Indian Legends of Minnesota Part 3

Anon, as the cloud hosts fly Before the wind across the sky, The court of the queen is suddenly seen, With its pomp sublime and array Of sparkling and glittering sheen, More lovely than the light of day, More glorious than the twilight gleam That mingles with the sun's last beam Where the waves of ocean play.

By the river's bank a wandering band Have reared their teepee walls, Here where the warriors all may stand And view the mighty falls.

The ivory moon is mounting high, The lodge fires flicker low, And slumbering forms are visible by The embers' last faint glow, When lightly steps a youthful brave Out from the forest ways Into the star-roofed nave, Out from the shadowing trees (Leaves fluttering slow in the slow night breeze) Into the broad, revealing rays, Into the silvery glow.

With step as buoyant as the air He glides above the glistening sward; The largest, whitest teepee there Doth seem to center his regard, For there his unmarked path doth end, And there his burning glances send Their pa.s.sionate lightnings, wild, yet all Made reverent by the spot on which they fall.

This lodge doth tower Above the poles on every hand Like some strange chieftain o'er his band.

Why comes he at this hour?

Hath dark revenge a purpose here?

Shall b.l.o.o.d.y strife appear On such a scene? Ah, no! the power That spurs him hath a softer spell; For here the tribe's most cherished flower, The daughter of the chief, doth dwell.

His deep, rich voice floats down the glade, In soft, unwonted tones Like gentle winds through pine-tree cones; He sings the Warrior's Serenade; While at the end of every strain-- With more effect his cause to plead-- He plays a wild and shrill refrain Upon a flute of rude-cut reed.

_Lonely warbling bird of night!

Leave thy bough and perch above The silent, dewy folds of white That screen my sleeping love.

Drink the moonlight rays that fall Pure and mellow, like the beams Of starry eyes beyond my call, Far in the land of dreams.

Tell her I am brave and strong; Tell her I have loved her long; Singing softly, like a dove, Tell her all you know of love I cannot tell in song.

Tell her I am waiting here At the threshold of her bower; Winds are lifting far and near The sweets of every flower, All the stars are out in state, Music breathes in every stir, All of nature seems to wait For a glimpse of her.

Tell her I am brave and strong; Tell her I have loved her long; Singing softly like a dove, Tell her all you know of love I cannot tell in song._

Is it the wind that swings apart The deerskin door from the lodge away?

Is it a sudden leap of his heart That makes too vivid fancy play?

Or is it a nut-brown arm that holds The trembling folds, And are those liquid eyes that s.h.i.+ne Like diamonds fine?

Sing on, sing on, bold youth, And hope shall lead thee to the truth!

_She is lovelier than the sky, Sweeter than the freshest bud, I can no longer wait and sigh Here in the moonlight flood; All my heart is at her feet, All my strength at her behest; O sing, and bid her come to greet The one who loves her best!

Tell her I am brave and strong; Tell her I have loved her long; Singing softly, like a dove, Tell her all you know of love I cannot tell in song._

His manly voice entreating calls As softly as the dewdrop falls.

He ceases, and the night winds hush As if they too had waited long; The organ river's chanting rush Seems but an echo of his song.

And shall he wait and plead in vain?

Ah, no! love is not always pain; For see, the folds are drawn aside, And dimly there may be descried A shadowy form of shadowy grace, That halts while still in gloom arrayed, With eyes that light the tawny face And tresses darker than the shade.

O spell of song! O power and thrill Of love! O dream that sways The blood of youth, that feels no chill Till love betrays!

O hark! ye sprites that haunt this time,-- This quiet moon-lit hour, When Cupid weaves, in every clime, His web of subtlest power,-- O, can ye hear, and not rejoice, The music of a maiden's voice?

"Anpetusapa's glance would meet The night bird that can sing so sweet."

With what a bounding stride he goes!

With what a light his dark eye glows!

With what a look he seeks to fire Those gentle eyes with his desire!

"O multiply what voice reveals; The bird can sing not half it feels!

Too deep, too deep, to tell in words, And even too sweet for song of birds, Is pa.s.sion like this heart of mine Doth feel for thine!"

She lightly steps into the light, She gently lifts her gentle eyes, She flies not, though her heart takes flight And soars without disguise.

"I know thee; thou art strong and tall, Thy fearless deeds are known to all.

O may this eve be not more fair Than life to thee, is all my prayer."

His mighty sinews, sternly trained, Are now with manly grace restrained, And the fortunate touch of a fairy's wand Far ruder would seem than the touch of his hand; And the light of his eye like a streamlet doth flow Where pa.s.sion and tenderness mingle and flash On the dancing ripples, whose murmuring low From his lips seem to dash A faithful, harmonious echo:

"Of happiness all my life will tell If thou in my lodge doth dwell.

