“ Fair wild-flowers crowned her tresses and her dainty little feet
Were encased in two white lilies from the great lakes pure and sweet.
Said the old man, "Ah, my daughter, I am glad to see you here.
Though my lodge is cold and cheerless, it will shield you, never fear;
But pray tell me, fearless maiden, how these icy blasts you dare
To confront in such strange clothing? Will you not the secret share?
I am old Kabibonokka, and my breath in ice congeals.
When I shake my locks, the snow falls. All the earth my power feels.
Hastily the birds fly southward and the squirrels safely hide." ”

“ When the eerie wind went chasing evil spirits through the wood,
'Neath the gaunt and leafless tree-tops, an old Indian teepee stood.
In it lived an old man only, with white locks and flowing beard,
Clad in furs from head to foot-sole, like one to the north-land reared:
Weakly his scant fire resisted the dread storm-fiend's icy breath,
And its deep, portentous rumblings spoke of swift approaching death.
Crouching there, "O Mannaboosho," cried he through the awful night,
"Here behold me, thy brave warrior. I will conquer in thy might." ”

“ Over the seething lake our pinions spread,
'Neath which our gleaming arrows thickly sped,
As shooting stars that in the rice-moon fall.
Rent by our beating wings the cloud-waves swung
In eddies round us, and our leader's roar
Smote peal on peal, and from their bases flung
The rocks that towered along the trembling shore.
A Thunder-Bird—alas, my chosen friend,
But even so a warrior's life should end,—
A Thunder-Bird was stricken; his bright beak,
Cleaving the tumult like a lightning streak,
Smote with a fiery hiss the watery plain ”

“ To counsel or to lead in peace or war,
And heal the sick by deep mysterious law.
Our beauteous warriors, lithe of limb and strong,
Fierce to avenge their own and others' wrong,
What gasping terror smites their battle song
When, night-birds gathering near the dawn of day,
Or wolves in chorus ravening for the prey,
They burst upon the sleeping Chippeway; [11]
Their women wail whose hated fingers dare
To reap the harvest of our midnight hair;
Swifter than eagles, as a panther fleet,
A hungry panther seeking for his meat,
So swift and noiseless their avenging feet. ”

“ When a warrior had a wondrous dream,
A lovely maiden came
And stood by his side—in sweetest tones,
She called him by his name.
"'I love your beautiful lakes,' said she,
'Your mountains clothed in green,
In yonder sky, shining above,
My sisters still are seen. [Pg 129]
But I have left them to come and live
Among your race, young brave:
To find a suitable home for me
Go ask your sages grave.'
"'And pray what form shall I assume
To be best loved by you?'
The youth awoke and stepped from his lodge
The ominous star to view. ”

“ While youth and maiden, starting in affright,
Believe some heavenly wight this deed hath done—
Doubtless the thunder's veritable son!
Convinced at last, the Blackfoot yields assent,
And leads the stranger to his father's tent.
On the third evening, as the shadows fall,
The hospitable chief receives them all
In his great lodge, and listens to their tale
Of the brave Sioux, whose weapon cannot fail,
But, like the thunder, with mysterious roar,
Strikes enemies unseen. ”

“ The appalling mystery of Gray Cloud's death,
Wrapped in impenetrable gloom, remained
A blighting shadow o'er the village spread.
But youthful spirits are invincible,
Nor fear nor superstition long can quell
The bubbling flow of that perennial well;
And so the youths and maidens soon regained
The wonted gayety that late had fled.
All save Winona, in whose face and mien,
Unto the careless eye, no change was seen;
But one that noted might sometimes espy
A furtive fear that shot across her eye,
As in a forest, 'thwart some bit of blue,
Darts a rare bird that shuns the hunter's view. ”

“ Ah, no! love is not always pain; [Pg 36]
For see, the folds are drawn aside,
And dimly there may be descried
A shadowy form of shadowy grace,
That halts while still in gloom arrayed,
With eyes that light the tawny face
And tresses darker than the shade.
O spell of song! O power and thrill
Of love! O dream that sways
The blood of youth, that feels no chill
Till love betrays!
O hark! ye sprites that haunt this time,—
This quiet moon-lit hour,
When Cupid weaves, in every clime,
His web of subtlest power,—
O, can ye hear, and not rejoice,
The music of a maiden's voice? ”

