BURIAI, OF BLACKBIRD, CHIEF OF THE OMAWHAWS,

 
———oee

LEGENDS

OF THE

MISSOURI AND MISSISSIPPI.

ROSALIE, THE OLD FRENCH TOWN,
WHERE NATCHEZ, THE METROPOLIS OF MISSISSIPPI, IS
SITUATED,

@ Leqeud of ihe RMississiyyt.

7]

(Continued from page 128, Parr I.)

 

 

—— )

This subtle plan highly delighted the assembled chiefs,
and aroused all their savage instincts. They drew their
war-clubs, and shook their tomahawks; and the repeated
war-whoop rang from the building. Then White Apple,
seeing their unanimity of feeling, produced the calumet,
and, first drawing a whiff from the pipe, passed it to each
chief, who in his turn took a whiff; and thus was con-
cluded a compact which, had it been carried out as pro-
posed, would have effectually destroyed the colonies which
Iberville and Bienville had been for thirty years endea-
vouring to make flourish in the southern portion of the
United States.

White Apple reserved the destruction of Fort Rosalie
for the Natchez Indians, assisted by the Chickasaws ; for:
that was the great stronghold of the whites, and the
nucleus of their strength.

 
   
  
   
 
    
 
  
   
   
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

130 LEGENDS. '

Cuarrer II.

“As monumental bronze unchanged his look, »
A soul, that pity touch’d, but never shook. a

Train’d from his tree—rock’d cradle to his bier;
The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook
Impassive: fearing but the shame of fear,
A stoic of the woods—a man without a tear.”—CAMPBELL.

In the afternoon, according to appointment, White Apple,
attended by four warriors of his nation, came to the Fort and
was immediately conducted to the tent of the commandant. |

The Indian chief was of gigantic stature, and had a large |
bearskin thrown across his shoulders. He stood haughtily
and gravely a moment in silence, when he entered the tent,
nor noticed the invitation which Louis gave him to a seat
on an oaken bench. He then looked at Chopart, who was !
enjoying some of the tobacco of the country, with a large
wooden pipe, and who was awaiting from the chief some
sign of salutation, and said :

“The chief of the white men has sent to White Apple;
what would he have?”

“‘ Have you to move, you insolent savage,” replied Cho-
part goaded almost to the madness of passion, ‘‘ from the
village you and your copper heads occupy. At the next new
moon the wigwams must be emptied, or with sword and
fire I will visit you, and sweep you from the earth.”

Calm and unshaken by this stormy torrent of words,
White Apple, drawing his black robe of bearskin tightly
around him, and standing his full stature, thus replied : By

«“The graves of our mothers are in this land, and our
fathers built their lodges upon it because it was their own,
Our wigwams are the work of our hands—they rest upon
our heritage—we will not leave them!”

If the commander was in a passion before, now he was
gin

ROSALIE, 131

almost in a state of frenzy at the sang-froid manner and
defiant answer of the Indian. He almost foamed with rage,
and his hand clutched the hilt of his sword ; but, somewhat
calming himself at a few whispered words from Rossart, he
thus addressed the savage chieftain :

‘‘ Hark ye, you dog of the forest! if, when the ninth sun
looks on the world, your wigwams are not empty, and your
people be not gone, I will have them shot down like the
buffalo on the prairies, and the buzzards shall mangle your
festering bodies. Go! and look to your carcasses if you
obey not my edicts.” He waved his hand towards the
door, and White Apple, followed by his warriors, strode
from the tent.

After going some distance from the fort, the Indians sat
beneath the shade, and held aconsultation ; and then White
Apple returned alone to the fort, and requested an audience
of the Commander; he was conducted to his tent, and,
with a deportment much more conciliatory and much more
respectful than before, thus addressed him :

“Our White Brother! you have ordered us to quit our
lodges, and leave the spot where our fathers lived. We
will go, for the white men are loved by the Great Spirit,
and the red men must obey them. But our White Brother
knows that our corn is in the field, and must have the work
of our squaws, or it will be choked with the weeds, and be
no good to any one. If he will let us remain until the
autumn frosts shall come, each lodge shall bring him one
fowl and one bushel of corn, as a price for his goodness,
What says our White Brother?”

This conciliatory speech somewhat calmed the flood of
passion raging in the bosom of Chopart, and disposed him
to look with favour on an offer that would yield him a
bountiful supply of winter provisions for his garrison. After
thinking well over the policy of his consent, he thus
replied :

“It is well. Remain till the autumn is past, and send

 
  

|
182 LEGENDS.

the tribute you have promised. ‘Then, pack up, and leave
your villages, as I have told you.”

After White Apple had departed, Chopart turned to
Rossart, who was still in his tent, and said, with a laugh—
“« The dog, I have cut his combs and gills at last! How
proud and defiant he stood this morning—putting on the
airs of an injured monarch ; but, when I told him that a
‘sword was hanging over his head if he did not do as he was
commanded, see how quickly the monarch has turned sup-
pliant! Talk of humanity in the treatment of savages!
‘They would laugh at our orders, and rebel against our
authority. The only way to make them succumb, is to hang
and impale them for the slightest disobedience. You see,
Rossart, my friend, the good effect of a sterner policy than
you would advocate.”

‘‘ Both of our opinions, I believe, are too deeply radicated
to be changed by argument; but this apparent submission
of White Apple I do not like. The human character can-
not change in a moment, like the elements; and I fear this
‘submission, so directly antagonistical to his proud, domi-
nant spirit, is but a semblance to deceive, and under which,
he will hatch his designing plans.”

** He dares not deceive me,” said Chopart, ‘‘ for well he
knows, if I saw one single misstep in his movements, his
giant bulk would swing from the first tree. But I don’t
see that Louis is making any preparation for my tea, and I
suspect he is stretching too long the permission I gave him
to sleep. I will see.’ Chopart then looked into the little
apartment used for cooking, and there, according to his sur-
‘mises, was Louis, enjoying a profound slumber, although
the mosquitoes were sucking, with delight, his rich Biiiieh
blood. He was awakened by his master, and, animated by
the desire of meeting Belle Biche, as well as to keep in the
graces of his master, soon had the venison steak smoking
on its wooden dish, looking so tempting, that the most
‘determined suicide would, at the sight, forego his purpose,

  
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
    
  
  
 
  
   
ae

ROSALIE. 133

and acknowledge that there was one good thing yet left to
live for.

We will now take a look at Belle Biche, the heroine of
the legend, in her father’s lodge. She is seated on a deer-
skin, stringing together some shells which Louis had given
her. She had lost her mother, and was now sole occupant
with her father of the wigwam, for he never took to wife
another after the death of the mother of his child—a strange
circumstance, when we consider the uxorious character of
the Indians.

The appearance of Belle Biche was different from what
we usually see in females in a savage state; as we some-
times meet with a flower in the wildest lanes, whose deli-
cate lines of beauty would rival the choicest selection of the
garden, so there was a retiring delicacy in her manner, and
an expression of sentiment and intelligence in her features,
which gave her countenance an attraction seldom surpassed
by the cultivated beauty of the drawing-room. Her love
was not the offspring of passion, so common in savage life,
but was born in her heart, as she was looking, with devo-
tional zeal, towards the bright sun peeping from the horizon.
As the bright rays were streaming upon her, a form stood
in the flood of light, the sunbeams rested upon it, and, as
she continued her orisons, it gradually became associated
with the divinity of her creed—was loved, was worshipped.
It was the form of Louis, who had come on a message to
her father, and who, struck by her beauty, had stood some
time observing her whilst engaged in her devotional exer-
cise. From that hour, her attachment commenced, and
each day grew more intense, until her mortal love obtained
a dominion over her spirit more despotic than her solar
deity.

If love has the roseate hues of paradise, it has likewise
the shadows of earth. In loving, Belle Biche had entered
a new world of delight, but now the brightness had
vanished, for fear had thrown its dark shadow upon her

 
  

134 LEGENDS.

soul. She knew that the Indians were plotting against the
whites, and were only waiting a fitting time to visit upon
them a terrible vengeance. In the general massacre that
would take place, her beloved would share the fate of the

. rest, and without him, what would existence be to her?

She determined, if possible, to find out the details of the
plan which she felt was already concocted, and various
Ways were suggesting themselves, how to discover what
she wished, when her father entered. It was the same
afternoon that he had come from his interview with Chopart,
and a smile rested upon his dark features, which, before,
had always been locked in gloom and discontent. The
smile was one of triumph; and a ray of gladness had pene-
trated the heart of the warrior at the prospect of being
revenged upon his enemies, Without noticing his
daughter, he went to a corner of his lodge and took from
it a bundle of reeds compactly tied together. These he
carefully counted, and a grunt of satisfaction escaped him
as he finished. Then he took his pipe, and, while the
volume of smoke floated around him, he gave himself up in
dreamy enjoyment of the delights that were in store for
him when the hour of vengeance would come.

Belle Biche dare not inquire of what was uppermost in
her thoughts ; for she well knew that the proceedings of
the council had been conducted with the utmost secrecy,
and women, especially, had been excluded from all know-
ledge of what passed.

The strange chiefs who had come on a visit to her father
now came in, at different intervals, to greet the great chief
of the Natchez before their departure.

Belle Biche observed that each chief had a bundle of
reeds, the exact counterpart of that which her father had
in his lodge. She knew from the importance bestowed
upon them, that they were in some measure connected with
the conspiracy, but how, and in what manner, she could
not determine. She endeayoured to glean some infor-

   
    
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
      
ROSALIE. 135

mation from the conversation of the chiefs, but they spoke
in so low a tone that she could hear only some fragments
of what they said, and which it was impossible for her to
connect.

That night, in her interview with Louis, she told him
again of the coming danger, and how delighted her father
appeared at the probable success of his plans. She then
showed him five reeds which she had furtively taken from
her father’s bunch, thinking, perhaps, that he might un-
derstand their signification and connexion with the deep-
laid scheme.

Louis examined the reeds with as much attention as the
antiquary does some mystic scroll that had been found
amid the catacombs, or exhumed from Pompeii; but, des-
pite the repeated action of his hand upon his forehead, to
rub up his dormant ideas, he could see nothing on the
smooth surface of the epidermis that would permit ever a
sensation, and then, with an ejaculation of ‘* Saeré Dieu /
ce n'est qu'un bdton,” he broke the reeds to shivers, greatly
to the grief of Belle Biche who designed returning them to
the parcel from which she had taken them.

How Louis succeeded in making Belle Biche forget the
fears which before had so much disturbed her, we will
leave for lovers to décide; but certain it is that the interim
passed greatly to her satisfaction, and the two were as
happy as ever were loving doves in spring time. They
parted, and agreed to meet the following night.

On her return to her lodge, as usual, Belle Biche exer-
cised great caution, for she well knew if her meeting with
Louis was discovered by her father, that such was his im-
placable hate to the white men, death would be her portion.
She saw a light, which at first alarmed her, twinkling
through the chinks of a lodge, which she thought was her
father’s, but which proved to be that of the Great Medicine
man of the Natchez.

She cautiously approached her lodge, which was the

 
    

  

1386 LEGENDS.

largest in the village, for it had two doors leading within,
one entrance being at the side, the other in front. The
former led into the little apartment used for a sleeping-
room by Belle Biche, and which was separated from the
_ rest of the interior by a partition of buffalo-skins.

When she had gained her sleeping apartment, she was

. rauch surprised at not hearing the accustomed music which
her father made in his slumbers, he being greatly addicted
_to the vulgar habit of snoring. She listened attentively
_ where she lay, and, hearing nothing, placed her ears against

the partition, and then became convinced that her father

was not in the lodge.

A hundred surmises rushed in an instant across her mind,
and she had come to the conclusion that her father had
discovered her absence and had gone in search of her,
when she recollected the light she had seen in the

lodge of the Prophet. Directly this circumstance flashed
_ upon the mind of Belle Biche, she had a premonition that

something fearful was passing in that wigwam, and that her
father was an actor in the proceedings.

She then arose from the skin in which she had been
lying, and determined to reconnoitre the spot where the
Medicine Man lived, for she felt that whatever the mystery
might be, that it was associated in some manner with the
plan the Indians had in view for the slaughter of the white
men. As she glided from tree to tree, so as to conceal her
movements by keeping in their shadow, not a sound was
emitted by her footsteps—not a stick broke—not even the
grass was crushed, so quick and light was her pressure.

Belle Biche, being the daughter of a chief, had been
reared with a complete knowledge of the barbaric customs
in vogue by her tribe. She had seen the wild excitement
of the war-dance, in which the warrior tatooed and begrimed
with paint, acted by pantomime the bloody scene of the
battle, grasping the empty air as if he was clutching his
enemy, and then with an exulting yell plunging his knife to

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
 
ROSALIE, 137

his heart, or cleaving the skull with his tomahawk. She
had seen the victorious war-party return with the reeking
scalps dangling from their girdles. She had seen the
prisoner goaded almost to madness while running the
gauntlet, and heard his wailing cry, and seen his dying
struggles at the fire-stake, while his flesh quivered and
shrank in the agony of torment; but, when she looked
through a small aperture into the lodge of the Medicine
Man, a sight so terrible met her view that her heart grew
sick, a film gathered over her eyes, and she would have
fallen had she not leaned against the side of the but and
sustained her drooping form.

Before a large fire made in the centre of the lodge, she
saw the Prophetewith human entrails reeking in his hands,
consigning them to the flames, and engaged in the most
dreadful rites of savage incantation. On the floor, lying
in a pool of blood, she recognized the orphan boy whose
mother had died during his infancy, and whose father had
recently been killed in a battle with the French. The Pro-
phet had taken this waif, drifting on the current of exist-
ence, and made him perform the menial offices of his lodges,
and now had given him as a sacrifice of propitiation to the
Sun, the deity of their worship, that he might look kindly
upon the deep-laid plan they had concocted for the exter-
mination of the whites.

Seated in one corner of the lodge, looking unmoved
upon the most horrid rite known in their creed, was White
Apple, Chief of the Natchez. He it was who had per-
suaded the Medicine Man to revive this sacrifice, an old
custom of their tribe, never resorted to unless some request
was to be asked of the deity—of vital importance to the
national welfare.

Since the intercourse of the Indians with the whites, this
custom had long been dormant, and was of so bloody an
aspect as to be viewed with loathing and disfavour by the
majority of the Indians; hence the secrecy which was ob-

 
   

  

138 LEGENDS,

served in this instance, and which became known to Belle
Biche only through accident.

White Apple, intent that the darling project conceived
by his brain should reach a successful maturity, was deter-
mined that nothing should be left undone to ensure success,
and, knowing the unprotected orphan in the Prophet’s
lodge, he considered him a fit subject, and persuaded the
Medicine Man, by a promise of a large share of booty in
the coming massacre, to select him as the secret victim in
the sacrifice.

When Belle Biche somewhat recovered from the faint-
ness caused by the fearful sight, without daring to Jook in
again, she left the spot, and proceeded at once to her sleep-
ing apartment in her father’s lodge. Thwowing herself on
the skin which served for her bed, she tried to recall to her
mind all the past events which had sprung into existence
since the deputation of the chiefs, representing different
tribes, had come to the Natchez nation. But her reason-
ing faculties had become too much disturbed for her to
succeed in her object. Crowds of disconnected ideas
rushed through her teeming brain, assuming the most
dreadful outlines, and mingling in fearful confusion, until
she fe}l in a confused slumber, dreaming of Louis. In the
vagaries of her dreams, she was again at the lodge of the
Prophet, but the bleeding victim she saw upon the floor,
with glazed eyes, struggling in death-agony, was her
beloved Louis, and with a gcream she sprang to clasp
him in her arms. She awoke, and tears were trickling
down her cheeks, and she was sobbing in all the excess
of grief.

She could see by the light streaming through the cre-
vices of the door, that morning was chasing away the sha-
dows of night, and in a few moments she heard some one
open the door in front of the lodge, and she at once knew,
by the tread, to be her father.

The gratified expression which had marked the features

 
ROSALIE. —

of White Apple for the last few days, was still more vivid
than before, in the morning after his participation in the
human sacrifice, for he felt confident that he had secured
every avenue, to ensure the accomplishment of his purpose.
Over and over again he revolved his deep-laid schemes,
and then, satisfied of their success, he would feast his mind
in anticipation over the carnage that would ensue; his eyes
would look upon the death-struggles of the white men, his
ears would drink in their groans and shrieks; and, more
than all, when the carnage was complete, he had conceived
the demoniac purpose of having the heads of his victims
heaped in a vast pyramid, and to form the pinnacle was to
be the head of Chopart, the commander of Fort Rosalie;
and now in prospective his dark spirit gloated over the
scene.

All of the day, following the fearful events of her night’s
adventure, Belle Biche was suffering mental torments, and
longed anxiously for the night to come, when she could
recount to Louis the horrors she had witnessed, and receive
his sympathy and counsel, She feared almost to look to
her father during the day, lest her shuddering expression
of countenance might betray what she had accidentally
seen ; and she knew if he had any idea she had discovered
what he was so anxious to conceal, he would cleave her
skull in an instant with his tomahawk, though she was
his only child.

Night came at last; and Belle Biche, at the appointed
hour, was at the spot of meeting, and was clasped in the
arms of Louis, who, in his impatience, was always there
before the appointed time. Belle Biche’s heart was too full
for utterance, and she gave way to so long a fit of weeping
as to alarm Louis, and to call into requisition all his voca-
bulary of words in the Natchez language, and his most
effective signs and grimaces to comfort her. After she had
somewhat regained her composure, she related to her lover,
as well as she could in words and signs, what she had seen;

 
   

  

140 LEGENDS.

but, for the soul of him, Louis could not ‘understand what
the matter was, though he understood sufficient to know
that the whites were in danger of massacre by the Indians.
However, to cut the matter short, that Belle Biche might
be quieted, he looked very wisely, nodded his head, and
showed a Spanish dagger, and by sundry blows against a
tree, intimated how certain any one would be annihilated
who attempted his life.

Louis then signified to Belle Biche that he was soon
going to make her his wife; that he would build her a nice
lodge, give her dresses flowing to her feet, and ornaments
for her neck which would make her appear still more beau-
tiful. He promised her more, much more than he could
perform: but Belle Biche believed all—more especially as
he wound up by placing on her finger a small gold ring, in
which sparkled a ruby.

These were the golden moments of life, tinted with the
rays of love, sparkling like the dewdrop, and as transient,
too. Belle Biche and Louis, in the first warm glow of
youthful life, seated side by side, enjoyed a happiness so
full, so near to that of heaven, that it could not long live
upon earth.

The next morning, Louis narrated to Chopart all that he
understood of the fears of Belle Biche; but the Commandant
sternly forbade him again to trouble him with any relation of
his Indian chére amie, for he thought the Indians stood too
much in fear of the whites ever to conceive treachery, or
raise again the tomahawk. He was mistaken. A cloud
was then brewing, which soon thickened and darkened ;
and finally burst with such fury upon the devoted colonists,
that, had it not been for an accidental circumstance, the
whole would have been destroyed.

It will be remembered that Belle Biche had abstracted
some of the reeds belonging to her father’s parcel, and car-
ried them to Louis, that he might resolve the import.
Louis, after trying in vain to understand their meaning, had

 

Te
ROSALIE, 141

destroyed them, and by that means, prevented an universal
butchery.

Cuaprer III.

I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

And each particular hair to stand on end,

Like quills upon the fretful poreupine.—SmAKESPEARE.

Every morning, after the departure of the chiefs, White
Apple, agreeably to the understanding, drew a reed from
his bundle of reeds, and each chief did the same; but it
must be reccollected that White Apple’s bundle did not
have its original count, on account of the abstraction made
by Belle Biche.

The time of the crisis was fast approaching; there were
only three more reeds to be drawn. White Apple then,
in accordance with his prearranged design, went to Fort
Rosalie, and asked to be supplied with some ammunition
and knives, as many of his warriors were going on a great
hunt; and, as he offered in barter a large quantity of corn,
Chopart consented to a trade,

White Apple appointed a day for the exchange to take
place; it was the day that the last reed would be drawn
from his bundle, and he thought that an universal massacre
would take place by a general uprising of the Indians.

Everything among the Indians had been conducted in a
quiet and unsuspicious manner, and particularly among the
Natchez there was no evidence of the fearful scheme that
was gradually ripening; but, on the contrary, the Indians
had recently appeared much more submissive than formerly,
and, with the exception of Louis and the cautious Rossart,
there were none in Fort Rosalie who suspected the dreadful
design lurking in their bosom, The former had been in-

 
  

142 LEGENDS.

formed by Belle Biche that there would be an attack, but
Louis had been warned peremptorily by his master, on these
occasions, not only from expressing his fears to him, but
also not to communicate them, at his peril, to any one, that
no needless alarm should be felt by the garrison; for Cho-
part had all confidence in the pacific designs of the Indians,
who, he supposed, were kept in subjection by the iron rule
with which he governed them.

On the appointed day, White Apple, accompanied by a
large number of warriors, apparently all unarmed, presented
himself to Chopart, and asked for the ammunition and
knives in exchange for the corn which his followers bore.
The wily Chopart had promised knives, not with any inten-
tion of giving them, for he had no supply on hand, but to
induce the Indians to bring a greater supply of corn, which
was needed by the garrison. Chopart, with that imperious
manner which always characterized him when in intercourse
with the Indians, ordered White Apple to carry the corn to
the warehouse, and to go to an adjoining building roughly
built of hewed logs, which was used as an arsenal, and the
officers in attendance would give him and his followers a
small supply of ammunition.

The haughty chieftain, with the vengeance of a thousand
wrongs unavenged sleeping in his bosom, for the last time
bowed submissively to that man who, above all others, had
most humiliated his pride, and brought almost to the con-
dition of menials the proud nation of the Natchez. So
near was the hour of retribution that the hand of the
warrior could scarcely suppress the impulse which urged
him to draw the tomahawk concealed beneath his robe, and
strike his enemy to the ground. But he had nursed too
long his deeply-laid plan, to let the gratified vengeance of
a moment mar its full completion. No! the vengeance
must be complete in all its details, and the moment had not:

et arrived.
The number of warriors who entered the fort were

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
ROSALIE, 143

more than twice the number of the garrison, and, accord-
ing to the orders they had received, they proceeded to
the warehouse to deposit the corn. They then mingled
freely with the soldiers and officers of the garrison, answer-
ing with a laugh the merry jests of the gay Frenchmen,
and on their countenances there was no likeness, no ap-
pearance, of the demon that had possession of their hearts.

Louis had just finished arranging his master’s apartment,
whilst these proceedings were going on, and he was going
to the warehouse, when Belle Biche, dressed like a youth-
ful warrior, sprang from a pile of lumber, where she had
been concealed, watching for an opportunity to speak to
her lover unobserved. Louis was so much surprised at the
sudden appearance of Belle Biche at that time and place,
with her strange attire, that his power of volition was gone,
and he submitted himself wholly to her guidance. In a
few moments he was led to the water’s edge, where a canoe
had just been pulled upon the banks. Then she told him
to enter the canoe with her, and paddle for his life, for, in
a few moments, the whole fort would be sacrificed. Louis
stopped, in despite of the efforts of Belle Biche to the con-
trary, for he was determined to warn his commander of his
danger, when a yell, which sounded more like the howl of
a demon than the noise produced by the human voice,
rang from the arsenal, and was responded to by an uni-
versal war-whoop of the warriors. Then the work of death
commenced: that yell was the signal, and issued from the
stentorian Jungs of White Apple. At the fearful sound,
Belle Biche uttered a cry of terror, shrieking, ‘‘ My father,
my father!” and almost driven to frenzy by the obstinacy
of her lover, seized him suddenly around the waist, and in
another moment he was thrown in the bottom of the canoe,
which was soon pushed into the stream,

In the meantime, a butchery was going on in the fort
too horrible for description, and almost unparalleled, even
in Indian annals, for atrocity. At the signal given by

 
   

  

144 LEGENDS,

White Apple, the warriors had drawn knives and short
clubs, which they had concealed in the lower portion of
their flowing dress, and, before an arm could be stretched
for defence, the whole garrison were either killed or
stretched senseless upon the earth.

White Apple, the moment he had given the signal,
rushed to the tent of Chopart, who was leisurely smoking
after his breakfast, and, springing upon him with the fero-
city of a tiger, bore him to the earth. He then made two
of his warriors hold him in that prostrate position; then
mocked him; then spat upon him, and spurned him with
his foot; and finally, to degrade him as much as possible,
made a squaw stab him to the heart with a knife, not per-
mitting him to fall by the hands of a warrior. The mas-
sacre had been complete, not one escaping alive but Louis,
through the devotion of Belle Biche.