Oh! couldst thou but know The new, the glad, the tender glow That warms my heart, so fiercely brave When breasting battle's fiercest wave-- Couldst thou but feel it pulse and bound Whene'er my ear is charmed to hear Thy gentle tongue's melodious sound-- Couldst thou but see how these fond eyes Rejoice to look upon thy face When like a dream before them rise Thy matchless form and wondrous grace-- How deeply, thirstily they drink Thy dew-bright eyes, whose flas.h.i.+ng glance Doth like a luring firefly dance (Along an island's shadowy brink Where rippling waters, restless waters, Sing their low, unchanging song Upon the pebbles all night long).

Thou art a flower whose smile hath made A sunbeam pierce the forest shade; Thou art a rose that fragrant grows To beautify the darksome glade And sweeten every breeze that blows.

Anpetusapa! wilt thou give The promise that shall make me live As I have never lived before?

I love thee, and the powers divine Shall teach thy heart to pulse with mine, And bless our union evermore While moons shall pa.s.s or starlight s.h.i.+ne."

The guardian bosom of her lover Serves well her modest blush to cover; Her willowy arms about him twine As closely as the greenwood vine Doth hang upon the towering oak, That holds it safe from every stroke And proudly shelters the delicate form From all the buffets of the storm.

The moon and every heavenly gem Now seem to s.h.i.+ne alone for them.

O Time! why must thou speed away?

For knowest thou not that present joy Bears no increase for such as they, For whom all change must bring alloy?

And thou, young Love! canst thou not make A lonely Eden for their sake?

'Tis better that but two should find Gladness of heart and peace of mind, Than all the greater sum of life-- With burning hearts that fates unbind And crowding thoughts that gender strife.

But no, the gift of life is one Of strangest form, of blended tints And crossing lines, with mingled hints Of glory from an unseen sun; And shades that hourly darker grow For those who seek that sun to know;-- And they must take the whole or none.

So they must wake to memory Of other things, so they must be Reminded of the powers that hold Their future lives, to rule and mold.

"Anpetusapa need not name The glory of her father's fame; He is a mighty chief, and none Too quickly will he choose a son."

"O fear not, my blossom, For he shall not see The flower of his bosom Mismated with me.

Where war-whoops are sounding Their blood-stirring call, There I shall go bounding The foremost of all.

When foemen shall fly me And chiefs call me brave, He will not deny me The boon I shall crave."

"Yes, thou art brave for one so young; This voice of mine thy feats hath sung When from the war-path thou returned On which thy first renown was earned.

If my poor love can make thy bliss, My service give the happier life, All hope shall dwell in one kind kiss For thine eternal-loving wife."

"O blessed promise! future bright!

This feeble tongue of mine can never Reveal how dear thou art to-night, How cherished thou shalt be forever!"

The chief approved the suitor bold, And for rich goods his daughter sold.

She thought not of the trade, but went To her young lord with true content, And while she dreamed of joy to come Her heart was full, her lips were dumb; And day by day her task was wrought, Each hour with self-denial fraught; His wants were met, his lodge was trim, Her patient thoughts were all for him.

The powers divine did seem to bless The promise of his wild caress; And so the happy moons flew by, Till new refulgence filled her sky When there appeared a baby boy, Whose laugh o'erflowed her cup of joy; For this must prove, she could but feel, A bond between them strong as steel.

Alas, thou too confiding wife, What clouds were gathering o'er thy life!

For vanity alone will stay With human nature to the last; Each happy day will slip away Into the valleys of the past, Returning but a ghostly thing When the spirit drinks at Memory's spring.

Why did he vow to cherish ever?

Or why allow his heart to change?

What maid was she who came to sever Thy love and thee? What magic strange Had she to work her strange endeavor?

What mind shall solve the mystery Of loves that come and loves that flee?

Why should Anpetusapa give Her heart's whole life, her richest treasure, To one whose boasted flame could live Through but a dozen moons' small measure; Whose pa.s.sion was for selfish pleasure?

Yet so it was; another came Her heart to cloud, her place to claim.

Her lodge became another's nest; The first wife, she was second now; 'Neath custom's yoke compelled to bow And see her rival fondly pressed.

The death gloom settled on her brow, Day brought no sun, the night no rest.

The beam of sadness lit her eye, And memories that could never die Until her body, void of breath, Became the precious spoil of Death.

Morn after morn beheld her still Slow sinking, like a mountain rill Whose fountain-head, once bubbling bright, Hath dried away, and left the white And pulseless sand to mark where long Began the sparkle and the song.