extinction was certain. Fired with determination to break the growing power of the Long-knives (as the Americans were called), he formed a federation of nations for the purpose of putting a stop to emigration, claiming that their possessions were common property and could not be transferred without the consent of all.
He incited the Indians to hostilities, going from one part of the country to another, accompanied by two warriors of exceptional bravery. Sa-wa-co-ta (Yellow Cloud) and Wa-se-go-bo-ah (Stand Firm) were the sons of a Chippewa mother. Their father, a French officer, had gone back to his own land at the close of the French and Indian War. Prior to his departure, the unfortunate wife, learning of the proposed desertion, and discovering that her children were to be placed on board the ship which would soon sail across the seas, fled with the babes and found a refuge among the Shawnees, where the boys grew to manhood. Tall, straight and commanding, with all the intensity of the Latin races, and the wildness and stoicism of the aborigines, they were well fitted for positions of trust under Tecumseh.
Indian traits predominated in Sa-wa-co-ta, the older of the brothers. His dark complexion, high cheek bones and flashing eyes bespoke, to a marked degree, a savage lineage; while the open countenance of Wa-se-go-bo-ahshowed a stronger tendency toward the father's kindred. From early childhood, there had been in his manner, a refinement and superiority that denoted a long line of cultured ancestors from the nobility of France. Here, even in the wilds of America, was that distinction observed and respected by a barbarous people.
Young and old alike listened with quiet approval when the lips of Wa-se-go-bo-ah opened to give advice, and the sister of Tecumseh, Tecumapease, heard with trembling joy the words his eyes had long since spoken, and betrothal followed. But there was one of dark and evil face and strange demeanor, the older brother of Tecumapease, who gazed with hatred on her future lord, and would, if possible, prevent the nuptials. The prophet, Elkswatawa (Loud Voice), fearing the influence of the warrior Stand Firm might exceed his own, opposed the union.
Tecumseh, having returned from a pilgrimage to a distant tribe, was seated in his cabin, awaiting the coming of the prophet.He regarded with contempt the luxuries of life, and when at home in the new Piqua village, resided in a log hut chinked with mud. The ancient town had been destroyed by white soldiers, and its namesake founded near the Great Miami River. A nose ring with three silver crosses, and a few stripes of brilliant paint gave a look of ferocity to the bright intelligent face of the chief; and a medallion of George the Third, on a wampum string, hung around his neck. Buckskin leggings, moccasins decorated with porcupine quills, a deerskin jacket and a blue breech-cloth completed the odd uniform.
Elkswatawa entered, clad in garments made from the skins of wild animals. In addition to these, a kind of turban surmounted with bunches of feathers, a nose ring, large earrings, hideously painted cheeks, and a sightless eye, the other gleaming with malignant fire, were well calculated to inspire terror. The man was an object of superstitious awe to the Northwestern Indians.
In vain he sought to change the mind of him who had decided to bestow Tecumapease upon the most beloved of all the braves. The wily Prophet appealed without effect to that innate love of power, strong in persons that are born to rule. The Shooting Star looked deep beneath the surface, and discerned, within the heart of Loud Voice, envy and unfounded dread of the growing popularity of Wa-se-go-bo-ah.
The Prophet left in anger; and collecting a few followers, betook himself to a new locality, the present site of Greenville, where he established a town.
Attracted by stories of wonderful deeds, savages from different directions flocked to the place. It was rumored that the seer could make pumpkins as large as wigwams come up out of the ground, and that one ear of his corn would feed six men; that he was invulnerable, and had all knowledge of the present, past and future. Many of the Shawnees considered Elkswatawa an impostor and refused to enter into any plans againstthe Government. Tecumseh frowned upon them, and spent much time, when not upon his travels, at the Prophet's town.
General Harrison, Governor of the Territory of Indiana, became alarmed and sent a letter to the brothers, inviting them to Vincennes, for the purpose of making known their grievances. To the intense fright of the inhabitants, they responded with an escort of four hundred fully armed warriors. At the appointed hour, on the morning of the Twelfth of August, 1808, Tecumseh advanced, with thirty chosen men, to the place of meeting in front of the Governor's residence. By his side were Stand Firm, now the husband of Tecumapease, and Yellow Cloud. An aid-de-camp pointed to a seat by General Harrison, and addressing the chief, said:
"Your father requests you to take a seat."
