Blue Earth County, Minnesota - Chapter 2: Indian Legends Oe the Blue Eaeth, 1901

Chapter 2: Indian Legends Oe the Blue Eaeth

The art of the story teller was well developed and much in vogue among our Sioux Indians. The frequent feasts and the long winters, when the people were confined to their wigwams, stimulated greatly the growth of this kind of entertainment. A good story teller was ever in gj'eat demand and in high honor and this encouraged the cultivation of his talent. Very few of these Indian tales have been saved, but the few we have show how rich the treasure must have been. The country of the Blue Earth was ever a favorite haunt of the red man. Its abundant fruits and game, its varied and charming scenery and, because of these, its many memories of a happy and hoary past, all tended to make it rich in legendary lore. Only a few of these wild tales from the wigwam have I been able to glean. The shades of oblivion had long buried the great bulk of them in the ashes of the Sisseton camp fires, cold now on the banks of the Mahkato for many a year. The first story I shall give was originally translated into a civilized tongue by an old French voyager and is entitled:

The Haunted A'Alley

A few miles south of Mankato there is a beautiful valley located in the angular piece 01 land formed by the confluence of the Watonwan and Blue Earth rivers. Its romantic position and beautiful scenery impart to it an indescribable loveliness. It nestles mid lofty hills covered with sturdy oaks, "'Monarchs of the Forest," which shade it from the summer's heat, and shelter it from the wintry blasts. In its center a transparent lake mirrors the beauty of its wooded banks, almost everywhere heavily festooned with vines of the Wahoo and wild grape. A small sparkling stream, the outlet of the lake.

gently meanders through lovely groves, until it reaches and is lost ia the turbid waters of the Watonwan. Springs of the purest water gush licre and there from the hillsides.

The Indians told of dark deeds done in this valley and dared not go near it, as tradition said no one had ever returned ahve who had dared to enter its enchanted bounds. Spirits of warriors clothed in bodies of mangled flesh and covered with ghastly, gaping wounds were seen by those belated in the chase, who happened inadvertently to pass by its dreaded boundaries, and many a warrior told of hearing awful and unearthly moans and shrieks from those, who had entered it against the will of the great spirit, while huge specters of smoke and lurid flame were seen to issue from it.

War Eagle was a young and mighty chief of the Sissetons, who dwelt ia the rich country at the great bend of the Minnesota, by the mouth of the Blue Earth. In the chase and on many a battle field he had disting-uished himself far above all the mighty men of his tribe, for he was powerful of body and stout of heart. In the great councils of his nation, his manly form towered a head taller than all the great warriors and his advice never went unheeded. He was indeed, the idol of his tribe. All sang his jiraises and many a maiden had cast longing eyes at him and many a dusky mamma had schemed and planned ia vain to catch him for her daughter. He, however, was of a melanclioly disposition and would not wed. He was fond of wandering alone in meditation, and the solitude of the forest was his favorite haunt. Here his keen eye and quick brain had acquainted him with all the secrets of nature. He reveled in her beauty and rejoiced in her mysteries.

ing where he was until in its midst. Captivated by its beauty, he dismissed every superstitious fear, and concluded to make this vale his place of refuge from those who were trying to force him to wed a girl he did not love. Many a day he spent in this delightful spot, musing alone in its peaceful solitude.

One day a young brave came breathless into the village which lay near the confines of this valley with the startling intelligence that a war party of their dreaded foes the Chippeways were camped on the plateau near the mouth of the Blue Earth. The village which but a few moments before, was the very picture of tranquility was suddenly transformed to the wildest commotion. The women and children ran hither and thither in a panic of fear. The men hastily decked themselves for war, and hurried to the council lodge. Soon a band of chosen warriors issued forth led by War Eagle, their trusted chief, who was anxious to avenge the death of a very dear friend, who but a fortnight before had been waylaid and killed by some prowling Chippeways, while hunting in the valleys of the Little Waraju, or Cottonwood river.

The warlike expedition was not long in reaching the neighborhood of their deadly enemies. Crawling stealthily up through the bushes which skirted the sides of the table land on which their foes were encamped they got within a few rods of their tepees. They soon discovered that they outnumbered the Chippeways more than four to one. In view of this fact, and of the further reason, that it was hardly yet past the hour of noon, it was determined to attack at once and not wait for a daybreak surprise, after the usual mode of Indian warfare. It was a dtsperate fight. The Chippeways were all tried warriors, and dearly did each brave sell his life on that bloody field.

