Traditions of the North American Indians Volume I Part 16

DISCOVERY OF THE UPPER WORLD.

A TRADITION OF THE MINNATAREES.

The Minnatarees, and all the other Indians who are of the stock of the grandfather of nations, were once not of this upper air, but dwelt in the bowels of the earth. The Good Spirit, when he made them, no doubt meant, at a proper time, to put them in the enjoyment of all the good things which he had prepared for them upon the earth, but he ordered that their first stage of existence should be within it, as the infant is formed, and takes its first growth in the womb of its natural mother.

They all dwelt under ground, like moles, in one great cavern, which covered the whole island; when they emerged, it was in different places, but generally near where they now inhabit. At that time, few of the Indian tribes wore the human form; some had the figures or semblances of beasts. The Paukunnawkuts were rabbits, some of the Delawares were ground-hogs, others tortoises, and the Tuscaroras and a great many others, were rattlesnakes. The Sioux were the hissing-snake(1); but the Minatarees were always men. Their part of the great cavern was situated far towards the Mountains of Snow.

The great cavern in which the Indians dwelt was indeed a dark and dismal region. In the country of the Minnatarees it was lighted up only by the rays of the sun which strayed through the fissures of the rock, and the crevices in the roof of the cavern, while in that of the Mengwe it was dark and sunless. The life of the Indians was a life of misery compared with that they now enjoy, and it was endured only because they were ignorant of a fairer or richer world, or a better or happier state of being. Clothes they had none; they lived and died naked as they came into the world. Their food was mice, and snakes, and worms, and moles, with now and then a bat, and the roots of trees, which crept downward from the regions of the upper air till they reached the subterranean abodes of the poor benighted Indian. They ate sand, it is true, and fed upon a dirt which glittered like the sun, but which was tasteless, and contained no nutriment, and they grew poor upon it, and early sickened and died. A miserably poor and weak race they were, and the Great Spirit was kindest, when he took them from their dismal dwellings to the happy mansions in the green vales and quiet lakes which lie hid in the mountains. And, so well convinced were the Indians that the exchange would be for the better, that they celebrated the death of a man with great rejoicing, but wept and howled loud and long when a child was born. And thus they dwelt, in the caverns which lie beneath the surface of the earth, unknowing of the beautiful and glorious world over their heads, till the Good Spirit sent agents for their deliverance.

There were among the Minnatarees two boys, who, from the hour of their birth, showed superior wisdom, sagacity, and cunning. Even while they were children, they were wiser than their fathers and mothers. They asked their parents whence the light which streamed through the fissures of the rock and played along the sides of the cavern came, and whence and from what descended the roots of the great vine. Their father said he could not tell; and their mother only laughed at the question, which appeared to her very foolish. They asked the priest; neither could he tell, but said he supposed the light came from the eyes of some great wolf. The boys told him he was a fool. They asked the king tortoise, who sulkily drew his head into his sh.e.l.l, and made no answer. But, when they asked the chief rattlesnake, he answered that he knew, and would tell them all about it if they would promise to make peace with his tribe, and on no account ever to kill one of his descendants. The boys promised, and the chief rattlesnake then told them that there was a world above them, composed of ore more s.h.i.+ning than that they had tossed in boyish play in each other's eyes--a beautiful world, peopled by creatures in the shape of beasts, having a pure atmosphere and a soft sky, sweet fruits and mellow water, well-stocked hunting-grounds and well-filled ponds. He told them to ascend by the roots, which were those of a great grape-vine. A while after the boys were missing. Another while they had not returned; nor did they come back until the Minnatarees had celebrated the feast of rejoicing for their death(2), and the lying priest had, as he falsely said, in a vision seen them inhabitants of the Land of Spirits.