When the work of death had been fully completed,
White Apple, fully to gratify the cravings of his insatiate

and long-deferred vengeance, ordered the heads to be.

severed from the dead bodies, and a huge pile to be built
of them on the summit of which was placed the head of
Chopart. The savages held their drunken orgies for three
days, for they revelled in the liquor they found in the fort,
and then set fire to the buildings, buraing them to the
ground,

At the time of the massacre at Fort Rosalie, and the
destruction of the place, all of the settlers in the vicinity
were butchered, and, had it not been for the act of Belle
Biche, in taking a portion of the reeds from her father’s
bundle, all of the settlements adjoining the Chickasaw and
Choctaw tribes would have shared the same fate; as those
Indians, when their parcel of reeds would have been ex-
hausted, by drawing one each day, had determined to
massacre the whole, but the action of the Natchez being
premature, the news soon spread, and the other settlements
were forewarned,

 

4
ROSALIE, 145

Belle Biche and Louis went across the Mississippi, and
then into Arkansas, where they settled, and the wigwam
of Louis was the home of the missionary in his efforts to
spread the light of faith in the wilds of savage life.

In after times, when this bloody massacre had been re-
venged by the whites, and White Apple summarily exe-
cuted, a town was built where Fort Rosalie stood, but it
was “ Rosalie” no more ;:it bore the name of Natchez,
from the Indian tribe that once owned the territorv, and is
at the present day the metropolis of the flourishing and
wealthy State of Mississippi.

 
   

   

LEGENDS.

DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI (MISSOURI).

Lrgeud of Butian Carn.

—_0—

In the year 1673, near the end of July, a small boat,
moved by oars, containing seven men in all, descended the
Mississippi river, and at mid-day arrived at that point
(Maple Island) where the turbid Missouri, through its
main channel, flows into the “‘ Father of Waters.”

Seated in the stern of the little vessel, was a diminutive
figure clad in sable habiliments of worn appearance. He
was evidently a monk, for the hood and cowl were there,
with other vestures of the order, and his right hand rested
upon a staff, on the end. of which gleamed a silver crucifix.
The face of the monk was expressive of devotion and be-
nignity, and, though his features were prematurely wrinkled,
rather by care and exposure than by age, still the light
reflected upon them by the purity of his spirit, invested
them with the most winning attraction.

The name of the monk was Father Marquette, who, with
his companion, M. Joliet, were the first white men who had
ever seen the waters of the muddy Missouri. The other
five persons in the boat were Indians.

« Here is, indeed, a vast river,” said Father Marquette,
to M. Joliet, ‘‘and seems larger than La Riviere de la
Conception,” (a name that Marquette gave to the Missis-
sippi). ‘I scarcely know which of the two is the tributary
for both roll nearly an equal volume of water, and they
seem unwilling to unite their currents. As far as we can
see, the two rivers flow side by side, without any inter-
vening boundary, yet the track of each plainly marked out
by the colour of their respective waters. See, how turbid
DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI. 147

flows the Pekitanoni (Missouri), whilst almost transparent
are the waters of La Riviére de Ja Conception!”

‘It is, indeed, a wonderful sight, replied M. Joliet, ‘‘ to
see each of these two great rivers keeping distinct from the
other, though flowing in the same channel and bounded by
the same banks.”

“Tt is because their volume of water is nearly equal,”
said the monk, ‘‘ that keeps them thus asunder. There is
capacity in neither to merge the other, but their flow will
gradually mingle and fuse together by a natural affinity; for,
observe, the line of demarcation visibly lessens the further
they flow together. I see a canoe upon the island—yes,
several. Shall we land, and see if we can hear anything of
the history of the remarkable river we have just discovered?”

“We are wholly unacquainted with the habits of the
Indians in these regions,” replied M. Joliet, ‘‘ and will run
a very venturesome risk in landing upon that suspicious
island. Perhaps we may be butchered, barbecued, and
eaten, before sundown. There are some Indians who are
cannibals.”’

“‘T know it, my friend,’’ replied the monk, ‘‘ but our pro-
visions are nearly out, and it is necessary, by some means,
to recruit our exhausted store. What says our friend
Rattlesnake ; shall we go to yon island, or shall we avoid it
for fear of the red man’s arrow?’’ This question was
addressed to an Indian warrior, decked with beads, red
flannel, and various gaudy trinkets, who had been listening
in silence to the conversation of the two leaders. Thus
directly addressed, the warrior, looking steadily and reve-
rentially upon the monk, thus replied :

“The White Prophet is a Great Medicine, whom the
Great Spirit loves. The arrows of the red men cannot hurt
him, though they stop the elk in their flight, and slay the
mighty buffalo.”

“The Lord has always protected his servant,” said the
priest, kissing the crucifix on his staff, ‘and will again

 
   

148 LEGENDS.

guard him from all dangers, because he knows the inno-
cence of his intentions ;”’ saying which, he gave orders to
the Indians rowing, to proceed directly to Maple Island.

When the boat neared the shore, hundreds of savages
could be seen peering from the thick maples, that grew in
clusters upon the whole of the insular elevation, M. Joliet
began to feel his cranium, a half formed idea floating in his
mind, as to how much of a savage tug it would take to drag
his scalp-lock from its comfortable location, and talked
eloquently of Anthropophagi, splinters of light wood, and
stewing by degrees, at the stake, like a pot of old woman’s
soap. The monk, undaunted, waved his hand in the direc-
tion of the island, and, taking his rosary from his gown, sat
himself quietly in the prow of the boat, where the danger
was the greatest, conversing with the Deity, by the symbols
which he held in his hand, whose zgis he knew was spread
over him for protection.

When within sixty yards of the shore, a shower of arrows
fell around the voyagers, causing the water to splash and
bubble, but not one striking the boat. The Indians rowing
ceased their strokes at this hostile indication, and made
movements significant of turning the boat in a retrogade
direction; but Father Marquette, rising in an imperious
manner, urged them onward, while he, with his face to-
wards his enemies, sang aloud the Te Deum, which had
never before been chanted by man at the mouth of the
Missouri.

The Indians, at the sight of the monk with his long
gown and hood, his long staff in one hand, on the head of
which gleamed the silver cross, together with his undaunted
manner, were awed and astonished to such a degree, that
they suffered the boat to land unmolested.

Immediately on touching shore, Father Marquette stuck
his staff into the sand, and, kneeling by its side, as did also
M. Joliet, preferred a prayer of thanksgiving to the throné
of divine grace, whilst the wild Indians, with awe and

   

wt eh a

2 ae oe a
DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI, 149

wonder, looked on without any hostile indications. After
finishing his religious rites, Father Marquette made signs
to the Indians to approach nearer him, but their wonder
kept them at some distance, until, taking from his pocket
a little mirror, he so shaped it to the sun that it reflected
the radiating luminary full upon them. From that moment
the ice was broken, and the avenues to their hearts were
opened. They danced around the monk like beings pos-
sessed, using the most significant-gestures, and giving vent
to every demonstration of wonder and delight.

Father Marquette, by signs, and the assistance he derived
from Rattlesnake, a chief of the Algonquin nation, who was
with him, learned that these Indians were a war party of
the Kansas, who were returning from a successful incursion
into the Shawnee country, and who had landed on the is-
land to burn one of the prisoners they had taken, who had
become too weak from wounds and fatigue to travel further.
They had selected the island because of its privacy, and had
their prisoner already bound to the stake, with the wood
heaped around him, when the arrival of the voyagers, at the
critical juncture, caused them to suspend operations, by
alarming them for their safety.

Though the murderous instincts of the Kansas Indians
had been suspended by the strange attire, the Caucasian
hue, the religious rites, and, above all, by the wonderful
power of the reflecting glass, it was only of short duration ;
soon the current of their thoughts turned in their natural
channels, and their whole mind was given up to the wild
excitement of the fire-death. Father Marquette went to
the spot where the captive stood bound. He was a young
Indian, scarcely the age of manhood, and, as he stood
divested of all clothing, in the perfect finish and adjustment
of his limbs, would recall to the classic wanderer the model
of grace and beauty typified in the Apollo de Belvidere.

The captive had not been compelled to run the gauntlet,
for he was too weak from loss of blood from an arrow-wound

 
    

 
 

150 LEGENDS.

in his thigh, and a severe contusion on the head with a
club. He looked upon the hooting, yelling, taunts, and
persecution of his enemies with stoical indifference; even
when he saw them light the funeral pile, not a shadow of
terror, or recognition of the dark fate awaiting him, rested
upon his countenance—proud, defiant, and contemptuous,
The flames commenced to lick the wood, and the hot smoke
to envelop him, yet he laughed scornfully at his enemies
and chanted his death-song.

In a moment the scene was changed, and all was con-
fusion, Father Marquette, with his staff in his left hand,
and a knife in his right, had leaped over the barrier of wood
and fire, and, in a moment, had cut the thongs confining
the prisoner; and both sprang simultaneously from the
fatal circle, just as the greedy flames had searched every
portion of it in its progress. One tomahawk grazed the
cheek of the monk, a sweep from a club took the hood from
his head, and an arrow had pierced his ‘heart, but was
stopped in its passage by the holy missal, which, when un-
used, always rested upon his bosom, Jn another moment,
he had fallen a victim to his temerity, but, drawing a small
pistol from his girdle, he fired it in a vertical direction be-
fore the astonished savages, who appeared as if entranced
as the report died in a thousand echoes through the
wilderness.

Rattlesnake, the Algonquin chief, taking advantage of
this moment of amazement, harangued them in a short
speech, which they very well comprehended, as the lan-
guages of the Algonquins and Kansas were very similar.
He told them that Father Marquette was a Great Medicine,
who could perform all things, and whom no man could kill.
That he was sent upon the earth by the Great Spirit, who
lived beyond the sun, to instruct the red men how to make
weapons that would kill the elk and buffalo a long distance,
how to cure diseases, and how to ask relief of the Great
Spirit, when want, calamity, and danger assailed them.

 
eS Ke

me

DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI. 151

This discourse had very little effect upon the minds of
the Indians, for the fear and amazement, which had taken
possession of their minds at the report of the pistols, the
first that had ever sounded through their solitudes, were
fast wearing away. Already hostile indications were brew-
ing, threatening danger and retribution, when at this junc-
ture, a large crane flew high in the air above their heads,
and M. Joliet, at a sign from the monk, raised his fowling-
piece with which he was very expert, and, at the crack of
the gun, the bird fell from its airy height, upon the ground.
The astonishment of the Indians was at its climax. They
knew that the death of the bird was, in some manner con-
nected with the gun, but the way—the means—were all a
mystery. They examined the body of the crane with sus-
picion, fear, and curiosity. They saw the blood exuding
from several parts of its body, and long was the talk, and
many were the conjectures, without arriving at a satisfactory
conclusion.

Father Marquette, wishing to take advantage of these
feelings of wonder on the part of the Indians, selected from
a little package a few strips of cloth and some beads, which
he offered in exchange for the captive. Rattlesnake was_
the interpreter on the occasion, and he urged the Kansas to
the acceptance of the offer, and by no means to offend the
White Prophet, who bore a charmed life, and spoke the
words of the Great Spirit, who had sent him on the earth.

The sight of the coloured cloth and beads delighted the
Indians greatly, and they consented to give up the exquisite
enjoyment of burning the captive, in exchange. The In-
dian by nature isa trader, and the Kansas, having com-
menced a barter, were desirous of conducting the business
in a wholesale manner, and offered the three other
prisoners who were squaws for the looking-glass and gun.
Father Marquette would willingly have purchased with
trinkets of some sort these prisoners, but he knew that they
were a long distance from their nation, and, if turned loose,

 

 
 

152 LEGENDS,

would probably perish from hunger, or be again taken cap-
tive by some party of prowling Indians. He knew also that

there was no danger of their lives as they were women, and.

probably their condition among the Kansas would not be
worse than in their own country : with either, they would
be nothing more than slaves. He, therefore, refused any
further trade among the Indians, except, for beaten Indian
corn (hominy), and venison or buffalo meat. The Indians
had but asmall portion of any of the wanted articles ; rarely
on any occasion carrying in their war excursions any
quantity of provisions, relying solely on the accidental
fruits of the chase, to supply their exigencies.

The voyagers and the Kansas Indians mingled freely and
socially together, and Father Marquette, M. Joliet, and
the Algonquin Indians they had with them, sat in a circle
and partook of the rough food of their new acquaintances.
M. Joliet was an especial favourite with the leader of the
Kansas’ band, for he had taken the chief aside, and given
him a suck of good brandy, which so won upon the affec-
tions of the savage that he patted the Frenchman upon
the cheek, and, taking the three. fresh Shawnee scalps,
hung them around his neck, and was very anxious to
colour his face after the manner of a Kansas warrior.
M. Joliet had wished to make a favourable impres-
sion upon the Indians, for he contemplated establish-
ing trading-posts in those countries outside the pale of
civilization, where he would exercise a monopoly, and,
having no opposition, the profits, in the trade of peltries,
yvould be enormous; yet he did not, by any means, relish
the unpleasant odour arising from the human scalps hung
around his neck in a half decomposed state, and decidedly
disapproved of the attempt of his new friend to bring him
nearer to his resemblance, by besmearing his features with
paint. The brandy had acted as a charm upon the chief,
and, despite the refusal of M. Joliet, and his determined
resistance, he was struggling to carry into effect his friendly

   

  
  

 

 

DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI. 153

designs, when Father Marquette, seeing the distress of his
friend, held the mirror he had in a position where the
chief had a fair view of his efforts to smear the face of M.
Joliet. Directly the Kansas saw himself struggling in the
reflecting glass, he uttered a whoop that rang far and wide
through the little island, and commenced dancing and
capering around the monk, and was soon joined by the rest
of the party, who yelled, laughed, and threw themselves
into the most ridiculous attitudes. The press was so great
in their anxiety to see their red visages reflected, that
Father Marquette, to escape from the mass, released his
hold of the article, which operated like the golden apple of
yore among the rival goddesses, creating envy, animosity,
and contest. Each would have the prize—but, in the pul-
ling and hauling, the glass was first divested of its case, and
finally broken into many fragments; and then the squab-
ling died away by degrees, and quiet was restored.

Father Marquette was the first white man who had ever
seen the mouth of the Pekitanoni (Missouri), and he planted
a pole, to which was appended the flag of France, and,
nailed to it, was a.small wooden crucifix. He then chanted
the Te Deum and the De Profundis, and, taking a little
bottle of holy water, sprinkled some on the earth and some
on the tawny inhabitants—blessing, at the same time, it
and them in an impressive prayer to the Great Master whose
livery he wore, and to whose services he had dedicated his
life.

It was a scene worthy the pencil of a Titian, a Phidias,
or an Angelo, The savages were all seated on the earth,
preserving the most unbroken silence, They did not under-
stand the words, but felt their influence, and looked, won-
dering and attentive, upon the monk. He was on bended
knees, with eyes fixed upon the crucifix, asking that the
grace of Heaven, and the light of the Gospel, should rest
upon, and irradiate the wide land and its benighted inhabi-
tants; that temples and shrines should spring up in the

   

  
 

  

154 LEGENDS,

wilderness, from which the ministry of Christ should go
forth, with fostering care, to gather all sheep into the fold,
and unite all men in the holy bond of brotherhood. Never
had religion a firmer votary than that monk, who, in 16738,
discovered the Upper Mississippi and the Missouri Rivers.
From a boy, he had thirsted for the waters of eternal truth,
and had dedicated his life in persuading his fellow-man to
drink from the same pure fountain. His labour was a
“‘Jabour of love.” He asked no reward, no emolument ;
he penetrated the extreme wilderness that he might plant
the cross of Christ, and dispense religion and happiness to
man.

Father Marquette took good care to send off the captive
he had purchased from the Kansas, for fear that they might
change their minds when he had departed, and, nullifying
the bargain, consign him again to the stake. Nor was the
young warrior anxious to remain; and, having been pro-
vided with a bow and arrow, and presented with a knife by
the monk, he sounded the war-whoop of the Shawnees, and,
bounding into a canoe, was soon paddling across to the
east side af the Mississippi.

The voyagers took a friendly leave of the Indians, who
were very anxious for them to visit their nation, and, at
parting, made a kind of adoration to Father Marquette,
whom they regarded as a being of celestial origin.

That night, whilst they were eating their supper of cooked
hominy, the monk asked Rattlesnake whether he knew the
legend concerning the origin of Indian corn—he having
understood that there was a legend of that kind current
among the tribes ?

“The mother of Rattlesnake,” replied the Algonquin
warrior, “told it to him when his days were few, and he
stood at her knees.”

“ Tell it to us, my friend,” said the monk, ‘‘ for it must
be a curious narrative, and full of interest. There is some-
thing wild, romantic, and often instructive in these alle-

   

  
DISCOVERY OF THE PEKITANONI. 155

gorical relations, which tradition commemorates ; and I am
anxious to hear this remarkable legend.”’

“The White Prophet shall hear the legend of the Indian
corn, as related to Rattlesnake by his mother,”’ replied the
chief, lighting his pipe, and arranging a piece of buffalo-
skin beneath him,

LxeGenp or Inp1an Corn,

“ Once, when the world was young, and there were but
few red men upon it, there was a chief whose wife bore him
many children. Every summer added one, and sometimes
two to his family ; and they became so numerous, that the
chief could not give them a sufficient supply of meat to
satisfy their appetites, and the children were continually
squalling in the wigwam, ‘The chief, however, bore all the
ills of the wigawam without a murmur, and followed the
chase night and day, that he might satisfy the hunger of
his children.

«In those days, the red men all lived together in peace
and friendship. There was no war; and _no scalp-lock
hung from the door of the lodges.

* The chief, by his great patience, and his skill in hunt-
ing, at length raised his large family, until his eldest son
reached the stature of manhood. The young man had the
fear of the ‘ Great Spirit’ in his heart; and, like his father,
toiled patiently in the chase, that he might assist in pro-
viding food for his brothers and sisters. In those days, all
of the promising young men, at their entrance into man-
hood, had to separate themselves from the tribe, and retire
into the forest, to see if the Great Spirit would grant them
some request. During this time, they were neither to eat
nor drink, but were to spend their time in thinking intently
on the request they were making to the Manito,

‘The son of the chief, as I said before, was good and

 
 

  

156 LEGENDS.
noble, and his life had been one of labour for his brothers and
sisters, The time for his fast and vision had now come; and
taking leave of his father, brothers, and sisters, he went far
away from the lodges. When he had gone a long distance
in the forest, he commenced praying to the Great Spirit, and
to ask a request which he had long garnered in his heart
for this occasion. He had often felt how frequently the
chase disappointed the red men, and how often their fami-
lies had gone to sleep hungry, because they had no meat ;
and he had long determined, when his fasting and dreaming
hour would come, that he would ask the Great Spirit to
give to the red man some article of food more certain than
the meat obtained in the chase. All of that day, the youth
prayed, and thought of his request ; and neither water, or
food entered his mouth. At night, with a bright hope in
his young heart, he lay down to sleep. Soon, he hada
vision. He saw a youth, magnificently attired, coming
towards him. He was clad in robes of green; and green
plumes hung gracefully about his comely countenance. He
approached the youth, with a smile upon his lips as bright
as the morning ; and, gently taking him by the hand, thus
addressed him :

«My dear young friend, the Great Spirit has heard
your prayer, because your heart is fresh as the mountain
stream—overflowing with purity and goodness. But the
boon you ask is a great boon; and you must pass through
a great trial of suffering and patience before you will see
the accomplishment of your wishes. You must first try
your strength with me, and suffer nothing to enter your
lips until I am overcome, before you will receive your
reward. Come, the night wears apace; let us wrestle
amid the trees.’

“Ostrand (for that was the name of the youth) hada
big heart, and knew no fear; so he closed with his graceful
antagonist, whom he found endued with muscles like the
oak, and he had the wind of the wolf, that never exhausted

    
   

  
LEGEND OF INDIAN CORN, P57

with effort. Long and long they wrestled; but, so nearly
balanced was their strength, that neither could claim any
decided advantage. The day then commenced to dawn ;
and the stranger then said to Ostrand :

“‘* Enough, my friend, for this time. You have strug-
gled manfully. Still resist your appetites, give yourself up
wholly to prayer and fasting, and you will receive the gra-
tification of your desires. Farewell until to-night, when I
will return, and wrestle with you again.’ Then the young
visitor, with his green plumes waving over his head, and
the green and yellow vestments with which he was clad,
expanding like wings, took his flight towards the skies, and
soon became lost to the vision of the young Indian.

‘“‘ When Ostrand awoke, he found himself panting like a
stag when chased by the wolves, and the water dropped
from his body; yet his heart was light, for he knew a sign
had come from the Manito. Although he was very hungry
that day, and some berries and grapes tempted awfully his
hungry palate, he, however, resisted successfully these
natural desires; and fixed his mind upon the boon for
which he was struggling, and the good it would bring upon
the red man.

‘Night came, and Ostrand closed his eyes in sleep; and
lo! there was a continuance of his former vision. He saw
coming towards him the youth he had seen the night pre-
ceding. The silken wings of verdure and gold were gliding
through the air with great velocity, and the green plumes
of his head waving in graceful beauty. They two then again
commenced the wrestle, as they did the night before; and
although Ostrand had neither eaten nor drunk, he felt his
strength greater than in the previous conflict; and he
obtained some signal advantages over his celestial competi-
tor. They were struggling together, when the morning
commenced to look on the world, and he of the green
plumes thus addressed the Indian youth :

“ «My friend, on my next trial, you will be the victor.

E

 
 

  

158 LEGENDS.

Now listen how I instruct you to take advantage of your
conquest. When my efforts will cease, I shall die. Strip
me of my green and yellow garments, and bury me in soft
and new-made earth. Visit my grave week by week, for,
in a little time, I will return to life in the form of a plant,
which you will readily recognize as me by the resemblance.
Let no weeds or grass be near me, to keep the dew and sun-
shine from my green leaves, and, once a month, draw the
fresh earth to my body, that it may grow and strengthen.
When you see ears shoot from my sides, and see that the
silk, which shall fall from my top, will commence to dry,
then pull the ear, strip it of its garments, as you do me
when I am dead, and place the milky grain before the fire ;
that will cook the outside without destroying any of the
juicy substance. Then all the race of man will have a food
more sweet, and stronger than any they have ever known
before. There shall be no more hunger upon the earth,
except among those who have a lazy spirit, or whom the
Bad Manito claims as his own.’

«Then, spreading his green and yellow pinions, he again
took his flight to the skies.

‘‘When Ostrand awoke, he felt very weak from hunger,
it being the third day of his fast, and it required all of the
resolution of which he was master to restrain the gratifica-
tion of his appetite. At this juncture, that his resolution
and patience might be put to the severest test, his father
sought him, bringing a bountiful supply of food, which he
urged him to eat, saying that the Great Spirit did not exact
a fast that was detrimental to health.

“ Ostrand refused the food brought by his father, asking
him not to press him to the indulgence, as it would injure
his welfare. His father, having the greatest confidence in
his judgment, no more insisted, but departing, left him to
himself. Ostrand passed the day in fasting and prayer,
and, at nightfall, laid himself down to sleep, and then,
true to his promise, his friend of the green plumes again

 

aay

  
LEGEND OF INDIAN CORN. 159

appeared in his trance, and again the wrestle com-
menced,

* Ostrand was exceedingly weak from his long fasting ;
but, when engaged in the conflict, he felt his heart grow
big within him, his arms grow strong as the young oaks of
the forest, and, after a short struggle, he threw his antago-
nist to the ground, who told Ostrand that he was dying,
and to remember the instructions that he had given him.
In accordance with these, Ostrand stripped the body of its
vesture of mingled green and yellow, and, carefully digging
a grave, deposited it in the soft earth. He thought that
the earth adhered to his hand in a strange manner, and at
that moment he awoke, and fvund in his hand a seed, such
as he had never seen before. He knew that the Manito
had heard his prayer, and that this grain was the body of
his friend. He then went from the forest to the prairie,
and made soft the earth, and planted the strange seed sent
to him in his dreaming time.

“Ostrand then returned to his father’s lodge, and the
whole family was anxious to know if he had received any
sign from the Manito during the season of his fast, but he
evaded all inquiry, and kept his important secret.

«Every morning, before the sun’s bright rays had looked
upon the earth, Ostrand was beside the grave of his young
friend, and carefully kept away the grass and the weeds.
On the ninth sun, he saw a green plant shooting from the
earth, and, as he looked upon its green blades, he knew, at
once, the friend with whom he wrestled. Once each
month, he drew the fresh earth to the stalk, which grew
day by day, until it far overtopped the stature of Ostrand;
and the shoots began to protrude from its side, from which
a mass of silken fibres issued. In a short time, it com-
menced to dry, as it had been foretold, and then Ostrand
invited his father, mother, brothers, and sisters to the spot,
and showed them what the Great Spirit had sent him at
his fasting season. He then pulled one of the two ears,

 
 

  

160 LEGENDS.

stripped off its slough, and roasted it before the fire. The
whole family took a taste of the new food, and they loved
it. The other ear was kept for seed, and, in a few years,
the red man had plenty of the food which the Great Spirit
had sent them, and the name of Ostrand has been handed
down through all the tribes. This is the legend of ‘ Indian
Corn.’ ”

‘“‘ An interesting legend, truly,” said Father Marquette
to M. Joliet ; ‘‘ and as Indian corn, as a nutriment, will be
diffused throughout the earth, so will this tradition spread.
It will live as one of the records of the red men, when they
have passed from the earth—their existence lost, or blended
with the Caucasian race, which these vast rivers will soon
bring into every portion of this new country.”