One Chippeway chief at last only remained, but though all his friends had fallen, he still stood lilfe a rock in front of his wigwam, holding alone the whole Sioux tribe at bay. The slain lay about him in heaps, but his great strength and courage seemed yet unabated. At last a crowd of Sioux warriors made a rush upon him and although half of them fell beneath his mighty blows, still, by their overv/helming numbers, they were on the point of wrenching his scalp from his head, when War Eagle who had watched with admiration the - chief's splendid valor and had been won by it, rushed in between him and his foes and compelled his brother Sioux to desist.

As the Chippeway chief arose it was to witness some of the Sioux dragging from his wigwam his only daughter, a beautiful maiden of tender years, for whose life and honor he had fought so desperately that day. Turning, however, to his noble benefactor he committed his daughter to his care, and with stately tread walked into the neighboring woods and disappeared.

The Sioux warriors glared like wolves at his retreating form and were greatly chagrined and displeased to have their foe thus escape, but none dared openly to oppose the will of War Eagle. But their hearts were ugly toward him, and as they mourned in the scalp dance their many friends and relatives slain, it made them foel still uglier.

War Eagle took the captured Chippeway maiden in accordance with her father's request as his portion of the booty, and the famous young chief, who had rejected all the fair daughters of his own tribe, was at once smitten by the great beauty and charming ways of this alien girl. He brought to her the choicest game of the forest, and waited upon her as upon a princess. His affections met with a hearty response on the part of the maiden and they were very happy together.

The treatment War Eagle gave the maid, so different from that due a slave, still further aroused the jealousy and hatred of his tribe, and in a secret council it was determined that the beautiful young Chippeway must die. The plot was to assassinate her while her lover was away on a hunt, but War Eagle returned much sooner than was expected, and just in time to save his fair bride from the cruel hands of the savage executioners. Quickly burying his tomahawk in the skulls of four of them, he seized his beautiful wife and fled with her to the enchanted valley, near whose dread border no pursi.er or avenger of blood dared venture. Here for many moons they lived most happily together. The forest game had here, also, found an asylum and was much more abundant than elsewhere. So the young brave and his fair bride did not lack for food.

One day, however, War Eagle pursued a deer some distance into the forest beyond the confines of his valley, and being discovered by his foes, an ambush was quickly made for him, and he v.'as smitten by a shower of arrows, two of which pierced his heart. He fell with a shriek, which reached the ears of his young bride, and in a few moments she was by his side, but it was too late to bid his manly soul adieu, he had gone to the happy hunting grounds. Bending over liis majestic form - majestic even in death - she drew from its sheath his sharp hunting knife and, plunging it into her own fair bosom, she fell dead upon the body of her noble lover.

The next story I shall give is partly at least historical - the scene being laid since the founding of Fort Snelling, and the principal characters were well known personages, some four score years ago. Indeed the entire tale may be the romance of a real life, for the true story of many a life is stranger than fiction. The tale may be entitled :

The Devoted Father

About the beginning of the last century there lived at the mouth of the Blue Earth a noted Indian chief, named Ahkitchetah-dutah. His village was among the principal ones belonging to the powerful Sisseton tribes, who called themselves the Miakechakesa and who inhabited the country at the great bend of the Minnesota, and the valleys of the Blue Earth.

Ahkitchetah-dutah was possessed of very strong affections, and these were bestowed upon a maiden of his tribe, who was distinguished hy her comeliness of person and sweetness of mind. His young wife, however, died when their only child was an infant. This great sorrow ever after clouded the life of the chief and he never remarried. His whole soul was now wrapped up in his only son, Mahzah Kootay. The child grew into young manhood, and became a leader among the young braves of his \illage. In the summer of 1819 Mazah Kootay, accompanied by a number of other young braves, went out upon the plains to hunt buffalo. Wlien in the vicinity of where Council Bluffs now stands, they fell in with some designing traders, who sold them liquor. In some drunken brawl our young brave and another young Indian shot and killed one of the United States soldiers, and then fled home to the valley of the ]\Iinnesota.

The government at once demanded the surrender of the murderers from the Indians and withheld the payment of all annuities to them until the demand was complied with. At last upon the ad\ice of Colin Campbell the trader, the Sissetons decided in a council held at Big Stone Lake, that the two }oung men, who admitted th(5ir guilt, should surrender themselves to the government for trial. Accordingly Mahza Kootay and his companion, attended by a number of their friends and relations, repaired to Fort Snelling to comply with the decision of the council.