One day, the Indians were surprised by the return of the boys. They came back singing and dancing, and were grown so much, and looked so different from what they did when they left the cavern, that their father and mother scarcely knew them. They were sleek and fat; and when they walked it was with so strong a step that the hollow s.p.a.ce rung with the sound of their feet. Their bodies were covered with something which the Minnatarees had never seen before, but which they since know was feathers and the skins of animals. They had blankets wrapt around them of the skins of rac.o.o.ns and beavers. Each of them had at his back a bundle of beautiful ripe grapes, and of the flesh of a great animal, which they had been taught to kill by people looking much like the Minnatarees, only handsomer and stronger--people who lived by hunting, and delighted in shedding the blood of each other, who painted their bodies with strange figures, and loved to drink a water which made them crazy and boisterous.

On first emerging from the caverns, they came, they said, into a world where all was light and beauty. It was directly over that part of the cavern where our tribe dwelt. They saw a great round ball of fire, which gave light and heat to the earth, and whose beams it was which had shot down through the fissures of the rock, partially illumining the cavern.

The earth above them they had found covered with green, and scented with sweet-smelling flowers. Here and there were beautiful groves of trees, in whose shady branches birds of soft notes and varied and lovely plumage were singing all the day long. Its waters, which flowed cool and clear, were peopled by sportive fishes, and by many kinds of fowls, whose motions in their element were beautiful to the eye; and whose meat, when cooked, was exceedingly sweet to the taste. They saw a beautiful river, gliding rapidly through banks, shaded by lofty trees; its smooth current wafting the Indian brave to distant expeditions of war and the chase. Here were vast herds of wild animals, called by the inhabitants bisons, whose flesh they had found very good and juicy, and which animals were killed with arrows and sharp spears. The eyes of the boys glistened like coals of fire, and became of double size, while they described the beauties and wonders of the upper earth.

The Indians were very much delighted with the boys' story. They tasted of the meat, and the grapes, and liked them so well, that they resolved to leave their dull residence under ground, for the charms of the upper air. All the inhabitants of the cavern agreed to leave it for the newly-discovered hunting-grounds, except the ground-hog, the badger, and the mole, who said as their maker had placed them there, there they would live, and there they would die. The rabbit said he would live sometimes below and sometimes above, and the rattlesnake, and the tortoise, promised to spend the winter in the caverns, which they always do.

When the Indians had determined to leave their habitations under ground, they agreed to do it at different points, that they might sooner be on the surface. The Minnatarees began, men, women, and children, to clamber up the vine. One half of them had already reached the surface of the earth, when a dire mishap involved the remainder in a still more desolate captivity within its bowels. There was among the Minnatarees a very big and fat old woman, who was heavier than any six of her nation.

Nothing would do but she must go up before certain of her neighbours.

Away she clambered, but her weight was so great, that the vine broke with it; and the opening, to which it afforded the sole means of ascending, closed upon her and the rest of the nation. Other tribes fared better: in particular the beasts. The tortoise, who always took the lead, because he was descended from the Great Tortoise who bears the world on his back, and can live both on the land and in the water, very easily crept out, but the Monseys or Wolves, who dwelt under Lake Onondaga, did not emerge so easily. After trying to reach the upper air for a long time in vain, one of their number, a cunning old wolf, discovered a hole through which he crept out. He soon caught a deer, which he carried down to his tribe, who found it so sweet that they redoubled their exertions to reach a spot where such good things were to be had, and fortunately soon reached it in company with the Turkeys, whom they overtook on the way. The Mengwe crept out of the same hole, but it was a long while afterwards. The Tortoise, the Wolves, and the Turkeys, all confederated to declare war against the Bears, who were a very numerous and savage tribe; and the hatchet has not been buried yet.

But they made a firm peace with the Rattlesnakes, which lasted till the coming of the Big-knives, when the latter broke the calumet of peace by biting an Indian, whom they mistook for a white man. Since then these two people have also been at war.

When the Minnatarees arrived in the upper air, they established themselves on the spot where they now reside. Very soon after, a party of strange men appeared among them, mounted on animals, or rather they seemed a part of strange animals, with four legs, possessed of great fleetness, and whose long and beautiful tails swept the earth where they trod. They attacked the wonderful creatures with their bows and arrows, and succeeded in killing one of them, upon which the others ran away.

