They sleep forgotten by all.
Shall they have no revenge?
Shall we not plant the stake, and bind the fair-one?
The beautiful maid, with her hair like bunches of grapes,
And her eyes like the blue sky,
And her skin white as the blossoms of the forest-tree,
And her voice as the music of a little stream?
Shall she not be torn with sharp thorns,
And burned in fiery flames?
He ceased singing, and listened, but the Evil Spirit answered not. Just as he was going to begin another song, they saw a large ball rolling very fast up the hill towards the spot where they stood. It was the height of a man. When it came up to them it began to unwind itself slowly until at last a little strange-looking man crept out of the ball, which was made of his own hair. He was no higher than my shoulders. One of his feet made a strange track, the like of which the Indians had never seen before. His face was as black as the shell of the butter-nut, or the feathers of the raven, and his eyes as green as grass. And stranger yet was his hair, for it was of the colour of moss, and so long that, as the wind blew it out, it seemed the tail of a fiery star. There he stood, grinning and laughing very loud. "What do you want of me?" he asked Sketupah.
The priest answered, "The Shawanos want revenge. They want to sacrifice the beautiful daughter of the sun, whom the Mad Buffalo has brought from the camp of the Walkullas."
"They shall have their wish," said the Evil Spirit. "She shall be sacrificed. Go and fetch her to the hill."
Then the Old Eagle, and the chiefs and warriors, went to fetch the beautiful maiden to the hill of sacrifice. They found her sitting in her cabin, with the chief warrior watching at her door. He would have fought for her, and had already raised his spear to strike the foremost warrior, when Chenos commanded him to be still; "for," said he, "my master will see that she does not suffer. Before the star of day sets in the Mighty River, the nation of Shawanos shall see whose god is greatest and strongest—Sketupah's, or mine."
Then they built the fire, fixed the stake, and bound the beautiful woman to it. Till now the head warrior had stood still, for he looked that the priest of the Great Spirit should snatch her away from the Evil One. But when he saw her bound to the stake, and the flames beginning to arise, he shouted his war-cry, and rushed upon the priest of the Spirit of Evil. It was in vain; Sketupah's master did but breathe upon the face of the stern warrior, when he fell as though he had stricken him with a blow, and never breathed more. The Evil Spirit then commanded them to seize Chenos.
Then they seized the priest of the Master of Breath, to bind him for the flames. But Chenos shouted aloud, "Come, Master of Life, for the hands of the Evil One are upon me. Come, break my bands, and redeem me from the flames they have kindled for me."
As soon as he had said this, very far over the tall hills, which Indians call the Backbone of the Great Spirit, the people saw two great lights, brighter and larger than stars, moving very fast towards the lands of the Shawanos. One was just as high as the other, and they were both as high as the goat-sucker flies before a thunderstorm. At first they were close together, but as they came nearer they grew wider apart. Soon our people saw, by their twinkling, that they were two eyes, and in a little while the body of a great man, whose head nearly reached the sky(9), came after them. Brothers, the eyes of the Great Spirit always go before him, and hence nothing is hid from his sight. Brothers, I cannot describe the Master of Life as he stood before the warriors of our nation. Can you look steadily on the star of the morning? No. Nor could you look upon the mighty being whom the voice of Chenos in distress had called from beyond the River of Rivers. When you tried to do so, you were dazzled with his brightness, and turned away your eyes to look upon trees and streams.
When the Evil Spirit saw the Spirit of Good coming, he began to grow in stature, and continued swelling until he was as tall and big as he. When the Spirit of Good came near, and saw how the Evil Spirit had grown, and that he had thrown away the calumet of peace, he stopped, and, looking very angrily at the Evil Spirit, said, with a voice that shook the very hills, "You lied."
"I did not," answered the Evil Spirit.
"You did. You promised to stay among the white people, and the nations towards the rising sun, and not trouble my Indian people any more."
"Ay, ay," answered the Evil Spirit, "but this woman came from my country; she is white, she is mine. I came for her."
"You came to destroy her; do I not find her bound to a stake, and the flames kindled to destroy her? Nor was she yours, for I gave her for a wife to the warrior whom you have killed."
"I must have her," said the Spirit of Evil saucily.
"When your strength grows to be greater than mine, and your eyes see farther, and your spirit waxes stronger, and your heart fuller of justice and valour, then you may say must. Tell me no more lies, bad Manitou, lest I punish you. Go back to the nations of the East, and see you trouble my brave Indians no more."
The cowardly spirit made no answer, but shrunk down to the size he was of when he first came to our people. Then he began as before to roll himself up into his own hair, which he soon did, and then rolled away as he came into the hollow hill. When he was gone, the Great Spirit also shrunk till he was no larger than a Shawano, and began talking to our people in a soft and sweet voice:—
"Men of the Shawanos nation, I love you, and have always loved you. I bade you conquer your enemies, I gave your foes into your hands. I sent great herds of fat deer, and many bears and mooses, to your hunting-grounds, and made my suns so shine upon your fields, that your corn grew up like trees. Who lived so well, who fought so bravely, as the Shawanos? Whose women bore so many sons as yours? Is not the Suwany a lovely river? Are not the young sprouts of the oak, and the heart of the ash which grow upon its banks, the stoutest and the toughest in all the land for bows? The grass grows high, the water is cold and sweet, is it not a pleasant land? It is, and the Shawanos have been a favoured, and a happy people.
"Why did you disturb the sacrifice which the Walkullas were offering to me at the feast of green corn? Why did you fall upon them when they had laid down their weapons, and wiped off their paints to dance in my name? You even slew the priest who offered me the offering. I was angry, and gave your warriors into the hands of their enemies, only I let the head warrior escape to tell you the fate of your young men.
"Men of the Shawanos nation! The strange people, who came over the Salt Lake on the great bird, are your brothers. Though they are white, and you are red, though their hair is of the colour of the setting sun, and yours is as black as charred wood, yet you are brothers. I made you all, and I made you all alike. The Shawanos are red, because fear never enters their hearts to scare the blood from their cheeks: the heart of the white man is the heart of a bird; it is chilled with fear, therefore he is pale. I brought the Shawanos from the land of white men; then he was white, but living among bears, and snakes, and tigers, and bloody-minded warriors, has made him strong in heart, and he has lost his paleness.
"My good Shawanos! The Walkullas and their allies, from over the Great Lake, killed many of your warriors, and have thinned your nation, but I will give you other and stronger men. You have now but three tribes—soon there shall be four, and the fourth shall be great and powerful beyond all other Indians.
"Shawanos, hear my words and forget them not; do as I bid you, and you shall see my power and my goodness. Offer no further violence to the white maiden, but treat her very kindly. If you do not so, then shall my anger be upon your nation, and you shall fall by the hands of women, and wild beasts, and the lightnings of my breath.
"Go now, and rake up the ashes of the sacrifice-fire into a heap, putting all the coals together, and gathering up the brands. When the great star of evening rises, open the ashes, put in the body of the Mad Buffalo, lay on much wood, and kindle a fire in it. Let all the nation be called together, for all must assist in laying wood upon the fire. But they must put on no pine, nor the tree which bears white flowers, nor the grape-vine which yields no fruit, nor the shrub whose dew blisters the flesh. The fire must be kept burning