Ahkitchetah-dutah, the aged father, was overwhelmed with grief and went with the party determined to offer himself as a substitute for his son. ^\'hen within a mile of the fort the party halted, and the old chief and the two young brakes painted themselves black, stuck splinters of wood through their arms at the elbows to show their contempt of pain, had their hands fastened with thongs of buffalo hide, sang their death dirge, and, bidding their companions farewell, marched into the . fort on November 12th, 1820, flying a British flag, which was given them in the late war. Col. Snelling, who was in command of the fort, had a fire built ui the middle of the parade grounds, and the British flag publicly burned with due ceremony. The earnest appeal of the old chief to be substituted in place of his son, however, was rejected by the officer, but he was held for some time as a hostage, while the two young men were sent under military escort to St. Louis for trial. Here they were detained in prison for some months, but no witness being

While on his way home, however, he happened to run across the path of the deadliest enemy a Sioux Indian could meet, in the person of the old Indian fighter, John Moredock. Many years before, when Moredock was a young man, all his folks had been butchered with all the horrors of Indian cruelty by a party of Sioux Indians, as they were coming up the Mississippi river in a flat boat. Crazed to desperation by this awful deed, John Moredock sv?ore a terrible vengeance upon the whole Sioux nation. Not satisfied with killing all the murderers, he made it the business of his life to kill every Sioux he could find. An unerring n^arksman, and the most desperate fighter in all the west, he was for years the terror of all the Sioux tribes.

Mazah-Kootay was coming through a piece of timber when he met the old hunter. In a raoment each man was behind a tree and watching his opportunity. Moredock put his hat on tJie end of his ramrod and reached it out just a little, when instantly Mazah Kootay put a ball through it, and Moredock fell with it as though killed. The Indian rushed up immediately to scalp his victim, when he suddenly arose and shot him dead, and Moredock added one more scalp to the scores he already carried. Ignorant of his true fate, Ahkitchetah-dutah looked in vain for the return of his son. The whites assured him that his son had been, released by them, but the old chief would not believe them; he was firmly persuaded the pale faces had killed him and his grief was pitiable. "When Major Long explored the Minnesota river in 1820 he did not dare visit the mouth of the Blue Earth, because of the disaffection of the Indians there, due to the sorrow of their chief. The chief finding his grief unbearable devoted himself to death, after the Indian fashion, and lived alone, away from his tribe, in the hope someone would kill him, but the wild beasts avoided him, and the scalp hunting Chippeways fled from him.

One day a band of twenty young braves of his tribe was formed to go to the famous pipestone quarry. The country was known to be infested by prowling bands of the Saques and Foxes, who had long been at enmity with the Sioux. Ahkitchetah-dutah went with this band and on the journey hung behind in the hope he might be killed, but to no avail, for no enemy appeared. Having reached on their homeward journey a valley of the Watonwan, about four miles above its confluence with the Blue Earth, they camped for the night. As they were so near home their usual vigilence was relaxed. At day break next morning they were awakened Ijy a volley of bullets, and five of the Sioux fell dead. This was Ahkitchetah-dutah's .opportunity and, seizing his arms, he rushed forth to meet the charge of the enemy alone and slew four of them before he himself fell, riddled with bullets. This sudden and desperate act of the old chief disconcerted the Saques and Poxes in their charge, and gave the _ Sioux a chance to rally and to drive their enemy back. The Sioux then dug rifle pits with their tomahawks and knives and thus entrenched fought heroically, and finally beat off the Saques and Foxes, vvho outnumbered them three to one, but who had been disheartened by the desperate valor of Ahkitchetah-dutah.

We are apt to thinlc of the Indian as only a blood thirsty savage delighting in the torture of his enemy, or girdled with gorey human scalps, indulging in the horrid rites of the war dance. He hardly ever appears on the stage of our national history, save in the role of some terrible massacre. Then the last and most impressive view the early pioneers usually have of the Indian is with scalping knife and tomahawk, killing the women and children along the frontier.

There is no question, but that the Indian, like all savages, was prone to follow the warpath and that his methods of warfare were sliockingly bloody and cruel. Our red man was, however, possessed of many noble virtues and some high ideals, and it is partly because they reveal this better side of his character, that I insert these glimpses of his home life. It will be noted that like most tales of the wild, each has a tragic note.

