Traditions of the North American Indians (Vol. 1-3). James Athearn Jones

duties, than that adopted by the "faculty" of the Western Wilderness.

      (3) Rum.

      That the Indians were made drunk by Hendrick Hudson, at his first interview with them, seems well settled. A tradition also prevails among the Iroquois, that a scene of intoxication occurred with a party of the natives on the arrival of the first ship in their waters.

      The same tradition prevailed among the tribe named in the tale. See also the tradition of The Coming of Miquon in the second volume.

      THE RESURRECTION OF THE BISON.

       Table of Contents

      The men of my nation, the Minnitarees, believed that the bones of the bison, which they had slain and divested of their flesh, rose again, clothed with renewed flesh, and quickened with life, and became fat and fit for slaughter in the succeeding hot month. To us it appeared incomprehensible that thousands should be slaughtered every year by the many tribes of red men that roam over the country of the bisons, yet that they should increase yearly. When we asked our priests about this, they replied that they did not die, but rose again from the plains and the prairies, the same in flesh and form as when they were slaughtered and stripped by us. For a long time, very few of us believed the words of the priests, they had lied to us so often.

      Once upon a time a party of the people of our nation, who were out upon a hunting-excursion, lost one of their number, a boy, and returned to the village lamenting his loss. Believing him to have been killed or taken prisoner by the cruel Sioux, with whom they were then at war, and who had been seen prowling about their village they assembled a war-party, and set out to avenge his death. They had marched a weary way, and were just entering the country of the Sioux, when they espied a herd of bisons, one of which they succeeded in killing. Guess their astonishment, when, on opening the belly of the animal, they found the long-lost boy, alive, well, sleek, and hearty, after having been imprisoned there one entire year. Relieved from his captivity in the belly of the bison, the boy told us how it happened.

      He said that when he left his hunting, companions, he proceeded onward a considerable distance in search of game, till he found a bison, which he was so fortunate as to kill. He removed the flesh from one side of the animal, but had not time to remove that from the other side, when night came on, and a great rain set in. Finding that he could not reach his village that night, and it being in the middle of a prairie, where no bark or branches could be had with which to form a hut, he was for some time at a loss to know what he should do to avoid the pelting of the storm which raged in the skies. At last, he bethought himself of a method, which was, to remove the entrails from the bison, and creep into the hollow space: he did so. But, during the night, and while he slept, the flesh of the bison that he had cut off grew over the side again. In the morning when he awoke he found himself in darkness. For many nights there was no motion of the animal. At last the various intestines and viscera began to grow. He felt from time to time with his hands to learn their increase, rightly judging that, when they had arrived at full size, the animal would return to life. That period at length arrived. His residence began to grow warm, at first moderately so, but increasing in heat till respiration became difficult. At length he began to feel with his hand a pulsation in the heart of the animal, and to hear the sound of wind in its veins, its arteries, and its intestines. Soon he found himself rocking about as a canoe is tossed on the waves of the great water; and then he knew the animal had returned to the full enjoyment of life.

      THE WAHCONDA'S SON.

       Table of Contents

      Brothers, I am an Otto, and a chief. I am a man of courage and truth. I have been a warrior, and a hunter of the bear and wolf ever since the great meeting of aged counsellors and brave-warriors pronounced me a man. I never fled from a foe; and none ever saw me afraid. Who will say that the Guard of the Red Arrows was ever other than a man in his heart? When the Padoucas bound him to the stake, and kindled fires around him;—when they thrust sharp, heated stones into his flesh, and tore off his nails with fiery pincers, did they force a cry from him? did they see his cheek wear the badge of a woman's weakness? No, I am a man. Brother, I will tell you a tale. While the nation of the Ottoes had their hunting-grounds in the shade of the Mountains of the Great Being, they were led in war to battle—in peace were advised in council by a brave and warlike chief, who was called Wasabajinga, or the Little Black Bear. He was the head chief of the nation, and its greatest warrior. His martial exploits and daring deeds were the theme of all the tribes who roamed through the vast woods between the Mississippi and the Mountains of the Setting Sun, the Missouri, and the Lake of the Woods. All had heard of his great deeds; and many had seen and felt his prowess. He was stronger than the bear, he was swifter than the deer, he was nimbler than the mountain-cat or the panther. Who was so expert at stealing horses(1) as Wasabajinga?—by his cabin-door stood the best in all the land; and they had belonged to the Konzas, the Pawnees, the Omawhaws, the Puncas, the Sioux, and other tribes whose eyes were sharp and arrows long, but neither so sharp nor so long as those of the Otto warrior. He had entered alone the camp of the Missouries, at the time when the stars are the sole torches of night, and had brought thence many scalps; he had crept to the lodge of an Arrowauk, and taken the beloved maiden. He had struck dead bodies(2) of all the nations around—Osages, Padoucas, Bald-heads, Ietans, Sauxs, Foxes, and Ioways. And who had such eyes for the trail and the chase as he? He could show you where the snake had crawled through the hazel leaves; he could trace the buck by his nipping of the young buds; he could spring to the top of the tallest pine with the ease of the squirrel, and from thence point out unerringly where lay the hunting-lodges and grounds of all the tribes of the land; he could endure as much fasting as the land-tortoise, or the bear of the frozen north, and march as long as the eagle could fly; never hungry till food was placed before him; never tired when there was more glory to be won. Strong, healthy and nimble, Wasabajinga lived to learn that there was no one in the wilds able to cope with him in battle, and to have his wisdom as loudly applauded as his valour.

      At home it was the good fortune of this famous chief to be equally prosperous and happy. He had nine wives, all beautiful as the path of the Master of Life³²—all good and amiable. Though they all lived in the same cabin(3), ate out of the same bowl, warmed themselves at the same fire, and slept' on the same skins, there was a fair sky among them—it never thundered and lightened in the cabin of the Otto warrior. One nursed another's child as kindly as if it were her own; one performed the field-tasks allotted to another, who in return prepared the bison meat for the fire, and drew home the fuel from the woods. There was peace, and the calmness of a summer day, in the cabin of Wasabajinga—he lived the happiest of his nation.

      His children were many—ten sons were in their father's cabin; each could bend his father's bow, each poise his father's spear, and each wield his father's war-club. Daughters he had but one, who grew up the most beautiful of all the maidens of the land. She had a skin much whiter than that of Indian maidens generally; her teeth were white and even; her hair long, black, and glossy, as the feathers of the raven; her eyes mild as the dove's in the season of its mating; and her step was that of a deer who is scared a little. And she was good as she was beautiful. No one ever saw her cross or sulky like other women; nothing made her angry. Though she was beloved by her parents, and a great favourite with all the wives of her father, yet she never claimed exemption from the duties which belong to Indian females. Willingly would her little hands have laid hold of the faggot, and her small feet have travelled forth with her mother to the labours of the field of maize; but the fond affection of all around her, and their belief that she was something more than mortal, protected her from a call to share in their labours. She was allowed no part in the cutting-up of the bison; she was not permitted to pound the corn, or winnow the wild rice, or bring firing from the woods. It was the pride of the youthful part of the tribe to prepare ornaments for her person. The young maidens (for she was envied by none) wove wampum, and made beads for her; the young men passed half their time in hunting the red and blue heron for the gay tuft upon his crown, and the Spirit Bird for his train of yellow, green, and scarlet,