Not at first perceiving that the man and horse were two distinct animals, how much were they surprised to see the former fall to the earth, as if one part of the compound of the animal was dead, and the other still active, having received no injury. They at length succeeding in capturing the horse, and, after admiring the beauty of his form, and becoming familiar with him, they proceeded to tie one of their young men upon his back with cords that he might not fall off. The horse was then led cautiously by the halter until he became sufficiently tame to ride alone, and without a leader. It was in this manner that our nation procured the horse, and from this one sprung the breed we now have.

Brothers, this is what our fathers told us of the manner in which the Minnatarees and other Indian tribes became possessed of their present hunting-grounds, and of the way in which our nation procured the horse.--I have done.

NOTES.

(1) _The Hissing-Snake_.--p. 201.

This snake is the most remarkable of the different species of snake that infest the western wilds. It is of the small speckled kind, and about eight inches long. When any thing approaches, it flattens itself in a moment, and its spots, which are of various dyes, become visibly brighter through rage; at the same time it blows from its mouth, with great force, a subtle wind, that is reported to be of a nauseous smell, and, if drawn in with the breath of the unwary traveller, it is said, will infallibly bring on a decline, that in a few months must prove mortal. So says Carver.

(2) _Feast of rejoicing for their death_.--p. 204.

The early travellers report, that some of the tribes on the banks of the Mississippi, in the words of the text, "celebrated the death of a man with great rejoicing."

LOVE AND WAR.

Many a winter has pa.s.sed away, and many a season's snow mixed with the deep current of the great lake Superior, since the fame of Wanawosh was sounded along its sh.o.r.es. He was the son of an ancient line, who had preserved the chieftains.h.i.+p in their family from the remotest times. His fathers had all been renowned warriors and hunters, and hence he cherished a lofty pride of ancestry, and the belief that he himself, as well as they, were better than those by whom he was surrounded. To the reputation of his descent from eminent ancestors he added the advantages of a tall and commanding person, and the dazzling qualities of great personal strength and activity--qualities ever appreciated most highly by those who are deficient in mental power. His bow was renowned throughout the surrounding tribes, for its weight and extraordinary dimensions; and there were few that could raise his ponderous war-club, or poise his mighty spear. He was often known to have shot one of his flint-headed arrows through the body of a deer, and to have beat in the skull of a male buffalo with a single blow of his club. His counsel was as much sought as his prowess was feared, so that he came in tune to be equally famed as a hunter, a warrior, and a sage. But he had now pa.s.sed the meridian of his days, and the term Akkeewaisee, "one who had been long above the earth," was familiarly applied to him. Such was Wanawosh, to whom the united voice of the nation awarded the first place in their esteem and the highest seat in authority. Even had he wanted the hereditary power and dignity, the esteem, and affection, and veneration, of his people, would have conferred upon him rule, quite as potential in its nature as that which he enjoyed by his birthright. But pride was the ruling pa.s.sion of this great chieftain, and to that he sacrificed every other pa.s.sion.

Wanawosh had an only daughter, who had now lived to witness the budding of the leaves for the eighteenth spring. Her father was not more celebrated for his deeds of strength and valour, than his gentle daughter for her goodness, her slender and graceful form, her dark and beaming eyes, and her black and flowing hair. There had never been seen, among the Indian nations, so lovely and perfect a maiden as the daughter of Wanawosh. Warriors came from distant tribes to court the fair daughter of the chieftain but they departed, some with bitter reproofs for their presumption, and none with encouragement or permission to hope.

Among others, her hand was sought by a youth of humble parentage, one who had no other merits to recommend him, but such as might arise from a graceful person, a manly step, and an eye beaming with the fires of youth and love. These were sufficient to attract the favourable notice of the daughter; but they were by no means satisfactory to the father, who sought an alliance more suitable to his rank and the high pretensions of his family. Little thought he of the happiness of his daughter, so that he secured for his son-in-law a warrior of celebrity.

