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 Early 
 
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 ays. 
 
 
 Oh, early days of solitude, 
 
 Where Love subject to Nature's mood, 
 Awoke to life, 'mid Eden bloom, 
 
 And blissful sought no other doom. 
 Where life by intuition grew. 
 
 Nor past, nor future, cared or knew, 
 Just beings floating on Life's stream, 
 
 A blissful, careless, drawn-out dream. 
 
 By the Author. 
 
 By 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 
 Published by 
 
 Mayhew Publishing Co., 
 
 Boston, Mass. 
 

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 Copyright, 1905, 
 
 by 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 
2 PREFACE. 
 
 ^ In writing these poems of the Indians' legends, 
 
 "^ the writer had in mind the saving of their "Folk 
 
 ^ Lore," sayings which have proved to be very 
 
 ^ accurate, as any one can know who cares to watch 
 
 ^ and investigate their signs and sayings. 
 
 As the centuries pass, and merge into the ever 
 present now, the past like the swirling streak of 
 white in the wake of a vessel, grows dim and 
 full of mystery as the years speed by. Still to 
 the deep thinker, it is a chart, or log book, (when 
 once it is solved,) full of instructions, to guide 
 them away from the reefs and shoals, that other 
 lives have found along the narrow straits of life's 
 sea. The joys of the past are joys of the present, 
 the sorrows, the voices of prophets, warning of 
 danger. 
 
 SAVE THE FOLK LORE. 
 
 Let us garner them all, and keep them safe as 
 among our choicest relics of a past and van- 
 quished race, a race whose walk and talk with 
 
nature, made them sages of wisdom, whose percep- 
 tion of right and truth, bore heroes more chival- 
 rous, to duty and honor, than the proudest knight 
 of the old world. 
 
 These "Indian Legends," were given to the 
 writer by her grandmother, who lived near one 
 of the Indian villages of the Six Nations, and 
 spoke their language. 
 
 Jasper Parrish, (a grandsire) was a missionary 
 and trader among the six tribes, and during his 
 sojourn among them he so endeared himself to 
 all, they named him Sen-ne-oc-ta-wa, meaning 
 "Good Man," and ever after his descendants 
 had only to say that name and every care and 
 kindness was cheerfully given them that the 
 Indians were able to bestow. 
 
 The Legends of the "Oneidas," "The Lost 
 Arrow," "Skaneateles," and "Pocahontas," are 
 given as the grandmother used to tell them, 
 though for the sake of rhyme, and rhythm they 
 have been lengthened or shortened as the case 
 might seem to need. 
 
 The finding of the little white boy in an eagle's 
 nest (a French child it was afterwards learned) 
 by a chief, and its adoption into his own family, 
 
and who in after years became chief himself, 
 has been verified, by one called Indian John, a 
 medicine man of the tribe of Onondagas. The 
 lightning's crashing through the rocks and leav- 
 ing a peculiar shaped red stone in front of the 
 captives, who at the intervention of what seemed 
 Providence, were set at hberty and thus saved 
 from torture and death, counted the stone and 
 storm, the agents of God's will to secure their 
 release. This stone, it has been said, is still 
 preserved as a sacred memento of their once 
 powerful nation, the remnant of which, migrated 
 many years ago to the then far West (Wisconsin) 
 where they still live, having accepted the true 
 Christian faith. 
 
 THE STONE. 
 
 The writer has learned from the resident mission- 
 ary, that they have a stone which they venerate 
 as the real stone given them by the " Great Spirit " 
 as a token of special regard. Whether it is the 
 one Sen-ne-oc-ta-wa (Jasper Parrish,) spoke of, 
 the writer does not know, but certain it is there 
 are many sayings, and legends, of the early 
 inhabitants of America, which outrival in purity 
 of morals, in love and passion, those of the "Old 
 Countries." 
 
 With the best wish for the happiness for all who 
 
read my humble ejffort, I cast my book upon the 
 literary sea, trusting it will bring a balm to some 
 heart who is sighing for better and more of this 
 world's goods, and bring to their minds a tender 
 thought for those who lost their homes and lives, 
 that we might enjoy, a home and far better com- 
 forts in the best land of freedom the sun ever 
 shone upon, bought by the sacrifice of other lives. 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 
POCAHONTAS OR MA-TO-A-KA. 
 
 THE INDIAN PRINCESS. 
 
 Come gentle spirits of the dim old past, 
 Let's hold communion sweet and fast. 
 Tell me of days of the long ago, 
 When life did wake to ebb and flow, 
 In fierce wild struggles love and hate, 
 That turned in hours a nation's fate. 
 
 Through thoughts, my song inspired by thee, 
 
 I tread a world of forestry 
 
 Where men as yet uncultured roam, 
 
 And call this wilderness a home. 
 
 Proud is his bearing, true his word, 
 
 For Nature taught him all he heard. 
 
 Moved by the elemental force around. 
 He learns to know each weird sound. 
 And through this knowing stoic grows. 
 Fashioned by these he timely knows, 
 A being trending to the perfect end. 
 Where God for him life's veil shall rend. 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And teach him why these things did be, 
 Why this wild Hfe unfettered free 
 Did wake again in symmetry. 
 A jewel wrought in mystery, 
 Set in a crown of brilliant light, 
 Where error fled when life was right. 
 
 Now every plane of life in man, 
 Had its own joys as God did plan, 
 Its sorrows too, which were akin 
 To those we find in cultured learning; 
 Where men awake at knowledge shrine. 
 To grasp the light of spirit mind. 
 
 Huddled together in clans or flocks, 
 Beneath the trees, beneath the rocks, 
 Man drew his substance from the sun. 
 Brought forth from earth when all was done. 
 Fashioned by an Omnipotent hand. 
 Centuries agone all God had planned. 
 
