“O nymph, with loosely flowing hair,
With buskined leg, and bosom bare,
Thy waist with myrtle girdle bound,
Thy brow with Indian feathers crowned,
Waving in thy snowy hand
An all-commanding magic wand
Of power, to bid fresh gardens blow,
Mid cheerless Lapland’s barren snow!”

JOSEPH WARTON.

Bernard and his sister, on their arrival, found only Mr. Armstrong and his daughter, but were joined, in the course of the evening, by Pownal, at whose arrival all expressed pleasure. The whole company united with Miss Armstrong in requesting Bernard to read the legend, who, at last, produced the manuscript from his pocket.

“I must entreat your indulgence,” he said, “for the defects of which the piece is full. The author is an inexperienced writer, and unable, like an accomplished hand, to atone by elegance of style for improbability or poverty of incident. You will expect no more than that he should observe the proprieties of his subject, nor require him to introduce into a tale of the children of Nature the refinement of language or delicacy of sentiment, to be met with in the modern romance. The stories of an uncivilized people must be rude, even approaching in simplicity tales designed for children.”

“The writer could not have an audience more ready to be pleased,” said Mr. Armstrong; “and are we not all children of various growths?”

“I do not believe any excuses are necessary,” said Faith, “and am expecting a great deal of pleasure.”

“The more extravagant, the better,” cried Anne. “What can equal the Arabian Nights Entertainment?”

“We are all attention,” said Pownal; “so whistle your apprehensions, Bernard, to the wind.”

Thus encouraged, the young man opened his manuscript, and commenced reading.

THE LEGEND OF MAGISAUNIKWA AND LEELINAU.

Where the clear Sakimau mingles its waters with the great salt lake, which would be too salt, but for the innumerable rivers that pour themselves into its bosom, the mighty Aishkwagon-aï-bee, whose name, rendered into the language of the pale faces, is the ’Feather of Honor,’ had erected his lodge. He was the war-chief of a tribe whose name is lost in the mists of antiquity. He boasted his descent from the great Ojeeg, of whom it is related that he opened a hole in the blue sky and let out the soft, warm air of Paradise, so that it poured down upon the earth, and bestowed summer upon a region before condemned to perpetual cold. He also liberated the singing-birds from the mocucks, or basket-cages, where they were confined, which, descending through the aperture, have since enlivened the woods and fields with their melodies. He was unable to return to this world, and may still be seen in the heavens, being changed into the stars called Ojeeg Annung, known to the wise men among the pale faces as the Constellation of the Plough.

Nor was Aishkwagon-aï-bee unworthy of his noble descent. The grandeur of his thoughts and the boldness of his achievements proved the purity of his blood. A skillful hunter, a successful warrior, equally renowned for wisdom in council and bravery in action, he enjoyed the highest consideration, not only in his own tribe, but as far as the great lakes to the North, and the river Delaware to the South. When he pointed to the beautiful scalps that adorned the sides of his wigwam, he could with truth say, there was not one of them but had graced the head of a warrior.

The Sachem had several children, sons and daughters, and among the latter, the lovely Leelinau was the darling of his heart. The maiden had attained the age of eighteen, and was the admiration of the youth for many days’ journey round. Her cheeks were the color of the wild honey-suckle, her lips like strawberries, and the juice of the milk-weed was not whiter than her teeth. Her form was lith as the willow, her eyes sparkled like the morning star, her step was that of a bounding fawn, and her fingers were skilful in weaving the quills of the porcupine. What wonder if hearts both young and old beat quicker at her approach?

Many, it may well be supposed, were the offers of marriage made to the beautiful Leelinau. Innumerable were the legs of venison, and choice pieces of bear’s meat, which the mothers of the young hunters presented for acceptance at her lodge, being careful to mention whose skill in the chase procured them, but in vain did they look for the bowl of succatash or embroidered moccasins the products of woman’s labor in token that their gifts were pleasing to the coy beauty. In vain, when the shades of evening fell, the softly breathed flute lamented in melancholy tones her cruelty. In vain, with tasteful hand, the sighing lover painted his face and person to heighten his attractions and draw attention. The insensible Leelinau relished not the venison or bear’s meat, nor would she listen to the flute, or look often at the painted suitors.