“They were, indeed, a strange and barbarous race
before the advent of the white man,” replied M. Joliet;
“‘no money, no comfort, no trade—nothing but war and
hunting. Many of them have now, at all events, the
chances of the comforts of life, by giving skins in ex-
changefor useful articles, to which they were before
strangers.”

“And they have a chance of procuring other things—
fire-water and weapons of war, which are fast proving their
curse, and are the fruitful cause of their increasing degra-
dation,” said the monk. ‘‘ Rest assured, as far as my
opinion extends, the Indian has become both morally and
mentally debased by his contact with the white man. He
is no longer the noble specimen of the wild man, with his
natural instincts in full force, and uncorrupted. His proud,
lofty independence, his simplicity, and his innocence, di-
rectly he comes in contact with the low vices of the white
man, at once leave him—his nature shrinks and changes,
and all that we can admire appears to receive a poisonous
blight, and leaves him a poor, ruined, and blasted thing.”

“It is a sad truth,” replied M, Joliet; ‘‘ for, see the
difference between the noble specimens we mingled with

 

  
LEGEND OF INDIAN CORN. 161

to-day, at the mouth of the Pekitanoni, compared to the
degraded set in Canada.”

Rattlesnake, who appeared to have been asleep, at this
juncture rose to a sitting posture, and said:

‘* As the forests fall, the red man must wither; the Great
Spirit has tied their lives together with a cord. As the oak
and birch fall, he must sicken and die: the white man lives
in the sunbeam, but the Indian perishes.”

““ Not so, my friend,” said Father Marquette; “ the
great God who made that glorious luminary, made it as a
source of joy and blessing to every human and living thing.
It vivifies, and blights not; and it is to the low vices which
he is taught, and to which he surrenders himself, that the
red man owes his moral and physical decline. Civilization
should bless him with proper teachers, for he is a child of
simplicity, and could be easily trained, under proper influ-
ence, to moral and intellectual greatness.”’

‘The red man’s life will perish with the forest,” said the
chief, sullenly ; ‘‘ he will follow the setting sun, until all his
race are gathered to the ‘ happy valley.’ ”

The chief again laid down in moody silence, which nei-
ther the monk nor M. Joliet felt inclined to interrupt.

Day by day, the little boat kept gliding down the Missis-
sippi, until it came to the mouth of the Arkansas; and, as
M. Joliet had been suffering for some days with dysentery
and fever, they landed in that locality; and, erecting a little
lodge of reeds, which everywhere grew abundant, remained —
several days, until the trader had recovered somewhat from
the attack, and then, at his request, the boat was turned up

stream, and the voyagers commenced their return.
** * ** * * # * *

Deatu or Fatuxrr Marquette.

This hazardous voyage by Father Marquette and M.
Joliet was published in France, and created a great sensa-
5

 
   

  

162 LEGENDS.

tion among all classes. Every ship that departed from the
seaports of that country was freighted with hundreds of
emigrants, whose features radiated with bright, sunny
hopes doomed soon to be clouded and destroyed. Most
all, in a few years, lay “‘ festering in their shrouds,” from
the endemics of the climate and the murderous tomahawk
of the savages.

Father Marquette, with a love and devotion to his calling
which never flagged, continued to mingle with the Indians,
trying in every manner to make familiar to their nature the
light of the Holy Scriptures, and to teach them, by gentle
induction, the amenities of civilized life. Where other
white men were scattering vices and their attendant evils,
he was instilling truth and inculcating virtue. His life was
devoted to Religion, and even in death he was kneeling at
her altar.

The death of Father Marqette was in keeping with his
life. Some years after his voyage down the Mississippi, he
was travelling between Chicago and Michillemackinaw, on
the banks of a river that bore his name, when he stopped,
and requested his attendants to await him, as he wished to
occupy himself a few moments in prayer. He retired some
distance, and, not returning after a protracted time, his fol-
lowers went in the direction he had gone, and found him
kneeling by the staff on which was the little silver crucifix,
with his glazed eyes upon the suggestive symbol, and his
limbs stiff in death. The Indians buried the crucifix with
him, and the grave of the White Prophet was always looked
upon with respect and affection,

 
THE. MAIDEN’S ROCK.

& Logent of the Aississiput.

—_ o-——

Wurrer the swift Mississippi diverges into a broad basin,
called Lake Pepin, there is a mound of rocks on the east
eide towering to the height of six hundred and seventy feet,
of which there is related the following legend :—

«Many years ago, there was a powerful Indian nation
who had a village on the banks of the great river, just
above where the rocks lift their craggy front to the skies.
The Chippewas were the most powerful of all the Indian
tribes of the Upper Mississippi, except the great nation of
the Sioux, or Dacotahs. One claimed a vast tract of land
west of the river, and the other a large portion on the east
side, and between the two there was a hereditary feud, and
a continual warfare. The Chippewas and Dacotahs could
not meet unless the bow-string twanged, the hatchet
gleamed, and the death-struggle ensued.

“ At length, a great warrior was born among the Daco-
tahs, who was swift as the wolf in the chase, and terrible as
an enraged buffalo when on the war-path. His girdle and
his mocassins were strung with scalp-locks of his enemies,
and he had a robe made of the skins of the fawn, on which,
in ornamental symbols, were inscribed the conflicts in
which he had been engaged, and the victories he had
achieved. From his prowess, he was made great Chief of
the Dacotahs; and, when he led his warriors in the Chip-
pewah country, success always attended the expedition, and
he would return to his country with reeking scalps and
many prisoners. The Chippewas always fled before him

 
 

  

164 LEGENDS.

like the deer before the wolf; for no warrior dare risk his
scalp in single contest with so renowned a chief.

“ The Chief of the Chippewas, when young, could boast
of his strength and deeds; but his blood had become chilled
by the frosts of age, and no more his heart beat with
anxious throbs to meet his enemies. He mourned for the
youth he had lost, and for the many warriors who had
fallen before the great Chief of the Dacotahs. He had an
only child—a daughter—whose nature was sweet and
gentle as the summer’s breeze nestling amid the wild blos-
soms on the plains, and who was beautiful as morning. He
called together the great warriors of his tribe, and thus
addressed them :—

“* Warriors and young braves of the mighty Chippewas!
do you remember your fathers? and why do you make
your mothers hang their heads with shame? Your fathers
did not turn their backs when they heard the yells of the
Dacotah dogs upon their track, but their ears gladdened at
the sound, their hearts beat strong in their bosoms, and
‘their hands grasped their weapons to defend them. They
sent the dogs yelping back to their own country, and then
they durst not cross the great river which bounded the
Chippewa country. Then the great tribe of the Chippewas
looked with a proud heart over their prairies and forest,
and the elk and buffaloes which trod upon their soil, and could
call them all their own; but these bright days have passed,
and a dark cloud rests upon the hearts of the Chippewa
mothers, for they bring forth no warriors now to defend
them from their foes, and battle for their wigwams.

‘‘* Warriors and chiefs! let the light again rest upon the
hearts of your squaws and mothers. Once more turn upon
the Dacotah wolves, and let their bodies stink on our prai-
ries; and whatever young brave will take the scalp of
Tehong, their chief, he shall be my son, and the young
blossom of my lodge, Wee-Wallah, shall be his own.’
“The young warriors of the tribe had hung their heads

 

  
THE MAIDEN’S ROCK. 165

with shame at the rebuke of their chief; but, when he
announced his intention of giving his lovely daughter, Wee-
Wallah, to the one who would take the scalp of Tehong,
the great Chief of the Dacotahs, they felt their hearts warm
for the conflict, and eager to strive for such a prize by
meeting their terrible enemy. Among the rest was a young
warrior who was the hope of his tribe. For many months
he had not been on the war-path, for, in a terrible encounter
with a bear, he had been so lacerated that for some time
his life had been despaired of; and, when he commenced to
recover, his convalescence was slow and protracted. He
had long loved Wee-Wallah, and the gentle maiden loved
him in return; and often they had met, after nightfall, in
the shadow of those piles of rocks which rear their lofty
summits on the romantic banks of Lake Pepin. His wounds
were not yet entirely healed, but he resolved to meet, on
the first opportunity, the terrible warrior who had scalped
the great braves of the Chippewas, and made the hearts of
the living chill and cower when his name was mentioned.
His strength had not returned to him, but he feared that
some fortunate warrior, animated by the great prize at
stake, might meet and conquer the Dacotah chief, and
claim Wee-Wallah as his reward. The thought was mad-
dening, and the Black Bear—for that was the name of the
young warrior since his successful conflict with the animal
bearing that name—took all the war accoutrements from
the place in which they had so long hung, and soon, with
painted visage and warlike attire, with the war-whoop
thrilling from his lips, he went from lodge to lodge, reviving
the drooping courage of the warriors, and warming their
hearts for the conflict.

“ As soon as it was known that the Black Bear was ready
for the war-path, the village was in a ferment of hope and
joy. ~All hoped that when the Dacotahs again visited the
country, they would be driven in disgrace across the Mis-
sissippi, and that the scalp of their mighty chief would hang
in the lodge of the Chippewa warrior.

 
 

  

166 LEGENDS,

“That night, the young braves acted as they do on all
important occasions, the prologue to the bloody contest in
which they would be soon engaged. A large pile of wood
was collected in an open space, and then the warriors, with
painted visages, and with their war-clubs clutched in their
hands, encircling the pile, after it was lit, commenced the
mysterious dance known as the scalp-dance. Gently at
first they commenced to shuffle as the flames greedily licked
the wood, and chanted their various battles and those of their
fathers ; by degrees, their motions became more quick—
their chant more loud—and their gestures more frequent,
until at last they danced in wild excitement around the
blaze, wielding the clubs and striking the air with vain
fury, as, in thought, they were dealing their death-blows
against their enemies. Their bloody instincts were all
aroused ; their recent defeats forgotten ; and they joyed in
the prospect of meeting again the Dacotah warriors.

‘«‘When the dance was in full force, and the Black Bear
saw that all the revengeful passions of his tribe were
aroused, without being observed, he absented himself from
the band of excited warriors, and wended his way to the
pile of lofty rocks on the lake, and there, according to
appointment, was Wee-Wallah, the lovely daughter of the
chief of the Chippewas.

‘She was standing in the dark shadow of the rocks, and,
as the footsteps of her lover broke the almost death-like
stillness of the place, she sprang lightly as a fawn to his
side, and welcomed him with all the warmth and confidence
of a first and holy affection. What passed between them,
have passed between other lovers before; their lips breathed
vows of eternal affection; their hearts beat in wild rapture
at the enjoyment of the present, and still more thrillingly
in anticipation of the future. One murky cloud would,
however, at times cross the bright firmament of Wee- Wal-
lah’s happiness. She knew that her lover was going to
meet the terrible chief of the Dacotahs, and then the light

 

>

  
>

THE MAIDEN’S ROCK. 167

of joy would dim in her eye, and a chill would creep
through her warm heart, wildly bounding under the glow-
ing impulses of love: but, when the Black Bear would ob-
serve the sadness on her features, and knew its cause, he
would promise her before another new moon would look
from the skies, to bring to her the reeking scalp of the
Dacotah chief, and then claim her as his own from her
father. Then, when Wee-Wallah heard these promises of
her lover, and looked upon his gallant bearing, the warm
blood would again rush to her heart, and her eyes again
stream with a flood of light, flowing from the fountains of
love and hope.

“The morning star had already risen in the east, and the
pheasants had commenced to flap the earth with their
wings at the near approach of day, when Black Bear, about
two miles down the river, thought he discovered some dark
objects gliding across the smooth surface of the lake; and,
on examining them more particularly, he discovered them
to be a large number of canoes approaching rapidly the
Chippewa shore. He instantly surmised that the Dacotahs
were coming to attack by surprise the Chippewa village,
and, after a few words of tender adieux to Wee-Wallah, he
rushed with the speed of the elk to the village, and quietly
endeavoured to give the alarm.

“Ina short space of time, the Chippewa warriors were
ready to be led against their foes; their hearts bounding
hopefully at the coming fight, as they were led by the great
warrior of their nation, the youthful but intrepid Black
Bear. They rushed along the shore of the lake for about a
mile, and then, at the command of their youthful leader,
took their station amid the trees, and, in silence, watched
the approach of the Dacotah warriors, whom they wished
to surprise, as they would be advancing to attack the village.
They had already heard the advancing tread, as they threw
themselves upon the ground to listen, and were momentarily
expecting their approach, when the sound of the tramp sud-

 
   

 
 

168 LEGENDS.

denly ceased, and no noise broke the deep stillness of the
night. Some skilful scout, whom the Dacotah Chief had
cautiously sent in advance, had discovered the Chippewas
as they were advancing, previous to forming their am-
buscade, and, quickly returning, they brought the intelli-
gence which caused the Dacotahs to halt until the dawn of
day, when they determined, if possible, to burn the Chip-
pewa village, and scalp the warriors who guarded it.

‘When the blush of morning glowed upon the east, and
night, with his chilly blasts, had commenced to retire, the
Dacotah warriors were in motion; and, advancing near to
the spot where the Chippewas were concealed, cautiously
commenced the contest by a loud and universal war-whoop,
which rang in a deafening noise through the forest, and
awoke a thousand echoes in its course. The war-whoop
thrilled likewise from the lips of the Chippewa warriors, as
they rushed eagerly to meet their foes, and, long before the
sun had risen from his ocean-bed, the work of death had
busily commenced.

“The warriors of both nations were nearly equal, but,
after fighting manfully for a little while, the Chippewa
warriors commenced to give way, and the old fears com-
menced to return as they heard the voice of the great
Dacotah Chief, loud as a blast, encouraging his warriors,
and saw the fresh scalps reeking from his belt. Black
Bear, with his heart bounding under the wild impulse of
battle, and his knife dripping with Dacotah blood, threw
himself in the way of the terrible warrior ; and, with muf-
fled yells of rage, the two chiefs closed in the death struggle.
In a moment, the bodies of both distilled torrents of blood
from gaping wounds; and then the knife of the Chippewa
pierced the heart of the Dacotah, and, with a faint attempt
to chant his death-song after he fell, he expired.

** At the fall of their great warriors, with a howl of de-
spairing vengeance, the Dacotahs fled, pursued by their
victorious enemies, with yells of victory and revengeful

 
THE MAIDEN’S ROCK. 169

fury ; but the steps of the Black Bear were not in the pur-
suit, nor was his voice singing its loud triumphant notes.
He had fallen by the side of his enemy, and, with laboured
strength having severed the scalp-lock, he became insen-
sible from the loss of blood, until he was carried near by
the rock which we have mentioned before, which stood by
the lake near the village. The warriors who were carrying
his insensible body, had placed it for a moment upon the
earth that they might rest their arms, when he opened his
eves from his trance, and, casting them wildly around him
until they fell upon the reeking scalp of the Dacotah Chief,
which the attendants had placed upon his bosom. A faint
smile then lit for awhile his death-like features, and he
spoke to the warriors around him, and commanded them,
when he died, to lay him at the foot of the lofty pile of
rocks before them.

“He then made signs to them to set him by the side of
a large tree, and, looking upon the sun, his lips murmured
some inarticulate sounds, and, as his spirit was gliding
from its mortal resting-place, it lingered for a moment to
give vitality to the eyes as they looked their last parting on
Wee-Wallah, who had rushed to the spot, and fell fainting
by the body of her lover, as life forsook it.

‘The whole nation of the Chippewas, though they had
almost totally destroyed the great number of Dacotah war-
riors who had crossed the Mississippi, were plunged in
grief at the death of Black Bear, who died so early in youth,
when his fame as a warrior had just commenced, He was
buried in the spot where he wished, and his requiem was
sung in the wild tones of the warriors of the nation, by
whom his deeds were chanted, and who collected all the
scalps he had taken, and hung them as trophies on his
grave. Then, the rites finished, all looked forward to the
future, and felt their hearts gladden at the bright prospect
which hope spread before them. No, not all.

“There was one to whom the pust was all—the future

 
 

  

170 LEGENDS.

nothing, Wee-Wallah had no hopes; they had been all
killed and rendered desolate when the cold hand of death
fell upon her lover, and, day by day, she would walk along
the towering pile of rocks, and linger around the spot where
he was buried. She was frequently heard, while sitting
near his grave, speaking to him, as if she saw his spirit in
the breeze, and listened to its ethereal whispers. Grief,
which so frequently destroys beauty, did not rifle her of a
single grace, but, on the contrary, it had given a more
touching expression to her loveliness. Many of the most
promising warriors of the nation sought her to adorn their
lodges, and one of these, the father of Wee-Wallah com-
manded her to look upon as her future husband. The young
maiden looked steadily upon the countenance of her parent,
and, reading there a sternness and inflexibility of purpose,
soon, under some pretext, left the lodge, and rapidly ap-
proached the rocks, under whose dark shadows she had ofte:

heard the voice of her beloved, and at whose base his manly
form was festering in the earth. There was a nervousness
in her gait, and a wildness in her eyes which bespoke dis-
traction. She climbed to a lofty cliff, which overhung the
grave of Black Bear, and then, with outstretched arms, her
black hair floating in the breeze, and the name of
lover upon her lips, she leaped from the lofty height, and
fell dead upon his grave.”

From that day to this, in commemoration of the tragical
occurrence, the towering piles of rocks were called “ Maiden’s
Rock,” and to this day they are known to the voyager of
the Mississippi by that name, and have become remarkable
with the legend connected with them,

 

  
4
“I
em

THE CALUMET ROCKS.

& Leqenk of the Missouri.

meee} cemnemens

Between the Missouri and St. Peter’s rivers there is a
beautiful range of high lands, extending a great distance,
known to this day by its French appellation of Céteau du
Prairie (hill of the plain). On one part of this beautiful
elevation are situated a few insignificant peaks of flesh-
coloured stone, on the summit of which is carved an array
of symbols, strangely blended together, covering every por-
tion of the surface, and typical of the spiritual creeds of the
various tribes of Indians who have visited them for so many
years. Céteau du Prairie is the classic ground of the In-
dian ; and the Calumet Rocks are as sweet and dear to
them, from spiritual associations, as the shrine of Beth-
lehem to the Christian, or the tomb at Mecca to the mis-
taken but faithful followers of the Prophet.

Sometime at the close of spring, 1777, Blanchette Chas-
seur, the founder of St. Charles, was on one of the excur-
sions which he frequently took far in the uncultivated wilds
of the country, when he discovered some bluffs in the dis-
tance of a red colour, and proposed to his companion,
whose black garb, rosary, and crucifix, indicated that he
was one of the order of Jesuits, to pay them a visit of
examination.

‘If I am not mistaken,” said the priest, ‘‘ those are the
rocks which are so celebrated in the traditionary annals of
the Indian, and from which they obtain that flesh-coloured
stone that is used in the manufacture of their pipes. It is
their belief that a pipe is of no value or virtue unless ob-
tained from these rocks,” At this moment, a noble stag

 
    
  
  
   
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
     

i\*

LEGENDS.

bounded from a coppice near by and fell dead at their feet,
while the sharp report of a rifle told the cause of his fate.

“There is a white man emerging from that wood and

coming towards us,” said Chasseur, ‘‘ and he is a French-
man to boot. How strange it is that we have such a
natural affinity to blend with the barbarous customs and
vagabond life of the Indian! Let me go as far into the
wilds as I may, I am certain to come across some strolling
hunter or roving trapper, who, from choice, lives outside of
the pale of civilization, and all of their instincts, tastes, and
habits, have become identified with those of the savage.”

At this moment, the hunter came to where the deer had
fallen, and immediately raised his leather hat, made of deer-
skin, and bent his knee in token of reverence to Father
Ballon, and then shook hands, cordially, with both of the
strangers.

The sun was now pouring down, in full force, his meridian
heat, and the hunter suggested to Chasseur and the priest
that they should render him a little assistance in skinning
the deer, and then they should all retire to the grove from
where he fired the fatal shot, where they would find a cool
retrett from the scorching rays of a vertical sun. This
comfortable proposition was agreed to immediately, and the
hunter, almost with the despatch of thought, flayed the
animal, and, after cutting away the most tender and succu-
lent portions, took up the skin and led the way to the
thicket, followed by his newly-found companions.

The grove was indeed a delicious spot; the trees growing
from a dale situated in the open plain, full and clustering
at the tops, forming a complete umbrageous canopy, and
the whole so exquisitely beautiful, that, had it existed in
classic times, it had become as famous as the Egerian
grotto, or the ambrosial retreats of the Paphian Isle. Their
horses were tethered at a convenient distance, where they
could crop the luxuriant grass which grew in great abun-
dance, A fire was kindled, and the party was in a short

 

= eae

So

ates
 

 

—_

ae

 

    

THE CALUMET ROCKS,

 

time feasting on the flesh of the animal which a few hours
before had sped with the swiftness of the wind across the
prairie.

The hunter, like most of those who follow that roving
life, was remarkable for his humour, anecdote, and good
nature; he was an adept in the rough-and-ready mode of
cooking, and the steaks of venison which he broiled upon
the coals had a relish and sweetness which far exceeded
anything that had ever come from the gridiron or chafing-
dish. During the repast, the founder of St. Charles took a
silver canteen from his pocket, filled with eau-de-vie
(brandy), on which his name was beautifully inscribed, and
passed it first to Father Ballon, who, being fatigued and
weak with heat and physical exertion, indulged in no
sanctimonious cant by pretending a refusal, but at once
took a sufficient supply of the strengthening beverage, and
passed the vessel to the hunter, who grasped it with both
hands, and applied the aperture to his lips, from which he
did not withdraw it until full half of the contents had passed
to his stomach. After finishing his draught, seeing the
name of Chasseur engraved upon the side, a flood of feeling
appeared suddenly to have rushed upon him, for his strong
frame shook with emotion, and, looking eagerly at Chasseur
for a momeut, he exclaimed: ‘ Blanchette, don’t you re-
member your old playmate, Guillaume Levin, from Rouen,
whose life you saved while he was drowning in the Seine ?”

“ It is indeed so,” replied Chasseur, warmly embracing his
friend; ‘‘ we have long thought that you were no more, for
it has been many years since you were pressed into service
as a sailor, while you were celebrating too convivially your
birthday with some of your wild companuions. [I little
thought that I should ever see you again, and how miracu-
lous it appears that I should meet you in the wilds of
America. Strange and inexplicable are our destinies, and
their course is beyond human ken and human guidance.”
“Not so, my friend,” said Father Ballon, mildly, ‘‘ to

  
 
 

174 LEGENDS.

man is given the power, by the Giver of all good, to con-
trol his actions, and to exercise a despotic control on all
that pertains to himself; all steps he makes in the path of
life are the acts of volition, and not the effects of invincible
impulse ; as ‘we sow we reap,’ whether it be thistles or
figs. Let man do the duties commanded by Divine pre-
cepts, and he will never complain of fatality.”

“Tell me, my friend,” said the hunter, without giving
Chasseur time to reply to the beautiful Christian and con-
vincing doctrine of the priest, ‘what has become of my
father, who used to sit so constantly mending shoes in his
little shop?”

‘He has paid, some years back, the last debt to nature,”
replied Chasseur, ‘‘ and the holy Father here shrived him
on his dying day.”

“He died with hope in his heart and the cross to his lips,”
said the priest; ‘‘but now, my son, tell us the history of
yon rocks, which, if I be not much mistaken, are the cele-
brated Calumet Rocks, from which the Indians of all tribes
obtain their pipes.”

“They are the same,” replied Guillaume Levin, ‘‘ and the
Indians travel many hundred miles to get the red stone to
make their pipes; and, while they are on that rock, not an
Indian will draw a bow or wield a hatchet against his most
deadly enemy. ‘Two years ago I was sitting under a pro-
jecting rock on one of those bluffs, when I saw an Indian
advancing on horseback. I kept hid from his view,
that I might watch his motions; for I could see by his
rigging of feathers, paint, and beads, that he was a chief of
some tribe, which I judged to be of the Crows, from his
long hair—nor was | mistaken. He was a powerful fellow,
armed with his bow, arrow, and shield, and his horse was
as noble an animal as ever trod the prairie.