 Among such scenes, by life force fanned, 
 God placed some one born to command. 
 Whose life should light far as it went, 
 The minds and work for which 'twas sent, 
 That man, poor child of circumstance. 
 Through Wisdom's light should have a chance. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 A progress chance from night to day, 
 Through every plane of hfe to stray, 
 His dimly conscious soul to make, 
 A thirst for intellect, to wake, 
 To teach all things, future and past, 
 When he should wake a man at last. 
 
 Now every plane had mystery, 
 
 And every epoch Legendary, 
 
 A life of passion, love and hate. 
 
 That turned the trend of mortal's fate 
 
 Into strange channels they ne'er sought. 
 
 Some times for good, some mischief wrought. 
 
 Amid such scenes near Nature's heart. 
 Where brute and man each shared a part, 
 Lived Pow-ha-tan, a wiley king. 
 Crafty and cunning as anything. 
 Eloquent and bold as instinct taught. 
 He swayed all councils as he thought. 
 
 A mighty chief among his kind, 
 A warrior brave with massive mind. 
 His word was law, none dare deny, 
 Unless they wished themselves to die. 
 For traitorhood was crucial test. 
 For punishment to hold the rest. 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 His wealth was fabulous and grand, 
 For tithes were brought on every hand, 
 Rare gems uncut, and nuggets of gold 
 Were hidden away in a cavern old, 
 With treasures picked up on the sea-shore. 
 Where ships went down to sail no more. 
 
 He had lands for miles on every side. 
 Where beast and bird could come and hide; 
 To his teepee home his heart was tied. 
 His wife, his sons, his daughters, his pride, 
 The one he loved best to romp and play 
 Was the youngest, Ma-to-a-ka. 
 
 Po-ca-hon-tas or Ma-to-a-ka, 
 
 Saw a ship wrecked on the rocks one day. 
 
 And she called them all to the sea-shore there 
 
 To see the dead with their faces fair. 
 
 A plague-stricken crew stark in death. 
 
 Thrown on the rocks by the wind's wild breath, 
 
 That drove the ship without living crew. 
 To that strange, wild land they never knew. 
 They gaze on the faces so strangely pale. 
 But the stony glare tell them no tale 
 Of who or how they came to be there. 
 Tossed on the rocks by the wild, fierce air. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 They gathered the spoils on the sea-shore, 
 And they talked of the dead still more, 
 Who could they be ? from whence did they come ? 
 Pow-ha-tan said they are braves from the sun; 
 For rumors had told of a strange, pale race, 
 Beyond where sun did wash its face. 
 
 When it rose to light old ocean's disc. 
 With all the light that rushed so brisk, 
 High o'er the fleecy cloud-capped sky 
 When shadows fled and night did die. 
 They sure are Gods of battles old, 
 From out the land of richest gold. 
 
 We'll make their grave mound high and wide. 
 Here on the rocks by ocean's side, 
 Where eagles scream, and sea-dogs wail, 
 Shall be their death-song, with the gale. 
 The sun shall kiss it with its light 
 The moon and stars watch it by night. 
 
 Now all of hfe's mystery is told, 
 Of that bright land of sunlight old. 
 'Tis the Great Spirit's happy home, 
 Where all the hunters love to roam; 
 For game is plenty and want is done, 
 The home of stars, of moon and sun. 
 
 5 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 We'll feast our father, the orb of day, 
 For he has cleared the mystery away. 
 And showed us where on our mother's breast 
 He lays his head when he goes to rest. 
 Where with a torch he lights the moon, 
 The stars that twinkle out so soon. 
 
 Po-ca-hon-tas was a thoughtful child, 
 
 Loving, true, winsome and mild; 
 
 Free as the birds in forest dell. 
 
 She had strange thoughts, she could not tell. 
 
 And like her father she swayed for good 
 
 All savage moods of animalhood. 
 
 She heard all that Pow-ha-tan said, 
 And in his face his thoughts she read. 
 Knew when she could approach the king 
 To ask him for some childish thing; 
 Or when 'twas best to steal away 
 From anger that his heart did sway. 
 
 She loved her home, she loved the trees. 
 The stars and moon she nightly sees, 
 But the great Sun, her father taught, 
 Was He who all this beauty wrought. 
 Like to His home beyond the wave. 
 Where gathered all the warriors brave. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Thus from now her thoughts went straying, 
 O'er the sea with sunbeams playing, 
 And she peopled in her mind. 
 Pale-face maids divinely kind. 
 Pale-face braves of honor true, 
 Brave and kingly, this she knew. 
 
 And the sea more charming grew. 
 
 The break of day, the sunlight too, 
 
 The moon-lit bridge o'er ocean vast. 
 
 The crested waves that rolled so fast. 
 
 These brought to her strange thoughts and wild, 
 
 A yearning wish beyond a child. 
 
 Thus years did pass and dusky maid, 
 More thoughtful grew, more womanly staid. 
 She sat at councils with the chief. 
 Argued with Sachems on her belief; 
 Asked all the whys of racely lore. 
 Hungered and thirsted still for more. 
 
 But when her soul more fuel lacked, 
 
 There came into her life a fact. 
 
 As if some spirit heard her plea. 
 
 And sent her wish from o'er the sea. 
 
 A vessel came, a white- winged bird 
 
 With pale-face braves, her prayer is heard. 
 
 7 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Belated hope! Long- wished- for Hght, 
 Borne on the wings of ocean's might, 
 Shall yield its fruit thro' coming years, 
 Though sown in joys, tho' sown in tears. 
 And all of Ufe's ingratitude 
 Shall measure find in some life crude. 
 
 * Hons-ta-ma-tha, one of the crew. 
 
 Had heard wild tales of gold that grew 
 
 In forest fastness by the sea. 
 
 In a world full of mystery; 
 
 Vast fortunes opportunity did hold 
 
 For him who loved adventure bold. 
 
 And so he planned with active zest. 
 
 How he this gold from earth could wrest. 
 
 Worked and planned how to embark. 
 
 But all his plans end in the dark. 
 