The Death Dirge Of A Dakota Maiden

Hapan was a beautiful Dakota maiden, the belle of lier tribe who lived at the mouth of the Mahkato river. Many had been the suitors for her hand, but she disdained to notice any of them, except young Chaskay, a valiant young brave. He was a splendid specimen of physical manhood, tall, straight as an arrow, and a perfect athlete. His quick piercing eye, high forehead and classic face betokened the highest intelligence and, though he was but a youth, liis fame already as an orator and wise advisor was great in the councils of his tribe. None swifter than he in the chase, none more skillful than he in the great ball games, none stronger or braver than he on the warpath. Chaskay and Hapan had been lovers from their childhood and were never happy save when together. But a great war party had left the village two weeks before to go against the Chippeways, to avenge the blood of a number of relatives and friends, had been waylaid and murdered while hunting beyond Swan Lake by a skulking band of this ancient foe. With this party had gone young Chaskay as its head war chief. Tender had been tlie parting between him and Hapan, and it was with a mingled feeling of dread apprehension and loving pride the maiden had watched her lover's departure on that fateful morning. At the head of the long column of noble warriors he had marched with stately mien down the beautiful valley of the Minnesota. But the week before, the remnant of this strong band of warriors had returned, most of them covered with ghastly wounds. Our warriors approach having been discovered by some of the enemy's scouts, an ambush had been made for them by an overwhelming force of the Chippeways.

Terrible had been the struggle and awful the carnage. With desperate valor Chaskay had fought and it was not before he had laid low many of his enemies, that he was finally overpowered and slain. The awful news pierced Hapan's heart like an arrow and for several clays she brooded over the melancholy event in sullen silent agony. But one morning the slumbering village, which nestled in the low land near the mouth of the Mahkato was startled by the sad, plaintive notes of her death song. Upon the top of a tall oak, which topped a rockjpi-ecipice just back of the village, she sat decked in all her bridal garments. The words of her death dirge were these:

As slie finished her song she east herself down from the dizzy height upon the stones below, and her soul sped to join her lover in the happy spirit land.

The last of tliese Indian tales which were in any way connected with our county is a folk lore story. It was translated into English at the instance of the Sioux Missionary, Dr. Wilhamson, by one of his converted Indians and preserves many of the Dakota idioms.

The Legend Of No Soul

Once on a time there lived in the valley of the Minnesota a father who had twelve sons. In front of the lodge grew a number of fine oak trees, while just beside it there gushed from the foot of the bluff a beautiful spring of water, which the cold of winter or the summer's drouth never efiected. It was a charming spot, slieltered from every storm, and the luxuriant verdure of summer v:as always fresh and decked with such a profusion of flowers that the eye of the beholder was fascinated. But Wishwee, the oldest son, wa.?, not satisfied with the hunting grounds of his fathers' and concluded to go out into the world to seek his fortune. So he came to his father and said : '"Father, I am tired of viewing always the same scenes and wish to go out into the world and se-e other nations and other lands, that I might know how they prosper. Wilt thou give me the beautiful black horse that thou didst receive from the great chief of the West for my journey i*" To this the father answered, "My son, tJiou hast ever been very dear to me and since thou hast decided to travel into distant lands thou mayest take the beautiful black horse, but remember this if thou desirest him to go very fast or carry, thee over any obstacle in the road never strike him more than once and he will never fail thee." To which the son replied, words, dear father, make me glad, and 1 shall heed thy advice. As long as yonder spring is clear thou wilt know that I am alive, but if its limpid waters shall become troubled and muddy then thou wilt mourn me as dead."

It was a glorious morning in the moon of the corn planting, when Wishwee started on his journey mounted on the beautiful black horse. As he was leaving the wigwam door his father handed him two bottles of wine, which his old grandmother had made from the juice of the wild grapes she had picked in the far off haunted valley. After he had traveled a long way, beyond the farthest point ever reached by the buffalo hunters of his tribe, he came to a large path called the "Difficult Way," and at once determined to see what was at the ottier end of it. As he journeyed along this road he came suddenly to a rocky precipice, which lay straight across his path. Remembering what his father had said, he gave his horse only one cut with the whip, and he scaled the perpendicular height with a bound and stood on the other side. Here he espied an old woman, who just then was cleaning some deer skins beside Ler lodge. As he was passing, she called to him and said, "My grand child, though thou be on a journey and in haste, come into my wigwam and partake of a little food and then pass on." "Yes, grandmother," answered Wishwee, "I am very glad of thy invitation, for I am very hungry." So he alighted from his horse and supped with her. When he was about to depart, the old woman asked him "Whither art thou going, my grandchild?" Wishwee answered, "Grandmother I have grown up without seeing other lands, and other people, and now I go out into the world to seek my fortune." Whereupon she replied, "Well hast thou done.