«“When he arrived at the base of the bluffs, he turned
his steed loose, and walked upon the rocks in silence for a
few moments; his lips moved as if he was in prayer, and

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  

 

THE CALUMET ROCKS. 175

then he took a quantity of tobacco and scattered it upon
the rocks. These ceremonies being finished, he took
leisurely a good smoke, and then commenced hammering
upon the rocks until he had knocked off a large piece,
which he commenced to fashion into a pipe. I had just
made up my mind to show myself and form his acquaint-
ance, when I saw another Indian coming rapidly on horse-
back to the bluffs, and as I was anxious to see how these
two Indians would meet each other, I continued to lie
snug where I was, leisurely watching him who advanced,
He did not abate his speed until he drew up at the foot of
the same bluff where the-other Indian was, and, like him,
turned loose his horse, took a portion of tobacco, which he
scattered upon the rocks, after having mumbled some
prayers; and then, filling a pipe, he proceeded to the spot
where the other Indian was manufacturing a pipe, and
took a seat beside him. He then lit his pipe, and, after
drawing one or two whiffs, handed it to the other, who,
after drawing it in like manner, returned it to the owner.
“They seemed the best friends in the world, by their
actions, but, as they did not speak together, I became a
little suspicious of their true feelings toward each other, and
concluded that I should see a little fun, at the winding-up.
I was not long kept in suspense, for the last fellow, having
knocked off as much stone as he wanted, caught his horse
and prepared to depart. He was not as large as the Crow
Indian, but he was splendidly dressed, after the manner of
the Comanche chiefs, and was armed, like the Crow, with
bow, arrow, and shield. The Crow, when he saw the
Comanche preparing to depart, made like preparation, and
the two left the bluffs together, keeping in company until
they were about three hundred yards distant from the rocks.
“I saw now, from the movements of the two, that a
battle was going to commence, for they had separated, and
commenced riding round the field in various evolutions, as
if each was endeavouring to out-manceuvre the other. The

 

  
 
 

176 LEGENDS.

first shot came from the bow of the Comanche, but the
Crow caught it upon his shield of dried buffalo hide, and it
fell harmless. Then the war commenced in earnest, and
arrow after arrow flew from the bow of each, as they
thought they discovered a vantage place.

““It was the handsomest sight that I ever witnessed,
seeing these warriors riding in full speed around each other,
now in an erect position, now hanging on one side of the
horse, sustaining themselves with one foot upon his back,
and shooting under the animal’s neck while in full speed.
How they keep from falling while riding in that manner,
I have never been able to tell, though it is a common thing
among them.

** The Crow, seeing he could not hit the Comanche, aimed
an arrow at the head of the horse, which brought him to
the ground, and in the fall the Comanche lost his shield,
and, being unprotected, the next arrow of the Crow pierced
his neck.

“T had always, from a boy, hated foul play in a fight,
and, seeing the Crow had acted unfairly, I drew a bead. on
him as he was going to scalp the Comanche, and he fell
dead in his tracks. I then went up to the Comanche, who
was not dead, and, raising him up, gave him a little water
which I had with me in askin. He very much revived ;
and, looking to me, made a sign if I was going to scalp
him ; for a warrior to lose his scalp i is looked upon as the
greatest dishonour. I gave him to understand his head
should not be touched—that I was his friend, and had
killed his enemy, the Crow. A faint smile came over his
features; and, unloosing his belt from his waist, which
was richly ornamented, and contained a Spanish dagger of
curious workmanship, he made signs for me to keep them.
He was rapidly sinking ; and, as I supported him against
my knee, his last glance was directed towards those Calu-
met bluffs, which all the Indians look upon with veneration.
Here is the dagger,’ continued the hunter, showing a

 

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
  
 
 
 
 
    
 
 

   
THE CALUMET ROCKS, 177

richly ornamented blade, with a silver handle, ‘‘ which the
Comanche gave me; and I buried him at the foot of the
bluffs on which he had rested his last looks upon earth. I
left the carcass of the Crow for the wolves; and took the
horses of both the dead warriors, and drove them, with
some others, many hundred miles to the Spanish settle-
ments, where I sold them.”’

“That is a very interesting anecdote, my son,” said the
priest; ‘‘ but I am very anxious to hear the reason that the
Indians have such reverence for yonder bluffs ; and why it
is that their pipes must be made from stone gotten there?
If you can relate to me something which will enlighten me
on these points, [ shall be much gratified.”

‘* The tradition connected with those Calumet bluffs, as
told me by a chief of the Dacotahs, is as follows,” replied
the trapper :—

Lecenp or Tue Catumer Rocks.

“Many hundred years ago, the Great Spirit saw the
beauty of this highland ridge, which we call Céteau du
Prairie; and he thought it the most perfect andfairest part
of the great creation he had made: he determined on
making it his resting-place ; and it became still more beau-
tiful.

“The name of the Great Spirit, and the loveliness of the
place, attracted the attention of all the nations of the red
men; and they came day by day in countless numbers, and
brought their choicest skins and most savoury meat as an
offering to their God. The Great Spirit then loved the red
men—received their offerings, and commanded them never
to draw the bow and arrow against each other, but to live
in unity and friendship. The red men obeyed for a long
time this precept; and happiness was on all the earth. No

 
178 LEGENDS.

squaw mourned her husband; and no sealp-locks hung
from the door of the lodges.

“One day, the Bad Spirit, who likes to see men engaged
in strife and bloodshed, was flying through the earth in the
form of a crow, and lit upon this spot, that he might rest
himself. He saw the lodge of the Great Spirit on yonder
bluffs ; he saw the beautiful plains which had been beauti-
fied by his hands; he saw the red men contentedly chasing
the elk and the buffalo, with hearts of gladness in their
bosoms ; and he grew envious at the prospect. He deter-
mined to vex the Great Spirit, destroy the beauty of the
scene, and blight the happiness of the people.

‘‘He soon commenced his works of wickedness. He
sowed in the hearts of the red men discontent, envy, and
malice; and one tribe became arrayed against another.
The work of death began ; the war-whoop sounded through
the whole country ; blood flowed upon the earth; and the
Bad Spirit laughed at his success,

“The Great Spirit, when he saw the red men killing
each other, commanded them to turn from each other their
weapons, and live in peace; but they heeded not his edicts.
The warriors had gotten a taste of blood, and, urged on by
the Bad Manito, the red men were falling by each other’s
hands, like the leaves in autumn.

“The Great Spirit, grieved at the destruction that was
going on, told the red men, if they still would slay and
murder, yet all of the region of the Céteau du Prairie
should be regarded as holy ground, and no blood should
be spilt on it; but the Bad Spirit swayed the heart of the
red men, and, when they met upon this ground, they heeded
not the injunction that had been given them, but fought as
before, and deluged the earth with blood. Then the Great
Spirit arose in his wrath, and called all the clouds together,
and poured a mighty deluge upon the world: soon the
plains were like a mighty sea, and the red men had to retire
to the bluffs, where the Great Spirit had his lodge, that

   
 
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
THE CALUMET ROCKS, 179

they might escape drowning by the waters. When they
were all there assembled who had not been drowned by the
waters, the Great Spirit looked angrily upon them, and
straightway the thunder commenced to roll, and the light-
ning to flash with terrific fury, and all of the red men fell
beneath the fiery bolts of the Great Spirit, until there was
only one Indian girl left of the whole race. The bluffs,
which before were of a grey colour, became of the red hue
which they now wear, from the mingled blood of many
nations, which the Great Spirit in his wrath had spilled,
and who thus addressed himself to the Indian maiden
whom he spared in his anger :—

*** My child, you see how foolish it is to disobey my
commands—sorrow and death will always be the retribu-
tion. Now, listen to what I have to say. Of all the race
of the red men, you are the only survivor; from you must
spring anew the people who are to populate this vast
country. When I shall depart for the skies, a great bird
shall light upon these bluffs, which will take you away, and
from you two the red men will again replenish the earth.
Tell your children of the wickedness of their fathers, and let
them come here, and gather the stone to make their pipes,
for the colour will bring to their mind my power, and the
blood that was spilled for not obeying my word. ‘The
rocks shall be called the Calumet Rocks; for I here make
a covenant of peace with you, and will smoke the pipe to
show that my anger is departed, and that my thoughts rise
upwards as the smoke.’

“The Great Spirit then flew to the heavens, and soon
the great bird which he had foretold, came to the bluffs,
and took the Indian girl to the mountains, and from them
have come all the present race of red men.

‘“A pipe is looked upon as worthless if the material is
not gathered from these bluffs, and consequently is in great
demand, and is never used, except on great occasions, by
the remote tribes of Indians. It is in imitation of the

 
 

  

120 LEGENDS.

Great Spirit, when he smoked the pipe of peace when his
anger had departed, that the Indians, when they wish to
show peaceful intentions, always smoke the pipe. Such is
the legend of the Calumet Rocks, and the origin of the
‘ pipe of peace,’ among the Indians.”

Chasseur and the priest were much entertained by this
instructive narrative, and the three paid a visit to the bluffs,
which, from knowing their singular history, they examined
with much curiosity and attention, The trapper pressed
the priest and his guondam friend to visit his lodge, which
was at no great distance, an invitation which they willingly
accepted, as they could there rest and recruit from the
fatigues of their journey,

 

 
   

   

HERNANDO DE SOTO & HIS FOSTER-BROTHER.

@ Legend of the Mississippi.
cana
Ir was the close of April, 1541, that a large body of
Spanish troops came in sight of an Indian village called
Chisca, situated on the bank of the Mississippi river. The
natives, numbering many hundreds, sallied out to meet
them, and, if possible, to impede the advances of the bold
strangers to their town. They attacked the Spaniards with
bows and arrows, and, seeing their arrows fall harmless
from the protecting coats of mail worn by the soldiers,
they rushed with the fury of despair into the serried ranks,
so as to do execution with their clubs in a close engage-
ment. The long lances of the Spaniards pierced them be-
fore they could use their weapons with effect, and they
were trampled to death beneath the feet of the cavalry, and
cut to pieces with the sword, so that in a few moments
two-thirds of their number lay dead upon their native soil ;
the rest, with a howl of disappointed vengeance, rushed
into the extensive forest, where they could not be pursued.

At the arrival of the soldiers in the village, a universal
massacre of the inhabitants took place, and all who could
not save themselves by flight fell, without regard to age
and sex, by the hands of the Spanish soldiery.

The village, consisting of rude wigwams, fashioned into
something resembling a habitation, by reeds, cemented by
clay, or covered with long dried grass, which rendered
them impervious to rain, was soon occupied exclusively by
the invaders, who busily searched every portion for food
and skins, of which they obtained but a meagre supply.
Yet the search for spoil, so natural to the soldier, in this
   

LEGENDS.

case was far from being a universal feeling, for something
more attractive than even the love of gain had presented
itself to their vision, and they stood in mute wonder—the
first white men looking on the mighty flood of the swift-
rolling Mississippi.

Apart from the rest, where the east bank of the river
was most elevated, was a troop of officers, clad in light
coats of mail, with swords of rich workmanship hanging
by their sides, and their persons decorated with the insignia
of honour and knighthood. They, too, were looking upon
the mighty river with feelings of awe and admiration, con-
jecturing for the moment what shores it swept in its course,
and what people inhabited its borders. At length the
leader, for he could readily be known by his commanding
mien, and by the distinguished symbols of knighthood
clustering thick upon his person, turned to one of his fol-
lowers who stood near him, dressed in worn and sable
vestments, and said :

«Father Pedro, go to the village which we have taken,
and see if you can discover amongst the spoils any trinkets
or valuables of gold: surely its existence is not a myth,
for the precious metal was plentiful in Peru, and I do not
see why it should not be found in this region, so much
richer in natural resources, and a portion of the same con-
tinent. Perhaps the Fates have determined that where
this mighty river rolls, our fortunes should date, and our
golden hopes be realized.”

“May God, in his great goodness, grant success to your
wishes, your Excellency!” replied the monk, looking with
melancholy sadness, yet with affection and deference, to his
chief, as he departed upon his mission.

«There goes,” said the leader, who was no other than
Hernando de Soto, the noblest born of all the Spanish
conquerors of the New World, ‘as noble and true a spirit
as ever dwelt in human form. He has encountered the
toil and hardships of this expedition, not from any ambi-

 

a

 

 

     
 

HERNANDO DE SOTO. 1838

tious spirit of adventure, or the golden hopes of fortune,
but for the love of me, his foster-brother, for whom he
possesses more than human affection. Though gentle as
the lamb in the first days of its innocent existence, yet in
battle he is ever by my side, warding danger from my per-
son, and ready at any moment to sacrifice his life in my
defence.”

‘It is true, your Excellency ; his is a heavenly nature,”
replied one of his officers, Luis de Moscoso, When the
battle is done, his Jabour is not done; he is ever found
amid the wounded and the dying, healing the anguish of
the one, and giving shrift and consolation to the other,
The soldiers will never yield in despair, no matter how
great their hardship, so long as the mild countenance of
Father Pedro meets their vision. But what have we
here ?”

Some soldiers were bringing a wounded Indian to where
De Soto and his officers were standing, and one of them,
raising respectfully his cap, rudely manufactured of half-
tanned deerskin, thus addressed the governor :

‘Your Excellency, we discovered this fellew in the
woods, crawling away as fast as he could, for he is too
much hurt to walk, and seeing, from ornaments in his nose
and ears, that he was of some condition, have brought him
to you, that he might give you some information which
might be important.”

Death, with its glazy film, had settled upon the eyes of
the Indian, and his breath was struggling with fitful throes
to free itself from its mortal tenement. De Soto looked
sternly on him, examined carefully his ornaments, and see-
ing no vestige of the precious metal which he was in search
of in their composition, turned away with a look of con-
tempt, exclaiming :

“Take the dying savage away! even could he speak, he
could not tell us what we would know.”

At this juncture, Father Pedro arrived; care, love, piety,

 
   

184 LEGENDS.

and sadness blending their respective lights and shades
upon his expressive countenance. De Soto, hastily giving
a few necessary orders to his officers, advanced to meet
him, and the two walked side by side, in earnest conversa-
tion, along the banks of the great river, which has linked
De Soto with immortality.

It is necessary now to give a brief retrospect of the
career of De Soto previous to his appearance upon the
banks of the Mississippi.

Hernando de Soto was descended from a noble family of
Spain, and had enjoyed all the advantages of early educa-
tion, incident to his birth, and the illustrious position of his
parents. Nature had been to him most lavish in her gifts;
he was moulded in a form in which herculean strength was
blended with the graceful exterior of a Phoebus ; his fea-
tures were frank, winning, and classic in their expression,
and the power of his conversation so rare and captivating,
that it seemed as if the Attic fable of yore had a modern
significance, and that “the bees had swarmed upon his
lips.” An adventurous disposition had incited him to join
the expedition under Pizarro against Peru, and that same
cruel policy which actuated that cruel leader was carried out
by De Soto, in his eventful career whilst Governor of
Florida. His services in Peru were abundantly rewarded,
and he returned home with almost fabulous wealth, and a
reputation second only to Cortez and Pizarro. From his
superabundant means, he lived in a state for some years of
regal splendour and eastern luxury, but his restless spirit
fretted even in thes*Eden he had created around him, and
sighed for the excitement of adventure and the din of
battle.

In the wintry hour of his discontent, Alvar Nunez, a fol-
lower of Pamphilo de Narvaez, who had long been thought
as dead, landed in Spain, and gave such glowing accounts
of Florida and the neighbouring regions, that the whole
country was in a ferment, and many a heart panted to im-

   

 
 

 

HERNANDO DE SOTO. 185

migrate to a land where the fruits were perennial, and
where it was thought flowed the ‘fabled fountains of
youth.” Three expeditions to that desired country had
already been tried. One undertaken in 1512 by Ponce de
Leon, formerly a companion of Columbus; another in 1520
by Vasquez de Ayllon; and another in 1528 by Pamphilo
de Narvaez. All of these had signally failed, and the bones
of most of the leaders and their followers bleached upon the
soil they had come to conquer.

The unfortunate issue of the former expeditions did not
operate as a check upon the aspiring mind of De Soto; but
the reports of the danger and the trials which were breathed
through the land by the few survivors, served as breezes to
fan the sails of ambition, and made him the more anxious
to spring, as an actor, upon the arena which had been ‘the
scene of the discomfiture and death of the hardy chivalry
of the kingdom. He sought an audience of the Emperor,
and, after hearing his proposition, that he would con-
quer the country known as Florida at his own expense,
Charles V. conferred upon him the title Gf Governor of
Cuba and Florida.

The enthusiasm reached a pitch never before felt, directly
it was announced that De Soto, one of the successful con-
querors of Peru, was at the head of the expedition for
America. Nobles came forward with their splendid re-
tinues, young cavaliers thirsty for glory, the soldier of
fortune, the shaven priest, and even Alvar Nunez, whose
suffering and adventures for nearly ten years wore more the
extravagant hue of romance than the tempered expressions
of reality, were anxious to take part in the enterprise.

On the 6th of April, 1538, De Soto sailed from Spain with
an armament of ten vessels and a splendidly equipped army
of nine hundred chosen men, amidst the roar of cannon and
the inspiring strains of martial music, After an auspicious
voyage he landed at the Isle of Cuba, where he remained
for several months receiving numbers of recruits and an

 
 

  

LEGENDS.

accession of military supplies, and then departed under the
fairest auspices, on the 12th day of May, 1539, and, in two
weeks, landed in a bay called Espiritu Santo, now known as
Tampa Bay, on the coast of Florida.

The predecessors of De Soto by their cruel conduct to-

yards the Indians, had insured him anything but a joyful
reception. A few nights after his arrival, the camp was
attacked bya large body of natives and many of the soldiers
killed, despite the protecting armour they wore. From the
very first, a warfare commenced on both sides, which for
atrocity and vindictive retaliation is almost unparalleled in
historic records. The Spaniards went to conquer, and
humanity had never a share in their policy. The savages
were slaughtered without mercy ; taken captive and put to
the torture to make them reveal the localities where mines
of gold lay hidden in the earth, or where the nation had
concealed their treasure; they were hunted and torn to
pieces by bloodhounds, and, when taken prisoners, if not put
direct to the torture, were manacled and fettered, and in
that condition often lay exposed to the burning rays of a
tropical sun, until death put an end to their torments,

The natives on their part were not not much behind their
invaders in their inhuman warfare: whenever they killed,
they tore, if possible, the crown portion of the head, with
the skin attached, as a trophy of victory; and, if fortunate
enough to take a prisoner, death, in slow and lingering
torments, awaited him, in the gauntlet race, and at the
stake.

De Soto quickly overran Florida and Georgia, defeating,
at all times, the numerous host of natives, who disputed
every inch of his progress, and arrived in the dominions of
Tuscaloosa, who was, at that time, the most powerful In-
dian chief in the Southern section of the United States.
The great chief, whose dominions had never before been
visited by the Spaniards, had no arrears of cruelty to repay,
and received De Soto with much hospitality ; inviting him

 

 

  
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 187

to an entertainment, sending his son as the messenger.
But conquest was the object of De Soto, and the divinity
to whom he sacrificed all moral and religious attributes.
Knowing that the possession of Tuscaloosa’s person would
be a guarantee against any attack of his subjects, under the
guise of friendship he decked him with a robe splendidly
ornamented with gold and significant designs, and invited
him to accompany the army a short distance in a south-
west direction, kindly furnishing him with a horse for the
occasion.

The savage king consented, but not until some days had
elapsed, when he saw himself surrounded by a strong guard,
and almost cut off from any communication with his peo-
ple, did he suspect the treachery which had been practised
upon him. When he became conscious of being a prisoner,
he concealed the feelings that were seething in his heart,
until a fitting opportunity.

This celebrated chieftian was more than eight feet high,
and splendidly proportioned. Though a savage, he was an
adept in diplomacy; versed in the winding mazes of the
human heart; and had a sagacity that looked ‘ quite
through the deeds of men.” When they were a few days
march from Mauvilla, situated on the Alabama river, and
from which the modern name of Mobile is derived, he des-
patched some of his attendants in advance, under the pre-
text of giving instructions to his people, that they might
receive them ina becoming state, but, in reality, to com-
mand them to assemble in their might, and rally to his
rescue,

When de Soto arrived at Mauvilla, he was met by a large
body of warriors, with their features painted in the most
grotesque manner, and accompanied by a number of females,
singing and dancing, and then Tuscaloosa received permis-
sion to retire that he might confer with his people con-
cerning some necessary arrangements. He never returned ; _
but, in a short time, at a signal, swarms of armed warriors

 
   

188 LEGENDS,

rushed from every house, and, with hideous yells, attacked
the Spaniards with great fury. The work of death com-
menced in earnest; a dreadful carnage ensued, and, after
the battle had raged for more than five hours, with insatiate
ferocity, the Indians retired, leaving several thousands of
their bodies blocking up the streets or strewed upon the
plain. The Spaniards, too, suffered severely. Despite
their protecting mail, eighty of their number were slain, and
nearly every one wounded.

The battle of Mauvilla was one of the bloodiest that was
fought by the discoverers of the New World. Several
times during the engagement it seemed impossible for the
Spaniards to resist the flood of warriors which poured upon
them from every direction; but De Soto, as if he wielded
destiny, and had the arms of Briareus in the conflict, with
his sabre streaming with the blood of slaughtered foes,
would force the tide backwards, and, give breathing time
to his companions to resist a fresh onset from the enemy.
But the victory gained was worthless. During the fight
the wigwams, which were composed of most combustible
materials, were set on fire, and the whole town was a pile
of ashes.

After resting his army some days, that it might recruit
its strength, De Soto crossed to the Mississippi country,
and, having lost many of his horses, he took captive the
Indians, and forced them to carry a large portion of the
baggage of the army. In December, 1540, the Spaniards
arrived at the village of Chickasaw, probably situated in
the valley of the Yallabusha, and formed their winter-quar-
ters. All was quiet, till one night in February, 1541, the
Indians, in tremendous force, with terrific yells, made an
attack on the encampment. The Spaniards were thrown
into confusion, but, directly the dawn appeared, and they

ould see how to direct their blows, the savages were hewn
down on all sides, though they fought with the desperation
of demons. The slaughter was nearly equal to that at

 
  

 
HERNANDO DY SOTO. 189

Mauvilla, twenty-five hundred of the savages being slain,
and more than forty of the Spaniards.

Some weeks after the battle of Chickasaw, De Soto
broke up his winter-quarters, and proceeded in a westward
direction; annoyed by the Indians, who kept up an inces-
sant skirmish, until he arrived at a village called Alabamo,
where the savages gave battle. After a desperate resist-
ance the town was taken, and the inhabitants put to the
sword. The Spaniards lost in the engagement fifteen men
and some horses; thus they were weakened at each battle,
and a dreadful fever incident to the climate was raging
through their ranks with fatal effects.

The prospects of De Soto were gloomy; he had come in
search of gold that would make him equal in wealth to an
Eastern despot, and had found poverty, suffering, disease,
and the most determined resistance; the full golden hopes,
day by day, waned and darkened, and a cloud rested upon
his soul. His brow became sterner, his manner more
imperious ; for he was one of those natures whom misfor-
tune could not humiliate, but, as the storm thickened
around him, darker, sterner, and more determined grew his
spirit in its resistance. His policy towards the savages had
been modelled by that of Pizarro, his former commander,
and was cruel and sanguinary from the first ; but, when he
saw them still unsubmissive, though defeated in every
engagement, he waged against them a war of extermina-
tion, and, if the whole race was not destroyed, it was because
he lacked the power to put in execution his wishes.

After the battle of Alabamo, the Spaniards moved west-
ward, and in a few days came in sight of a village called
Chisca, where they had a battle with the natives, and first
saw the Mississippi, which they named the Rio Grande,
from its immense size.

It was on the banks of the river, walking with his foster-
brother, Father Pedro, that we left De Soto in the opening
page of this narrative. After walking some distance in

.

 
 

  

190 LEGENDS.

silence, De Soto said to the priest, ‘“‘ My friend, did you see
any evidence of what we are in search of ?”’

““No, senor,’’ replied the priest, “I have seen nothing
but poverty among the tribes of this country, and I fear me
much that your search will be vain, and all your trials, dan-
gers, and fatigues be unrewarded. Would you take my
advice, you would construct some boats, and descend the
large river which we have here discovered, that must
necessarily have an inlet into the ocean, and then forsaking
this barbarous land for ever, steer for our beloved Spain,
where no savages lie in wait to murder, and no deadly mes-
meria poisons the atmosphere.”

“‘ Never,” replied De Soto, the hot blood of passion and
shame rushing to his face, and mantling his sunburnt
features, ‘‘ shall I give over my purpose, and abandon as
visionary the rich hopes I had garnered in my heart; that
promised me in their conception laurels to my brow, and
untold wealth which might link me in splendour with
royalty? No! before I will be defeated in my objects—
before one tittle of my expectations be abated, I will over-
run this wide continent, with its swamps and forests, from
end to end; and my track shall be marked by the lifeblood
of whole hordes of these brutal savages, who durst oppose
me. Then,” and his stern, lofty brow grew gloomier as he
spoke, ‘‘ if Fate denies me the success I sti!l look for, when
my bright hopes are all blighted, my chafed spirit will wing
its flight from this barbarous soil, and in it my body shall
claim its sepulchre.”

