THE COUNTER-CHARM

Man-te-o and all his warriors
Long and far sought for Wi-no-na;
Sought to find the sky-eyed maiden
Sent by Man-to-ac, the Mighty,
To the Cro-a-to-ans to bless them,
And to make them wise and happy.
As a being more than mortal,
As a deity they held her;
And when no more seen among them
Lamentations filled the island.
Through Wo-ko-kon’s sandy stretches,
Through the bog-lands of Po-mou-ik,
Even unto Das-a-mon-que-peu,
Hunted they the missing maiden;
If perchance some other nation,
Envious of their peace and plenty,
Had the maiden boldly captured,
For themselves to win her power.
Louder grew their lamentations
When they found no trail to follow;
Wilder grew their threats of vengeance
’Gainst the tribe which held her captive.

While they wailed the Pale-Face Mother,
She who once was brave for love’s sake,
Weak from hardships new and wearing,
Utterly bereft of kindred,
Her heart’s comfort thus torn from her,
Died beneath her weight of sorrow.
And a pity, soft and human,
Though he knew no name to call it,
Thrilled the Red Man as he laid her
’Neath the forest leaves to slumber.

But the wary, wily Chi-co
Told his secret unto no one,
While he listened to the stories,
Strange and true, told by the hunters
Of a fleet and graceful White Doe
On the banks of Ro-a-no-ak.
And the hunters said, no arrow
Howsoever aimed could reach her;
Said the deer herd round her gathered,
And where e’er she led they followed.

The old women of the nation
Heard the tales about this White Doe.
Children they of superstition,
With their faith firm in enchantment,
Linked the going of the maiden
With the coming of the White Doe.
They believed in magic powers,
They knew Chi-co’s hopeless passion,
So they shook their heads and whispered,
Looked mysterious at each other,
“Ho,” they whispered to each other,
“Chi-co is a great Magician,
Chi-co should go hunt this White Doe;
He is not too old for loving;
Love keeps step with Youth and Courage;
Old age should not make him tremble.
Timid is a doe, and gentle
Like a maiden, like Wi-no-na.
Oho! Oho!” and they chuckled,
Casting dark looks at old Chi-co,
“He,” said they, “has ’witched our maiden.”

When O-kis-ko heard the whispers
Of the garrulous old women,
Glad belief he gave unto them
That the Doe on Ro-a-no-ak
Was in truth the Pale-Face Maiden
Wrung from him by cruel magic.
He was not a gabbling boaster,
He could think and act in silence;
And alone he roamed the island
Seeking this White Doe to capture,
So that he might tame and keep her
Near him to assuage his sorrow.

All in vain, no hand could touch her.
All in vain, no hunter won her.
Up the dunes of Ro-a-no-ak
Still she led the herd of wild deer.

Then O-kis-ko sought We-nau-don,
The Magician of Po-mou-ik.
Gave him store of skins and wampum,
Promised all his greed demanded,
If he would restore the maiden,
Break the spell which held her spirit.

In his heart We-nau-don cherished
Hatred for his rival Chi-co
For some boyhood’s cause of anger,
For defeat in public wrestling;
And because of this he welcomed
Now the time to vent his malice.
So he promised from enchantment
To release the captive maiden.

In the days of pristine nature,
In the dells of Ro-a-no-ak,
Bubbling from the earth’s dark caverns,
Was a spring of magic water.
There the Naiads held their revels,
There in secret met their lovers;
And they laid a spell upon it
Which should make true lovers happy;
For to them true love was precious.

He who drank of it at midnight
When the Harvest Moon was brightest,
Using as a drinking-vessel
Skull-bowl of his greatest rival
Killed in open, honest combat,
And by summer sunshine whitened,
He gained youth perennial from it
And the heart he wished to love him.

He who bathed within its waters,
Having killed a dove while moaning,
And had killed no other creature
Since three crescent moons had rounded;
Vowing to be kind and helpful
To the sad and weary-hearted:
He received the magic power
To undo all spells of evil
Which divided faithful lovers.

In this spring had bathed We-nau-don,
And he held its secrets sacred;
But a feeling ever moved him
To make glad the heavy-hearted.
So he showed unto O-kis-ko
Where to find the magic water;
With this counter-charm, he told him
How to free the charmed Wi-no-na:

“In a shark’s tooth, long and narrow
In a closely wrought triangle,
Set three mussel-pearls of purple,
Smooth and polished with much rubbing.
To an arrow of witch-hazel,
New, and fashioned very slender,
Set the shark’s tooth, long and narrow,
With its pearl-inlaid triangle.
From the wing of living heron
Pluck one feather, white and trusty;
With this feather wing the arrow,
That it swerve not as it flyeth.
Fashioned thus with care and caution,
Let no mortal eye gaze on it;
Tell no mortal of your purpose;
Secretly at sunset place it
In the spring of magic water.
Let it rest there through three sunsets,
Then when sunrise gilds the tree-tops
Take it dripping from the water,
At the rising sun straight point it,
While three times these words repeating:
Mussel-pearl arrow, to her heart go;
Loosen the fetters which bind the White Doe;
Bring the lost maiden back to O-kis-ko.
With this arrow hunt the White Doe,
Have no timid fear of wounding;
When her heart it enters boldly
Chi-co’s charm will melt before it.”

Every word O-kis-ko heeded,
Hope, once dead, now cheered his spirit.
From the sea three pearls he gathered;
From the thicket brought witch-hazel
For the making of the arrow;
From the heron’s wing a feather
Plucked to true its speed in flying.
Patiently he cut and labored,
As for love’s sake man will labor;
Shaped the arrow, new and slender,
Set the pearls into the shark’s tooth,
Fastened firm the heron’s feather,
With a faith which mastered reason.
In the magic spring he steeped it,
Watching lest some eye should see it;
Through three sunsets steeped and watched it;
Three times o’er the charm repeated
While the sunrise touched the tree-tops;
Then prepared to test its power.