Drawing his blanket more closely around him, Tecumseh replied:
"The Sun is my father and the Earth is my mother; on her bosom will I repose"; and flung himself upon the ground.
His speech at the council has gone down in history as one of the most remarkable on record, for native oratory. A spirited answer, with a refusal to return the lands in question, aroused the braves, who, at a signal, seized their war clubs. Tomahawks were brandished in a threatening way. Bloodshed was averted only by the coolness and tact of the Governor.
In the confusion which resulted, Wa-se-go-bo-ah fell heavily forward, stricken down, supposedly, by a white foe. The unconscious man was borne to the Indian camp. As no wound could be discovered on first examination, the Americans were accused of employing supernatural power. Then a small bruise was found at the base of the brain, similar to one produced by a missile. Gradually the favorite of the people recovered; and as he lay upon the grass, enveloped in a thick blanket, he turned, and suddenly beheld a terrible figure, with horns and one fierce gleaming eye, burning like a coal of fire, creep stealthilytoward him. Its hand was raised to strike, and in the claw-like fingers was clutched a glittering knife. Frozen with horror, he remained for a moment immovable, then, quick as thought, rolled under the arm of the crouching demon—evading the blade almost by miracle—and struck against its breast. A desperate struggle ensued, in which Stand Firm secured possession of the weapon. Holding it aloft, he caught at the throat of the hairy-faced monster and the mask came off, disclosing the features of the Prophet.
"Elkswatawa, N-tha-thah (my brother), why do you seek my life? Go, for the sake of her whose eyes are as the stars of heaven, unharmed. Their light shall guide me into paths of peace. Her love shall teach me to forgive your murderous wrath."
The creature slunk away; and the noble conqueror dreamed that night of the little Piqua village, where Tecumapease, with trustful heart, besought the great Master of Life to preserve him, who, even while she prayed, escaped the grasp of death. But the MightyBeing who controls the destiny of humanity, from the highest even to the lowest, punished the treacherous seer, when, on the sixth of November, 1811, the Indians, in direct violation of a truce, advanced upon the United States troops under General Harrison, encamped within a mile of the Prophet's Town.
The Magic Bowl, the Sacred Torch and the Holy String of Beans were touched, and the savages, believing themselves invulnerable, rushed upon the tents of the Americans at four o'clock in the morning. Tecumseh was absent upon a visit to the Creeks, Choctaws and Chickasaws. The cowardly Prophet stood, at a safe distance from the battle-ground, going through religious mummeries and singing a war song.
Complete victory established the fame of General Harrison; and the Battle of Tippecanoe was one of the most important in results, of that period. The destruction of their village scattered the tribes over a large area. Elkswatawa took refuge with a few Wyandots on Wild Cat Creek. Eventually, he removedto Kansas and died in Shawnee Township, Wyandotte County. His grave has no headstone, and those interested in the early history of the State have sought in vain for some distinguishing mark.
The really great Tecumseh, returning to find all his schemes defeated, became an ally of the British. Much of the trouble with the white settlers had been occasioned through their agency. The two friends of the rebellious chief faithfully followed his fortunes. If Fate dealt hardly with him, they shared the danger and disappointment. If kindly, the triumph was theirs, also.
Sa-wa-co-ta was killed at Frenchtown, by a ball intended for his superior. The Americans, closely pursued, had sought shelter behind houses and fences on the south side of the River Raisin. The Indians, by a detour, had gained the woods in the rear and were protected. Disdaining to skulk from tree to tree, the fiery warrior, with Tecumseh and a small number of brave men, pressed boldly upon the fugitives. Observing that theirleader was singled out by the enemy, his companions closed in around the chief to shield him, at the moment that Yellow Cloud stepped in front, for the same purpose. The latter fell, heart and brain penetrated by bullets. Thus nobly ended the life of Sa-wa-co-ta, of whose achievements, even the noted chiefs, Roundhead, Panther and Blue Jacket, might well be proud.