 Until a confidential mate 
 
 Gives him the funds and shares his fate. 
 
 He knew that danger, a mighty band. 
 Lurked in the path on every hand. 
 Treachery and cunning deceit. 
 In crafty redman, he must meet; 
 Reptiles and animals ever alert, 
 Watched o'er the realm to kill and hurt. 
 
 * Indian name for John Smith. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Still he had much of danger known, 
 He sowed the wind and reaped his own, 
 And dared the dangers of the main 
 In hopes to win the shining gain; 
 He with his friends, a trusted few. 
 Who like himself sought riches too. 
 
 Should opposition dare oppose 
 To bring around him many foes, 
 He takes with him a host of things, 
 Cloth of bright weave, trinkets and rings 
 To please their fancy, pave the way 
 For future plots and crafty play. 
 
 Thus man does hold himself ahead 
 Of all the beasts he ever read; 
 But tell me do the stronger sons 
 Show pity to the weaker ones? 
 Or do they secret watch and plan. 
 Devour the whole, or all they can? 
 
 It may be progress urges the fight 
 
 And holds men's conscience in a blight, 
 
 'Till error gains an upward light, 
 
 Of future years in life most bright. 
 
 Which when it grasps it, will kiss the rod. 
 
 That chastened it, through ways it trod. 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Hons-ta-ma-tha sought Pow-ha-tan, 
 Sought the great and mighty chieftain, 
 Told him all that paleface done, 
 In his home of Morning Sun; 
 Brought out his wares for chief to see. 
 What paleface made beyond the sea. 
 
 Fancy belts of colored beads, 
 Shoes, and pipes of rare old reeds. 
 Blankets for squaw, blankets for brave, 
 Some he sold and some he gave. 
 Rich presents too for warrior king. 
 Guns and powder he did bring. 
 
 Saw the little dusky maiden 
 Watch her father at his trading. 
 Saw the chief loved her the best, 
 Made her a present of a dress; 
 A dress of silk, all made to wear. 
 Some scarlet plumes to deck the hair. 
 
 Gave her rings for hands and ears, 
 Gave her till she lost her fears. 
 Kindly thought she of the paleface. 
 Saw the difference twixt her race. 
 Troubled thoughts were these for child, 
 Yet they would come all the while. 
 
 lO 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Hons-ta-ma-tha made a bargain 
 For his trinkets with the chieftain, 
 Sent his vessel home well laden 
 From the coffers of the redman; 
 Then he tarried with Pow-ha-tan, 
 In the land of Pow-ta-mat-can. 
 
 Here he staid to learn of redmen, 
 Where the gold in earth was hidden, 
 Where the gems were fashioned bright 
 When the time for furs was right. 
 Thus innocence he worked for pelf, 
 He worked it well for friends and self. 
 
 Oh, dawning intellect of day. 
 How many wrongs did cunning play. 
 Through lack of knowledge, with deceit, 
 To rouse thy mind to vengeance sweet, 
 A scholar rude you caught the art. 
 And woke to know and take thy part. 
 
 Then when thy savage nature 'rose 
 Against the wiles of pale-face foes, 
 The strongest one devoured the least 
 In one great long and drawn-out feast; 
 Took many lives, took every home. 
 And left the residue to roam. 
 
 II 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Pow-ha-tan had a cunning mind, 
 To read men's thoughts he was indined; 
 He saw the avarice and the greed, 
 And worried least the paleface feed 
 His braves with food of discontent, 
 One wrong their coming never meant. 
 
 He saw the growing reverence, 
 
 He saw the friendly confidence 
 
 Between the paleface and his child; 
 
 These thoughts of course were tamely mild. 
 
 Until fierce jealousy with fear 
 
 Repeats these words into his ear. 
 
 Oll-a-pach-chee, a lesser king, 
 Told Pow-ha-tan everything. 
 Whispered to him his belief 
 That paleface meant to be a chief; 
 Thus in the midst of pleasantry 
 There sprang fierce passions rivalry. 
 
 Oll-a-pach-chee talked with maiden, 
 Told her all in forest garden, 
 On the banks of flowing river, 
 Where she stopped to fix her quiver. 
 Tried to make her hate the paleface, 
 Sought his triumph for her race. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Po-ca-hon-tas tried in vain, 
 To make his words and meaning plain, 
 Tried to find the cause for hate 
 Which she knew was redman's trait 
 If he felt some wrong was meant, 
 Then he his mind on mischief bent. 
 
 While she thought she angry grew, 
 For 'twas false, she felt she knew; 
 Only a child of just sixteen, 
 There she stood a royal queen, 
 While her dark eyes piercing grew, 
 As these words from her lips flew. 
 
 011-a-pach-chee, coward brave, 
 What has paleface done or gave 
 That you like serpent in the way 
 Glide unawares to strike your prey? 
 Dog of the Pow-ta-mat-can race, 
 I bid you seek no more my face. 
 
 Then she turned like wounded deer, 
 Along the trail oppressed with fear, 
 Full of thoughts that there was danger 
 For her friend, the pale-face stranger, 
 Fleeing like a frightened bird 
 When it the whirr of arrow heard. 
 
 13 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Ah! Love that must rise base deceit 
 To win its prize so tempting sweet, 
 Shall wake to find the dream was fleet 
 Of blissful happiness complete, 
 And hate the name of love, and greet 
 What else of life gives joys replete. 
 
 But why should love, sweet heavenly gift. 
 Be lost in passions maelstrom swift? 
 Why, why must mortals taste the woes. 
 That passion brings where'er it goes? 
 Tell me what fiend awoke deceit. 
 To change this virtue so complete ? 
 
 Yet there's a love that's pure as gold. 
 That down the centuries long has rolled, 
 A love whose purpose is to mold, 
 All baser love into its fold, 
 A love that brighter, purer grows. 
 Through all of fife's sad, bitter throes, 
 
 A love that's given to the few, 
 That bides its time, some good to do; 
 All God had purposed they command. 
 Some step in progress by their hand, , 
 Thus Po-ca-hon-tas' life was made. 
 To fit the grooves that wisdom laid. 
 