"Listen to me, young man," he replied to the trembling hunter, who had sought the interview, "and be attentive to what you hear. You ask me to bestow upon you my daughter, the chief solace of my age, and my choicest gift from the Master of Life. Others have asked of me this boon, who were as young, as active, and as ardent, as yourself. Some of these persons had better claims to become my son-in-law than you. Some of them had _struck_ the enemies of their country in distant forests, others had been leaders of successful expeditions. Young man, have you considered well who it is that you would choose for a father-in-law? Have you reflected upon the deeds which have raised me in authority, and made my name known to every one who has ever heard of the Chippewas, and dreaded as the bolt of death by all the enemies of my nation? Where is a chief who is not proud to be considered the friend of Wanawosh? Where is a hunter who can bend the bow of Wanawosh? or a warrior who can wield his club, or poise his weighty lance? And who is he, whose proudest wish is not, that he may some day be equal in bravery to Wanawosh? Have you not also heard, that my fathers came, ages ago, from the land of the rising sun, decked with plumes, and clothed with authority? Have you not heard, that my family have been chiefs of the Chippewas ever since the moss-covered oaks on the hills were little sprouts?

"And what, young man, have you to boast that you should claim an alliance with my warlike line? Have you ever met your enemies on the field of battle? Have you ever brought home a trophy of victory? Where are the prisoners your arm has made; where have you hung your scalps?

Have you ever proved your fort.i.tude, by suffering protracted pain, enduring continued hunger, or sustaining great fatigue? Is your name known beyond the humble limits of your native village? Do the warriors of distant tribes relate your splendid deeds, and, when they speak of a war with the Chippewas, take into account the lance of the son of Kayneewee? Go then, young man, and earn a name for yourself. It is none but the brave that can ever hope to claim an alliance with the house of Wanawosh. Think not my ancient and honoured blood shall mingle with the humble mark of the Awausees, fit _totem_ for fishermen."

The intimidated lover departed, but he resolved to do a deed that should render him worthy of the daughter of Wanawosh, or perish in the attempt.

He called together several of his young companions and equals in years, imparted to them his design of conducting an expedition against the enemy, and requested their a.s.sistance. Several embraced the proposal immediately; others were soon brought to acquiesce, and, before ten suns had set, he saw himself at the head of a formidable party of young warriors, all eager, like himself, to distinguish themselves in battle.

Each warrior was armed, according to the custom of the period, with a bow and quiver of arrows, tipped with flint or jasper, and each carried a _mushkeemoot_ upon his back, provided with a small quant.i.ty of parched and pounded corn, mixed with a little pemmican or pounded meat. Each was furnished with a kind of stone knife, and a war-club of hard wood, fastened to a girth of deer-skin. In addition to this, some carried the ancient sheemaugun or Indian lance, consisting of a smooth pole above one fathom in length, with a spear of flint firmly tied on with splints of hard wood, bound down with deer's sinews. Thus equipped, and each warrior painted in a manner to suit his fancy, and ornamented with appropriate feathers, they repaired to the spot appointed for the war-dance.[A]

[Footnote A: See the description of this dance in a note to The Expedition of the Lenni Lenape in vol. ii.]

A level gra.s.sy plain extended for some distance from the lodge of Wanawosh, towards a point of land jutting into the lake. Lodges of green bark were promiscuously interspersed over this spot, with here and there a cl.u.s.ter of trees, or a solitary pine, which had escaped the fury of tempests for a thousand years. A belt of yellow sand skirted the lake sh.o.r.e in front, and a tall forest of oaks, pines, and poplars, formed the back-ground. In the centre of this green, stood a large pine, shattered and branchless from the conflicts of the elements, with a clear s.p.a.ce around, famous as the scene of the war-dance, time out of mind. Here the youths a.s.sembled with their tall and graceful leader, distinguished, not only by his bearing, but by the feathers of the white eagle, which he wore on his head. A bright fire of pine-wood blazed upon the green, throwing its gleams upon the surrounding darkness. The young warrior led his men twice or thrice in a circular manner around this fire, with a measured step and solemn chant. Then, suddenly halting, the war-whoop was raised, and the dance immediately begun. An old man, sitting at the head of the ring, beat time upon the drum, while the grim array of warriors made the woods re-echo with their yells. Each warrior chanted alternately the verse of a song, all the rest joining in chorus:--

The eagles scream on high; They whet their forked beaks; Raise--raise the battle-cry, 'Tis fame our leader seeks.