‘Hernando, my friend—my brother,” replied the priest,
laying his emaciated hand affectionately upon his arm,
«« Why live for earth, and earthly grandeur, when heaven is
so near, with its eternal sunshine, its glory, and the fruition
of all that is blessed. Look how precarious is the tenure of
happiness when it draws its sustenance from worldly suc-
cess, Take yourself for an example. You have made from
your youth Ambition your Divinity—that darling idol which

 

  
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 191

was the cause why the angels fell. You sought, while yet a
boy, distinction in the wars against the Moors, and you ob-
tained it. All Spain was loud in the praises of the young hero,
who by his feats rivalled the exploits of her most illustrious
chivalry. You then, under the renowned captain, Pizarro,
made the conquest of Peru, and the countless wealth of the
Incas filled to overflowing your coffers. You returned to
Spain, with all your honours full blown; the people hailing
you as a conqueror; your monarch caressing and ennobling
you ; and gold sufficient for all voyal gratification. In this
flood of prosperity, were you satisfied? No; for the soul
is an emanation of the Godhead, and nothing human can
satisfy it. With regal splendour around you, and basking
in the sunshine of royal favour, you forsook all, to come to
barbarous shores where you thought to conquer a princi-
pality, and gather spoils sufficient to enrich a kingdom.
You have won every battle, but still every inch of ground
is disputed by myriads of foes, who, despite their immense
slaughter, appear to be numberless. Our numbers are fear-
fully diminishing; there is no vestige of gold in the exten-
sive region we have explored; and the hearts of the soldiers
are sickening at the gloomy prospect. You have toiled
enough for honour and for fame. Return now to our
country, and then giving your soul to the contemplation
and study of its destiny, you will find its turbid agita-
tions will subside, and the current of happiness flow pure
and undisturbed. God grant you may take my advice!”
“Stop, Pedro,” replied De Soto, his dark eyes flashing
with displeasure, “this everlasting homily! My destiny is
onward, Not all your precepts and directions, drawn from
the pure source of Holy Writ—not even the flood of this
mighty river, can stop my predestined course. I feel the
force of your reasoning, but must follow the divine influence
which urges me. I will struggle still to achieve my pur-
pose, and wrest from Fortune the success which she once
delighted to give me. No danger can terrify me, no suffer-

 
   

  

192 LEGENDS.

ing can make me despair. The only wound which rankles
in my heart comes from the shaft of affection; it is seeing
thee, my foster-brother, witnessing scenes foreign to thy
gentle nature—at war with all thy instincts, and too rough
in its trials for thy slender frame to encounter, Your devoted
Jove has linked you with a stormy destiny, and you eat of
bitter fruit which is not of thy sowing.”

‘* My mission must be accomplished,” the priest replied,
vith a look of resignation and love towards his commander.
‘| have followed you in the war against the Moors, Ihave
been your companion in the trying scenes of Peru, and in
the remote wilds of this country I am by your side, trying
at all times to win you from the wiles of that sorceress,
Ambition, who has lured you into sinful excesses and made
you neglect the ways and teaching of eternal Truth. Still,
I will follow you, for it is the will of heaven. When mis-
fortune and disease shall have crushed your iron frame, my
prophetic soul tells me that I shall be by your side, to
shrive you, my brother, at your dying hour, and show to
your restless spirit its passage to the upper spheres.” The
eyes of the priest filled with tears as he spoke, and De Soto,
affectionately grasping his hand, thus replied :—

‘“Heaven cannot avert its grace from me while you,
Pedro, are my friend; but, let us now return to where our
officers are still looking with wonder and surprise upon this
immense river which rolls its great flood before us, Soon
it will bear upon its bosom some of the chivalry of Spain,
and probably in its muddy depths some of us may find our
final resting-place.”

The two friends then walked forward in silence to where
a group of officers were standing upon the banks of the
river,

It has been a matter of dispute among historians, as to
the exact spot where De Soto first saw the Mississippi
river, According to the best account, it was a little dis-
tance below where Memphis now stands, and that he then

 
HERNANDO DE SOLO. 193

advanced up the river a few miles, and, after some delay in
preparing boats, attempted to cross. The passage was
opposed by swarms of the natives, who had collected on the
opposite banks, and hundreds of little canoes floated in the
river,

De Soto gave the word to advance, and, with the warlike
shout of Spain, ‘‘ St. Jago to the rescue!” the soldiers put
forward in their boats, and, though thousands of arrows
darkened the air, and fell upon them from every direction,
they pursued their course until very near the shore, when
the odds against them became so fearful that they were
compelled to return. It was more than mortal courage
could accomplish, for that little army, however superior
their discipline and their arms, to force a passage through
the hosts of savages who swarmed from all points to oppose
them,

De Soto determined to effect by diplomacy what he could
not accomplish by force. He took a little boat, and, accom-
panied alone by Father Pedro and two of his officers, he
went nearly midway the stream, with a white flag waving
from the prow of the boat. The s savages, after a little time,
appeared to understand that this was a signal for parley,
sent off a canoe in which was a chief and two Indians, who
advanced to within a short distance to where the boat of the
Europeans was floating upon the current, and then stopped
plying their paddles, apparently undetermined whether to
proceed farther towards their enemies.

De Soto, seeing them stop, immediately ordered his boat to
proceed, and soon arrived alongside of that of the savages.
He immediately stepped into their boat, and, unbinding a
rich belt from his waist, he soon had it encircling the form
of the delighted savage. He made signs to proceed to the
shore, where he would give them more presents, and the
Indians with all of their fears merged in the anticipated
presents, struck vigorously for the east side of the Missis-
sippi.

 
   

  

194 LEGENDS.

De Soto showed them his followers clothed in coats of
mail, which he made them believe was a portion of their
bodies ; displayed to their wondering vision the sharp and
glittering sabres and all the paraphernalia of European
warfare. He then feasted the savages, and explained by an
interpreter his wishes. He declared he was no enemy, and
only wanted the right of passage through their nation, on
his way to Mexico to join his people who inhabited that
country. That his march would be quiet and peaceable,
and asked of him, the chief, to persuade the Indians to give
him uninterrupted passage across the river, as he did not
wish to spill more blood until he had explained his inten-
tions. He then fitted on the person of the savage a soldier’s
coat, and gave him a pocket looking-glass, and, at the sight
of himself in the reflecting light, the gravity of the chief
was wholly overthrown, and he laughed, capered, and danced,
as if he had lost his senses, The other Indians, received
some minor presents, and then the three were dismissed,
delighted with their visit.

De Soto awaited until next morning to see what effect
his gifts would produce, and early on that day a canoe was
seen approaching, which contained the chief of the pre-
ceding day, accompanied by two others, whose equipments
showed them to be of distinction, They told the Spaniards,
through their interpreter, that they would be unmolested
in their passage, but they must not stop in the country.

At this intelligence, the Spaniards immediately resumed
their boats, and cautiously submitted themselves and their
all to the stream. Before starting, De Soto had again
given presents to the visiting chiefs, and they, taking the
lead in their little canoe, the whole army of the Spaniards
followed and were soon landed on the opposite shore amid
thousands of Indians completetely armed after their fashion,
and ready at a moment’s warning to make a formidable
attack which, at this juncture, while they were on the water,
had probably destroyed the Spaniards.

 
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 195

De Soto anxiously awaited the moment when his troops
were landed; and then he felt as if a mountain-weight had
been removed: for he was now on land, where his cavalry
might act, in case of conflict, which, in every engagement,
always struck terror into the hearts of the Indians.

On landing, the mien of De Soto assumed its natural
characteristics: the expression of conscious power rested
upon his brow; his lip resumed its haughty curl; and his
eyes flashed like fiery meteors. Several of the chiefs came
around him, evidently expecting presents; but De Soto
ordered their departure, for he now felt the lion in his soul;
his army was in battle array before him; and the hour of
propitiation had passed. He was even meditating an attack
upon the natives, for his proud spirit was galled and chafed
at being compelled by flattery and presents to propitiate
beings he regarded as little better than brutes, to obtain a
passage across the Mississippi; but Father Pedro begged
him not to provoke hostilities nor destroy the favourable
impression they had made upon the minds of the Indians, ;
As he listened to the mild voice of the priest, the turbulent
soul of De Soto gradually calmed its fury, and his design
was abandoned. After some necessary preparation, the
word “march!” was given, and the array which once num-
bered more than a thousand well-equipped soldiers, with
hearts beating in dauntless bosoms—with golden hopes
woven so beautifully in their future existence—but now
dwindled into less than half their original number, com-
menced their march through the unbroken forest of Arkansas.

On the West side of the Mississippi, the Indians, thus
far, appeared more hospitable and friendly; and, after ffve
days’ march, they discovered a large village, situated on the
banks of a river, which we suppose must have been the
White River, nearly a hundred miles above its junction with
the Mississippi. The Indians came forth in crowds to meet
them, but showed no hostility ; and the Spaniards obtained
an ample supply of provisions, and also a place where they

 
   

  

196 LEGENDS.

could recruit from their fatigue without being continually
harassed by watchful enemies.

It was the close of May, and the fields were parched by
along drought; and the medicine men of the Indians had
exhausted all their necromancy, and in vain, to cause the
rain to fall upon the earth, In this dilemma, they sent to
De Soto, asking him to pray to his Great Spirit that he
would cause the rain to descend upon their parched fields,
that they might not starve the ensuing winter.

De Soto was reclining alone in his tent, in moody con-
templation of his position, when the deputation came; and
soon, many of his officers came around him. When he
perfectly understood the purport of the mission, his dark
fiery eyes flashed with a searching glance upon the assem-
bly, and then he ordered a messenger to seek Father Pedro,
and tell him to repair to his tent.

“Your servant is here, your Excellency,” replied the
priest, entering the tent at the moment, with his missal in
his hand.

“You are welcome, holy father,” said De Soto—for, in
the presence of others, he always addressed his friend
with the reverential title which respect for his order
demanded ; and then De Soto informed him of the nature
of the embassy, and told him, as he wished to impress the
Indians with a supernatural idea of his power, he would like
the ceremonies and rituals of the church to be used ina
grand procession, as if in accedence to their request.

An expression of mental suffering rested upon the coun-
tenance of the priest, as he replied, ‘‘A servant of God
never chants the anthem in mockery, nor presses the cross
to his lips unless his soul is pleading for the sins of his
body, through the merits of Him who suffered for man’s
redemption.”

With all his faults—his ambition, his selfishness, his
cruelty, and utter disregard of human feelings and human
life, when conflicting with his inclinations—De Soto had

,

 
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 197

one bright trait that blended with the stern elements
which made up his character, and lent to it a gleam of
gentleness and redeeming light. He loved his foster-
brother with the warm glow of devoted affection, and would.
not wilfully do aught that would inflict a pang upon a spirit
so pure and sacrificing as that of the emaciated priest, who
followed his desperate fortunes. Seeing that he had
wounded the feelings of the holy man, he changed his tac-
tics, and thus addressed him :

“You misunderstood me, holy father,” said he; ‘I wish,
in truth, that we should all meet together, and for a holy
purpose ; that we would use the mystic rites known to our
church—and with true hearts, on bended knees, pray to the
Giver of all good, and the patron saint of Spain, to advance
our cause, which is the cause of our country and our
church; and likewise to send rain upon the parched fields
in this country, that our army, already so reduced, may not
die from famine.”

“Forgive me, your Excellency, replied the priest, “ for
misunderstanding your import. Yes, let us render a tribute
to the Highest in an imposing and appropriate manner ;
and if in good faith, and worthy purposes, our prayers be
offered, they will be heard with welcome and with favour.”

A wooden crucifix was then attached to an immense
cotton-tree pole, sixty feet in height, before which all the
soldiers stood uncovered; whilst the priest, who accompa-
nied the expedition, headed by Father Pedro, with torches
of the resinous pine-wood burning in the place of candles,
chaunted the hymns of the church; and then the whole
army, with bended knees, looking upon the cross—the
symbol of a Saviour’s suffering—listened in that attitude to
an impressive prayer which Father Pedro breathed to our
Mediator. ‘Then came the benediction, which closed the
ceremony.

The rites had scarcely been concluded when a light
breeze commenced to move the still foliage of the forest,

 
 

  

198 LEGENDS.

and distant mutterings proclaimed electrical disturbance in
the atmosphere. ‘Soon a dark cloud spanned the Western
regions of space, and from the dark volume the lurid light-
ning commenced to flash, and the thunder to peal; and
then, as if in answer to the prayers of the Spaniards, the
rain commenced to fall in torrents.

While the Spaniards remained in the neighbourhood; they

were regarded by the Indians with fear and reverence.

Cuaprer II,

“Llamonte alfin, como suele,
Ala perdiz, la cautela,
Del cacadore enganoso.
Las redes entre Ja yerua.
Lorre pr VGA,
He lured me as the fowler lures the bird,
And snares in meshes hid beneath the grass,
* | * 1 * * * *
“Ven, muerte, tan escondida,
Que no te sienta venir,
Porque el placer del morir,
Nome buelva adar la vida.”
“Come, O Death! but so slyly that there will be no knowledge of
thy approach, lest that the pleasure of dying may bring me back to life

again,”

A. few days after the events we have last recorded, De
Soto, before the sun had looked upon the world, all alone,
took a small_path which led into the dark depths of the
immense forest. For nearly a mile he pursued his course,
and it was evident that he was seeking a secluded spot, to

‘indulge his feelings, for on his stern brow there was a
melancholy sadness, which he cared not should be seen by
his companions. Thicker and thicker grew the trees as he

advanced, and at length coming to an immense cotton-tree,

 

  
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 199

which grew beside the path, he sat by the side of its
gigantic trunk and took several letters from his pocket.
They were from his wife, Donna Isabella, to whom he was
betrothed at the age of nineteen, but their union being
opposed by her father, she had remained true to her absent
lover through the sixteen years he remained in America, as
an officer under her father, who plotted his death, and
afterwards under Pizarro, the conqueror of Peru.

When he sailed for Florida, from Havana, De Soto had
left his wife in the latter place, though she had earnestly
entreated to accompany him. He had received but two
letters from her, when in Florida, and he had sought this
retired spot, where he might, unobserved, read over again
the lines traced by her hand, and drink in the confessions
of as true a love as ever palpitated in the heart of a woman.

In these letters she had earnestly entreated him to aban-
don his enterprise, and return to the enjoyments of domestic
life, in the sweets of which he had passed so little of his’
existence. She also adverted to that cruelty, which had
become public history, which the conquerors of America
had practised upon the natives, and conjured him not to let
such unworthy precedents guide him in his conquest.

We will leave De Soto for the present, and return to
Father Pedro, who, finding that his friend had gone into the
forest, sought Luis de Moscoso, a valiant Spaniard, and
probably the most humane of all De Soto’s officers. He
found the cavalier engaged in the repairing of an old
musical instrument, and the worthy father smiled as he
said :

« My son, your lack of tools in this region, I fear me,
will ever prevent you from so completing your work that it
will be little short of a miracle if we shall hear music dis-
coursed from so dilapidated a source. But can you forego
your occupation a little time, as I wish to seek De Soto,
who, I understand, has taken yon little path which leads
into the forest ? I wish to speak to him on a subject that I

 
   

  

200 LEGENDS.

have near to my heart, and I wish you to be my ally in this
affair, for he looks upon you with partial eyes.”

The cavalier consented, and, on their walk through the
wood, Father Pedro communicated to Moscoso his intention
of asking De Soto to liberate all his Indian captives, as
they had commenced to die very rapidly; a dreadful dis-
order having commenced to rage amongst them, and with
the most fatal effect. The priest likewise told Moscoso of
his fruitless attempt to persuade De Soto to cease farther
search of gold and conquest, and return to Havana.

“If you had spoken, holy father,” replied the knight,
‘*in accents of an angel, all had been in vain. It is his
destiny. While life lasts he will cling to his purpose, nor
can all the persuasions of his friends, nor of you, my father,
whom he loves with more than human affection, nor the
entreaties of his noble wife, Donna Isabella, whom he
idolizes, can snatch him from the enchanted circle of ambi-
tion, The golden description given by that perjured soul,
Alnar Nunez Cabesca do Vasca, are yet fresh in his me-
mory, and he still clings to the hope that at last his splen-
did hopes will be realized. The prophecy of Micer Codro
will be fulfilled.”

** What prophecy was that?” demanded the priest.

‘« Listen, my father,” replied Moscoso, looking furtively
around him. ‘‘ While we were in the Isthmus, under De
Avilla, the father of Donna Isabella, De Soto saved the
life of a learned philosopher, who afterwards became his
friend.”

“Tt was an Italian, called Codro, was it not?” said the
priest.

“The same,” replied the cavalier. ‘‘ He was truly a
learned man, for he knew in which way the stars affected
our existence. One day, his Excellency and I, more from
novelty than faith in his pretensions, persuaded him to
draw our horoscopes. He consented, and for half-an-hour,
after getting the date of our birth, he traced mystic circles

 
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 201

upon the sand, and muttered strangely to himself while en-
gaged in his deep calculation. At first, we were disposed
to look with mockery upon the affair, but a solemnity gra-
dually stole over us, as we watched the motions of the
astrologer ; and it was almost with a start of fear that I
heard him pronounce my name, calling me to his side to
pronounce my destiny.”

** What did he tell you?”’ asked the priest.

‘* He told facts, for they have come to pass; and, during
each year of my life since that time, some event occurs
which shows plainly to my mind that the man could, in-
deed, look plainly upon the scroll of fate. He foretold me
my adventures in Peru, my return to Spain, my love for
Leonora, and her untimely death before her bridal hour ;
then my visit to a distant country, where I could see my
comrades dying around me, and where I could see a mighty
river rolling a flood of muddy water. <A few days ago, we
same to the great river which he predicted, and which we
have called the Rio Grande. There is but one more of the
prophetic events to be accomplished in this country.”

«And what is that?’’ said the priest, with an interest
he could not control.

“« He told me,’’ replied the knight, ‘“‘ that on the banks
of that river I should stand by the dying bed of a com-
panion in arms, and that, after a little period, the evil in-
fluence of the malicious stars that looked upon my birth
would pass away, and that I should return to my country,
where I would spend the evening of my days in quiet and
tranquillity.”

« And of his Excellency—of De Soto—what did he say
of him?”’ said Father Pedro, with a nervousness and eager-
ness totally at variance with his usual quiet and composed
demeanour.

‘He told his Excellency,” replied Moscoso, ‘that his
life would be a turbulent one. He told him, likewise, of
his future success as a general, of the death of De Aville,

 
   

  

202 LEGENDS.

and his marriage with Isabella. All these things have come
to pass.”

“True,” replied Father Pedro, ‘‘ what more did he say?”

“He said,” continued Moscoso, “that the body of his
Excellency should fester in a foreign soil; that a mighty
river should murmur his requiem, and waft his name to the
broad ocean of eternity.”’

“What a gloom steals over me,” said the priest, “when
I listen to what must be the ravings of an enthusiast, or
the wilful utterings of a wild impostor; yet Micer Codro
was a learned man, and neither visionary nor deceitful,”

“Good day, senor, and holy father,” said De Soto, who
was lying on one side of the trunk of the large tree which
the two comers were passing; ‘‘ your conversation must
have been engrossing, indeed, when you were passing within
a few feet without seeing me. But,amI right? I thought
I heard you speak of Micer Codro.”

“You are correct, your Excellency,” replied Moscoso ;
‘T was telling the holy father of the horoscope he drew for
us nearly twenty years ago.” i

‘*T remember the time well,” said De Soto, ‘‘ and how
strangely true, in both of us, have many of his predictions
been verified. Once I looked upon them as the phantasma
of a diseased brain ; but they have gradually made a part
of the record of my life, and now I am forced to believe
that he had the gift of revelation.”

“You never informed me of his prophecies, though
made so long ago”’ said the priest to De Soto, in a tone of
injured confidence.

“I did not, my friend,” replied De Soto, ‘for well I
knew that you would hold them in derision, and laugh at
my weakness in entertaining them a moment; but tell me,
what has brought you in the depths of this interminable
forest ?””

Father Pedro then introdueed the purpose of his visit,
and gave an affecting detail of the miserable condition of

>

 
  

 

HERNANDO DE SOTO.

the Indian captives, at the same time making a touching
appeal to his humanity and nobleness, and concluded by
asking their liberation. But De Soto sternly refused to ac-
cede to sucha proposal. If there had ever been any avenue
of pity to his iron heart, it had long been closed by the
continued desire of inflicting punishment upon the brutal
savages, who had so obstinately opposed his progress, and
had endeavoured to defend from invasion their own country.
He had never viewed them as belonging to the human
scale, but merely as annoyances or plagues on the face of
creation, which he had a right to destroy in any manner
the most effective; and he did destroy them. In open
combat and by secret treachery, in the battle-field, by their
hearth-stone, at the foot of their altars, by the fire at the
stake, and the lingering death of prolonged captivity, he
swept them in myriads from existence,

Of all the Spanish conquerors of America to De Soto,
the historian has been most partial. When it was impera-
tive to notice isolated instances of cruelty and avarice in
his career, the pen has traced whole paragraphs in extenu-
ation, and to the early teachings of Pizarro is attributed
the stern and bloody policy he pursued towards the natives.
It is contended that his natural instincts were of a gentle
and noble tendency, but had become changed and totally
corrupted by the foul and bloodthirsty spirits with which
he was: first associated. It is not our province to enter
into a minute detail of the good and bad qualities which
blended together in his remarkable character ; but only to
exhibit a hasty glance of the main lineaments of a man to
whom history accords the first discovery of the great river
which rolls from north to south through the whole extent
of our country.

Gold was the idol of his heart, the curse of his soul, the
incentive to his herculean efforts, and the demon to which
he did not hesitate to sacrifice every ethical and religious
principle, When the monarch of Peru was deceived and

 

  
  

204 LEGENDS.

taken prisoner, De Soto is described, by some, as disputing
with Pizzaro condemning his inhuman treatment of
Atahuallapa, and his broken faith with the captive Inca.
But, when De Soto is commander-in-chief of his own expe- _
dition, we see him pursuing the same dishonest policy in his
march from Florida to Arkansas, making treaties which he
violated, by stratagem gaining possession of the persons of
the chiefs, and murdering the inhabitants without mercy.
He was of the same school of Pizarro and Cortez; possess-
ing the same daring valour, the contempt of danger, their
tenacity of purpose, ‘as well as their cruelty and avarice.

Whatever we may say of the captors of Montezuma and
Atahuallapa, we must say of De Soto. When he entered
the country of Tuscaloosa, the most powerful cacique of the
Southern country, he was invited by the gallant chieftian to
rest in his dominions and to partake of his hospitality.
While at the festive board, where it is supposed soul min-
gles with soul in the sacred enjoyment of friendship, the
warrior is surrounded by a band of Europeans, and kept
under the control of his faithless guests, until he effects his
delivery by outwitting his captors.

This perfidious act on the part of De Soto caused the
bloody battle of Mauvilla, and the death of the gallant
chieftain, after prodigies of valour, whose hospitality had
been so cowardly violated.

We left De Soto at Casquin, in Arkansaw, some days’
march west of the Mississippi. . The rain which had oppor-
tunely fallen, while the Spaniards were invoking the Deity
to bless the parching earth with showers, had favourably
impressed the Indians of that region with an exalted idea of
the superiority and power of their God. They readily
shared with the Spaniards their stock of provisions, and
gave them freely of their skins. De Soto, after his fol-
lowers had been somewhat recruited by rest, recommenced
his march westward, hoping to come at last upon the long-
expected region of gold, He had been told at Casquin, by

   

 

 

 
    

 

 

 

 

HERNANDO DE SOTO. 205

the Indians, that there was a glittering metal some days’
march to the westward. He found the shining ore—it was
copper.

De Soto now pursued his course toward an Indian town
called Tulla, where the natives were of gigantic stature, and
fought with heavy long clubs, with the desperation of
demons. Such was their tremendous strength, that one of
these warriors, thus armed, was a match for a Spanish sol-
dier, though mounted on a horse, armed with a sword and
cased in armour. In the many conflicts many Spaniards
were slain, and De Soto soon left that warlike tribe; and,
after long marches through an unbroken wilderness, he
arrived on the banks of the Arkansaw river, where he fixed
his winter-quarters.

After losing many of his soldiers, and almost the last
remnant of his horses, De Soto, in April, 1542, bent his
march towards the Mississippi, where he determined to
build two vessels, and send to Cuba for assistance. In his
march to the ‘‘ great river,” he took captive as many
Indians as lay in his power, making them convey his bag-
gage, carry the sick, and do other drudgery which the
horses were accustomed to perform.