Among her admirers none was more deeply smitten by the power of her charms nor cherished a truer love than Magisaunikwa or Wampum-hair, so called from the gentleness of his disposition and love of peace. He was only a few years the senior of the maiden, and of an obscure family compared with that of the famous Aishkwagon-aï-bee. But love levels all distinctions, and, impelled by an influence he could not withstand, he dared to aspire to the hand of Leelinau. Besides, there was one superiority he enjoyed which made the claim less presumptuous. Young as he was no hunter of the tribe could be compared with him in skill or daring. Other lodges might be destitute, but there was always abundance of meat in that of Magisaunikwa and those of his friends. Happy, thought most of the girls, would she be who should lie in the bosom of the young hunter, and cook his food.

But notwithstanding his devotion, Leelinau would not accept his gifts. Still he fancied he had made some impression. She would listen to his conversation by the light of the evening star, though whenever he hinted at his passion, she would hastily retire; and twice or thrice he had caught her eyes fixed on him, when she thought herself unobserved. Hope lives on scanty aliment, and the young man did not despair.

Aishkwagon-aï-bee had noticed the liking of Magisaunikwa for his daughter, and was not displeased. The noble youth had found favor in his eyes, and he did not disdain his alliance. There was only a single cause of hesitation in his mind. Wampum-hair had never been on a war-path, and had always shown a disinclination to shed human blood. Yet his courage was undoubted. None encountered with more audacity the panther and the bear, and several were the lives he had saved at the hazard of his own. A successful war expedition only was necessary to complete his claims to the highest honors. Save the bloody scalp, no ornament was lacking in his wigwam.

“Magisaunikwa,” said the Sachem, “the fire of your eyes melts not the snow around the heart of Leelinau, and it is because she looks upon your hands and sees they were never painted with the blood of an enemy.”

“Can Leelinau be happier.” asked the young hunter, “because another is made miserable? Were I to kill a warrior for her sake, would not her dreams be disturbed by the groans of his mother?”

The eyes of the Sachem flashed when he heard such language.

“Go,” he said, “if thou art a dove, seek not to mate with the hawk.”

But the resolution of Wampum-hair was not to be shaken by threats or reproaches, nor weakened by the seductions of love. In the long and final fast which revealed to him his guardian spirit, twelve days with unshaken fortitude, to the wonder of the tribe, had he remained without food before the vision came. He then beheld a child white as the water-lily leading a little animal unknown to the country. It was the size of the beaver, and covered all over with long white hair that curled closely to its body. Its eyes were mild and sweet, and the expression of its face gentler than anything ever seen on earth. The child laid his hand on the heart of the fainting youth, and an influence soft as the breath of the south wind streamed through his frame, and he was strengthened, and stood upon his feet and partook of food. Since then the war-song had been hateful to the ears of Wampum-hair, and he loathed the vauntings of the braves. He preached peace to his people, and endeavored to convince them of the folly of killing their fellow men. But prejudices old as the mountains were not to be removed by the exhortations or arguments of an obscure youth; and although the old men listened, and some few approved, yet the young men scoffed and burned to distinguish themselves after the manner of their ancestors. It was fortunate for the young man that opportunities had occurred to test his courage, and that he had never hesitated when others flinched. His tribe therefore ascribed his conduct to no want of bravery, but to a delusion sent by his guardian genius. Hence, though his influence was impaired, it was not entirely destroyed.

Thus things continued for some time, till one day the Sachem again addressed Wampum-hair.

“Does the heart of Magisaunikwa still beat softly, like the heart of a deer!”

“It beats like a man’s,” said the young hunter, “and not like that of a vile wild beast. The Indian should imitate the Good Spirit in his actions, and not destroy his brothers and sisters”

“Yes,” said the Sachem, “his heart is a man’s, though it is soft. Does Wampum-hair still love Leelinau?”

“The breath of Thequan is not more welcome to the wood-flower which it wakes up to life, or the song of the bird dearer to its mate, than the sight of Leelinau to Magisaunikwa.”

“What would Wampum-hair do to obtain her love?”

“He would climb the sky, or dive to the bottom of the salt lake; all that the Great Spirit could ask would he do.”

“A chief cannot compel the affection of his daughter, but he can give his own consent, and the young bird listens to the voice of its parent.”

“Let the great chief say what he would have, and the arm of Wampum-hair shall be strong to do his will. For the sake of Leelinau he would please her father.”