 14 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 But the storm of jealousy grew, 
 Grew while its victim little knew 
 Of all the plans Pow-ha-tan laid 
 To take him captive while he staid, 
 How OU-a-pach-chee urged the chief 
 To take his life for his belief. 
 
 So pressed was king on every side, 
 He called a council far and wide, 
 Then took the paleface for a spy. 
 And calmly told him, he must die. 
 Picked out two braves with hideous face. 
 To take his life at 'pointed place. 
 
 In view of all the council there. 
 In midst of grand old forest fair. 
 He hears the songbird trilling near, 
 Its answering mate calling so clear, 
 Smells the wild bloom pressed by his feet, 
 Ah! Thus to die, when life's so sweet. 
 
 Po-ca-hon-tas saw him led past. 
 And her heart beat wild and fast. 
 Watched them cruel place his head. 
 Lift their clubs. See! She has fled. 
 On his form has thrown her own. 
 Round his neck with tearful moan 
 She has clasped both of her arms. 
 Shielding him from all their harms. 
 
 15 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Back! Back! Ye wolves, ye dogs of prey! 
 
 Back vultures! Watching night and day 
 
 For remnants of the Panther's play, 
 
 Let fall your arms, nor seek to slay. 
 
 Yon captive, friendless and alone. 
 
 Ugh! Where has redman's honor flown? 
 
 Why come ye here in war paint gay, 
 To council, then with death to play? 
 Ugh! 011-a-pach-chee's secret word 
 Has woke these thoughts and evil stirred. 
 Brave chieftain, spare the captive's life, 
 Oh, stop this wrong and end the strife. 
 
 Let the Great Spirit work His will, 
 Your hearts with love and pity fill. 
 The chieftain hears the maiden's plea, 
 His heart is softened! He can see. 
 His warriors too have kinder thought, 
 The maid has gained the wish she sought. 
 
 Not only shall the paleface stay. 
 
 But he may teach thee every day 
 
 Until the ship reaches this shore. 
 
 That takes him back to home once more. 
 
 Thus Pow-ha-tan spake, and spared. 
 
 His life. These thoughts his warriors shared. 
 
 i6 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 He saw his warriors loved his child, 
 This sweet young bloom of woodland wild, 
 They loved her form, her rich black hair, 
 Her flashing eye, her queenly air. 
 For every heart she had some word 
 That through its depths was kindness stirred. 
 
 The days now flew on sunny wings. 
 He taught her, Oh, so many things. 
 Things how they did in his homeland. 
 Told her how maidens dressed and planned. 
 Told her about the king and queen, 
 And taught her love at times between. 
 
 Ah! Childish heart you httle knew 
 All God had purposed you should do. 
 Through this sweet gift of love was sent, 
 A rise in progress, a betterment 
 For all the future redman's race. 
 Through mingling blood with the paleface. 
 
 'Twas well God veiled the coming years, 
 'Twas well you saw not all the tears. 
 The disappointments you must bear, 
 The stoic face that you must wear 
 Though heart was breaking with despair 
 From taunts and sneers and troubled care. 
 
 17 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 But sunny days will pass at last, 
 The sky with clouds be overcast, 
 So these bright days for both did end, 
 The parting came 'twixt friend and friend. 
 The "Ocean Bird" was moored once more, 
 Close by the cliffs, close to the shore. 
 
 One hailed the sight with eager cheer, 
 One saw it there with trembling fear, 
 Hons-ta-ma-tha, saw the waking, 
 Saw the heart in silence breaking. 
 Tried to calm the troubled heartache, 
 He knew she suffered for his sake. 
 
 Counted the moons for his return. 
 Told her how he would think and yearn 
 To see the happy, happy day. 
 When he would come to always stay; 
 Her own true brave, he'd yield his hfe 
 E'er he would fail to call her wife. 
 
 And thus they part. Moons full and wane. 
 And seasons come and come again, 
 And years do lie like leaden weight. 
 O'er Po-ca-hon-tas' lonely fate; 
 A lonely watcher by the shore. 
 Watching for one who came no more. 
 
 i8 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Through added years with glad surprise, 
 
 She sees the paleface cities rise 
 
 On every side, in every place, 
 
 Some handiwork of theirs could trace; 
 
 And through it all her loving heart 
 
 Stands oft 'twixt hate to take their part. 
 
 For this to save her hfe she fled. 
 To the paleface's home her footsteps led, 
 Seeking their shelter and their care 
 From all the wrongs her own race dare. 
 Thus she was led by unseen hand. 
 Into new fields for her command. 
 
 And he who spurned the sweet, wild gift 
 To help progression and to lift 
 From semi-darkness a crude race, 
 Shall somewhere, somehow have to face 
 The gem he lost, bright as the sun. 
 When God through her His work has done. 
 
 Let him who scorns a humble birth 
 
 Read how progression leads the Earth, 
 
 And though they obstacles do throw, 
 
 To hold it back, the stream will flow 
 
 To other lives patient and sweet. 
 
 Whose work through them his law will meet. 
 
 19 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 All the white race loved the maiden 
 With her heart so heavy laden, 
 Knew for them she'd braved the strife, 
 Knew for them she'd risked her life. 
 And their homes was open wide. 
 Where she was welcome to abide. 
 
 For life seemed perilled on every side. 
 Her heart deceived, her patience tried. 
 Her grief so hard so sore to bear. 
 She cannot tell it anywhere, 
 Only in the Great Spirit's ear 
 Can she whisper her grief and fear. 
 
 But grief in time will wear away 
 'Mid other scenes and gayety, 
 This Po-ca-hon-tas found was true, 
 Among her paleface friends, who drew 
 Her mind and heart from troubled pain 
 To brighter fields of life again. 
 
