Part 25

(2)The skirts the Northern clouds.--p. 250.

"The idea which the Southern Indians have of the Aurora Borealis is very pleasing and romantic. They believe it to be the spirit of their departed friends dancing in the clouds, and when the Aurora Borealis is remarkably bright, at which time it varies most in colour, form, and situation, they say their friends are very merry."--Hearne,346. And see the tradition post.

"The Northern Indians call this meteor by a less romantic name--Ed-thin, that is, "deer;" and, when that meteor is very bright, they say, that deer is plentiful in that part of the atmosphere. Their ideas, in this respect, are founded on a principle one would not imagine them to possess a knowledge of. Experience has shown them, that, when a hairy deer-skin is briskly stroked with a hand in a dark night, it will emit many sparks of electric fire, as the back of a cat will."--Ibid.

V. THE LITTLE WHITE DOVE.

I have heard the words of the son of the Chepewyan, and the tale he has told of the Happy Island, and the Stone Canoe. It is the belief of his fathers, and he does well to treasure it up in his soul. The Knisteneaux have too their land of delight. It is in a different clime from that of the Chepewyan--how could it be, and continue a land of delight? Wars would arise between these ancient and implacable enemies, and the peace and quiet of the blessed regions be destroyed by their cries of hatred and revenge. Ask a Knisteneau to throw away his war-spear with a Chepewyan in his hunting-grounds? Ask a Chepewyan to wipe off his war-paint while there was the print of a Knisteneau mocassin in his war-path? The Great Spirit, knowing the impossibility of reconciling the jarring tribes of the Wilderness, appointed to each tribe or nation its place of happiness, and placed, between each, impassable barriers, that wars enkindled on earth might not be transferred to the Land of Souls.

The "Foot of the Fawn," the most beautiful woman of the nation, and the beloved wife of the great chief, died suddenly of the labour of nature in the Moon of Buds. The body of the deceased mother, dressed in the best garments she possessed, the robe of white fox-skin with the embroidered sandals of dressed deer-skin, the feathers with which she used to deck her long black hair, and the bracelets of pierced bones which encircled her slender wrists, were placed in the grave lined with pine branches. They buried with her all the domestic utensils she had used, and all the articles she was known to have prized. While they were filling in the earth into her grave, and erecting over it the canopy to protect it from the rains and the winds, loud were the lamentations which filled the air. They spoke of her patience, her industry, her care of her family, her love of her husband, her kindness and pity to the sick and afflicted, her benevolence to the stranger. The child, in giving birth to which she had died, was buried, according to the custom of our nation, by the side of the public footpath, or highway, that, having enjoyed but little life, merely seen the light of the sun to have its eye pained by its beams, some woman as she passed by might receive its little soul, and thus it might be born again, and still enjoy its share of existence. With these rites were the wife and child of the great chief of the Knisteneaux laid in the earth from whence they sprung.

It was many suns after the decease of the beloved Fawn's Foot, that two doves, one of which was of the size of a full grown dove, and the other a very little one, were seen sitting upon a spray by the side of the warrior's lodge. Our people, who recollected the tradition of our fathers, that the souls of the good, after their entrance upon the land of never-ceasing happiness, were transformed into doves, and that not always were little children appointed to be received into the bosom of a second mother, and to re-enter into another stage of existence, immediately conjectured that they were the spirits of the mother and the child returned to the land of their bodies, on some errand yet to be learned. They knew by the tradition of their fathers, that they had entered on the Land of Souls, for the Festival of the Dead had been celebrated, and all the rites duly observed which release the soul from its compelled attendance on the body, until the baked meats have been eaten, and the howling and the piercing of flesh, and the tearing of hair, and the weeping in secret, have taken place. "They have come! they have come! The Fawn's Foot and her child have returned from the Land of Souls," was shouted through the village. "The beautiful Fawn's Foot and her child, that disdained to be born again, but clung to its first mother, have returned to visit us, and tell us the secrets of the land of departed souls. Now we shall hear from our fathers, mothers, children, sisters, brothers, lovers, and friends. We shall be told the length of the journey to the Cheke Checkecame, and whether the traveller thither must take him stores of provisions, and go armed. We shall know if the soul of the Little Serpent, who was taken prisoner by the Coppermines, and burnt at the stake, is yet subjected to the pinches and goadings of the bad spirits in the place of torment prepared for those who die the death of fire; we shall hear about the Great Dog which stands on the hither bank of the river, over which all must pass who would enter on the land of spirits, to guard it against the approach of those who break from their chains in the place of torment before the expiation is duly made, and attempt, with impure hands, to lay hold of the pleasures of the happy regions." Thus they ran about the village, shouting and singing, until all the people were collected together, and then they moved in a procession towards the tree upon which the doves were perched. They found them--beautiful birds! but they were not birds, but souls changed into the form which betokens innocence and purity; they found them, and long and earnestly did they gaze upon the tenderly beloved beings they had formerly been, the pure souls they now were. The happiness they enjoyed in their present state was seen in their eyes, which were mild and beautiful beyond my power to tell. And great appeared the love subsisting between them. The little dovelet hopped on the back of its parent, who playfully pecked it in return, and often were the eyes of the child turned fondly on its mother, as if thanking her for the existence she had bestowed upon it, at the expense of her own life. Glorious birds with soft eyes, and skyey plumage! never hath aught so beautiful been seen in the land of the Knisteneaux.