Thus they continued the dance for two days and nights, with short intermissions; when, dropping off, one by one, from the fire, each sought his several way to the place appointed for the rendezvous, on the confines of the enemy's country. A braver or more determined war-party never left the village of the Chippewas. Their leader was not among the last to depart; but he did not quit the village without bidding a tender adieu to the daughter of Wanawosh. He imparted to her his firm determination, to perform an act that should establish his name as a warrior, or die in the attempt. He told her of the hitter pangs he had felt at her father's taunts--that his soul spurned the imputations of effeminacy and cowardice, implied by his language. He declared, that he never could be happy, either with or without her, until he had proved to the whole tribe the strength of his heart, which is the Indian term for courage. He said, that his dreams had not been so propitious as he could wish; but that he should not cease to invoke the favour of the Great Spirit in his behalf. He repeated his protestations of inviolable attachment, which she returned, and, pledging vows of mutual fidelity, they separated.

They never met again. The war-party, which he led, were conducted by him to victory. After having distinguished himself by most heroic bravery, he received an arrow in his breast, just as the enemy had fled, with the loss of many of their best warriors. On examining his wound, it was perceived to be beyond the power of cure. He languished a short time, and expired in the arms of his friends.

From the hour that she received the intelligence of his death, from the moment that the ominous death-howl met her ear, no smile was ever seen in the once happy lodge of Wanawosh. His daughter pined away by day and by night. Tears and sighs sorrow and lamentations, were heard continually. No efforts to amuse were capable of restoring her lost serenity of mind. Persuasives and reproofs were alternately employed, but employed in vain. It became her favourite custom to fly to a sequestered spot in the woods, and there sit under a shady tree, and sing her mournful laments. She would do so for days together. The following fragment of one of these songs is yet repeated:--

Oh! how can I sing the praise of my love!

His spirit still lingers around me.

The gra.s.s which grows upon his bed of earth Is yet too low; Its sighs cannot be heard upon the wind.

Oh, he was beautiful!

And he was brave!

I must not break the silence, The quiet of his still retreat, Nor waste the time in song, When his spirit still whispers to mine.

I hear his gentle voice In the sounds of the newly-budded leaves; It tells me that he yet lingers near me; It says he loves in death Her whom he loved in life, Though deeply buried in the cold, cold earth.

Whisper, spirit, to me, whisper.

And I shall sing; my song, When the green gra.s.s answers to my plaint, When in sighs respond to my moan, Then my voice shall be heard in his praise: Linger, lover, linger!

Stay, spirit, stay!

The spirit of my love will soon leave me.

He goes to the land of joyful repose; He gees to prepare my bridal bower.

Sorrowing, I must wait, Until he comes, to call my soul away.

Hasten, lover, hasten!

Come, spirit, come!

Thus she daily repeated her plaintive song. It was not long before a small bird of beautiful plumage flew upon the tree, beneath which she usually sat, and, with its sweet and artless notes, seemed to respond to her voice. It was a bird of strange character, such as she had never seen before. It came every day and sang to her, remaining until it became dark. Her fond imagination soon led her to suppose that it was the spirit of her lover, and her visits to the favourite spot were repeated with greater frequency. She now gave herself up to singing and fasting. Thus she pined away, until that death which she had so fervently desired came to her relief. After her decease, the bird was never more seen. It became a popular opinion with her nation, that this mysterious bird had flown away with her soul to the land of bliss. But the bitter tears of remorse fell in the tent of Wanawosh, and he lived many years to regret his false pride and his harsh treatment of the unfortunate youth.