The Sachem paused, and gazed with pleasure on the kindling features of the young man. He was a wise chief, and desired the good of his people. In those days the panthers, driven from the north by a severe winter, infested the country in great numbers, and threatened to destroy the game, on which the Indians depended for subsistence. Although many had been killed, there still remained enough to ravage the land and do serious injury; and they had become so cunning by being frequently hunted that they almost uniformly succeeded in eluding the chase. It would be a public service, though a difficult undertaking, to exterminate the ravenous animals. He therefore said:

“Let Magisaunikwa bring me a conaus made of the scalps of panthers, and another for Leelinau, and he shall have the strong word of a chief to whisper commendations of the hunter in the ears of the maiden.”

“It is well. The words of the great chief are pleasant, and my ears drink them up as the thirsty sand the drops of rain. The feet of Wampum-hair are swift; his arrows are true, and they shall pierce the screaming panther.”

That same day, so eager was the young hunter to commence the chase, he started for those parts of the forest where the game was most likely to be found. Many were the beasts destroyed by him, so that a little child might wander in security ten days’ journey, in every direction, from the lodge of the Sachem, and narrow were the escapes from death of the intrepid hunter, and yet scarcely scalps enough were obtained to make a conaus or wrapper for the sloping shoulders of Leelinau. In vain, the enamored youth extended his hunt still further, even twenty days’ journey from his starting point. Only at long intervals was a beast discovered, but, finally, not one was to be found, and the youth awoke to the conviction that he had been made a dupe to the cunning of the Sachem.

After a fruitless chase he was musing one day sorrowfully over his disappointed hopes, ashamed to go back to his village, to which he had never returned without success before, when, suddenly, a man of majestic presence stood before him. His nose was like the beak of an eagle, and his eyes resembled fires in a dark night. Strange feathers, of brilliant colors, were woven into his scalp-lock; a magnificent robe of skins depended from his shoulders; and in his hand he held a long spear, tipped with a pointed stone.

“My brother is sad,” he said. “Let my brother give me the half of his grief to bear.”

Thus exhorted, Magisaunikwa disclosed the cause of his dejection to his sympathizing friend.

“Is that all?” said the stranger. “Return, and thou shalt find the conaus in thy lodge, and when thou beholdest them, remember they are the gift of Manabozho. I am Manabozho.”

He spoke, and before the astonished hunter had time to thank him, vanished from his sight. Then the young man knew that he had conversed with the capricious Manito, and with full faith and light heart, he directed his steps homeward.

He found the two conaus in his wigwam, according to the promise of the Manito. One he presented to the chief, and the other he offered to the maiden, but she refused to accept the tribute of his devotion.

The astonishment of Aishkwagon-aï-bee, and of the whole tribe, is not to be conceived, and the fame of Wampum-hair mounted to the stars. The truthful chief spoke earnestly to his daughter, of the merits of her lover, and proposed him for her husband, but Leelinau showed the strongest aversion to the union. The haughty maiden inherited the fierce temper of her father, without his wisdom, and she looked with contempt on all not distinguished by high descent or bloody deeds, nor in her soaring pride was there one of the young men of the tribe worthy of her hand. Not that there were not youthful warriors who could point to the evidences of their prowess, and whose names were familiar to the song, but in every instance the difficult beauty had found some objection, and turned away her head. The truth is, the west wind, that entices the flowers from the ground in spring, and leads the bird to its mate, had never breathed upon the heart of Leelinau.

But the time finally came when the maiden was constrained to make a choice. Her family had become impatient of delay, and Leelinau yielded to their remonstrances. It was only in appearance, however, that she acquiesced in the wishes of her relatives. She determined to propose, as the price of her hand, some enterprise too difficult to be accomplished. She represented to her father that lightly won, was lightly prized, and that the daughter of a great chief like him, was not to be wooed like other maidens, and obtained from him, to whom her voice was sweeter than the notes of the mocking-bird, his consent to her scheme.

The conditions on which Leelinau consented to follow a husband to his lodge were soon known. Only him would she acknowledge for her lord, who should guide his canoe in safety from the head of the Falls of the Yaupaae to the little islands below. The old men shook their heads when they heard the terms, and the squaws said, her heart must be made of stone, but the young men felt warm, and thought of trying their fortunes.

The enterprise was more difficult than any Manabozho had undertaken. When the river was low, it poured almost perpendicularly down, a height of twenty feet, on rocks, thrusting sharp points into the air, then bounded in sinuous windings through rifts and basins, made by the constant beating of the water, and the attrition of stones, whirled round in the cavities, to dash over a declivity of yet other rocks, before it reached its calm welcome below. When swollen by rains the rocks were all hidden, the perpendicular fall disappeared, it was as if the Great Salt Lake were pouring down the side of the mountain, and from top to bottom was all one vast mass of foam, lashing the huge rock at the throat, around which the torrent turned with a sudden bend. No canoe could live on such a cataract. It must be overturned and engulfed long before reaching the bottom, or if those perils were, by any wonderful chance, escaped, inevitable destruction awaited the presumptuous adventurer, dashed against the rock at the bottom.