On their march to the Mississippi, the Spaniards passed
the Hot Springs of Arkansaw; and, when they saw the
foaming fountains, they thought they had discovered the
long-searched-for ‘‘ Fountains of Youth,” which Fame had
reported existed somewhere in the country; but, ten of
them dying from excessive drinking, they were soon con-
vinced of their error.

On the last day of May, 1542, De Soto reached the banks
of the Mississippi; and immediately commenced building
the two vessels he contemplated. These were about half
finished, when De Soto, whose iron constitution had hereto-
fore resisted successfully fatigue, exposure, and mental dis-
quietude, yielded to a violent attack of one of the ende-

  
   

206 LEGENDS.

mics of the sickly climate; and, after slight premonitions
of a few days, he was prostrated upon his last bed of
sickness.

Intngss AND Deatu or Der Soro.

The malady from which De Soto suffered increased in
violence each successive day, until it became evident to
Father Pedro that no human power could save from death
his illustrious victim. The invalid had ordered his tent to
be pitched on a slight elevation, where he could have a plain
view of the river; and, during the few moments when he
was free from pain, he would gaze wistfully upon the flood
of water rushing to its ocean-bed.

It was during one of these interims of quiet that his
foster-brother took affectionately one of his hands, dry
and burning with fever, and told him of his approaching
dissolution.

‘«] feel it,” said De Soto: ‘the current of my life is
nearly at its last ebb. I die in a foreign soil: and the pro-
phecy of Micer Codro will be fulfilled.”

At that moment, his favourite officer, Luis de Moscoso,
entered; and De Soto, holding out his hand, exclaimed :
‘Moscoso, the Italian astrologer predicted that, among
the events of your life, you would, in a distant country,
stand by the dying bed of a brother soldier, where would
roll a mighty river—lo! see his prediction verified. I soon
shall leave you.”

Moscoso gazed intently upon the features of his com-
mander for a moment; and then, grasping the hand he had
relinquished, replied, with his countenance lighted with
excitement; ‘The astrologer said more, your Excellency :
he said that “the mighty river would waft your name
to the broad ocean of Kternity—~your fame is endure

 
  
HERNANDO DE SOTO. 207

ing as this flood of water; and Death has no power
over it.”

‘« That is, indeed, a balm for my wounded spirit, with all
of its aspirations blighted,” said the warrior. ‘‘ And now,
my friend,” said he, turning to Father Pedro, ‘let all of
my followers gradually pass before the dying eyes of their
commander, that they may give him their last greeting.
Let my officers clasp my hand, for the last time, soon to be
chilled by death; and then you,” and his eyes gathered
moisture as he spoke, ‘‘ Pedro—the companion of my cradle,
the friend of my childhood, and martyr to my follies and
your own affection—will carry my dying benediction to my
beloved wife ; and will receive the confessions of my erring
soul, and dismiss it, free from mortal blight, to the skies
from which it emanated.”

“Your wishes shall at once be attended to,” replied the
priest ; and may that God whose mercy is infinite give vir-
tue to the absolution I will pronounce!”

Then Moscoso brought in the soldiers ; and they passed,
in single file, through the tent, each raising his cap of deer.
skin, and looking the last on their commander, who, although
stern in his edicts, had shared alike their sufferings and
dangers. ‘Then the officers, one by one, grasped his hand,
which had now lost all muscular action; and tears fell fast
from the eye-sluices of those iron-hearted men. He asked
them to choose a successor. They, leaving the selection to
him, he laid his hand on the arm of Moscoso, saying: ‘“ Be
faithful to him.” He then waived an adieu, and turned
towards his confessor. What passed between him and the
holy father is not known; but, when he came from the
tent, he answered to their inquiries that ‘‘De Soto was
dead.”

The body was buried with secrecy, and, after a few days,
was exhumed, for fear the Indians might discover and
despoil it; and then, in a dark night, at the midnight hour,

 
208 LEGENDS.

it was thrown upon the bosom of that river which he had
discovered, which will murmur his name to posterity with
more certainty than monumental obelisk and _ historical

record.
* * *K * Kk *

Father Pedro did not accompany the Spaniards when
they descended the Mississippi. He died a few days
after De Soto, and, like him, found his sepulchre amid
the waves of the Mississippi.

 
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW,
CHIEFS OF THE OMAWHAWS.

@ Legend of the Missoni.

—O0

 

Tue Mawhaw or Omawhaw Indians were once a powerful
tribe, inhabiting a large space of country in the vicinity of
Council Bluffs and the Whitestone river. They were more
powerful than their neighbours, the Pawnees, the Ottoes,
and the Missouris, and were an object of both terror and
hatred. They killed their warriors, carried off their squaws,
burned their villages,and stole their horses. There was no
redress for these grievances, except by retaliation, which was
impossible in a great degree, from the great numbers of the
Omawhaws.

At this time there were two great chiefs of the nation,
called in English, BlackBird and Little Bow; names being
frequently given, according to Indian usage, as expressive
of character or appearance. BlackBird owed his to the
dark colour of his skin, and Little Bow from his short
stature and stubborn strength. Both of the chiefs were
great warriors, and had distinguished themselves in many
battles. On the pole in front of their lodges were strung
the scalps of their enemies, but the pole of Little Bow bore
alarger number of the bloody trophies, yet was his wig-
wam poor in cloth and blankets, and his children shivered
in the winter’s wind.

The wigwam of BlackBird was furnished with all the
luxury of savage munificence—blankets, paint, beads, and
cloth, were lying about in endless profusion, whilst his
wives and children were decked in the gaudy attire of
savage taste, indicative of wealth and station.

 
   

  

210 LEGENDS.

BlackBird was the favourite of the traders; for, by his
omnipotent control over his tribe, he compelled them to
sell cheaply their furs and skins, and to pay the most exor-
bitant demands for their merchandise ; for which service,
many a package in the shape of presents were sent to his
wigwam. ‘There was much opposition, at first, to this ar-
bitrary and dishonest exercise of the power of BlackBird,
and many chiefs resisted his unjust edicts. When word
was brought to him, at times, that such and such chiefs
refused to sell their skins, and purchase goods according to
the price which he had established, he would cast his eyes
upwards, mutter a few words, and then would declare that
the ‘‘ Great Spirit,” had informed him that they would die
before the next new moon. At first, there was no belief in
these predictions ; but, strange to say, chief by chief died
mysteriously within the time he had prophesied, suffering
the greatest torments.

BlackBird, in connexion with his fame as a warrior, was
soon regarded by the nation as a Great Medicine. His
power was supreme, for the few who dared to oppose him
on a sudden died, and he was soon without a rival except
Little Bow, whom we have before mentioned. Since the
singular deaths of the most distinguished chiefs of the
nation, Little Bow had become cautious and suspicious in
all his movements, carefully avoiding coming in contact
with any of the traders, or saying or doing anything that
might bring him in collision with BlackBird, whom, as a
warrior, he feared not, but whom, as a Great Medicine, he
dreaded with all the feelings of Indian superstition. He
staid but little in the village, absenting himself for weeks at
a time for the purpose of hunting, of which he was exces-
sively fond, but now indulged to a greater extent than
ever since his dread of BlackBird.

It was in autumn, and the leaves of the forest had
changed to the golden hue preparatory to their fal] and
decay, when Little Bow, a little before nightfal, approached

 

 
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 211

his wigwam. When he was some little distance, he saw the
door of his wigwam open, and an Indian walk rapidly
from it. Little Bow thought the figure bore a resemblance
to BlackBird, and determined to see if his conjecture was
right. He quickened his step, gaining rapidly upon the
Indian, who opened the door of BlackBird’s lodge, and who
was no other than BlackBird—having had an opportunity
to recognize his features as he entered the door. Little
Bow then returned to his own lodge; and, opening the door
suddenly, saw his wife conceal quickly something in her
bosom. He did not notice the circumstance, but com-
menced to caress two of his young children who were
seated by the fire.

The manner and bearing of his wife appeared somewhat
suspicious to Little Bow: for it was nervous, uneasy, and
distant, strangely contrasting with her former frank and
affectionate behaviour. Supper was soon prepared, consist-
ing of parched corn and a kind of baked pastry, made by
rolling out the lives cf thousands of ants, and which the
Indians esteem as a great luxury. Little Bow was very
hungry; and his wife was placing the cake on alittle wooden
platter before him, when he asked when she had seen Black-
Bird? In a moment, her tawny features blanched, and her
voice trembled, as she answered that he never came to the
lodge of Little Bow.

The chief, looking sternly upon his wife, thus addressed
her :—

‘Before Oweena saw the pale face, her heart was white
as the mountain snow, and had no blackness on it; her
tongue had no fork, and she loved the husband of her
young life; but, now she carries in her bosom the gift of
the trader, and receives his enemies, who seek his life, in
his lodge. Little Bow saw his enemy, the Great Medicine,
come from his wigwam. Speak, Oweena, what did he
want in the lodge of Little Bow?”

The wife of the chief had, during this announcement, be-

 
 

  

212 LEGENDS.

come so weakened with emotions, produced from fear, ap-
parent guilt and shame, that, unable to stand, she sank
upon a small stool, which stood in the corner of the lodge.
A moment after little Bow had spoken, she stood on her
feet, and exposing her bosom, thus addressed him :—

‘‘Oweena married a great chief whom she loved with her
young heart, when it was clear as the waters of the lake
when no rain had muddled its bottom. His presence in the
lodge was a sunbeam to her soul, making it warm and
bright. When two summer suns had passed, two children
were born to Oweena, and she pressed them to her bosom
with joy, for she knew that they were the children of a
great warrior, the husband of Oweena. Three moons ago,
two great warriors of the Omawhaws died in their lodges,
because the Great Medicine chief had spoken against them
to the ‘Bad Manito.’ They were the brothers of Oweena;
and the Great Medicine chief also told her that her
husband should die, because the Bad Manito had said
it. He gave to Oweena this white sand, which he said
must be put inthe cakes of the chief, when he next
supped in the lodge. He said if Oweena put it not in
the cakes she should die also, and he gave to Oweena beads,
that she should do as his lips had said. Oweena was
looking on the beads when the great chief, her husband,
came in; her spirit had a dark cloud upon it, so she hid in
her bosom the beads. She told not her husband what the
Great Medicine had said, for she wanted him first to eat of
the cakes she had made, and be strong, as he was weak
from the chase, and then she would tell him all. Now,
strike, chief of the Omawhaws! If Oweena has a black
heart, take it from her bosom! ”’

‘** Oweena’s heart was made by the Great Spirit, and the
Bad Manito cannot enter it,’’ said the chief, caressing the
head of the young wife, which he had drawn to his bosom.

After this attempt upon his wife, Little Bow determined
secretly to collect his devoted followers and depart for some

 

 

  
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 213

other locality, where he would be free from the supernatural
power of BlackBird, and live without molestation. Cau-
tiously he opened his plan to his friends, who joyfully pro-
mised to follow him, for they all stood in fear of the Great
Medicine chief, who had the power of sending to the spirit
land all who should oppose him. In a few days every pre-
paration was made, and about two hundred warriors, with
their families, quietly left the village, and, retiring some
miles north, built their lodges as a separate community.
When BlackBird found that Little Bow had not only
escaped with his life, but had drawn off about one-third of
the nation, his anger knew no bounds. This secession was
not only a diminution of his wealth, but of his power over
the remainder of his tribe. He determined that little Bow
should not escape with impunity, and set at defiance his
authority. He was the only one who dared to question his
despotic reign, and he should die. How to effect this pur-
pose, was the question? How could he destroy Little Bow
at a distance, who had escaped all his machinations when
his dwelling had been so near him? Night and day he
pondered upon the pervading idea, yet could concoct no
scheme that appeared sufliciently feasible. He felt that as
long as Little Bow lived his authority was precarious, and
probably his life endangered.

We may as well here state to our readers in what manner
BlackBird caused his prophecies to be fulfilled, whenever he
foretold the death of any one, which he invariably did when
they rebelled against his authority. Being on the most
intimate terms with an unprincipled trader, he had learned
the fatal properties of the drug known as arsenic; and, to all
who stood in the way of his despotic power, he contrived
in some manner to administer the poison. Thus, his rivals
were mysteriously stricken from the earth by some mys-
terious power, and soon none stood in the way of his am-
bition and craving desire of gain, but the great warrior of
the Omawhaws, Little Bow. He had determined that he

 
 

  

214 LEGENDS.

should be the last great sacrifice; but, having failed in his
attempt to corrupt the fidelity of his wife, Oweena, and
from the subsequent flight of Little Bow, his long cherished
plans seemed farther than ever from their accomplishment.
He had a daughter about eighteen years of age, who was
devotedly attached to her father, and faithfully believing in
his connexion with the ‘‘ Great Spirit,’ looked up to him
with supernatural reverence. She believed her father was
a Great Medicine, and that none had a right to question his
acts or his edicts.

Full well BlackBird knew how this daughter was im-
pressed with the belief of his supernatural power; and, as
his mind was hatching schemes of vengeance to be carried
into effect upon Little Bow, he thought his daughter would
be the most certain instrument to secure a successful result,
for she possessed in a great degree his cunning and courage,
and, above all, he could rely upon her fidelity. Her
name was Wissoneka, signifying the swift roe, from the
quickness of her motions and her speed in the race.

BlackBird, after he had well matured his contemplated
plan in all its bearings, then called Wissoneka to his side, and
told her to listen to his commands. He commenced first,
of his constant intercourse with the ‘‘ Great Spirit,” his
continued good fortune, his triumph over all his enemies,
and how rich his wigwam was in the gifts of the white
man. He then told her that the ‘Great Spirit”’ was angry
with him, because Little Bow had, through persuasion,
drawn apart a nation that the ‘Great Spirit” loved, and
because he had not killed Little Bow, as he had been com-
manded. That Little Bow had now built another village,
and that it was her knife that should pierce his heart; she,
the daughter of the Great Medicine Chief. The plan deter-
mined upon by BlackBird, and his instructions to Wisso-
neka, will develop themselves in the progress of the nar-

rative.
Meanwhile, Little Bow and his associates had reared a

 

  
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 215

number of lodges in the place selected as their village, and
had dried a fine quantity of buffalo meat for their winter
supply, and the chief had become to think that BlackBird
would no more molest him. With the exception of one
excursion of the Pawnees, the colony had suffered no inter-
ruption from the neighbouring tribes, and Little Bow
thought that he could smoke the pipe of peace in his wig-
wam during the winter.

It was in the month of December, the anniversary of the
day when the wise men saw ‘“‘ the star in the East,” and an
angel announced the birth of a Saviour to the shepherds,
that Little Bow rode some distance from the village, to
look for some horses, which had strayed beyond their usual
limits. He saw a horse and rider coming towards the
village at a furious rate; and, not knowing the intention of
the rider thus coming, as if on the “ wings of the wind,”
he cautiously withdrew near to the lodges. Ina few mo-
ments, the horse, all covered with foam, at a furious rate
rushed to the village, amid the wonder of the inhabitants.

The rider, who was an Indian youth apparently about fifteen
or sixteen years of age, arrested the progress of the steed,
and, laying his hand upon his heart, in token of friendship,
leaped upon the ground. His hair was saturated with blood,
a small wound on his left cheek, and his appearance upon
the whole wobegone and distressed. Little Bow addressed
him in the Omawhaw tongue, and the youth shaking his
hand said a few words in the Pawnee language, saying that
he was come to live among the Omawhaws, for his life was
in danger from his tribe. He then went on to say that at a
great talk held by the Ottoes, the Missouris, and the Paw-
nees, they determined to enter into a confederacy against
the Omawhaw, and by surprise, during the winter, exter-
minate the whole nation. That the great Prophet of the
Pawness was consulted, and declared that the enterprise
would be successful, but it was necessary to send some one
as a spy to see whether the Omawhaws were resting in

,

 
   

LEGENDS,

unsuspicious security. The enterprise was a hazardous one,
and many young braves were awaiting to be selected for the
expedition, which, if successfully carried out, would enrol
them among the warriors of the tribe. That he, among the
rest, the smallest and the youngest, had offered his services,
for he was swift afoot as the antelope—swifter than all of
the nation—and his mother had told him that he would be
a good warrior. That when he stood up, the prophet with
a sneer had said, ‘‘ that child should be with his mother,
and should not be trusted on the war-path.’’ At these
words, he had sunk to his seat with shame. Amid the
youth of his nation, this reply of the prophet had gotten
abroad, and they commenced to jeer at his lofty aspirations,
but one continued to mock him more than the rest, and in
a fit of rage he had stabbed him to the heart—it was the
son of the prophet. Knowing what would be his doom, he
had seized the fleetest horse he could find, and came among
the Omawhaws for protection, and that he would win a
great name in conflict with their enemies.

This speech of the young Pawnee made a favourable im-
pression upon the crowd who had gathered around him, but
Little Bow versed in all strategic lore, and rendered sus-
picious from experience, replied :

“Tf the young brave is swift as an antelope in the chase,
let him try his swiftness with our fleet-footed runners; the
Omawhaws are not slow in the hunt, or like a snail, when
on the war-path against their enemies.”’

‘‘Ometo is ready,” replied the Indian youth, turning
loose his steed, ‘‘ his tongue has no fork when he says he is
swift as the antelope.”’-

In a moment there was a crowd of young Omawhaws
ready to try the speed of the stranger Pawnee, who had
come among them with such boastful pretensions. In alittle
while the course was determined upon, the starting-point
and goal arranged, and judges selected from the old men,
in honour to their age and excellence, to decide in the con-

   
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 217

‘ast. Six were chosen of the number of those who would

<pate the championship of the course with the young
Pawnee, and at a given signal they started forth for the
goal. A young Omawhaw took the lead, in the commence-
ment, amid the encouraging shouts of the nation, and held
it within a short distance of the stopping-point, when Ometo,
the young Pawnee, shot past him as an arrow, and bounded
to the spot.

Surprise, admiration, shame, and envy, were all, by turns
or together, agitating the hearts of the Omawhaws, at the
victory of the strange youth, when Little Bow, seeing how
well the stranger had verified his boast, came forward, and
taking him by the hand, said :

‘‘The young Pawnee is, indeed, as swift as an antelope
when he flies from the wolf on the plains ; he will become as
a great warrior among the Omawhaws, and he shall rest in
Little Bow’s lodge until he shall take a young squaw to
cook his meat and draw the fresh earth tohiscorn, Young
braves of the Omawhaws, take the hand of your brother,
and let your hearts warm towards him.”

Ometo then received the congratulations of the old
warriors, while the young men, forgetting their envy, cor-
dially received him into their confidence.

The intelligence brought by Ometo, that the Pawnees,
the Ottoes, and the Missouris, were all banded together to
wipe them from the earth, filled the minds of the Omawhaws
with trouble and consternation. They knew how much
they had been weakened by the two factions of the nations
becoming separated, making them capable of offering less
resistance to their enemies. A council was called; and it
was determined to lay aside all intestine dislikes, and send
word to BlackBird of the danger that was threatening the
Omawhaws; and that achosen band of the nation, under the
guidance of Little Bow, should anticipate the contemplated
attack of their enemies by making an effectual attack upon
them when least expected.

 
   

  

218 LEGENDS.

Little Bow, when the council had broken up, took the
young Pawnee to his lodge; and, placing a fine deers™&.
before him, that he might sit down, thus addressed him :

“The young brave should sleep, that his sinews may
become strong, and his body will not become stunted in its
youth. The eagle flies not always, and the deer rests upon
his haunches after his flight. Let the young brave sleep
upon the skin; and, when Oweena has cooked the corn and
the venison, Ometo shall be roused from his skin and eat of
the deer which fell by the rifle of Little Bow.”

“Ometo will wait till he has eaten,”’ replied the youth, in
a gentle voice; and then he will sleep on the skin the war-
rior has given him.” And then, sitting upon the skin, with
his back partially supported by the logs of the lodge, he
drew from a pouch which was made in the sailor-shirt he
wore closely fitting his neck and bosom, a handkerchief,
which, though small in size, was of the most striking colours.

“The wife of the great warrior of the Omawhaws,” said
he, “ will take this from the stranger who lodges in her
wigwam.”

Oweena took the proffered gift; and, as her eyes met
those of the youth, she looked intently upon him, for a
vague idea of having seen his features before rushed upon
her, and caused her to dwell upon every lineament. of his
countenance; yet, everything was indistinct and uncertain,
serving rather to produce unpleasant sensations than to
throw any light upon the memory. Every now and then,
she would throw her eyes upon the youth seated by the fire,
from some unaccountable uneasiness which she was unable
to trace to an origin. When the supper was served, the
youth eat sparingly, and was distant and reserved in his
conversation, which was uttered in the Pawnee tongue, with
which Little Bow was familiar; and, immediately after his
hunger was appeased, he sank quietly to his sleep.

It was a cold night in December; and Little Bow sat by
the fire, deeply revolving in his mind the event of the past

   
 

 

    

BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 219

day, and the incursion he was about to lead into the Pawnee
nation, who were planning the destruction of the Omawhaws.
He scarcely noticed the youth lying on his skin, so intent
was he in his meditations; but Oweena could not close her
eyes. Something connected with the strange youth weighed
upon her heart, and put to flight her slumbers. From
beneath her buffalo-skin, she watched the youth attentively
for a long time; but, seeing him continue to sleep soundly,
her mind wandered to other things, and she gradually sank
into that dreary state, half sleeping, half waking, when
Queen Mab, in her frolicsome and capricious humour, brings
into existence strange and disjointed conceptions, opening
the avenue of the brain, and letting the strange mass of
ideas with which it is filled rush and pile themselves on each
other at random, producing strange patterns of mental
mechanism. Thus strange and disconnected were the sha-
dows of thought floating through the mind of Oweena,
when the sudden falling of a piece of blazing wood banished
the airy creation, and called into action her reason. At the
moment of her awakening, her eyes turned to the spot where
the Indian youth lay. He was still sleeping; but she
thought his position was a little changed: he was now lying
on the verge of the skin, nearer to her husband, whose head
was buried in his hands, but whether sleeping or awake she
could not determine. This change of position was nothing
in itself; but, connected with the dark suspicions which had
already gathered upon the mind of Oweena, formed a mass
of threatening import. She was in a dark corner of the
lodge, and she could see without being seen; so she lay
still, watching with Argus eyes every movement of the skin
which covered the young Pawnee. After a few moments,
she felt convinced that he was awake, for his breathing
indicated consciousness, and he was watching Little Bow
through his half-closed eyes. Then the deerskin was silently
lifted from his body, and he sat erect, looking hurriedly to
the spot on which she lay. In the next moment, a knife

  

  
   

  

220 LEGENDS.

gleamed in his hand, as he sprang to his feet; and the
scream of Oweena rang through the stillness of the night,
as she threw herself between her husband and the descend-
ing blow, which was buried in her heart; and, in a moment
after, the young murderer, taking advantage of the dark-
ness, had fled from the village.

For a moment, Little Bow could not recall the scattered
properties of his mind thus forced asunder by a flood of
events so sudden and deadly in their course; but, as the
life-blood of Oweena gushed warm around his feet, he
started from his deerskin, as the fearful truth rushed upon
him with returning consciousness; and, rushing in the
darkness, the fearful war-whoop of the Omawhaws rang
from his lips.

The nation was aroused; and, as the fearful news of the
death of Oweena was disseminated, there was an universal
howl of vengeance. At daybreak, ten chosen warriors
started in pursuit, with Little Bow at their head. They
soon got on the track of the fugitive, for a little snow had
fallen during the early part of the evening, and the track
could be easily followed. ‘The first care of the fugitive had
been to secure his horse; and his tracks indicated full speed
in the direction of the Pawnee country. Little Bow and his
warriors followed on the trail for about twenty miles, when
they lost it amidst the thousands of tracks made by an
immense herd of buffaloes. After a minute search, they
could see the impress of the horse’s hoofs for a moment,
then lost it; and at some distance were perceived several
tracks of horses, different in size from the one they pursued,
and the warriors thought some hunters had been after the
buffalo; not so Little Bow: after describing a large circum-
ference, he discovered that there was only one track, and
that led into the plain where they were. He commanded
his followers to follow the track; and the party followed on
at full speed, when they came upon something glistening
upon the earth; it proved to be a medal, which, on exa-

 

 
BLACKBIRD AND LITTLE BOW. 921

mination, Little Bow pronounced the word ‘Great Medicine
Chief,” and commanded his party to return.

Wissoneka, the daughter of BlackBird, immediately, in
accordance with the commands of her father, had habited
herself in the garb of an Indian youth, gave herself two
slight wounds, painted her features, so that it would be
impossible for any one to recognize her, and riding the
swiftest horse set out upon her mission of murder. She
took the direction of the Pawnee nation, for it was her in-
tention to fly from that course when, as a Pawnee fugitive,
she would come to the Omawhaws for safety, for in early
years she had been stolen by the Pawnees, and could speak
properly their tongue.