 * Wa-ta-gei-nee, a soldier brave, 
 First pitied her, then love he gave, 
 Sought her hand in wedlock too. 
 Told her his love was really true; 
 Soothed all the sorrows past with bliss, 
 Through tales of coming happiness. 
 
 * Indian name for John Rolfe. 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And so to her there came a joy, 
 
 A happiness without alloy, 
 
 And though she loved the new the best. 
 
 The old would wake within her breast 
 
 To toll the bells of memory, 
 
 A sad requiem, 'mid pleasantry. 
 
 Ring out ye bells, ye wedding bells, 
 Fill all the woods, fill all the dells, 
 Let all the birds with sweet- voiced song, 
 Join with the echoes the sound prolong. 
 Ring joyful bells of Jamestown gay. 
 This is the Princess' wedding-day. 
 
 The wedding-day has come at last. 
 While all the clouds seem to have passed; 
 All of the town is set to rights. 
 That all may come to view the sights. 
 The church is filled with perfume wild. 
 On every side the flowers are piled. 
 
 The Governor with suite attend, 
 And all the people come as a friend; 
 Pow-ha-tan and his household too, 
 With all his braves loyal and true, 
 Each bears a gift, a box of gold. 
 With title deeds of lands unsold. 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And all the strife is laid aside, 
 When Wa-ta-gei-nee claims his bride, 
 A treaty made that calls for peace, 
 Calls for all warfare now to cease. 
 A bond is wielded true and strong. 
 That he who breaks must answer wrong. 
 
 The bride wore silk of emerald hue, 
 'Broidered with beads like drops of dew; 
 With leaves of gold worked in with thread, 
 A band of same worn round the head, 
 A belt of gold and gems most rare, 
 While scarlet plumes drooped from the hair. 
 
 These with a chain and bracelets two, 
 With rings and shoes to match in hue, 
 With costly veil like morning mist 
 That hangs o'er mountain-top just kissed; 
 The brow, as sunlight wakes the day, 
 To scare the shadows all away. 
 
 The groom attired like cavalier, 
 In courtly dress a royal peer. 
 With sword and buckler by his side, 
 A contrast stood beside his bride. 
 The love light springing from his eyes, 
 A love that time and death defies. 
 
 23 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 The hands are joined, the service read, 
 Husband and wife the words are said; 
 Husband and wife pronounced so clear. 
 The kingly chief Pow-ha-tan hears. 
 And in his heart rose kingly pride, 
 To see his child a paleface's bride. 
 
 Thus progress sooths all natures wild, 
 Leads them through ways loving and mild, 
 Caring for each through darkness led. 
 With milk and honey oft she fed. 
 From Wisdom's fount, a waking light 
 That helped them on to paths more bright. 
 
 As Earth does hold within its breast, 
 A reconstructive true process. 
 So progress in the darkest mind. 
 Shall reconstruct all error blind ; 
 It may be slow or rapid flight. 
 But still in time 'twill win the fight. 
 
 Come to the feast, the wedding feast. 
 Come rich and poor, come great and least, 
 On Governor's hill the feast is spread, 
 And all of Jamestown welcome fed. 
 Then o'er the wave on ocean's tide, 
 Wa-ta-gei-nee takes his queenly bride 
 
 23 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 To England's shore, land of the sun, 
 The royal home of paleface nation; 
 She meets the queen, she meets the king. 
 She sees the cities, sees everything. 
 But Hons-ta-ma-tha comes not near. 
 To welcome her 'midst all this cheer. 
 
 He should have been the first to greet, 
 The first to welcome, the first to meet 
 This true-tried friend, Ma-to-a-ka, 
 This friend who saved his life one day; 
 The maid whose heart he stole away 
 To cast aside for some new play. 
 
 This treatment brought an added weight 
 To Po-ca-hon-tas' regal state; 
 She marvelled what the cause could be, 
 Was mystified as time did flee. 
 'Twas hard to think him false, untrue, 
 Though he had broken faith she knew. 
 
 The years have lapsed, a joy most fair 
 Has come into their home for care, 
 A bright-eyed daughter baby girl, 
 With blue'st eyes, with sunny curl; 
 A precious gift, so dainty, sweet. 
 Her life is filled with joy complete. 
 
 24 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And motherhood now doubly blessed, 
 In this new joy finds a sweet rest 
 Watching the dawning intellect, 
 Which she must now work to protect, 
 And lead along so carefully. 
 From wonderment to reality. 
 
 A pale-faced baby! Oh, how blest, 
 Of all her joys this is the best ; 
 A gift from heaven so wisely sent, 
 To fill the place that sorrow rent. 
 And all her energies combined, 
 Shall work the plans that progress lined. 
 
 Yet oft amid these grand, new ways, 
 Her heart goes back to childhood's days. 
 Her forest home canopied with green. 
 The wild- wood bloom hid 'neath the screen; 
 The song of birds by the woodland trail. 
 The thrush, the robin and the nightingale. 
 
 The whip-poor-will in the thicket copse, 
 The wise old owl in the tree tops; 
 The hares and squirrels, the dear things. 
 All these to the exile memory brings; 
 The rivers and brooks gliding away, 
 The cataracts leap with foamy spray. 
 
 25 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 The valleys and plains and mountains high, 
 Where the grand old eagles love to fly, 
 The fiery steed with nostrils wide 
 Which none but a redman dare to ride; 
 The hunt and the chase so wild and free, 
 These with her own she longs to see. 
 
 She would take her way back o'er the sea, 
 For the pomps of hfe set wearily; 
 She loves it though, this upward way. 
 But her thoughts to the old will stray. 
 And Wa-ta-gei-nee wishful to please. 
 Will take her back, her heart to ease. 
 
 Yet, ere she goes she must try to find 
 Hons-ta-ma-tha, and friendship bind. 
 Heal all the difference if she could, 
 For the sake of the old time brotherhood. 
 But when they meet his careless tone 
 Tells her his friendly love has flown. 
 
