University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.

It was in the summer of 183-, that a large party of
Chippeways visited Fort Snelling. There was peace between
them and the Sioux. Their time was passed in
feasting and carousing; their canoes together flew over the
waters of the Mississippi. The young Sioux warriors
found strange beauty in the oval faces of the Chippeway
girls; and the Chippeways discovered (what was actually
the case) that the women of the Dahcotahs were far more
graceful than those of their own nation.

But as the time of the departure of the Chippeways
approached, many a Chippeway maiden wept when she
remembered how soon she would bid adieu to all her hopes
of happiness. And Flying Shadow was saddest of them all.
She would gladly have given up everything for her lover.
What were home and friends to her who loved with all the
devotion of a heart untrammeled by forms, fresh from the
hand of nature? She listened to his flute in the still evening,
as if her spirit would forsake her when she heard it no
more. She would sit with him on the bluff which hung
over the Mississippi, and envy the very waters which would
remain near him, when she was far away. But her lover

loved his nation even more than he did her; and though he
would have died to have saved her from sorrow, yet he
knew she could never be his wife. Even were he to marry
her, her life would ever be in danger. A Chippeway could
not long find a home among the Dahcotahs.

The Track-maker bitterly regretted that they had ever
met, when he saw her grief at the prospect of parting.
“Let us go,” he said, “to the Falls, where I will tell you
the story you asked me.”

The Track-maker entered the canoe first, and the girl
followed; and so pleasant was the task of paddling her lover
over the quiet waters, that it seemed but a moment before
they were in sight of the torrent.

“It was there,” said the Sioux, “that Wenona and her
child found their graves. Her husband, accompanied by
some other Dahcotahs, had gone some distance above the
falls to hunt. While there, he fell in love with a young girl
whom he thought more beautiful than his wife. Wenona
knew that she must no longer hope to be loved as she had
been.

“The Dahcotahs killed much game, and then broke up
their camp and started for their homes. When they reached
the falls, the women got ready to carry their canoes and
baggage round.

“But Wenona was going on a longer journey. She would
not live when her husband loved her no more, and, putting
her son in her canoe, she soon reached the island that divides
the falls.

“Then she put on all her ornaments, as if she were a
bride; she dressed her boy too, as a Dahcotah warrior; she
turned to look once more at her husband, who was helping

his second wife to put the things she was to carry, on her
back.

“Soon her husband called to her; she did not answer him,
but placed her child high up in the canoe, so that his father
could see him, and getting in herself she paddled towards
the rapids.

“Her husband saw that Unk-tahe would destroy her, and
he called to her to come ashore. But he might have called
to the roaring waters as well, and they would have heeded
him as soon as she.

“Still he ran along the shore with his arms uplifted, entreating
her to come ashore.

“Wenona continued her course towards the rapids—her
voice was heard above the waters as she sang her death
song. Soon the mother and child were seen no more—the
waters covered them.

“But her spirit wanders near this place. An elk and fawn
are often seen, and we know they are Wenona and her
child.”

“Do you love me as Wenona loved?” continued the
Sioux, as he met the looks of the young girl bent upon
him.

“I will not live when I see you no more,” she replied.
“As the flowers die when the winter's cold falls upon them,
so will my spirit depart when I no longer listen to your
voice. But when I go to the land of spirits I shall be happy.
My spirit will return to earth; but it will be always near
you.”

Little didst thou dream that the fate of Wenona would
be less sad than thine. She found the death she sought, in
the waters whose bosom opened to receive her. But thou

wilt bid adieu to earth in the midst of the battle—in the
very presence of him, for whose love thou wouldst venture
all. Thy spirit will flee trembling from the shrieks of
the dying mother, the suffering child. Death will come to
thee as a terror, not as a refuge.