The lovers of Leelinau gazed at the Fall, but the more they considered the less inclination they felt to encounter the danger. In a low stage of the water the canoe would be overturned, and pierced by the sharp rocks, while mangled limbs certainly, if not death, must be the doom of the rash aspirant, and who would dare to brave the terrors of the swollen river?

The eyes of Leelinau were bright, and her smile sweet, but there were other maidens with bright eyes and sweet smiles, and less difficult to please.

But not thus felt Magisaunikwa. The absorbing passion swallowed up all considerations of prudence, and he resolved to undertake the adventure. If he perished, the Great Spirit would be pleased with his courage, and what was life without Leelinau? While thoughts like these passed through his mind, he remembered Manabozho. He had assisted him once, although in vain, why not a second time? He sought once more the recesses of the forest, where he had met him, and called upon his name, but no answer was returned. He kindled a fire and threw upon it the fragrant tobacco, and called again, “Ho! Manabozho!” and the majestic figure stood before him, but there was anger on his brow. To his stern demand the hunter made known what had happened, and begged his assistance. But the Manito showed no disposition to grant it. In fact, the task was beyond his powers, but he was unwilling that it should be known.

“Fool!” he said, “is a scornful squaw worth the hazard of death and the shame that attends defeat? Seek thy lodge and blow away these thoughts as the wind disperses the winged seeds of the stinging nettle.” It was evident Manabozho had never been in love, for then he would not have thrown away his advice. He stayed not for a reply, but with a gesture of disdain disappeared.

Wampum-hair sought his wigwam, melancholy but not discouraged. It was, indeed, impossible to follow the counsel of the friendly Manito. Sleeping or waking the image of Leelinau swam before his eyes, and sometimes smiled as if to incite him to the enterprise.

He resolved to undertake a solemn fast. He therefore sought a retired place and built a pointed lodge.

Six days and nights he fasted, lying on the ground, and on the seventh day, at the rising of the sun, his guardian spirit, the child with the white beaver, slowly descended from the sky. His face was kind and gentle as at the first, but not as before did he lay his hand on the heart of Wampum-hair. Now he pressed his palm upon the forehead of the hunter, and strange thoughts and determinations, like rising storms, passed through his mind: slowly, then, up through the pointed roof, which opened for his passage, mounted the child till he disappeared in the blue field.

Magisaunikwa arose from the ground, and a frown was upon his brow. He ate and was refreshed, and returned to his lodge.

It was the last month of snows, and great rains had fallen, and the torrents were shouting from the mountains, and the Yaupaae pouring out a mightier flood than had ever been seen rushing through between the cleft rocks. It was then Wampum-hair announced his intention to undertake the adventure of the Falls, and invited the tribe to gather together to witness its performance. It is said that the heart of Leelinau, touched by so much constancy, was inclined to relent and excuse her lover the terrible ordeal, but this is probably the dream of some soft-hearted girl, and only indicates what she would have done in like circumstances.

On the day selected, the tribe was collected at the outpouring of the waters, to witness the achievement of Magisaunikwa, and lament his death. In great numbers they lined the banks of the stream, seeking those positions from which the best views could be obtained, while his friends watched at the foot of the cataract in canoes to rescue the body should it be thrown up by the raging water. Leelinau, too, was there, unyielding, yet proud of a devotion unheard of in the annals of her nation. She looked haughtily as on a spectacle devised in her honor, of which she should be celebrated as the heroine, long after her feet should have travelled the path that leads to the Spirit-land. No regret for the destruction to which her lover was doomed appeared to touch her heart, nor did pity moisten her eyes as she looked upon the preparations for the sacrifice.

At length Magisaunikwa appeared, and never before had he attracted such admiration. He moved like one returning from victory. No war paint, such as warriors are accustomed to use when upon the war-path in order to strike terror into the foe, or when commencing an enterprise of great peril, stained his person. His dress was the conaus of panther scalps, and he walked amid a company of young men of his own age, above the tallest of whom he rose by a head.