 Down at his feet kneeling she pleads 
 To know the cause of scorn she reads; 
 But jestingly, he there denies 
 That any difference underlies 
 His treatment. And covertly tries 
 To make her understand 'twas pride 
 Of birth, that kept him from her side. 
 
 26 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 She saw, she heard! Her dark cheek flushed. 
 
 Her heart beats wild, as Hfe blood rushed 
 
 Like a tumultuous torrent 
 
 That rain clouds down a gorge has sent. 
 
 Proudly erect with queenly grace, 
 
 She speaks these words with ashen face: 
 
 Farewell, my friend! My work is done, 
 
 I leave this land of Morning Sun, 
 
 To cross the sea, the ocean wave. 
 
 To my own home, where Redman brave 
 
 Would stand all torture rather than show 
 
 Ingratitude: Farewell, I go. 
 
 Weeping, she turns back to her home. 
 Where loved ones watch to see her come, 
 But the proud spirit is rent in twain, 
 The wounded bird sings never again; 
 And e'er they leave to cross the wave. 
 Her spirit returns to God who gave. 
 
 Ring out ye bells, ring sad and slow 
 Let all of Jamestown hear and know 
 A gentle spirit has passed away. 
 To the great beyond, where all must stray 
 When life is o'er. The good, the bad. 
 Ring out ye bells ! Toll slow and sad. 
 
 27 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Say gentle spirit dost thou ever come, 
 
 To visit the scenes of thy lost home? 
 
 If so 'tis planned, you surely see 
 
 How wisdom helped progress through thee, 
 
 Though bitter mingled with the sweet, 
 
 Thy work was well, t hy work complete. 
 
 Thy deeds of love, thy gentle ways, 
 Shall all be sung by thy posterity. 
 While on the leaves of thy history's page 
 The proudest shall trace their hneage. 
 But he who turned thy love away 
 His name, be lost in time's obliquity. 
 
 Among the names that history brings. 
 Of Legends old, or poets sing, 
 None has a richer melody. 
 Or sadder pathos of that day 
 Than this sweet tale of human play. 
 Where hate and love, and passions sway. 
 Wove thread by thread, with warp and woof, 
 A tale of marvellous love and truth. 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 Auburn, March 30th, 1903. 
 
 ?8 
 
THE ONEIDAS. 
 
 Within a forest's sheltered glade, 
 Close beside a rippling stream, 
 
 Where moss rich tapestry o'er laid 
 
 The earth and rocks with richest green, 
 
 Lived a chieftain among his braves, 
 A noble clan of freedom's sons, 
 
 Her first-born progeny. Not slaves 
 But men whose intellect there clung 
 
 To all the spirit part and paved 
 The way to a higher, nobler life. 
 
 'Twas thus they ever sought and craved 
 The Spirit's help thro' mysteries rife. 
 
 Content with all He seeming gave, 
 Of joy, of sorrow, death or life. 
 
 Nor would they brook to be the slave 
 Of cultured progress' fettered strife. 
 
 29 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Moved by a spirit-power unseen, 
 
 They live and spend each night and day 
 
 Without a care. And learn to lean 
 (To let time bring what e'er it may.) 
 
 And ask for all their yearning wants, 
 Of Him who feeds the spirit part, 
 
 Unconscious that these sheltered haunts 
 Have brought them here near God's own heart. 
 
 They ever see Him in each leaf, 
 
 In flower, in the bright water's play, 
 
 The thunder's voice is Spirit Chief, 
 Speaking to them in mystic way. 
 
 The sun, the moon, the bright stars course, 
 Like pictured book unfolds to them 
 
 The Great Spirit's majestic force. 
 
 That planned all these for mortal man. 
 
 THEIR SIGNS. 
 
 Thus children of this coistered vale. 
 They learn to know the seasons' call. 
 
 For when the Maize its golden veil. 
 Of many leaves like covered ball 
 
 30 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Hangs heavy on its upward stalk, 
 
 Then winter's snows will higher creep, 
 
 And when the blackbird and the hawk, 
 In countless numbers fly and keep 
 
 A southward flight, then winter's nigh; 
 
 And Bruin when his shadow sees, 
 Turns back with momentary sigh. 
 
 To take a six weeks' longer ease. 
 
 'Tis then their food they careful hoard 
 For spring is still a long way off. 
 
 When beaver builds low down the ford, 
 Then winter soon her snows will doff. 
 
 The crescent moon in silver tint 
 Holds all the rain if horn is bent 
 
 But if it downward hangs 'tis hint 
 That all she holds to earth is sent. 
 
 And thus each hunter knows the sign 
 That Luna smiling sends to earth. 
 
 'Tis time to hunt for prey she shines. 
 Then blushing red foretells a dearth. 
 
 31 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 All this they learn, apt scholars they, 
 In Nature's book. A simple folk, 
 
 Whose life of freedom a perfect day, 
 Untrammelled by a bondsman's yoke. 
 
 True sons of Honor's high estate, 
 Thy vet'rans are in chivalry, 
 
 And quickly learn to estimate 
 The good in all this quickened clay. 
 
 And he who dare diverge the line 
 Hath hurt himself beyond repute. 
 
 For thus he shows a brutish mind, 
 That hath not known the Spirit's care. 
 
 Ah! homeland of a noble race 
 
 That once roamed thro' these glades and hills, 
 A pale-face nation owns thy place, 
 
 With minds attuned as progress wills. 
 
 And Nature here can find no place 
 Where she can hold a close commune, 
 
 Nor in these scenes can hardly trace. 
 What once she called her very own. 
 
 32 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Here forests grand, stately and old, 
 Have vanished like a dream, 
 
 And in their place are fields of gold, 
 Whose nodding heads with riches teem. 
 
 These waters that went sparkling free, 
 Are yoked and bound by progress' chain. 
 