At length the bereaved husband and father made his appearance, slowly and with eyes which would have shed tears, had they been other than those of a warrior. No sooner was he in view, than the little wings of the doves were rapidly fanning the air towards him. One, the lesser, and scarce larger than a fly, lighted on his lip, the larger crept to his bosom, as it was wont to do in life, and was fondly pressed to his heart, which loved the form it bore when living, and deeply cherished its memory, and hailed its return to the earth, in a new shape, with inconceivable delight. Having nestled awhile in his bosom, the soul of the good and beautiful Fawn's Foot perched upon his shoulders, and thus addressed the listening Knisteneaux:

"I am one of the souls of the Fawn's Foot, who died of the labour of nature, in the Moon of Buds, and the little dove at my side is the spirit of my child. It is an old tradition of our fathers, and will not therefore surprise you, that every person is gifted by the Great Master of Life with two souls. One of these souls, which is the breath, never leaves the body, but to go into another, which nevertheless seldom happens, save to that of children, which, having enjoyed but little life, is allowed to begin a new one, and live out a second and more protracted term of existence. When the breath departs from the body, the other soul goes to the region which is appointed to be the everlasting abode of the Knisteneaux. It is situated very far towards the setting sun, so far, that even those souls which are pardoned are many moons reaching it. Many dangers are to be encountered before the souls bound thither arrive. They first come to the place of torment, appointed for the souls of those who have been taken prisoners and burnt. They pass a river where many have been wrecked, and at length come to another, at the hither edge of which lies a dog of immense proportions, which attacks indiscriminately every one that attempts to cross. The souls whose good deeds outweigh the bad are assisted by the Good Spirit to overcome the dog, while the bad, conquered by him in the conflict, are incessantly worried by him thereafter. The next place of danger and dread, is the country where the spirits of the beasts, birds, fishes, &c.--all animate nature which is not man--is found. Here are the spirits of bears, and wolves, and snakes, all that is cruel, or bloody, or hideous. And these are sure to give battle to the shades of the human beings, as they cross the lands and waters where they dwell. The punishment they inflict consists alone in the terror they excite, for the jaws, so thickly studded with teeth, are but a shadow, and the claws could only retain in their grasp a shade. The dwelling place of the souls of the brutes has its enjoyments and pleasures suited to their tastes. The snail, that delights to crawl in slime, will have full permission to do so; the tortoise, and the prairie dog, and the mole, may still creep into the earth if they choose, and the squirrel still suspend himself by his tail from the bough of the tree. If the bear choose to suck his claws, none shall say him nay, and the neeshaw may bury himself as deep in the mud as he likes.

"At length the souls arrive at the region where they are destined to spread their tents for ever. I have heard from the lips of our fathers of its pleasures and its joys; all are well and truly described in your old tradition. Happiness and rest are for the good, misery and labour for the bad. Bright skies, eternal springs, and plenty of all things, reward him who did his duty well; continual storms, endless winter, parching thirst, pinching hunger, and crying nakedness, punish him who performed them ill. Men and women of my nation! forsake evil ways, and earn, by so doing, unbounded happiness. Hunter, dread not the bear, and be patient and industrious; warrior, fear not thine enemy, and shouldst thou unhappily fall into his power, bear his torments as a warrior should bear them, and sing thy death-song in the ears of his tribe. And thou, my beloved husband, persevere for a few more moons in the course which made thee the light of my eyes while living, and renders thee not less dear now I inhabit the world of spirits. Thou wilt soon rejoin the souls of thy wife and child in the land of unceasing delights. Till then, farewell."

Having spoken thus, the little doves flung out their skyey wings to catch the breath of the Great Spirit sent to waft them home, and were soon swept away from the sight of the Knisteneaux. Not so their tale, which has resisted the current of time, and survives in the memories of all our nation.