“ But his body plunges downward, and the young Sioux warrior's soul,
Rising upward through the ether, seeks the happy hunting ground
Just as anxious friends and kindred gather hastily around,
Dropping tears unto his memory and with slow and measured tread,
Bear away the bold young chieftain, to the mansions of the dead.
Fear the falls of Winnewissa sweetly wooing to repose
With its murmurous plash of waters perfume-laden of the rose,
'Neath the soil which once his kindred claimed and lived in until we
Rising eastward like a storm-cloud, swept the land from sea to sea. ”

“ By the willow-fringed island they cruise, by the grassy hills green to their summits;
By the lofty bluffs hooded with oaks that darken the deep with their shadows;
And bright in the sun gleam the strokes of the oars in the hands of the women.
With the band went Winona. The oar plied the maid with the skill of a hunter.
They tarried a time on the shore of Remníca—the Lake of the Mountains. [47]
There the fleet hunters followed the deer, and the thorny pahin for the women. ”

“ The peace-pipe's lusty wreath?
And where the hawk-like eye, alas!
That wont the deer pursue,
Along the waves of rippling grass,
Or fields that shone with dew?
Are these the limber, bounding feet
That swept the winter's snows?
What stateliest stag so fast and fleet?
Their speed outstripped the roe's!
These arms, that then the steady bow
Could supple from its pride,
How stark and helpless hang they now
Adown the stiffened side! [Pg 98]
Yet weal to him—at peace he stays
Where never fall the snows;
Where o'er the meadows springs the maize
That mortal never sows. ”

“ Came in all his youthful vigor, with his band of stalwart braves,
From the land of the Dakotas; zealously his spirit craves
To lead them all in bravery as he oft before has led,
And the plumes of the war eagle proudly waving on his head,
To wear in boastful triumph on the far-famed treacherous height,
And in his tribe's traditions, thus his envied name to write.
Fearlessly he stands a moment on the overhanging edge
Of the nearest cliff's high summit, eyes the small and slippery ledge
Just beyond the yawning chasm which his daring feet must leap ”

“ From the far-off Rocky Mountains, [Pg 88]
From the Northern lakes and rivers
All the tribes beheld the signal,
Saw the distant smoke ascending,
The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe.
And the Prophets of the nations
Said: "Behold it, the Pukwana!
By this signal from afar off,
Bending like a wand of willow,
Waving like a hand that beckons,
Gitche Manito, the mighty,
Calls the tribes of men together,
Calls the warriors to his council!" ”

“ All mingle with her low love song.
Her voice is all that's wild and sweet,
And slow must be that warrior's feet
Who would not speed with all his heart
To see her red lips meet and part.
Love moves her with his golden sway—
A young and stalwart Chippewa
Has gained her heart, and kindred ties [Pg 24]
And tribal feuds her love defies.
What cares she that her people hate
And his give back without abate?
What cares she that he is not Sioux?
If he but keep his promise true!
She sings an old song, passion-laden
By many a dead Dahkota maiden:
O where is my lodge—my love? ”

“ Here the flapping of his pinions brought the fierce, hot lightning's glare,
Glazing all the fissured surface like enamel smooth and fair;
Melting all the red rock's substance till a foot-print of the bird,
Plastic then, took form and hardened for a witness of the word.
[Pg 82]
Falls of Winnewissa.
[Pg 83]
Northward, just beyond the quarry, stands the famous "Leaping Rock,"
With its proud head reared to heaven, with an air that seems to mock
And to set at stern defiance, boastful braves who seek for fame,
And from agile feats to gather for themselves an envied name. ”

“ Aha, thou shudderest; in thy tense veins,
Fierce and rebellious, leaps the mingling blood
Of countless warriors, high of soul and brave;
And would'st thou quench their spirit 'neath the wave? [Pg 67]
Is Gray Cloud's life more dear to thee than thine?
The village sleeps, unguarded is his tent,
Thy knife is keen, and unto thee is lent
A spell to-night of potency malign.
Cradled in blissful dreams alone he lies,
And he shall stray so deep in sleep's dominions,
He would not waken though the rushing pinions
Of his own Thunder-Bird should shake the sky. ”

