Western Scenes and Reminiscences Part 11

Chemanitou now took no pleasure in his work that was done--it was not good in his sight.

He wished he had not given it hands; might it not, when trusted with life, might it not begin to create? might it not thwart the plans of the master of life himself!

He looked long at the image. He saw what it would do when life should be given it. He knew all things.

He now put fire in the image: but fire is not life.

He put fire within, and a red glow pa.s.sed through and through it. The fire dried the clay of which it was made, and gave the image an exceedingly fierce aspect. It shone through the scales upon the breast, and the gills, and the bat-winged ears. The lobster eyes were like a living coal.

Chemanitou opened the side of the image, _but he did not enter_. He had given it hands and a chin.

It could smile like the manittoes themselves.

He made it walk all about the island of Metowac, that he might see how it would act. This he did by means of his will.

He now put a little life into it, but he did not take out the fire.

Chemanitou saw the aspect of the creature would be very terrible, and yet that he could smile in such a manner that he ceased to be ugly. He thought much upon these things. He felt it would not be best to let such a creature live; a creature made up mostly from the beasts of the field, but with hands of power, a chin lifting the head upward, and lips holding all things within themselves.

While he thought upon these things, he took the image in his hands and cast it into the cave.

_But Chemanitou forgot to take out the life!_

The creature lay a long time in the cave and did not stir, for his fall was very great. He lay amongst the old creations that had been thrown in there without life.

Now when a long time had pa.s.sed Chemanitou heard a great noise in the cave. He looked in and saw the image sitting there, and he was trying to put together the old broken things that had been cast in as of no value.

Chemanitou gathered together a vast heap of stones and sand, for large rocks are not to be had upon the island, and stopped the mouth of the cave. Many days pa.s.sed and the noise grew louder within the cave. The earth shook, and hot smoke came from the ground. The Manittoes crowded to Metowac to see what was the matter.

Chemanitou came also, for he remembered the image he had cast in there, and forgotten to take away the life.

Suddenly there was a great rising of the stones and sand--the sky grew black with wind and dust. Fire played about the ground, and water gushed high into the air.

All the Manittoes fled with fear; and the image came forth with a great noise and most terrible to behold. His life had grown strong within him, for the fire had made it very fierce.

Everything fled before him and cried--MACHINITO--MACHINITO--which means a G.o.d, but an evil G.o.d!

The above legend is gathered from the traditions of Iagou, the great Indian narrator, who seems to have dipped deeper into philosophy than most of his compeers. The aboriginal language abounds with stories related by this remarkable personage, which we hope to bring before the public at some future time. Whether subsequent events justify the Indian in making Long Island the arena of the production of Machinito or the Evil Spirit, will seem more than apocryphal to a white resident. However we have nothing to do except to relate the fact as it was related.

As to these primitive metaphysics, they are at least curious; and the coolness with which the fact is a.s.sumed that the origin of evil was accidental in the process of developing a perfect humanity, would, at an earlier day, have been quite appalling to the schoolmen.

E. O. S.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] Literally, little men, who vanish.

REPOSE OF THE SOUL.

When an Indian corpse is put in a coffin, among the tribes of the Lake-Algonquins, the lid is _tied_ down, and not nailed. On depositing it in the grave, the rope or string is loosed, and the weight of the earth alone relied on, to keep it in a fixed position. The reason they give for this, is, that the soul may have free egress from the body.

Over the top of the grave a covering of cedar bark is put, to shed the rain. This is roof-shaped and the whole structure looks, slightly, like a house in miniature. It has gable ends. Through one of these, being the head, an aperture is cut. On asking a Chippewa why this was done, he replied,--"To allow the soul to pa.s.s out, and in."

"I thought," I replied, "that you believed that the soul went up from the body at the time of death, to a land of happiness. How, then, can it remain in the body?"

"There are two souls," replied the Indian philosopher.

"How can this be? my friend."

"It is easily explained," said he.