History has recorded the outcome of the struggle, and traced the wanderings of those who, deprived of their inheritance and driven to desperation, united with the foes of America.
General Proctor, discouraged by Perry's victory on Lake Erie, that occurred some time later, fled from Malden, where he was stationed at the time, with eight hundred soldiers and two thousand Indians. General Harrison overtook the combined forces near the River Thames. During the battle, Colonel Johnson and the Kentucky cavalry were ordered to charge. Galloping forward, they broke through the lines and formed again,when the English surrendered. Tecumseh began the conflict with fury, fighting more fiercely than ever before. His voice could be heard above the din, inspiring the men to make every exertion; but the day was lost. Colonel Johnson, engaged in a hand-to-hand contest with a fine, well-built Indian, was wounded by another, as soon as he had despatched the first. The second assailant then sprang toward him with a tomahawk, when the officer drew a pistol and killed his antagonist. The rest of the savages, losing hope, gave way.
Night came on, but the heavens were dark. The Shooting Star would never more be seen. The ringing voice was silent; and Tecumapease, his sister, waited in vain for the return of her lord. Stand Firm, "faithful unto death," had fallen beside the chief. Next morning, the bodies of two warriors, with dignity of face and form, were found, not far apart, upon the bloody field.
Tecumseh was the greatest, most magnanimous, and bravest man the red race hadever known. Now that his brilliant oratory no longer swayed the multitudes, organized resistance to settlement north of the Ohio River ceased. Tecumapease, to whom had been entrusted the care of her brother's child, died a few years later, and the boy, together with her son, drifted, with the Shawnees, from reservation to reservation. For many years they lived in Eastern Kansas, where the descendants of Tecumapease still reside, and relate, with pardonable pride, the exploits of their forefathers.
THE SHAWNEE PROPHET.THE SHAWNEE PROPHET.
The tardiness of the red race in accepting civilization, has long been a subject of comment. Yet the barbarian should not be censured, in view of the fact that paler-faced youth, with all the benefits accruing from past generations of culture, have, in many instances, taken readily to aboriginal customs. It was a part of the religion of all Indian nations to increase their number by adoption. Frequently white children were spiritedaway from home and carried from place to place, in order to evade pursuit. Almost invariably, after a lapse of time, they not only became reconciled to savage modes of living, but preferred them. A notable case was that of
CHINWA, THE WHITE WARRIOR.
In the early part of the nineteenth century, before the Shawnees had emigrated to the Valley of the Kaw, there was a famous old chief named Black Fish, who was untiring in activity against the white settlers. During one of the numerous periods of hostility, Chinwa, the only son of this warrior, was killed; and the grief-stricken father said to his braves,
"Go, go and find me a boy to replace my son."
Putting on their black paint, the Indians went over the Alleghanies into Virginia.
In a prosperous settlement in Western Virginia lived a wealthy planter named Rogers. His family consisted of himself, hiswife and two young sons. One quiet evening in early fall, the boys were allowed to go for the cows unaccompanied by the servant who ordinarily acted as body guard. The beautiful autumn woods were aglow with color, and the children's exuberance of spirits burst forth in shouts and other noisy demonstrations.
As little Henry lingered to seize a brilliant spray of rich-tinted foliage, two hideous black-painted savages sprang from the bushes and caught him before he had time to call for assistance. The frightened child was borne hastily away, through the forest, over the mountains, to an Indian village where Black Fish received him with open arms, saying:
"Don't be afraid; you are now my son—my Chinwa. Here, take his bow and arrows; here are his gun and knapsack. Some day you will be a great chief."
Henry was adopted into the tribe, and forgetting his former home, learned to be content with the wild life of the Shawnees. Afine horse and saddle were a constant source of pleasure, and persistent practice made the boy expert in the use of bow and arrows.