We have seen how she failed in her purpose of killing
Little Bow, and the blow designed for him had pierced the
bosom of his faithful wife, Oweena. Wissoneka, under the
instruction of her father, BlackBird, had made every pre-
paration for her flight. She rode the swiftest horse in the
nation, and was prepared to carry into execution the most
artful stratagem. In her flight, when she came upon the
immense herd of buffaloes, she dismounted from her steed,
and strapped upon his feet pieces of tough hide in the shape
of his hoof, and rode through the mass of buffaloes so as to
give the appearance of riders in pursuit of the herd. Again
she changed the hides which she had bound to the hoof,
and again made many rapid turnings amid the path; and,
arranging the feet so that the advancing track would indi-
cate a contrary direction, she started on her return to the
Omawhaws, hoping that she had thrown successfully her.
enemies from her trail, and that Little Bow would never
think that her father had any agency in the attempt made
upon his life. But all her precautions were in vain, for
we have seen the suspicion that flashed upon Little Bow’s
mind, when the medal was found, which he recognized as
one given by some white trader to BlackBird.

When Wissoneka arrived at her home, she found the

G

 
 

  

LEGENDS.

nation in great consternation. Men, women, and children,
were dropping off by scores, before,a dreadful scourge,
which none of their medicinal knowledge could resist. Her
father was prostrated by this awful malady (smallpox).

When Wissoneka entered the lodge, BlackBird, who was
lying on a skin, called her to him, and in a weak voice thus
addressed her:

** Wissoneka! the great chief of the Omawhaws, is going
to the Happy Valley. The snow of death is about his
heart. He would hear before he dies that Little Bow died
by the hand of his daughter !”

‘** Wissoneka aimed a blow at the heart of the chief, but
his squaw threw herself before his breast, and received the
knife.”

“ He will live then in a dark cloud, for he will grieve for
his squaw—BlackBird is avenged. Wissoneka! my blood
feels like ice—a mist comes before my eyes. When I die,
see that I am robed as a warrior for the war-path, then
placed upon my horse, and buried upon the high bluff that
overlooks the Pekitanoni (Missouri). I will go to the
Happy Hunting Grounds as going to the war-path.”

These were the last words spoken by BlackBird. His
strange commands were executed, being placed upon his
horse, and the earth piled upon the dead warrior and the
living animal.

After the death of BlackBird, the nation became again
one people, recognizing Little Bow as the chief, who
governed them in moderation and justness for many years,
. Where BlackBird was interred, on the high bluff, for
many years a red flag placed by some traders waved over
his grave. The bluff still bears his name, which would
otherwise have been nearly forgotten. There is a little
creek, near by the same spot, which the French call Le
Petit Are (Little Bow), which, like the Hellespont and
Tcarian sea, will rescue a name from oblivion by its ever-
flowing waters.

 

 

  
 

223

THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL;
OR, MAJOR O'FALLON’S DECISION,

@ Legend of ihe AMissonrt,
OP aE:

Mr. Joun Doveuerrty was for many years the interpreter
of Major O'Fallon, the celebrated Indian agent of the
government for the tribes west of the Mississippi. He re-
sided among various tribes for several years, and spoke
fiuently the different tongues, and was acquainted with the
various habits peculiar to that remarkable people. It is
unfortunate for history that neither he nor Major O’Fallon
has given a written narrative to the world of their inter-
course with that primitive people, concerning whose origin
the historians and learned divines of all countries have in-
dulged in the most visionary conjectures, and whose reli-
gion, manners, and customs must ever be subjects of the
most intense interest and inquiry. Their knowledge would
have been a mine of wealth to the field of literature, and
beyond all price and usefulness to the inquirers after truth in
future ages ; for, though much has been written of the In-
dian, there are but few facts—the voluminous volumes
which have issued from the press being nothing more than
the imaginary creations of the authors’ brains.

Some time during the year eighteen hundred and
fourteen, a young squaw of the tribe of the Omawhaws,
apparently about twenty-one years of age, came, early in
the morning, to Mr. Dougherty, with a countenance ex-
pressive of the deepest affliction. She had been wronged
by the white man (an oft-repeated truth), and her children,
of which he was the father, torn by force from her. Her

 
 

  

224 LEGENDS.

simple narrative, which we have given in our own language,
is as follows :—~

Lecenp or Mattwana, tHe Brerrayvep Inp1AN Girt.

Matiwana was the daughter of the leading chief of the
Omawhaws, a small tribe dwelling on Omawhaw creek, near
the margin of the Upper Missouri. She had been fre-
quently sought in marriage by many warriors of her nation,
but she, being unwilling at that time to become a wife, and
her father not forcing her inclinations, all their offers were
rejected.

She was about seventeen years of age, and possessing
remarkable physical beauty, when the eyes of an unprin-
cipled trader fell upon her. As he looked upon her raven
locks, flowing to her waist, and her voluptuous proportions,
which would not have shamed those of a Venus de Medici,
his sensual heart at once took fire, and the blood rushed
like a lava-flood through his veins.

He made inquiries concerning her, and learned she was

the daughter of the chief. To possess her he was deter-,

mined upon, and to do it ina manner that would be at-
tended with the least disquietude and trouble to himself.
He purposed her seduction.

To effect this, he often visited the father; smoked with
him in the lodge ; made him presents of whisky and beads,
and, by his seeming generous behaviour, soon possessed
almost omnipotent control of the chief, whose nature had
become degraded by the fire-water, and had, at all times,
freedom of ingress to the lodge.

Having every opportunity, he had tried every means to
ingratiate himself with Matiwana by gifts and flattery, to
undermine the vestal purity of her character; but, though
born in the wilderness, she had been taught to regard her
innocence as a sanctuary that should be p:. served pure and

 

 

 

  
 

 

a. 2

THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL. 225

undefiled from any profane and unhallowed touch. All the
trader’s arts were fruitless, and the virtue of Matiwana
triumphed over every temptation with which he assailed
her.

There was but one way in which he could succeed, and
that was marrying her, which he was resolved to do, al-
though he had then a beautiful wife in the Eastern States,
who was bewailing his absence in ‘* widowhood of soul.”

After determining on wedding Matiwana, he went to her
father and preferred his suit, telling him of his love for his
daughter, his determination of dwelling always among them,
and buying their skins, and the influence that he would
exert in favour of the Omawhaws from his connexion with
the whites. The chief was satisfied—was delighted. He
saw his daughter, told her the wish of the trader, the ad-
vantages of such an alliance to the tribe, and commanded
her to accede to the proposal.

An offer of marriage, coming from a white man in
authority, as a trader was, is a rare occurrence among the
Indians, and flattering in its signification. Matiwana, thus
honourably wooed, consented, and became the trader’s
bride.

Twice a year the trader visited the States to dispose of
his furs, and, on his return to the nation from his second
trip, he found that his Indian bride had presented him with
a beautiful daughter. Matiwana was devotedly attached to
her husband, but he grew cold and neglectful towards her,
often treating her in the most cruel and inhuman manner;
for his passion, which was the only tie that bound him to
the opposite sex, had been satisfied, and his simple and
affectionate Indian wife became an object, first of in-
difference, and then of dislike. Still she loved him with an
affection nearly allied to idolatry, nor could his coldness,
indifference, and cruelty, quench the pure flame of her heart,
or tempt her to retaliation.

She soon became the mother of a second child, a boy,

 
 

  

226 LEGENDS.

and soon after its birth the trader started on his accustomed
visit to the States, with his merchandise of furs and skins.
He had obtained Matiwana’s consent in taking to the
settlements their daughter. The mother’s grief at the
departure of her child was heartrending in the extreme.
She embraced and kissed her over and over again; and,
after she had gone from her sight, she fell on her knees,
and, while the tears coursed down her cheeks in torrents,
she implored the ‘‘ Great Spirit’ to shield her from disease
and death, and finally return her safe again to her arms.

The trader was absent many months, and, after the time
of his usual return had expired, Matiwana began to pine in
her grief, and became fond of her lonely wanderings. She
would sit by hours by the little streams, which flowed a
little distance from her lodge, and talk to the ideal person-
ages of her husband and child, questioning and answering
by turns, sometimes laughing, and at other times weeping
and sobbing in her conversation.

Meanwhile the trader, having disposed of his skins, went
to the little village in which he had left his wife. She was
dead. He affected to mourn for her a few weeks, and
then married a young and romantic girl, who was daz-
zled at the prospect of a residence among savage Indians
and the wild scenes of uncultivated nature. He carried his
young wife to his distant home, but, when he arrived at St.
Louis, he remained in that city for a few days, and sent
word to some of his agents to send Matiwana off to her
tribe, some seventy miles from the trading-post.

When she was told that her husband was coming, bring-
ing with him a white wife, and that it was his orders that
she should depart to her nation, her grief was excessive,
and she refused to leave. Force was called into requisition,
and she was sent to the Omawhaws. In her father’s lodge
she remained but one night, and started back to the trading-
post, with her infant boy strapped to her back.

On the second day of her journey, almost exhausted with

   

  
THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL. 227

cold and hunger, she lay by the side of a stream and
quenched her thirst, but had nothing to appease her gnaw-
ing hunger. She gathered a few roots, and, satisfying as
she could by this means the cravings of appetite, slept long
and soundly.

On awakening, she discovered that a new sorrow, like a
vampire, had commenced to drink her blood ; for her young
babe had disappeared during her sleep, and was nowhere to
be seen. She thought he might have crawled a little dis-
tance, but she examined every bush, and every blade of
grass, for hundreds of yards around, and with no success.
AJjl her natural instincts were aroused. She examined
minutely the signs of the leaves and the earth around the
spot near which she lay. Her worst fears became realized.
Her child was stolen, for she saw distinctly the signs of the
moccasin fresh upon the earth, indicating the presence of
an Indian at a recent date. That some straggling savage
had stolen her child whilst she slept, she had not the least
doubt, but, from whence he came, or whither he went, she
was unable to conjecture.

For a few moments, she abandoned herself to paroxysms
of grief, then, forming a heroic resolution, she bound up
her long hair, laced tightly the moccasins upon her feet,
and, arming herself with a short club, which she cut from
a young hickory with a knife she had carried with her from
her husband’s lodge, commenced her search for her stolen
boy.

First, she examined carefully every touch of the moccasin
that was visible upon the leaves or the earth, carefully
scrutinizing the size and the direction.

She came to the conclusion, after careful observation,
that there were two Indians travelling together who had
committed the theft, and that they were travelling towards
the north. One of the tracks was larger than the other,
indicating that either a squaw or a youth was one of the

pair.

 
    

  

228 LEGENDS.

Now fairly satisfied that she was on the right track, cau-
tiously she pursued it. She had not followed the track more
than two miles, before she saw upon the leaves of the paths
a berry—then another—and finally a third; her heart beat
with renewed delight at the sight of each berry, for her
child had a small garland of these berries around his neck,
and she knew, from the manner in which they were pierced,
that they were the same.

Certain now, beyond probability, that her only boy but a
little while before had been carried along this scarcely im-
perceptible path, she accelerated her speed, and ran briskly
until nightfal, and, not being able to pursue the track on
account of the darkness, she sat by the foot of a tree to
await the morning.

During the night the rain fell in torrents, and the earth
was filled with sluices of water, and Matiwana, to her great
grief, found that every vestige of the track had been de-
stroyed bythe rain. She determined, however, on pursuing
the direction which the tracks indicated, before the fall of the
rain had rendered them imperceptible. Onward she went
through the water and the mud, until she arrived at a river
swollen to twice its usual size, of tremendous width, and
rolling with fearful rapidity. She stood amazed for a few
moments upon the banks, and looked carefully around to
see if any canoe was concealed in the vicinity, by any ma-
rauding party of Indians, or lonely trapper, to convey them
across the river, in their wanderings. No boat, no canoe
was anywhere to be seen, and Matiwana sat in despair upon
the earth, hungry, fatigued, and heart-broken.

The stnbeam is loveliest when it bursts through the
thickening clouds, like a smile from Heaven; and it is in
its despairing moments, when all of its life-throes are
chilled by freezing anguish, that the heart burns and quickens
the most readily when a ray of joy glides upon it.

As Matiwana thus sat, ‘like Niobe, all tears,’ she saw
before her something freshly carved upon a birch-tree.

 

 
 

THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL, 229

In a moment she was standing before the tree, en-
deavouring to read the import of the characters covered
upon it. She well knew that those marks thus traced upon
the tree, were left as a guide to some other Indians, who
were to follow in the same tracks, which the authors of
those mysterious symbols had pursued. She studied the
symbols with more than a pilgrim’s love, when he stands
before some temple or shrine, the work of ages long past, and
endeavours to read upon its decaying base the mystic scroll,
plainly engraven, but conveying no thought--no idea, the
meaning so suggestive, hidden from his mental vision and
wrapped in oblivion.

If Matiwana could not understand the import of the
characters upon the birch-tree, yet there was one fact evi-
dent: they were recently traced by some hand, and its per-
fect freshness would show almost beyond the probability of
doubt, that it was done by the party she was in pursuit of.

By those instinctive feelings which sometimes guide us
in critical emergencies, she concluded that they had crossed
the river at this place; and, could she succeed in fording
it, she would soon again be upon the fresh trail. But
where was the canoe or boat which was to carry her to the
opposite shore? In vain, she ‘searched; nothing of the
kind could be found. A large dried limb of a tree had
lodged against the bank, With the aid of her knife she
succeeded in divesting it of many of its smaller branches,
and then stripping from her person the little clothing which
covered her, and wrapping it up in a little bundle, fearlessly
plunged in the river, supported by the limb which she
launched.

In early youth, Matiwana, according to the customs of
the Indians, had been taught to swim, and that useful
accomplishment now served her in her necessity. Far
down the stream she was carried by the swift current, and,
after a continued struggle for two hours, when almost
exhausted, she gained the opposite shore. She was more

 
 

230 LEGENDS.

than a mile distant from the spot immediately opposite to
the place she had plunged in the river, and, after adjusting
her clothes which she carried over on the tree, she pro-
ceeded along the banks of the river, until the birch-tree on
which she had seen the symbols engraven, stood imme-
diately opposite.

Again she commenced a search for some sign to guide
her in the direction of the fugitives, and again were her
efforts successful ; for, where a tall maple grew along the
margin she saw cut out upon the bark the same characters
that she had seen on the other side of the river. Again
she started on her search, and, after an hour’s travel, came
to a deep grove, where she saw branches had been broken
to form a shelter, and the remains of a fire which was still
slumbering in the ashes; and there, clear as the noonday,
she saw a child’s foot impressed upon the ashy bed.

Maternal instincts were in her heart, and she looked up
to the “Great Spirit,’ who, even in her mistaken creed,
was the source of all goodness, with the accents of thank-
fulness on her lips.

The tracks were now fresh, and she almost flew upon the
trail, though she had partaken of no nourishment for two
days. She hoped ere the night of the day to come up with
the fugitives. She didso. She saw them about a quarter
of a mile distant, crossing a small open plain, just before
the sun sank to his western bed. There was a full grown
Indian and a youth, and she saw a pack upon the back of
the latter, which her heart told her was that of her lost
child, and it was living, for an Indian never carries a dead
body to a distance, unless killed in battle. She knew they
would soon camp for the night, and, redoubling her pre-
cautions, she followed them until she saw them halt and
commence getting brushwood for their night encampment.

Agony of mind at the loss of her child, added to her pre-
vious suffering, had so fully ‘occupied her mind that she
had formed no purpose for the recovery of her boy; but,

   

  
THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL. 231

now seeing him in the distance, seated on the knee of one
of his captors, hundreds of schemes floated on the rapid
currents of her thoughts, for his rescue. After much
deliberation, she determined to effect his recapture in the
same way he had been stolen.

It was one of those ambrosial nights we often see in the
month of June, when the atmosphere has been cooled and
purified by a preceding storm, when not a cloud floats in
the infinity of space, and myriads of stars, forming the
galaxy of heaven, look down with a mellow radiance.

Matiwana had no clock nor watch to speak the hours in
her lonely vigils, yet she was not at aloss. She watched
the Pleiades in their course, and knew, by the position they
occupied, the heurs as they passed. Midnight came; cau-
tiously she advanced where the warrior and youth lay un-
conscious of danger, buried in deep sleep; and her little
son, too, was there, sleeping close to the side of the youth.

Noiselessly and tremblingly as an aspen, Matiwana ad-
vanced to where her child lay, and she was on the eve of
stooping to raise him from the earth, when a stick broke
beneath her, and both the warrior and youth were awoke.

Matiwana felt that all was at stake, and in an instant her
knife found its way to the heart of the youth, at the same
time that the weight of the young and powerful warrior
bore her to the earth. The strength of Matiwana was no-
thing to that of her adversary, but, by a dexterous move-
ment she succeeded in cutting his ham-strings, which made
it impossible for him to pursue her when she eluded his
grasp. ‘The warrior, when he found himself disabled, and
unable to pursue his female foe, who had slidden from his
grasp, threw, with all his force, his tomahawk, which, if
Matiwana had not avoided by a timely dodge, her earthly
career had terminated. She ran and seized the tomahawk,
and buried it in the brain of the warrior as he was en-
deavouring to gain his bow and arrow, which lay at a little
distance from him,

 
   

  

232 LEGENDS,

Now, freed from her enemies, Matiwana caught her child
in her arms, who was screaming upon the earth; she
lavished upon it the most endearing caresses, examined
every part of it minutely to see if it had suffered any injury,
and, being satisfied of its perfect state, again lavished upon
it her never-tiring attentions, and speaking to it in the most
endearing epithets.

After thus devoting some time to the gratification of her
maternal instincts, Matiwana then reflected on the danger
of her situation, She was many miles from her nation, and
a great distance from the trading-posts of the whites. She
knew that there was a party of Indians behind her, for she
saw in the symbols upon the trees, made by the two dead
Indians, that some of their friends should follow in their
wake.

She hastily gathered what provisions—consisting of
parched corn and dried buffalo—the Indians had in a little
wallet, and commenced her journey, ere it was dawn, towards
the place her husband occupied as a trading-post. That
star which the mariners single from the sky

“To steer their bark for ever by,”

was her guide and companion through the wilderness, and,
after nearly a week of incessant fatigue and travel, she
reached her destination in safety, having miraculously
escaped falling into the hands of the Pawnees, who were a
part of the number she had killed, and who had pursued
her almost to the block-house for the purpose of wreaking
vengeance upon her for their slain companions, whose bodies
they had found two days after Matiwana had departed.
When she arrived at the lodge of her husband, she
cautiously knocked at the door, which was opened by the
young white wife of the trader. In a moment the convic-
tion flashed upon her that the white woman was her rival,
and she looked upon her with the most minute attention,
tracing every lineament, and watching every motion, The

 

—_
A i

THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL. 235

young wife of the trader was offended, and probably a little
alarmed, at the earnestness of her gaze, and asked her what
she wanted? Before she could answer, the trader called to
Matiwana, for he had seen her from an outhouse where he
then was, and hastened, that he might prevent any explana-
tion between the two wives.

At the sound of his voice, Matiwana hastened towards
him, and would have thrown her arms around his neck, but
he coldly repulsed her. She then put forward her child,
then about eighteen months old, and the smile upon its
innocent features, as it looked up to its father, somewhat
thawed the coldness ‘of the trader’s heart, and he received
it into his arms. Matiwana, thus encouraged, again endea-
voured to give some token of affection, and again was re-
pulsed more roughly than before.

The trader then told her that he had taken another wife,
and that all further intercourse between them should cease
for the future ; that she should return to her tribe, at liberty
to marry an Omawhaw warrior, and that he would take the
child, and send it to the settlements. Tears stood in the
eyes of Matiwana at this cruel speech, and smothered sobs
escaped from her bosom.

The trader offered her presents, and told her that she
could easily marry again, and ‘that she was richer by far
than when he took her from her father.

The broken-hearted and devoted Indian looked up to him
with a gaze of mild and melancholy reproach, and thus ad-
dressed him: ‘“ Husband (a name by which she always
spoke to him), when you took Matiwana from her father’s
lodge, she was a child of seventeen summers; many thought
she was beautiful. She was compared to the wild flowers
that blossom upon the prairies. She was sought in mar-
riage by many warriors, to adorn their wigwams. She
refused them all, for her heart then knew no love. You
came, and praised Matiwana more than the rest; told her

 
   

234 LEGENDS.

she was lovely ; that you would love her, and live with her
always. She believed you. She left her father, mother,
brothers and sisters, and her nation; came and lived with
you ; has been faithful to you, and nursed you in sickness.
Husband, do you say that I am richer than before, and that
I can marry an Owawhaw warrior, who will console me for
you? No, Iam not richer. Can you give back to Mati-
wana the first days of her young life; the time when she
first slept upon your bosom? Can she give to another what
she gave to you—a heart that had never loved before, and
was untouched with sorrow? Matiwana will never marry.
If you will drive her from you, leave the young boy, that he
may sleep to her heart when it is heavy in its trouble. Take
not away the young child, husband, from the lonely
Matiwana.”

This feeling address did not alter the determination of
the unprincipled trader. He avowed his determination
both to discard her and send the boy to the settle-
ments.

Matiwana, seeing all intercession vain, and fearful that
she would be separated for ever from her child, seized him
in a moment of terror, and fled into the wilderness. For
several days she remained concealed, and then determined
upon returning and making another effort to effect a recon-
ciliation with her husband, or, at all events, to get his per-
mission to retain the child.

Meantime, the story of his amour with the Indian maiden
had become known to his white wife, and for several days
the trader had to suffer all the fury of a domestic thunder-
storm.

Matiwana, on returning, sought the presence of Major
O’Faillon, at that time the superintendent of the Govern-
ment, and told him her affecting narrative. She asked him
to intercede with her husband that he would permit her to
keep her child, even if he discarded her. Major QO’ Fallon

 
  

-—-
THE BETRAYED INDIAN GIRL, 235

was moved at the history of her wrongs, and resolved to
interfere in her behalf. He sent-Mr. John Dougherty, at
that time his interpreter, for the trader; and, he being
brought into his presence, he commanded him, at his peril,
never again to attempt to separate the child from its Indian
mother.

Matiwana, through Major O’Fallon’s interference, kept
her child, but soon died; for the Indian has feelings that
can be crushed, and a heart that can be broken,

 
   

    

LEGENDS,

ISAAC,
THE NEGRO MURDERER AND EXECUTIONER,

A Legend of the Aississrppi.

—
Cuarrer I,

The bad character of Isaac—His murderous proclivities—Murders a
sailor—Is kidnapped by the inhabitants, and thrown into the Mis-
sissippi—He is rescued from death—The fearful presentiment of
Madame Euno—He is sent up the Missouri—Attempts the murder
of one of the crew—Is lashed in a terrible manner, and left in the
wilderness—His life is saved by the Indians.

—_——o9—

In 1790, during the Spanish domination under Zenon
Trudeau, there was a family of considerable importance
residing in St. Louis, by the name of Lecompte, who had
in their possession a negro slave by the name of Isaac.
From a boy the negro gave indications of such mischievous
proclivities, that he became noted as a “‘ bad fellow’’ by the
inhabitants of the little village; and he was suspected of
several serious crimes. [le was severely chastised by one
of his master’s neighbours for the robbery of his melon-
patch, and then the wanton destruction of the whole; and
that night the house was burned to the ground. Another
time, he made an infamous proposal to a young girl; ‘and,
on her informing her lover, who was one of the hardy
voyageurs of the Mississippi, he went even to the house of
the negro’s master, and, attacking him on the piazza with
a huge knife, left him weltering in his blood. It was hoped,
universally, that the negro would die of his severe wounds ;
but he recovered, and some months afterwards the voyageur
mysteriously disappeared. The last that was seen of him

 

 
 

 

ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER. 237

was one night, when he declared his intention of going to
the banks of the river to see if he could discover any light
from a keel-boat ascending, which he expected. He was
stealthily watched and followed by the negro, who, armed
with a huge club, succeeded in felling his unsuspecting
victim by a blow, and then, whilst prostrate, stabbed him
several times to the heart. To conceal his crime, he tied
large stones to the body, and heaved it into the river.

He then cut the fastenings of a canoe, and, after much
labour, succeeded in sinking it; and, the villagers, seeing
that the canoe had gone, concluded that it had been taken
by the voyageur, who had suddenly taken it for some pur-
pose, which would be explained on his return.

It became known among the villagers that whoever, by
word or deed, made themselves Isaac’s enemy, would cer-
tainly suffer some misfortune; a barn or dwelling would be
burned, or a field of corn would be de&troyed, or some
favourite animal be lamed or killed; and so cunningly did
the perpetrator of these outrages lay his plans, that, though
he was more than suspected, yet there could be no direct
proof brought against him.