VI. THE TETON'S PARADISE.

If my brother will go abroad in a clear evening in the Moon of Falling Leaves, and turn his eyes towards the cold regions of the Hunter's Star, and the north wind, and the never-melting snows, he will often see the skies flushed with a hue like that which mounts to the cheeks of a young maiden, when the name of her lover is whispered in her ear, or when that same lover presses her to his heart in the presence of curious eyes and slandering tongues. At first, he will see a faint beam darting up in the north, like the spray which shoots into the air, when the waters dash upon a rocky frontlet. Gradually he will behold it arise, till half the heavens, and sometimes the whole, is lit up with exceeding brightness. Then will he hear in the skies a noise as of half-suppressed laughter, and sometimes, though more rarely, he will behold the light-winged aerial forms of the merry laughers, as they thread the mazes of their dance among the clustering stars. The sight fills the soul of an Indian with great joy, for he thinks that it is occasioned by the spirits of his departed friends, indulging in the sport they loved so well on earth, and dancing merrily to the music of the stars. The red blush which tinges the face of night with a hue like that which mounts to the cheeks of a beautiful maiden, when the name of her beloved youth is whispered in her ear, is the flame which arises from the fires kindled by the kind spirits of the north, to thaw the frozen mist which impedes their light footsteps across the face of the heavens. And the laugh is the laugh of eager joy, which those spirits utter when, indulging in their loved pastime, they remember the occurrence which led to their glorious destiny, and made the bright and starry north their place of residence after death.

Once upon a time, the tribe of the Burntwood Tetons had assembled to hold a merry feast and joyful dance upon the coming-in of the green corn. It was a season of unusual plenty; the stalks of maize had grown almost to the height and thickness of the surrounding trees, and the ears thereon were many, sound, and sweet. Not only was this best beloved food of the Indian in great plenty, but every thing else which contributes to the enjoyment of Indian life, and makes the red man happy, was in equal abundance. Every bush was loaded with rich, ripe berries; and never, in the memory of the oldest Teton, had the woods been so stocked with game, or the waters so frequently made to ripple with the gambols of the nimble fish. The boy of twelve summers could feed all his father's children with the spoils of his feeble bow and tiny arrows, and the daughter of six would pluck more berries from the prairie and hill-side, in the space of half a sun, than could be eaten in her father's cabin by its hungry inmates for four sleeps. The Moon of Planting saw the Great Spirit in good humour with his children, the Tetons, because they had kept his commands, as laid down by his priests and prophets: the Moon of Green Corn found him equally pleased and gracious. Thence it was that he had showered prosperity upon all the undertakings of our nation, and thence that he had given to our corn to grow up like trees, and made the feet of our young warriors swift in the chase, and their hearts strong in the combat, and had given to our maidens the power to win, by their soft smiles and softer words, and endearing glances, and whispers of affection, the hearts of whomsoever they would. The Great Spirit loves to bestow gifts upon mortals, and to see them happy, and never withholds his blessings from them when they have duly besought his aid, and remembered to walk in the path he has pointed out to them. When our tribe drove the Mahas from their hunting-grounds, and came back with many scalps, it was because they invoked his protection ere they went, and offered him frequent sacrifices--when they left the bones of half their warriors to whiten on the prairies which skirt the distant Wisconsan, it was because, in the pride of their hearts, they remembered him not, and forgot that death and destruction go before the steps of the hardened and contumacious.

I have said, that the warriors of my nation had assembled to the dance and the feast. They had, and there were gathered together with them that part of the tribe which better loved the pursuits of peace than those of war--were better pleased to gather in the maize and nuts of autumn, and to spear the gliding tenants of the waters, and to follow the trail of the deer through the leafy coverts which he makes his hiding-place, than to join in the tumult, and fatigues, and bloodshed, of the strife of men. While the blithe young warriors danced their dance, the crowd around them, from time to time, approved of their performances, by loud and oft-repeated shouts of joy and delight. They said, that more expert and graceful dancers had never been seen in the tribe, and predicted, that limbs so light and agile in the dance, and eyes so true in directing the spear to the painted post, around which they were dancing, must needs show their agility and truth in the first expedition they should undertake against a foe. And the young maidens--those whose praise is sweetest, at least to the ears of youth--were equally loud in their commendations of the sprightly Tetons, who were worshipping the Master of Life in the manner supposed to be the most acceptable to him.

While our people were thus employed in their worship and dance, although it was the hottest month of summer, and the day was one of singular and overpowering heat, they were surprised and terrified by a sudden darkness, accompanied by a great fall of snow and hail. All at once, to their unspeakable consternation and confusion, there stood, in the centre of the space around which the dance was danced, a spirit of the air, wearing the form and proportions of a woman of exceeding beauty. White and pure was her skin, as the snow ere it touches the earth; her hair, which flowed to her knees in many folds, was white as the snow which was falling around her; but her eyes were blue as the sky from which she had taken her flight, and these alone, of all that appertained to her, were of a different hue from the snows which had accompanied her descent to the earth. She was of the usual height of the women of our nation, and more beautiful than any thing that had ever entered into the imagination of mortals. In a moment the dance was suspended, and, throughout the camp of the Tetons, not a voice or sound was heard, save the hushed respiration of the terrified and astonished crowd, as they gazed upon the beautiful and majestic spirit. Awhile it stood in earnest but tranquil look upon the silent warriors, and then spoke in whispers the words which I shall repeat to my brothers:

"Men of the Burntwood Tetons! I am the chief spirit of the Land of Snows--the power which, by the decree of the Great Being, presides over the regions of ice and frost. I have come from my dwelling in the far north, to look upon the brave and good Tetons, and to behold the dances which they are so famed for dancing, and to see with my own eyes their skill in shooting with the bow, and throwing the spear, and their strength in wielding the war-club, and their patience under afflictions, and their endurance of fatigue, and hunger, and cold, and want. I had heard in my dwelling-place in the bright skies that they were the best and bravest of men; I shall see if the report is true. But not for this alone have I left the glorious regions of the north; I have suffered myself to be coaxed to the earth, by a wish to feel in my bosom the workings of that soft passion, which possesses both mortals and immortals--things of the earth, and the air--and sometimes blesses with joy and happiness, but oftener afflicts with pain and misery, and days of anxiety, and nights of anguish, those whose lot it is to make it the all-controlling guest of their bosoms; thou knowest that I mean the almighty passion of love. Although I dwell in the regions of eternal frost and never-melting snows, yet would I that my bosom should feel the gentle flame; though my flesh be of the consistence and coldness of ice, I would feel the raging of a fire like that which exists in the bosoms of those who love to madness. I, who lived in the skies many, very many, ages before the Elder Chappewee brought up the earth from the bottom of the ocean to the present hour, without a touch of human passion--who never knew or wished to know joy or sorrow, hope or despair, pleasure or pain, melancholy, regret, anger, disappointment, or aught that elevates or depresses the souls of mortals--would now partake of all and each in an equal degree with the children of the earth. I would have my bosom torn with the conflicting passions of humanity--be chilled with the horrid doubts of jealousy, and with agonising fears for the duration of the affection which will become a part of my existence."

Here the Spirit of Snow ceased speaking, while her tears fell thick and fast in the shape of frozen rain upon the Tetons. Seeing the emotion of the beautiful Spirit, and fearing that further silence on the part of the tribe whom she had come to visit might be offensive to her, the aged Nikanape, who was wisest of all the men of the land, rose and addressed her thus:

"Beautiful Spirit of the Land of Snows! Thou wouldst feel, thou sayest, the passion of love, and wouldst admit to thy bosom a soft feeling of preference for one dearer than all the other beings of earth. Although thou art a spirit, and shouldst be wise, yet, to judge from thy speech--be not offended--the words of an aged Teton may better thy wisdom. They whose bosoms are not afflicted by the passions of humanity, who know neither love nor hate, nor joy nor sorrow, nor revenge nor pity, nor anger, nor the other passions and emotions which distract human life, and reduce it to a few brief and unhappy years, have only to pray that the Great Spirit would keep them in their happy state of ignorance. Why wouldst thou love?"

"To know its pleasures."

"They are fewer than the throbs of fear in the breast of a true warrior, and shorter lived than the flower that blooms to-day, and to-morrow is blasted by the unwholesome dew."

"I would know its pains."

"They are more numerous than the fire-flies which light up a summer prairie, and die but with the being who entertains the passion upon which they attend."

"I have seen otherwise. Once, while keeping my night-watch in my own clime of snows, I beheld the return of one to the embrace of a maiden from whom he had long been separated. I saw the eager flush of delight on her cheek, as she rushed into his outstretched arms, and beheld the sweet kisses of affection which were interchanged between the enraptured pair, and heard the thrilling words of heartfelt tenderness which these two did murmur in each other's ears. Was not this happiness?"

"It was."

"Would he not do well who should exchange a space of time equal to thrice the years of a brown eagle, of existence so passionless as mine, for one moon of happiness like that which those lovers enjoyed?"

"The great prophet of the Tetons is a man of few words. He sees the Spirit of the Land of Snows determined to become a mortal, and why should he seek to change her mind? May it be the happy lot of a man of his nation to gain the affections of a being so beautiful as thou art! Speak, fair Spirit! my people listen in anxious hope that thou wilt call some Teton youth to thine arms."

Softly, and with a fearful look did the unearthly maiden make reply to the Teton prophet. "I saw from my place in the land of frost one whom I deemed worthy to be the husband of her at whose command the snows descend upon the earth, and the waters are locked up with a chain, the rivets of which can only be unclasped by the warm sun of summer. I beheld him, in my eyes, the bravest of all thy warriors. None hath so fleet a foot, none so sure a hand, none so fair a cheek, none so stately a form."