 And made to bear prosperity, 
 
 Where'er she wills and all her gain. 
 
 The brute creation lingered still, 
 After the redman's rapid flight, ^ 
 
 But paleface brought with him a will 
 And now they too have passed from sight. 
 
 Only a burial mound remains, 
 Only a remnant of some wood, 
 
 Or some wild flower, blooming again, 
 Bears witness in its solitude. 
 
 But though the redman passed away, 
 Many a legend tale is told. 
 
 For love forsooih held sceptcred sway. 
 And garnered all their secrets old. 
 
 33 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Many a winter's storm hath heaped 
 Its snows upon a grand dame's grave, 
 
 But still her story ages keep, 
 And passing generations save. 
 
 Sometimes a bloody massacre, 
 
 Would send the chills down to our feet. 
 
 But when this tale we'd coax of her, 
 We listened then our joy complete. 
 
 Perhaps 'twere fiction made to please, 
 A childish restlessness to tame. 
 
 But yet through all the years it sees. 
 They each and all tell it the same. 
 
 And thus the misty ages bring 
 Adown the slope of passing time, 
 
 A record that with myst'ries ring, 
 A name of richest legendary. 
 
 'Twas thus it ran, one of the clans 
 Or tribes as redmen call their brood, 
 
 Had long known want and idle hands 
 Had weakly grown for lack of food. 
 
 34 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee, chief of this one clan, 
 Sought the Great Spirit for His help, 
 
 But still fierce hunger thro' the land, 
 Blighted all hope and havoc made. 
 
 The cold intense had settled down, 
 And ice had glued each sparkling wave, 
 
 And deer and game found other ground. 
 To furnish all their longings crave. 
 
 In the wigwam sat Na-has-sett, 
 With her last-born upon her lap. 
 
 All day he moaned for food; and yet 
 When night her mantle wrapped, 
 
 He moaning fell asleep; nor waked 
 For very weariness; but slept. 
 
 Na-has-sett's heart within her quacked, 
 For fear the night Oh-gee-chee kept 
 
 Far from his home pursuing game. 
 And morn would tell once more the tale. 
 
 With each succeeding night the same. 
 His hunt for food and succor fail. 
 
 35 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Kneeling outside the wigwam door, 
 She fearful asks the Spirit's care. 
 
 When through the trail came bounding o'er, 
 A wounded deer, and answered prayer, 
 
 Dying beside her prostrate form. 
 
 And then Oh-gce-chce, panting bore 
 A pale-face child he saved from harm. 
 
 And laid it on the wigwam floor. 
 
 And this the tale the chieftain told. 
 
 He wandered far along the chase, 
 Till in the west the sun like gold. 
 
 Departing threw its beams thro' space 
 
 And touched the heavy draperies 
 
 Of clouds, that banked the western sky 
 
 With broad light bands of golden rays. 
 That purpled crimsoned far and high. 
 
 He set him down beneath a cliff, 
 
 Faint and weak from his long fasting, 
 
 When far above thro' rock-worn rift, 
 He saw an eagle homeward wing 
 
 36 
 
!) 
 
 OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Its way to where the rock was cleft; 
 
 And then he saw he bore some food 
 To nourish those at home he left, 
 
 High on the rock his eagle brood. 
 
 'Twas then desire nerved his arm, 
 He thought of those he left at home. 
 
 And thus he counted it no harm, 
 To make them all his very own. 
 
 He climbed the rock. There in the light 
 Beside the screeching eagles wild 
 
 With clothes all torn, convulsed with fright. 
 He saw with pain a pale-face child. 
 
 Within his hand he grasped a stone. 
 As if he questioned there his might. 
 
 The yielding up, his life alone 
 Without some struggle for the right. 
 
 Seizing the boy from farther harm, 
 He vanquished all his eagle foes. 
 
 Then wrapping him in blanket warm 
 He down the icy mountain goes. 
 
 37 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 The sun which hngered all this while, 
 Now threw one gleam of crimson gold 
 
 O'er mountain peak thro' sharp defile, 
 Then sank to rest its mission told. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee felt 'twas Spirit care 
 That led him to that eyerie nest. 
 
 And felt the Spirit wished him share. 
 His worldly goods with all the rest. 
 
 'Twas thus this child-hke faith and trust, 
 Held sway o'er vulgar passion's play. 
 
 And softened all those savage lusts, 
 Where confidence confiding lay. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee now with troubled fear, 
 Went speeding o'er the homeward trail, 
 
 When cross the gorge he sees a deer, 
 Standing outlined in daylight pale 
 
 Against the snow-white rock. — He sees, 
 And then his arrow speeding brings 
 
 A low sad wail. It madly flees 
 
 Far down the trail, and hoofbeats ring. 
 
 38 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And flecks of blood Oh-gee-chee sees 
 On crusted snow; tell plainly there 
 
 The evil spirit is appeased, 
 
 The God of plenty answered prayer. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee bade Na-has-sett care 
 
 And dress the little white boy's wounds. 
 
 For his coming brought good luck there, 
 And they must keep him many moons. 
 
 The good squaw then took eagles' meat * 
 And dressed his wounds so fearful deep, 
 
 And gave the paleface food to eat, 
 Then hushed his sobs he fell asleep. 
 
 When o'er the earth again 'twas day, 
 Otisco moaning cryin' woke. 
 
 Sees the boy and cries: Oh! Nei-da 
 Nei-da. Oh! Nei-da, thus he spoke. 
 
 Then clasp his little hands with glee. 
 
 His very woe forgot in joy. 
 To see a mate though strange he be, ^ 
 
 And thus he named the pale-face boy. 
 
 * Bite of the same dog cures the wound. (An old indian 
 proverb.) 
 
 39 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 * Oneida clung (nor would he part), 
 Through all his troubled dreaming rest, 
 
 Close to the stone, pressed to his heart, 
 The one he had in eagle's nest, 
 
 As if to him some strength it lent, 
 To succor him in time of need. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee said the Spirit sent 
 The stone as charm his life to lead. 
 