Some of the inhabitants determined to rid themselves of
the fiend in human shape in a summary manner. ‘Three of
them unkertook the task, and, disguising their features by
blacking them so that they could not be recognized, suc-
ceeded in surprising and overpowering the negro one night,
whilst he was prowling about the village, and, carrying
him to a boat, they put out for the channel of the Mis-
sissippl.

In all the taunts of his captors, the negro preserved a
most sullen indifference, nor answered one word; but,
before he arrived in the middle of the stream, with giant
strength he burst the cords which bound his hands 3 and,
though he was grabbed by three most powerful men, in the
scuffle he eluded their grasp by upsetting the boat, thus
compelling them to look out for their own safety; aud

 
 

 
 

238 LEGENDS,

then, diving like an otter, he escaped the further search
that was made for him when his captors had again uprighted
the boat.

It was early in the month of April, and as yet the Upper
Mississippi, had not been loosed from its icy bondage, and
therefore, its waters being so cold, the negro, after swim-
ming nearly half an hour, found his limbs begin to numb
and weaken, and the shore was still distant. Still he
struggled onward, but soon ceased to swim, his lower
extremities becoming paralyzed with the cold, and only by
the floundering of his arms could he keep his head above
the water. Soon the arms, too, began to lose their power,
and, the mouth dipping beneath the surface of the water,
he would feel the horrors of strangulation for a moment;
and again, by a desperate effort, elevating his head, would
still struggle to move his limbs to take him to the shore,
on which his straining eyes were fixed. More and more
frequently his mouth would gulp in the water; and then,
at last, the horrors of the drowning struggle commenced :
and, just as he became unconscious, and the large bubbles
of his labouring breath were rising to the surface, a canoe
shot to the spot, and a muscular hand grasped the thick,
curly hair of the negro as it was disappearing, and the
insexsible body was lifted into the slight craft; and the
rescuer, with a paddle which he used most dexterously,
almost flew down the course of the ‘‘ Father of Waters,’’
and directed his boat to the shore, where the little French
hamlet, Vide Poche (now Carondelet), stood.

Fastening his canoe, he proceeded some little distance to
a cabin, and returned with a woman, with whose assistance
he reinoved the body of the negro to the cabin, and com.
menced the process usually pursued for restoring partially-
drowned persons—by rubbing. A fire was also quickly
kindled by the woman, and its genial warmth assisted the
friction; and in half an hour the heart commenced freely
to beat, an expression to steal upon the features, and a

 

  
ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER, 239

deep sigh, forcing itself through the lips, showed that the
vital functions were beginning to resume their power. A
little spirit was then poured down the negro’s throat, and
in a little time afterwards he was able to relate to his bene-
factors the attempt which had been made to drown him in
the Mississippi.

A little warm food was prepared by the woman, of which
the negro heartily partook; and she gave him, also, some
dry clothes belonging to her husband; so that, in a very
short time, the negro felt as comfortable as if he had not, a
few hours before, nearly become food for fishes.

The name of the man who owned the cabin was Euno,
and he was surprised to suddenly see the ruddy features of
his wife change to a deadly expression, as she clung to the
side of the house for support. The husband rushed to his
wife; and, as her head rested upon his shoulder, she whis-
pered, ‘‘ Oh, how I fear that negro! His eyes looked like
coals of fire just now as he gazed upon me, and my heart
feels sick and fearful.”

The husband re-assured the wife, who ia a little while
tried to smile off her weakness, for which there could be no
reasonable cause; but, when she would look towards the
negro, the same instinctive dread would seize her, and a
shuddering sensation would pervade her frame. It was one
of those unaccountable presentiments which sometimes steal
over the heart, chilling by its dread. The spirit, in its
ethereal nature, feels the shadow of approaching evil, and
shrinks and cows at its contemplation. Madame Euno felt
that some dreadful evil would betide her from the negro;
and, do all that she could, she could not shake off the fore-
boding; and, when the day dawned, and she saw him take
his departure, she felt her former buoyant spirits at once
revive, and the gloomy shadow of coming evil flit away, as
the form of the negro disappeared towards Pain Court (St,

Louis).

When Isaac arrived in St. Louis, there were those who,

 
   

240 LEGENDS,

being in the conspiracy to drown him, and knew that he
had Leen left in the channel of the Mississippi, and thought
that he was certainly drowned, began to think he was par-
ticularly under the influence of the Evil One, and to their
former aversion was coupled a supernatural fear,

Isaac was at this time about twenty-two years of age,
mammoth in his build, and endowed with almost super-
human strength. He had one cf those sullen, dogged looks
which always create unfavourable impressions, and are indi-
cations of a heart nursing every unhallowed passion. He
was alone in the world—even among his own race he was
hated and feared.

Monsieur Lecompte, seeing the bad odour which Isaac
was in among the neighbours, and believing, from the late
attempt that was made, that his life would be ultimately
taken—and glad, too, of having an opportunity of ridding
himself of a negro who was incorrigibly bad and worthless,
and whose proneness to evil he dreaded—bargained with a
trader, who was about starting for the Upper Missouri, to
take him on the trading expedition, hoping that the disci-
pline and privations which he would undergo would have
some effect in humanizing his disposition, subdue his stub-
bornness, and cure his idleness. The boat’s crew among
whom Isaac was placed received him with much unwilling-
ness; for, as we have before observed, he was universally
hated, and the sullen demeanour of the negro did not abate
their prejudice.

The different boats’ crews that ascended the Missouri at
that period were a hardy, half-civilized, daring race, who
earned a livelihood by hunting and trapping among the
savages. They were at first satisfied to look upon the
negro with silent disgust, nor interfered with the sullenness
and idleness in which he appeared prone to indulge. How-
ever, after a voyage of a few days from St. Louis, they
ordered him to take the oar; and, on his not instantly
obeying the summons, one of the hardy couriers des bois

   
 

  

ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER. 241

gave him a blow on the side of his head, with a force
that would have been creditable to a bear, and was near
upsetting him in the river.

All of the bloody instincts of the negro were aroused by
this treatment ; his eyes flashed red and fiery, like those of
an adder, and he was on the eve of suddenly springing
upon the hunter, when he saw the latter draw a huge knife
from his belt, and, with the fire of battle in his eye, await-
ing and desiring an attack. This would not have deterred
him, but he saw the scowling looks of all in the boat
lowered upon him, and he felt that there was no chance at
that time of gratifying his revengeful feelings. He dog-
gedly took the oar amid the jeers of the crew, who were
rejoicing at his discomfiture, and awaited a more favourable
opportunity for the gratification of his revenge.

The negro worked as he was ordered, in sullen silence,
and bore, with seeming indifference, the gibes of the crew.
He was, however, carefully watched for some time; but,
there being no indication of a malicious intent, the watch-
fulness was relaxed.

The boat had arrived nearly to the point where the town
of Omaha now stands, when one night the negro and an-
other of the crew were rowing up the stream of the Mis-
souri—all of the rest being asleep. The murderous designs
which he had for many days nursed in his heart, and fed in
prospect—his nature craving revenge—the negro deter-
mined to execute. He cautiously secured a knife belonging
to one of the hunters, determining, silently, to kill the per-
son who was rowing with his back towards him; and he
had hopes of despatching all of the others, as they were
soundly asleep. .

The murderous design was, however, frustrated in the
commencement; for, when he pulled the oars from the
water, the other rower turned his head to see what was the
matter, and, on seeing Isaac almost upon him with a drawn
knife, he gave a terrific yell, and leaped into the water, and

 

  
  

aa en TT

I

Se

242 LEGENDS,

just in time to escape a desperate lunge the negro had
made, and which, had he remained in his position in the
boat, would, in all probability, have proved fatal.

The negro was maddened with rage at seeing his mur-
derous scheme thus frustrated at the very outset, and leaped
into the water, resolving, at all events, to sacrifice one vic-
tim to his fury, and struck out towards him who had made
the alarm that had now roused to their feet all of the
crew.

The hunter that was in the water was unharmed, and, as
he saw the negro plunge into the water with a knife be-
tween his teeth, called loudly to his companions for assist-
ance, and endeavoured to escape from his pursuer, whose
murderous intentions he divined. The negro, however,
with a few strokes of his powerful arms reached him, and,
clutching him by one arm, was in the act of plunging the
knife in his body, when a blow from an oar upon the head
of the mulatto, from one of the crew, submerged him in the
water, and for a moment put his faculties into confusion,
and before he recovered he was thoroughly secured.

‘There were several boats on the same expedition, all
belonging to the same trader, and the one in which this
occurrence took place was in advance of the others. It
vas resolved to await the coming up of the rest, as it was
necessary that the trader should be informed of the
outrage,

In due time the boats arrived; and the trader, -after
hearing the statement of the crew, ordered the boats
ashore ; and the vegro then, in the presence of the whole
party, was stripped, bound to a tree, and given three hun-
dred lashes on the bare back. His flesh was mangled in a
most terrible manner from his neck to his buttocks, but not a
groan escaped him—not a muscle quivered. He stood the

excruciating torment as if his flesh had been of marble.
He was then turned loose in the wilderness, without arms
to defend himself from savages or wild beasts, or to pros

   
 
 
   
  
 
   
   
   
 
ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER, 243

cure sustenance. It was the wish and design of the trader
and his followers that he should be killed by some band of
marauding Indians, or else die with all the torments of gra-
dual starvation.

After the departure of the boats, for two days the negro
remained on the spot where he had been left, hoping that
he might sce some boat returning from the mountains, in
which he could return to St. Louis. Then he began to
suffer the most excruciating torments. The wounds upon
his back began to fester, and his frame commenced to grow
weak from suffering’ and want of sustenance. Unless
speedily relieved, he would have died, as he knew nothing
of the nature of those roots which were edible, and
on which he could possibly have subsisted for a long
time.

While he was thinking in what manner he could prolong
life, he heard a rustling of the branches of the forest, and
in a moment afterwards a large elk bounded to within a
few feet of where he was, and fell, dying, from an arrow
which was half buried in his sides.

The animal had scarcely fallen, when a ferocious Indian,
with his features daubed with war-paint, emerged from a
dense part of the forest, and was proceeding towards the
animal which he had killed, when his eye rested upon the
negro, who was in a sitting attitude, and in a moment the
arrow was fitted to the string, the bow was drawn to its
full tension, and, instantaneously as the arrow took its
flight, Isaac threw himself prostrate upon the earth, and
the missile passed with fearful force above him. The
savage, seeing the failure of his shot, hastily took another
arrow from a quiver which was hung upon his back, and
was proceeding to adjust it, when the negro rose to his
knees, and, looking deprecatingly at the Indian, placed his
hands upon his heart as a token of submission. This act
saved his life; for the savage advanced cautiously towards
him, and, seeing his emaciated, forlorn condition, uttered a

 
   

   

244 LEGENDS.

loud signal, and in a few moments half a dozen followers
arrived at the spot, and, assembling around the negro,
regarded him with the greatest curiosity. It was evident
they had never seen a negro before, from the considerable
pow-wow they held over him. They would have been
more astonished had Isaac been of the real genuine African
hue.

The savages then cooked a portion of the deer upon the
spot, and by signs expressed a wish that the negro would
eat the half-cooked morsel which they placed before him ;
but the terrible chastisement which he had received had
taken away all of his appetite; a fever had set in, which
was scorching his vitals, attended with a burning thirst.
He made signs to the savages that he suffered from his
back; and they, discovering its dreadful condition, showed
signs of sympathetic feeling, and one of them commenced
gathering herbs and the roots of plants possessing healing
and soothing properties; and, after well bruising them,
placed them upon the raw, mangled, and festering portions
of his body, and almost instantly he felt relief from the
soothing application.

‘The Indians were a band of the wandering Pawnees, who
had come on a war-excursion into the territories of the
Omahas.* They had, the night before, taken three scalps,
and with these trophies of victory had travelled incessantly
since towards their own nation; for they well knew that,
when the fate of the three Omaha Indians became known
to their tribe, pursuit would immediately follow,

The Indians hastily finished their repast, and made signs
for Isaac to proceed with them, significantly shaking a
gleaming tomahawk before his eyes, showing what would
be the consequence of a refusal. The negro felt much
refreshed from the dressing of his wounds, and was enabled

+ ns

* This is sometimes written “Omawhaws.” In these Legends, the
author has adopted both methods,
ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER, 245

to keep up with the rapid pace of the savages, who, though
pursued hotly by the Omahas, succeeded in escaping to their
own country.

Cuarter II.

The foreboding of Madame Kuno continues—She prophesies that some
dreadful evil will befal her—The return of Isaac—His appearance,
aud apparent reformation—He commits violence upon Madame.
Euno, and murders her in the common fields of Vide Poche
(Carondelet).

Sete

Three years had elapsed since Isaac had departed from
St. Louis, and some of those who had made part of the
expedition had returned; and they brought with them the
relation of the murderous attempt of the negro, his fearful
punishment, and his probable fate—that he had been either
devoured by wild beasts, killed by savages, or had died
from starvation. His long absence confirmed the conjec-
tures; and, so heartily was he detested, that there was a
universal satisfaction felt by the people of St. Louis that he
had thus been cut off, and that the community would no
more suffer from his presence.

The very name of the negro Isaac among many of the
inhabitants excited a dread; and, especially, the remem-
brance of him appeared to exercise a fearful influence upon
Madame Euno, who, it may be remembered, assisted her
husband in conveying Isaac from the canoe to her cabin
when in asphixia from drowning, where she had performed
the part truly of a Samaritan. It will be remembered that,
after the negro had returned to consciousness, how fearfully
his presence seemed to affect her: and, without having any
reasonable cause, how her soul foreboded that some great
evil would befal her through him.

 
   

  

246 LEGENDS.

Whenever the name of Isaac would be mentioned in the
presence of Madame Euno, she instinctively shuddered, and
in her dreams at night she would awaken her husband by
her moaning and crying out; and, on being aroused, would
say that she had dreamed of the negro attempting to mur-
der her. Her husband and friends tried to laugh away the
fearful presentiment which had so strangely seized upon
her, and was working with such fearful effect. She, her-
self, would also try to reason away her fears; and more
particularly were they groundless, since, beyond almost
probable doubt, Isaac was dead.

However, a real misfortune befel Madame Euno. Her
husband had been seized with an attack of one of those
virulent fevers which are often incident to pioneer settle-
ments, and in a few weeks expired, leaving her a widow of
some thirty-five years of age, and childless. She had,
however, taken some time before into her cabin a little girl
of some ten years of age, to relieve the loneliness of life ;
and, after the death of her husband, she still kept the little
girl with her, by the consent of her parents, and looked
upon and loved her as her own daughter.

Monsieur Lecompte and the sevale of St. Louis were
astonished, one afternoon during the summer months, by
seeing Isaac, whom they had supposed long dead, appear
among them, but so altered in appearance that he was
scarcely recognizable, His cheeks were wan and hollow;
his giant form was shorn of its flesh ; he was almost in a
naked condition; and the scalp-lock had been taken from
his head, which added to his woe-begone appearance.

We have not space to foliow the adventures of the negro
through the interim of more than three years that he dwelt
with the savages. Let it suffice that he engaged in their
wars, murdered and killed as they did, and finally exceeded
them in ferocity. His treacherous and malicious nature,
however, soon made for him foes among the Pawnees, and
he became to be regarded with distrust and hatred.

 
ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER. 247

For some offence which the chief of the nation had given
him, he waylaid him, and stabbed him to the heart, and
then made his escape to the Osages, with whom he lived
for some months; but, making an attempt to outrage the
wife of one of the famous warriors of the tribe, he was com-
pelled to flee, but was pursued by the warrior and some of
his followers; and, after a desperate battle, in which two
of the Indian warriors were killed, the negro fell from the
effect of nearly a hundred wounds, and, being supposed
dead, was scalped, and left mangled and senseless in the
wilderness.

However, Fate, for some mysterious purpose, had created
him an instrument of evil, and he did not die. After
remaining hours in an unconscious state, the negro awakened
from his death-like sleep, and, having obtained some know-
ledge of the medicinal virtues of herbs and plants during his
residence with the Indians, he searched, and was successful
in procuring what he wanted; but his wounds were severe
and numerous, and for several days he remained in a critical
state; and then, when he felt convalescing, he determined
to again return to St. Louis, where he thought many of his
former misdeeds might be forgotten. He had a fearful ex-
perience with the savages, and was not willing longer to
dwell among them.

He then sought the Missouri River, and, wandering
along its banks, succeeded in finding a canoe; and, seeing
buzzards hovering some distance from the spot, he pro-
ceeded to the place, and saw that a deer had been killed
and hung up, probably the day before, and the entrails,
which had been taken out, and had commenced to decom-
pose, had attracted the attention of the vultures.

Fortune had now befriended the negro, for he had not
only a boat to pursue his journey, but provisions also. He
took the deer, and with a sharp piece of stone cut the flesh,
as well as he could, in slips; and, placing it in the canoe,
where it might dry on his journey, he commenced to

 
248 LEGENDS.

descend the Missouri; and, after many weeks, he at last
reached St. Louis, where his appearance, so changed by
fatigue and suffering, created sympathy; and his avowed
profession to behave well for the future, served to smooth
much the acrimony of feeling which his own conduct had
engendered towards him.

Monsieur Lecompte, the master of the negro, and the
inhabitants of the village, saw a marked difference in his
conduct. It appeared that suffering and misfortune had
humanized, in a great degree, his disposition. He had
become more polite in his deportment, and appeared anxious
to conciliate the goodwill of others. This apparent change
was, however, soon discovered to be the effect of policy,
and that his malicious nature was the more dangerous when
concealed by the drapery of guile. He began to be shunned
and feared, as before ; every concealed crime was attributed
to him, and it was regretted that he had ever returned to
the village.

The negro,’ as he saw the prejudice and disfayour with
which he was regarded, threw off entirely the semblance of
goodness which he had assumed from sinister motives, and
became sullen, dogged, and impudent, as before. His
master, seeing that he was wholly incorrigible, determined
on sending him to New Orleans, where he would be sold,
and might become useful on some of the southern planta-
tions, when brought under the influence of the severe disci-
pline there prevailing, and in this manner he and the
inhabitants might be relieved of his presence. A horrible
act, however, which Isaac committed, made him amenable
to the extreme laws of justice, and shaped his destiny in
another channel.

One morning, Madame Euno, who lived at Vide Poche,
as we have before narrated, was surprised by a visit from
Isaac, who stopped at her cabin, and expressed thanks, in
his grum way, for her kindness years before, when, through
her attentions and those of her husband, he had been resus-

   

 

 

    
 

 

ISAAC, THE N&GRO MURDERER, 249

citated from an unconscious state, produced from cold and
submersion. ‘

At the sight of Isaac, Madame Euno’s former intuitive
dread of him returned upon her in full force. Her cheeks
blanched, her heart chilled, the vital fluids seemed to sus-
pend their action and stagnate in their course, and it was
only by the greatest effort she prevented herself from fall-
ing, and regained, in some degree, her composure. She
listened to the mulatto with fear and repulsion, and felt a
cold trembling pervade her frame, when she saw him look
gloatingly upon her buxom form. He was then conceiving
one of the most horrible crimes of which human nature, in
its worst phase, is capable.

After some efforts to draw Madame Euno into conversa-
tion, which proved abortive, as she was timid and nervous,
and held close to her side, as if for protection, the little girl
who lived with her, the negro departed, his brutal instincts
gleaming from his eyes, which, to the last, were hungrily
fixed upon his former benefactress. He departed, medi-
tating upon the new crime which had been born in his
bosom, and which exceeded in atrocity all that his evil
nature had ever before generated.

After the departure of the negro, Madame Euno ap-
peared still to feel the shadaw of his presence. A dark
gloom hung upon her spirits, and a heaviness was at her
heart more insupportable than grief. The little girl who
lived with her, and loved her with parental affection, as if
sensible of her depression, gambolled as playfully as a
kitten about her, and by many little innocent endearments,
so sweet and winning in childhood, endeavoured to revive
her, and to recall to her features the happy expression that
was natura] to them.

The efforts of Louise—for that was the young girl’s name
—after some time were partially successful; and, after a
copious fall of tears, Madame Euno felt somewhat relieved
from the weight of gloom, for which she could not reason-

 
   

  

250 LEGENDS,

ably account. She heard the bell of the only church then
in St. Louis tolling for vespers, and, being a devout Catholic,
she fell upon her knees, and, after crossing herself, told her
beads, kissed the little cross attached to the rosary, and,
breathing a prayer to the God of the Universe, she sallied
forth to visit her little patch of ground in the common
fields of Carondelet, telling the little girl that she would be
back before nightfal.

It was late in the afternoon when she started from her
house, and on the common fields she found that many of the
inhabitants were already returning to their homes, the work
of the day being over. She went to the portion of the
enclosure in which her arpents were situated, and, taking a
hoe, worked vigorously the crop of corn, which was grow-
ing very thriftily, until the dusk of the evening. She
looked around her, and found that she was all alone—all of
the inhabitants had departed from the common field.

With a vague sense of fear at her loneliness, Madame
Euno then threw down the implement with which she had
been working, and was then about to return to Vide Poche,
when who should she see, standing within a few feet of her,
but the man of all others she most dreaded—Isaac, the
negro.

At the sight of the negro, all of her presentiments rushed
upon her with redoubled force, and a scream rose to her
lips, but it was stifled to a groan by the hand of the negro
being applied to her mouth, who whispered in her ear his
horrible intentions, and told her that, if she would not sub-
mit to the gratification of his hellish desires, he would bury
the gleaming knife which he held in his hand, in her heart.
The woman, rendered frantic at the prospect of becoming
the victim of sueh a monster, redoubled her exertions to
scream, and in her struggles caught one of his fingers in
her mouth, and bit it severely. The negro then let drop
the knife he held in his hand, and, taking the woman in
his arms as if she had been a child, threw her upon the

 

 

 
 

 

 

ISAAC, THE NEGRO MURDERER. 251

ground, * * * He then, to conceal his crime, resolved
to destroy the only witness to his wrong—she who had
suffered from his unhallowed lust; and, unheeding her tears
and entreaties, he plunged his knife again and again in her
bosom. ‘The presentiments were prophetic of her doom.

The negro, after committing the double crime of rape
and murder, left the spot to return to St. Louis, but had
advanced only a few steps when he saw one of the inhabit-
ants of Vide Poche, who had been searching for some cattle,
returning home, and coming in his course directly to the
spot where the murder had been committed. The man
had, also, a gun upon his shoulder, which he had taken to
use in case he came across game, in his search after his
animals. This circumstance saved his life, for the first
impulse of the negro was to murder him also; but, seeing
him armed in this manner, he avoided coming in direct con-
tact with him, and hastily buried himself in a thick growth
of timber which extended to the Mississippi.

The man had observed the negro; and, seeing in the un-
certain twilight’ some object lying upon the ground, he
proceeded to the spot where Madame Euno was lying life-
less; and, after hastily examining the body, and looking
nervously around him, cocked his gun, and in a half run
made for the village.

In half an hour, more than half the inhabitants of the
little hamlet were seen wending their way to the common
field, and soon a large number of the associates and friends
of Madame Kuno were gathering about her body, lifeless,
bloody, and mangled. There was a universal feeling of
vengeance ; and, though night had set in, a party of men
at once set out in pursuit of the murderer, hoping that, by
immediately pursuing him, he would he found at his
master’s residence in St. Louis, previous to making his
escape, which it was thought that he would immediately
attempt, as he well knew that the murder would be attri-
buted to him, from the very fact of his being seen so near

 
252 LEGENDS.

the spot just about the time the dreadful deed was com-
mitted,

The pursuing party visited the house of Monsieur Le-
compte, but Isaac was not there—he had not been seen
since morning.

Zenon Trudeau, the Spanish Commandant, was at once
informed of the atrocious deed, and, though it was late at
night, a party of soldiers was ordered to watch the different
roads leading from St. Louis, that the apprehension of the
murderer would be certain; and on the next day the most
experienced hunters turned out, thinking, perhaps, that the
negro might take a westerly direction, and try to escape to
the Indians. Every portion of the surrounding country
was thoroughly examined, and all in vain; there was not a
trace of the negro.

It now becomes our province. to tell how he eluded pur-
suit. After he saw that the murder would be pinned upon
him, he bent his course to the Mississippi, and reached it by
an untravelled direction; and, so as effectually to throw off
all trace of his whereabouts, he plunged into the river, and
swam up stream until he came to what is now known as
nglish’s Cave ; and, entering this cavern, formed by nature,
he proceeded some ‘distance until he came to a spot where im-
penetrable darkness prevailed, and, groping along, he found
a deep hollow in one side of the passage, sufficiently large
to admit a man, Into this aperture, which appeared to
have been formed to suit his emergency, he crept, and,
drawing a large stone to the opening, he was effectually
concealed from any, except a most critical examination.

(For continuation of this Legend, see Part III.)