As he grew older, Chinwa became a successful hunter, and was looked upon with pride and admiration by his sisters. The youngest of these, pretty little Chelatha, was sought in marriage by many braves; but old Black Fish, waiting for the day when Chinwa should declare his love, repulsed their advances with disdain. At length the young chief could no longer conceal his regard from the object of his affection, and implored her to become his bride. She replied with indignation:
"You are my brother. I could not be my brother's wife."
After a long conference with Watmeme, the mother, in which the entire circumstances were explained, Chelatha said:
"If father says so, I will marry Chinwa."
Amid great rejoicing, the pale-face took her to his habitation, and the tribe celebratedthe event with feasting and strange ceremonies.
Excitement prevailed in the Rogers household when Henry was captured, and a search had been prosecuted wherever a clue could be obtained. Long years after the disappearance of her younger son, sorrow still reigned in the heart of the bereaved mother; and it was with fear and trembling at last, that the older brother, receiving tidings of the lost one, traced him over the mountain ranges, into the beautiful blue-grass country, to the land of Daniel Boone.
The meeting was a happy one, though marked by some constraint—the result of years of separation and widely different surroundings. Henry was persuaded to leave his western home and repair to the aged mother, now prostrated by severe illness. Once more within the confines of civilization, he abandoned the insignia of savage life, and adopted the garb of his own people. Unusual festivities followed; the mother, recovering strength, employed every art to retainhim, but without success. In vain the pretty maidens of the village exerted all their power to please. Memories of a happy life in the wilderness were always present, and he said:
"Mother, I have learned to love the Indians; there I am free. I love my two children and my dark-haired wife."
The next morning the colored servant was commanded to bring his horse, and Chinwa, the warrior, in all the splendor of beads and buckskin, bade farewell to the home of his infancy. How fresh and sweet was the breath of the woods, as he dashed into her depths! The delicate blossoms of spring lifted their dainty heads and scattered perfume along the narrow trail. The cloudless sky and the distant mountains seemed to beckon him on to the loved ones who at that moment were waiting, longing for the wanderer's return.
Time sped by on rapid wings, and soon Chelatha—sitting lonely in her doorway, said to her little ones:
"Listen, I hear the voice of your father."
Again the faint call was borne through the distance and reverberated in her anxious heart. Then its beatings responded to the sound of horse's hoofs, and the next moment, Chinwa, the brave, sprang to the ground and caught her in his arms, saying:
"I have come home—home to my Chelatha, never to leave her more."
CHE-LA-THA.CHE-LA-THA.
All the pleasures, all the riches which the world can give are as nothing when weighed in the balance against the sincere love of one devoted heart.
The Shawnees, like other Indian tribes, were firm believers in evil spirits; and when it was thought that one had become possessed of a demon, did not hesitate to employ heroic measures to drive it out. To such superstitions may be ascribed
THE TRAGIC DEATH OF THE SON OF CHIEF LAY-LAW-SHE-KAW.
When the present site of the city of Topeka was the hunting-ground of the ShawneeIndians there was a fierce war with the Pawnees.
Chief Lay-law-she-kaw (He Who Goes Up the River) had been successful in many battles and pursued the enemy far into their own territory. At length, in desperation, the Pawnees gathered strength, and making a final effort for the preservation of their homes, surprised the victorious Shawnees while encamped among the hills along the river.
In the thick of the fight, Pa-che-ta, the son of Lay-law-she-kaw, sprang to the side of the old chief, just as a powerful warrior raised his tomahawk to cleave his skull. In another moment the leader would have fallen, had not the young brave, with the utmost coolness, lifted his rifle, taken quick aim and fired. With a horrible yell, the Pawnee sank to the ground. Attracted by his cry, three others appeared. Again the rifle did sudden duty, while Lay-law-she-kaw engaged the nearest enemy. Two more were despatched, and now Pa-che-ta turned to face the remainingPawnee, who had approached too near for rifles, and endeavored to use the tomahawk. This was dashed from his hand. The two grappled fiercely, each striving to get the knife out of his belt. At last Pa-che-ta succeeded in holding down his adversary, and plunged the knife deep into his heart. Blinded by the blood, which spurted up into his face, the Shawnee staggered to his feet and ran forward a short distance, only to find himself in the midst of the attacking Indians. Desperately he fought his way out, striking right and left, wounded and faint. Then, seeing a gulley surrounded with bushes, he rolled into it, and creeping painfully to the edge of a pond, waded into the water.