"You know that, in dreams, we pa.s.s over wide countries, and see hills and lakes and mountains, and many scenes, which pa.s.s before our eyes, and affect us. Yet, at the same time, our bodies do not stir, and there is a soul left with the body,--else it would be dead. So, you perceive, it must be another soul that accompanies us."

This conversation took place, in the Indian country. I knew the Indian very well, and had noticed the practice, not general now, on the frontiers, of _tying_ the coffin-lid, in burials. It is at the orifice in the bark sheeting mentioned, that the portion of food, consecrated in feasts for the dead, is set. It could not but happen, that the food should be eaten by the hystrix, wolf, or some other animal, known to prowl at night; nor that, Indian superst.i.tion, ever ready to turn slight appearances of this kind to account, should attribute its abstraction to the spirit of the deceased.

THE LITTLE SPIRIT, OR BOY-MAN,

AN ODJIBWA FAIRY TALE.

WRITTEN OUT FROM THE VERBAL NARRATIVE BY THE LATE MRS. H. R.

SCHOOLCRAFT.

There was once a little boy, remarkable for the smallness of his stature. He was living alone with his sister older than himself. They were orphans, they lived in a beautiful spot on the Lake sh.o.r.e; many large rocks were scattered around their habitation. The boy never grew larger as he advanced in years. One day, in winter, he asked his sister to make him a ball to play with along sh.o.r.e on the clear ice. She made one for him, but cautioned him not to go too far.--Off he went in high glee, throwing his ball before him, and running after it at full speed; and he went as fast as his ball. At last his ball flew to a great distance: he followed it as fast as he could. After he had run for some time, he saw four dark substances on the ice straight before him. When he came up to the spot he was surprised to see four large, tall men lying on the ice, spearing fish. When he went up to them, the nearest looked up and in turn was surprised to see such a diminutive being, and turning to his brothers, he said, "Tia! look! see what a little fellow is here." After they had all looked a moment, they resumed their position, covered their heads, intent in searching for fish. The boy thought to himself, they imagine me too insignificant for common courtesy, because they are tall and large; I shall teach them notwithstanding, that I am not to be treated so lightly. After they were covered up the boy saw they had each a large trout lying beside them. He slyly took the one nearest him, and placing his fingers in the gills, and tossing his ball before him, ran off at full speed. When the man to whom the fish belonged looked up, he saw his trout sliding away as if of itself, at a great rate--the boy being so small he was not distinguished from the fish. He addressed his brothers and said, "See how that tiny boy has stolen my fish; what a shame it is he should do so." The boy reached home, and told his sister to go out and get the fish he had brought home. She exclaimed, "where could you have got it? I hope you have not stolen it." "O no," he replied, "I found it on the ice." "How"

persisted the sister, "could you have got it there?"--"No matter," said the boy, "go and cook it." He disdained to answer her again, but thought he would one day show her how to appreciate him. She went to the place he left it, and there indeed she found a monstrous trout. She did as she was bid, and cooked it for that day's consumption. Next morning he went off again as at first. When he came near the large men, who fished every day, he threw his ball with such force that it rolled into the ice-hole of the man of whom he had stolen the day before. As he happened to raise himself at the time, the boy said, "Neejee, pray hand me my ball." "No indeed," answered the man, "I shall not," and thrust the ball under the ice. The boy took hold of his arm and broke it in two in a moment, and threw him to one side, and picked up his ball, which had bounded back from under the ice, and tossed it as usual before him. Outstripping it in speed, he got home and remained within till the next morning. The man whose arm he had broken hallooed out to his brothers, and told them his case, and deplored his fate. They hurried to their brother, and as loud as they could roar threatened vengeance on the morrow, knowing the boy's speed that they could not overtake him, and he was near out of sight; yet he heard their threats and awaited their coming in perfect indifference. The four brothers the next morning prepared to take their revenge. Their old mother begged them not to go--"Better" said she "that one only should suffer, than that all should perish, for he must be a monedo, or he could not perform such feats." But her sons would not listen; and taking their wounded brother along, started for the boy's lodge, having learnt that he lived at the place of rocks. The boy's sister thought she heard the noise of snow-shoes on the crusted snow at a distance advancing. She saw the large, tall men coming straight to their lodge, or rather cave, for they lived in a large rock. She ran in with great fear, and told her brother the fact. He said, "Why do you mind them? give me something to eat." "How can you think of eating at such a time," she replied,--"Do as I request you, and be quick." She then gave him his dish, which was a large _mis-qua-dace_ sh.e.l.l, and he commenced eating. Just then the men came to the door, and were about lifting the curtain placed there, when the boy-man turned his dish upside-down, and immediately the door was closed with a stone; the men tried hard with their clubs to crack it; at length they succeeded in making a slight opening. When one of them peeped in with one eye, the boy-man shot his arrow into his eye and brain, and he dropped down dead.