Before commencing the adventure, he performed the customary ceremony to propitiate the Great Spirit, pointing to the heavens, the earth, and the four winds, and invoking with a loud voice the Master of Life to smile upon the undertaking. This being done, he cast his eyes over the assembled crowd, till they fell upon Leelinau. Long he gazed, as if he desired to carry her image with him to the Spirit-land, nor after that last look did he allow his glance to rest upon another human being. Then, at a little distance above the head of the cataract, he entered the canoe and grasped the paddle.

The motion of the frail bark was at first gentle, but only for a short time: every moment its speed became accelerated, until, even before it reached the plunge, it seemed to fly like the swallow. Calmly guiding its fearful course sat the young man, his eyes fixed upon the narrow opening between the rocks. And now the canoe is at the brink of the Falls it leaps like the salmon when he journeys up the stream it is gone! the raging waters have devoured it no, I see it again the arm of Magisaunikwa is strong, and the paddle unbroken. Help, Manito! he is dashed against the rock at the throat no, the canoe is whirled round and darts away, and I behold it gliding with the youth over the quiet water. The Great Spirit hath protected him.

A shout, rivalling the roar of the Falls, went up from the assembled multitude, and they rose with songs such as welcome returned warriors to greet the successful hero.

But Wampum-hair received their congratulations and their praises with indifference. With eyes fixed on the ground, he suffered himself to be borne in triumph to the spot, where, on a platform of rock, stood the beautiful Leelinau. What were the thoughts that passed through her mind? Was she proud of being the object of a love so true and daring, or did she lament the necessity of accepting a lord? Wampum-hair approached, and before his calm, sorrowing eyes, her own sunk to the ground. Searching was his look, as if to descry the secrets of her soul, and at last he spoke.

“Leelinau,” he said, “the Great Spirit created thee loveliest among the daughters of women; wherefore gave he thee not a heart?

“Leelinau, Wampum-hair will sigh no more for thee. Henceforth, thou art to him only a flower or a painted bird.

“Leelinau, the waters of the Yaupaae have extinguished the fire that burned here,” and he laid his hand on his heart. He turned upon his heel and left the assemblage.

Astonishment at the address of Magisaunikwa at first held all mute, but presently a cry for revenge arose among the kinsmen of the slighted maiden. But the commanding voice of the wise Aishkwagon-aï-bee stilled the tumult.

“The blood of the mighty Ojeeg,” he said, “cannot mingle with water. The Great Spirit hath taken this way to release Leelinau from a promise which He is displeased that she made.”

Whatever might have been the vindictive feelings of the relations of Leelinau, their resentment was never visited on the head of the young hunter. Once, it is said, two brothers of the rejected maiden lay in ambush to take his life; but as he passed unconsciously near them, and the fatal arrows were drawn to the head against his bosom, Manabozho appeared and forbade the deed.

Magisaunikwa continued to cherish through a long life his love of peace. He obtained a great influence over his own and the neighboring tribes, and succeeded in spreading widely his pacific views. At the time of his death, which happened at an advanced age, the calumet of peace was everywhere smoked among the northern tribes, and their numbers had greatly increased. Wampum-hair was universally honored, and regarded as the cause of this felicity. But no wife ever cooked the venison in his lodge. With the dream of his youth vanished all predilection for the softer sex. He had loved and been disappointed. Where he expected to meet gentleness he had found pride. He looked for the yielding willow, and behold the inflexible oak!

But in Leelinau also a revolution had been effected. Her whole being was transformed. What devoted love that anticipated every wish was incapable of accomplishing, indifference achieved. Her soul from that moment flew on the wings of desire after Magisaunikwa. At first she thought his conduct caused by some temporary pique or resentment, and trusted to the power of her fascinations to restore him to her nets. As time, however, wore on, her hopes became fainter, until the terrible conviction settled like a night upon her soul, that she had trifled with the noblest heart of her nation and driven it for ever away. Then it was she felt the desolation no language can express. A settled melancholy took possession of her. Her eyes lost their fire, her lip its smile, and her voice the song. She would wander alone, far away into the recesses of the forest, speaking to herself in low tones, and weeping at the remembrance of happy days. Her health declined rapidly until she became too weak to leave without assistance the couch, where day after day reclined her fading form. One soft summer morning she begged two of her mates to support her to the rock, whence she beheld the exploit of Wampum-hair. She sank down, and removing, with her wasted hand, the long hair that had fallen over her eyes, gazed sadly on the foaming river. With a wistful look she followed the course of the cataract from top to bottom, probably recalling at the moment her lover’s danger for her sake and her own repented scorn, then heavily sighed, and leaning her head on the bosom of one of her companions, expired.