my gTandchild, but this road thou hast taken ii3 well named the 'Difficult Way,' so be wise, my son, and heed the advice thou shalt receive on thy journey." So Wishwee proceeded on his way. After he had gone some distance he came suddenly to a great slough, so vast, he could not see across it, and so miry, a waterfowl could not wade in it. Along the edge of this slough were strewn thick the bones of horses and their riders, who had attempted to pass through it. It was called the We We Tanka, The Bad Swamp. Wishwee paused for a time perplexed, but finding no way to pass around this terrible slough, he headed his horse straight for its midst, and gave him one blow with his whip. Swift as the wind, with mighty bounds that scarce touched the surface once, the noble animal carried his rider safely over the impassable swamp. On the farther side our traveler found an old man, who called to him to pause a few minutes and sup at his lodge. After they had eaten together the young man said to his host, "Grandfather, thou hast made me very happy by inviting me to dine with thee. Wilt thou not partake of a drop of this wine I have?" and he handed him one of the bottles his father had given him. After the old man had drank tv/ice of the wine, he became very talkative, and he told the young man all his secrets. "My fron," said he, "When thou goest hence thou wilt soon come to the Hill Beautiful. From the moment that comest in sight hasten thy horse with all speed and beware that thou dost not stop or look behind thee until thou hast reached the summit for if thou tarriest or lookest behind thee a single instant before arriving on the summit, then thou will surely die, but after the highest point is attained, thou mayest check thy speed and look behind."

Thus spake the old man and the young man again proceeded on his way. After some time the top of the Hill Beautiful loomed up in the distance. The moment Wishwee saw it he gave his horse one cut with his whip and sped along the road like the- wind. Soon he heard someone coming behind and tempting him to look back, but he remembered the old man's advice and hurried on faster than ever. Then the tempter began to taunt and tease him saying,

"See this young man is blind in one eye. Look, one of his legs is shorter than the other. His mouth, too, is twisted." Though greatly exasperated by these words the young man checked himself and pressed on with the utmost speed with his eye fixed on the top of the hill straight before him. Gaining tire summit at last he reined in his horse and looked behind. There in the road panting for breath stood the largest and most fierce mountain lion he had ever seen. Almost dead with running the lion came and lay down near Wishwee and said: "Young man, thou art very wise and brave, and hast arrived at the top of Hill Beautiful without looking back, and thereby thou hast overcome me, and henceforth I am at thy service. On the road thou are traveling there is another hill called the High Hill.

"AATien it comes in sight beware that thou dost not look behind before reaching its summit, for the moment thou dost, thou shall surely die, but when thou hast come to the top thou mayest look behind.''

The young man had not gone very far when in the distance he perceived the top of the High Hill. Immediately he gave liis horse one cut M'ith his whip and he darted forward like an arrow, but soon again from behind came the shouts of someone following making all manner of noise, and calling him all manner of names to induce him to look back, but he had a firm purpose and heeded not the voice of his pursuer. When the top of the mountain was reached a monster white wolf, the fiercest Wisliwce had ever seen, came panting and lay down by his side saying: "Thou hast conquered me, and henceforth my powers are thy powers." IForeover the Big Wolf said: "Before thou reachest the place which thou art going to another mountain must be passed called the "Last Mountain," when it comes in sight then hurry on as fast as thy horse can carry thee, but beware on the penalty of thy life that thou doest not look behind, until the summit is reached." So the young man pressed forward on his journey. He had not gone far before the top of Last Mountain came into sight and quickly he struck his liorse one blow with his whip and off he flew lilce a fla-sh of lightning. Soon he heard some one following close behind him again, calling to him to stop and look at the wonderful things in his rear. Becoming desperate, his pursuer taunted him as being a coward, but Wishwee was fixed in his purpose, and no blandishment, curiosity or fear could turn him aside until the top of the mountain 's\'as reached, when a great eagle fell at his feet exhausted crying, "Thou hast gained tlie victory over me, henceforth my powers are thy powers." Furthermore the great eagle said, "^Mien thou hast gone hence on thy A\-ay thou \\-ilt come to a large town called the 'A'illage of Weeping.' In that town somethings Avill befall thee. At tlie entrance of the village lives an old woman and thou must go to her teepee and it will be told thee what has befallen the town."