“ Again the youthful hunter rides away;
And, when the sun mounts half way up the sky,
Her lover meets the Blackfoot maiden's eye.
Archly she greets him—"Laggard! why so late?
He whom you seek is gone—he could not wait!"
"But you—you told him not," the youth replies,
"Of my first visit!" In each other's eyes
They look and laugh; and in that laughter free
Dissolves the ancient, tribal enmity! [Pg 17]
The wooing of an Indian is but brief.
He tells his tale, "My father was a chief—
These eighteen years in yonder heaven he dwells." ”

“ From its name—Minnesota—to its floral emblem—the moccasin flower—the State everywhere bears the impress of former occupation. About every lake, forest, and valley clings the aroma of romance in the form of name or legend of the vanished Red Man. ”

“ A right to woman not allowed—
But from her people, where she sat,
With meekness due, stepped out and grasped
The staff Guteba had released,
Thus arrogating to herself
The right of oracle.
She said:
"I was thy dead chief's handmaid, Friends.
Twelve months agone, I was with him
Upon the battle-field alone.
The Sioux were all around us; their
Faces war-red painted; their cries
Of vengeance filling all the air.
He to his saddle caught me up.
The Great Spirit strengthened his arm;
The lightning whet his ax; the wind
Speeded his pony's hoofs. ”

“ Than life in Gray Cloud's tent, but what could she
Against the stern, implacable decree
Of one whose will was never known to yield?
Winona fled, scarce knowing where or how;
Fled like a phantom through the moonlight cool,
Until she stood upon the rocky brow
That overlooked a deep sequestered pool,
Where slumbering in a grove-encircled bay
Lake Minnetonka's purest waters lay.
Unto the brink she rushed, but faltered there—
Life to the young is sweet ”

“ His teepee to illume.
O come, my chief! I watch—I wait!
I give up all for thee;
If thou wilt have an alien mate,
Wenonah longs that one to be,
That she may share thy fate.
Come quickly, love, but make no sound,
My people are thy foes,
If thou shouldst here by them be found
A warrior's death thy life would close,
Thy soul be skyward bound. ”

“ Is it the wind that swings apart
The deerskin door from the lodge away?
Is it a sudden leap of his heart
That makes too vivid fancy play?
Or is it a nut-brown arm that holds
The trembling folds,
And are those liquid eyes that shine
Like diamonds fine?
Sing on, sing on, bold youth,
And hope shall lead thee to the truth!
She is lovelier than the sky,
Sweeter than the freshest bud,
I can no longer wait and sigh
Here in the moonlight flood;
All my heart is at her feet,
All my strength at her behest;
O sing, and bid her come to greet
The one who loves her best! ”

“ A burly warrior, standing by,
Strode forward, and, with murderous look,
His tomahawk before her shook,
And fiercely said: "I am Two Bear;
Great chief am I! 'Tis sweet to tear
The craven hearts and drink the blood
Of Two Bear's foes; a big red flood
Shall flow from coward Sioux, this morn [Pg 168]
Their scalps Ojibway spears adorn.
Why have you kept us waiting here?
Behold, the sun will soon appear,
The hour is late, the good time flies,
And vengeance still unsated cries! ”

“ Slowly, the signs all tribes of Indians know—
"I do not speak your language."
"Is it so?
Where is your husband?" asks our hero young,
In this same silent, yet most graphic tongue.
"I am the daughter of a Blackfoot chief,
Whose home is three days' journey north. In brief,
My brother is a hunter. I am here
To keep his lodge, while he pursues the deer." ”

“ Have been chiseled on the ledges at the ancient bowlders' base,
Who, like strangers in the valley, drifted to a resting place.
Here, ere Manitou had given to the tribes the pipe of peace,
Saw he mighty war and bloodshed, saw the tribes of men decrease,
Until fleeing from destruction, come three maidens to the rocks—
The last remnant of all women, hiding from the fearful shocks [Pg 81]
Of the deadly fight and carnage which was raging through the air,
Driven to these three large bowlders, as a refuge in despair. ”

“ Yet on—with tattered shoes and blistering feet—
To find the savage foe he longs to meet!
At last, to wearied eyes that search in vain,
The far-off meeting-place of sky and plain,
A fleck of dazzling whiteness doth appear.
The youth exclaims, "My enemy is near!"
Toward that white gleam his cautious steps are bent,
Surely some roving Blackfoot's lonely tent.
Nearer and nearer creeps, with cat-like tread,
The watchful Sioux. Above his lowered head
The plumy grasses rear a swaying crest ”