The others, not knowing what had happened their brother, did the same, and all fell in like manner; their curiosity was so great to see what the boy was about. So they all shared the same fate. After they were killed the boy-man told his sister to go out and see them. She opened the door, but feared they were not dead, and entered back again hastily, and told her fears to her brother. He went out and hacked them in small pieces, saying, "henceforth let no man be larger than you are now." So men became of the present size. When spring came on, the boy-man said to his sister, "Make me a new set of arrows and bow." She obeyed, as he never did any thing himself of a nature that required manual labour, though he provided for their sustenance. After she made them, she again cautioned him not to shoot into the lake; but regardless of all admonition, he, on purpose, shot his arrow into the lake, and waded some distance till he got into deep water, and paddled about for his arrow, so as to attract the attention of his sister. She came in haste to the sh.o.r.e, calling him to return, but instead of minding her he called out, "Ma-mis-quon-je-gun-a, be-nau-wa-con-zhe-shin," that is, "_you_, of the _red fins_ come and swallow me." Immediately that monstrous fish came and swallowed him; and seeing his sister standing on the sh.o.r.e in despair, he hallooed out to her, "Me-zush-ke-zin-ance." She wondered what he meant. But on reflection she thought it must be an old mockesin.

She accordingly tied the old mockesin to a string, and fastened it to a tree. The fish said to the boy-man, under water, "What is that floating?" the boy-man said to the fish, "Go, take hold of it, swallow it as fast as you can." The fish darted towards the old shoe, and swallowed it. The boy-man laughed in himself, but said nothing, till the fish was fairly caught; he then took hold of the line and began to pull himself and fish to sh.o.r.e. The sister, who was watching, was surprised to see so large a fish; and hauling it ash.o.r.e she took her knife and commenced cutting it open. When she heard her brother's voice inside of the fish, saying, "Make haste and release me from this nasty place," his sister was in such haste that she almost hit his head with her knife; but succeeded in making an opening large enough for her brother to get out. When he was fairly out, he told his sister to cut up the fish and dry it, as it would last a long time for their sustenance, and said to her, never, never more to doubt his ability in any way. So ends the story.

AING.o.dON AND NAYWADAHA.

STORY OF A FAMILY OF NADOWAS, OR PEOPLE OF THE SIX NATIONS OF TORONTO, CONSISTING OF SIX BROTHERS, THEIR YOUNGEST SISTER, AND TWO AUNTS.

THEIR FATHER AND MOTHER HAVING DIED, THEY WERE LEFT ORPHANS, THEIR ORIGIN, HOWEVER, WAS FROM THE FIRST CLa.s.s OF CHIEFTAINS IN THEIR NATION.

NARRATED FROM THE ORAL RELATION OF NABANOI, BY MR. GEORGE JOHNSTON.

In the days of this story, wars, murders, and cruelty existed in the country now comprising the province of Upper Canada, or that portion bordering upon Lakes Simcoe, Erie, and Ontario, which was claimed and belonged to the powerful tribe of the eight nations of the Nawtoways.

The young men had, on a day, started for a hunting excursion: in the evening five only of the brothers returned, one was missing. Upon search being made the body was found, and it appeared evident that he had been killed: this gave a great blow to the family, but particularly causing great affliction to the sister, who was the youngest of the family. She mourned and lamented her brother's death, and she wept incessantly.