After journeying some distance the young man arrived at the Big Village. The inhabitants of which neither laugh or make merry, and the faces of all are painted black. For a time Wishwee paused at the entrance of the village gazing in amazement at its sad appearance, then noticing an old woman standing by the door of lier wigwam nearby he approached her and inquired, "Grandmother, why is it that in til is great village everybody looks so sorrowful?"' "My son," answered the old woman, "Art tliou a mere stranger and has not heard of the terrible thing which has happened here? 1'he chief of this village has four fair daughters, but yesterday about noon one who is called 'Xo Soul' made a sudden raid upon this place and carried away two of the maidens. It is on this account that the people are all so sad."

"Grandmother," asked the young man, "did'st til on see this No Soul?" "Yes, my son," replied the old woman, "he has the form of a very gi-eat grizzley bear. From the time the world was made no one has been able to kill this bear, and indeed he can not be killed, and hence he is called No Soul." "Where doth he live?" cp.eried the young man. "He lives." said the old woman, "a long, ways from here in a- big ii:ountain. He said moreover, that in six days he would return and carry off the chiefs other two daughters. Wherefore the chief is very much alarmed and has said to his people, whoever kills No Soul, shall have both my remain-

When the young man heard this his heart was stirred within him, and he asked the old woman to take good care of his horse as he must go and see the chief. He found the old chief stretched upon the floor of his teepee, sorely lamenting the fate of his daughters. Wishwee told him not to weep and that he would see him again in twelve days. The young man then immediately departed in quest of the mountain where No Soul lived. Arriving there he found a v^ry large cave, standing at its mouth he called : "No Soul, have mercy upon me, I have come to see your house which I hear is finely constructed." Whereupon a very large and fierce looking bear came rushing out and with a growl like the rumble of distant thunder he said : "Wonderful this ; no one dared ever before to come near my house and such an example will I make of thee that no one will ever venture here again.''

"Stay a moment No Soul," said Wishwee, "I understand you are fond of wine. I have some very choice vintage with me. Ere we engage in combat let us drink a little to make our hearts strong," and he offered to No Soul hif; second bottle of wine. The monster swallowed it all at one gulp, but no sooner had he done so than he began to be very communicative and he revealed the secret of his life and said : "If I should be killed and ripped open a fox would leap out, and if the fox should be killed and ripped open a bird would fly out, and if the bird be killed and ripped open, a very fine white egg would be foiind, and if that should be taken up yonder to the brow of that high precipice, a door will be found entering into a vast golden chamber, where my real self dwells, and should I there be smitten on the bi-east with the eg?, then would I die."

Then Wishwee challenged No Soul to a combat and he became very furious, but the young man called to the great mountain lion, whom he had met on the Hill Beautiful, and immediately he was transformed into the great lion and fought with No Soul and overcame him and with his powerful claws he ripped him open. Immediately a fox leaped out and disappeared in the brush, but Wishwee called upon the big white wolf of the High Hill, and he was at once changed to his form and pursued the fox and overtaking him slew him. When he had ripped open the fox, a bird suddenly flew out and disappeared quickly among the trees. Wishwee then called to his aid the great eagle of the Last Hill and immediately v/as transformed into his shape. Sweeping down on his strong pinions be soon captured the bird, and ripping it open found the smooth white egg.

Taking the egg he mounted to the brow of the high clifE and found the entrance to the home of No Soul. Inside he found the monster stretched upon the floor of his golden chamber in much distress and smote him at once upon the breast with the white egg. No Soul immediately rolled over dead. Hearing a moaning noise in a distant recess of the cave, he followed it, and there bound and shut into a dark hole he found the chief's two daughters still alive, reserved for a great feast No Soul expected to hold that very night. The joy of the maidens at their unexpected deliverance was Fiost affecting. Bearing them one at a time on his eagle wings, our hero descended to the foot of the high cliff and thereupon assumed his own form.

Boundless was the rejoicing at the old chief's -pillage when Wishwee arrived with the rescued maidens. In accordance with his jKomise the chief offered the young man his four daughters for his wives, and they were all yery beautiful, but Wishwee said he only wanted the youngest, Wehakay, for she far excelled the other tliree, and the hearts of the two young people had been united from the first. When the marriage festivities, which were most joyous and elaborate were over, Wishwee returned home with his beautiful bride to the lovely valley of the Minnesota, to the pleasant hunting gfound cf his fathers, where among their many descendants the memory of Wishwee's bravery and Wehakay's charms will never be forgotten.