The Pawnees lost the trail. They looked here and there while the main body pursued old Lay-law-she-kaw and his braves to the country of the Kaws. Night fell; and still Pa-che-ta lay concealed in the lake among the tall grass. At the end of the second day the search was abandoned.
Then the prisoner, half starved and half demented, dragged himself slowly homeward. A few berries and roots had been his sole food, and the burning rays of the sun had beaten down upon his head, until reason tottered.
The people went wild with enthusiasm when their hero, emaciated but triumphant, appeared in the village. He was taken to Lay-law-she-kaw's habitation and provided with nourishment, but sank into a stupor from which the medicine men, with all their skill, could not arouse him.
After many days he awakened; great was the rejoicing. His father appointed a day of feasting; and the tribe gathered to do honor to him who had fought so bravely in the face of defeat. Cattle were slaughtered, fires were kindled, and strange dances were in progress when Pa-che-ta approached. Demonstrations of joy greeted his appearance.
Among the children on the outer edge of the circle, stood little N-tha-thah, gazing proudly at the big brother who would oneday be his chief. As the excitement increased, his heart swelled with pride, and the next moment found him, bow and arrows in hand, the center of the charmed circle.
Pa-che-ta gazed at the child with a strange look in his piercing black eyes. Then, with a stealthy movement, he turned and slowly reached for the rifle which rested against the stump of a tree.
Lay-law-she-kaw, keen witted and alert, noticed the sudden change that came over the face of his eldest son. What was the cause of that cruel, crafty expression? Had bad spirits entered the brain of Pa-che-ta, whose noble deeds would ever after be celebrated by the nation? Now the brave was creeping cautiously toward the little one, who stood motionless, in round-eyed wonder. Deliberately he placed the weapon to his shoulder and took aim—but the crack of another rifle broke the awful hush which had fallen upon the people, and when the smoke cleared away, Pa-che-ta lay in a pool of blood.The father had fired in time to preserve his young child.
For many years the old women of the tribe told, in accents of awe, how evil spirits had gone into the brain of their noblest warrior and looked out of his eyes with terrible glances of murderous hatred, in the moment of his greatest triumph. How they had been driven out with a rifle ball, and Lay-law-she-kaw,O-kee-nah(the chief), sorrowing for his first born, had that day been called by the Great Spirit to enter the Happy Hunting Grounds.
The North American Indian was of a strange, somewhat contradictory character: in war, daring, cunning, boastful, ruthless; in peace, cheerful, dignified, superstitious, revengeful; clinging as far as possible, to the customs of his forefathers. Civilization came almost as a destroyer. Future generations will know him only as a dim, historic figure, around which clusters the mythology of ancient America.
Whence came these legends and traditions? The children of Nature read them in the leafy woodlands, on the broad prairie, in the blue vault of heaven, the crimson sunset, the dark storm-threatening clouds, in every gentle breeze or sweeping hurricane. Each story lived in the hearts of the people, and here and there a mighty forest tree bore a quaint inscription
"Full of hope and yet of heart-break,Full of all the tender pathosOf the Here and the Hereafter."
"The stars, and hills and storms are with us now, as they were with others of old; and it only needs that we look at them with the earnestness of those childish eyes, to understand the first words spoken of them by the children of men, and then, in all the most beautiful and enduring myths, we shall find, not only a literal story of a real person, not only a parallel imagery of moral principle, but an underlying worship of natural phenomena, out of which both have sprung, and in which both forever remain rooted."
Ruskin.
Transcribers Note:Several words in this book were inconsistently hyphenated, I have left all the hyphenation as it was written. In particular the contents tables often use different hyphenation and accents to the main text.Some names were also spelt differently in the contents tables and in the main text. I have left these differences as they were written.