 The sun 'woke warm o'er all the earth, 
 And thawed the ice on limb and tree, 
 
 While little rivers full of mirth, 
 
 Ran reckless downward, wild and free. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee shared his meat with all. 
 For hunters still were far from home. 
 
 But ere the night had spread her pall. 
 They to the camp with plenty come. 
 
 Hunger's appeased and all is joy, 
 
 They dance with wild hilarity 
 And vow allegiance to the boy 
 
 Whose coming brought prosperity. 
 
 * Oh-nei-da, one tradition says, was a French word for Oh! 
 nice, and the Indians perverted it by calHng things nieta 
 Oneida. 
 
 40 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 0-nei-da grew in strength each day, 
 And child-Hke soon forgot his woes. 
 
 'Mid all this stirring, wild, new way. 
 In fact he learned to like it so. 
 
 At length he came to man's estate. 
 Loved by Oh-gee-chee as his son, 
 
 Otisco shared his every fate, 
 What one proposed the other done. 
 
 Like duckhng reared by clucking hen, 
 A fault in them he could not see. 
 
 Until his kind he saw and then 
 There 'woke a true affinity. 
 
 Where peril was he bravely went. 
 Nor ever thought of cringing fear. 
 
 His manly strength was cheerful lent, 
 To succor those to him most dear. 
 
 'Twas he whose speeding arrow gave 
 
 To chief the finest of all game. 
 'Twas he who fearless rode to save. 
 
 Through war, and mercy showed the same. 
 
 41 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Now lapse of years had brought no change 
 Except the good Na-has-sett's death. 
 
 But in her place a paleface strange, 
 Filled part the void her dying left. 
 
 From o'er the waters where the sun 
 Did seem to leap from morning bath, 
 
 And tip each crested wave when done, 
 With burnished gold along its path, 
 
 A vessel sped rocked by the wave 
 Rode safely to her destiny. 
 
 And safely to the new world gave, 
 A gleam of hght of dawning day. 
 
 Good Father Hermann, priest and friend, 
 By German mission here was sent. 
 
 To labor and perhaps to spend 
 The residue of life content. 
 
 He came among the Iroquois 
 
 And found Oh-gee-chee kind and true. 
 And here he found these brave young boys, 
 
 He taught them how to live and do. 
 
 42 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Good Hermann was a godly man 
 
 A pattern of humility. 
 He sought to make them understand 
 
 The plan of true divinity. 
 
 'Twas thus the seed its good fruit bore, 
 O-nei-da gave to God his heart, 
 
 He listened to good Hermann more, 
 And trusting strove to do his part. 
 
 Otisco more from habit came, 
 Because O-nei-da wished him go. 
 
 And soon he loved the word the same 
 The truth he learned to know. 
 
 When evening shadows deepened nigh, 
 And tired earth seemed 'bout to sleep. 
 
 When the dear birdies home would fly, 
 And moon and stars would softly creep. 
 
 O-nei-da found a restful peace. 
 
 Sitting beside his new-found friend. 
 
 Till every forest sound would cease, 
 
 Charmed with each word he uttered then, 
 
 43 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 Ofttimes we think we each do know, 
 Just what the day to us will bring. 
 
 But ere at night to rest we go, 
 We find a change in many things. 
 
 Perhaps 'twere sorrow's crushing blow, 
 Perhaps 'twere joy beyond all thought. 
 
 Perhaps a friend turned to a foe. 
 Yet time these changes oft has wrought. 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 O-nei-da and Otisco went, 
 As wont to hunt for rabbit meat. 
 
 And as their luck increased it lent 
 A fresh impetus to their feet. 
 
 They wandered far away from home, 
 Within the thickest of the wood. 
 
 Enchanted by the sport they roam, 
 Lured by the perfect solitude. 
 
 At length they come upon a scene, 
 A village standing by a stream, 
 
 O'ershadowed by gray rocks that lean 
 To shelter all below; and seem 
 
 44 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 To guard the place with watchful eye, 
 And frown upon intrusion there. 
 
 Here trailing vines in richness lie 
 On rock and bank in beauty fair. 
 
 Making this spot a fairyland, 
 
 The very place that love would see. 
 
 For beauty grows where love commands, 
 And Nature paints exquisitely. 
 
 WIN-NEE-OCK-EE-LES. 
 
 And thus they meet beneath the trees, 
 Where love sat smiling at his ease, 
 
 A Mohawk maid as pure and free 
 As flower, Win-nee-ock-ee-les. 
 
 Quick as a flash their hearts have flown, 
 Forth from their eyes to meet her own. 
 
 A joy exquisite never known. 
 
 Hides the arrow by Cupid thrown. 
 
 She bids them to her lodge repair, 
 To rest their every weariness, 
 
 To meet her aged father there. 
 Good Tus-ga-wee-ga as his guest. 
 
 45 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 SECRETS. 
 
 A night has passed, a day has fled, 
 And still they hnger many days. 
 
 Lured by the maid who charming led 
 Them both along love's pleasant ways. 
 
 0-nei-da seeks to hide his love, 
 From brave Otisco's searching eyes. 
 
 Otisco knows the cooing dove. 
 Loves him and all he does and tries. 
 
 At last they part and both believe 
 That he's the favored suitor sure, 
 
 Of sweet Win-nee-ock-ee-les, 
 x\h! thus did Cupid ever lure. 
 
 EDEN. 
 
 Centuries have brought a story long 
 From the first Eden forest home, 
 
 Where Mother Eve thought it no wrong 
 To talk and flirt with more than one. 
 
 But Adam as the story's told, 
 Had eyes for only Mother Eve. 
 
 And here is where love first enrolled 
 And earth her lesson first receives. 
 
 ^6 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Perhaps 'twere virtue wisely blessed, 
 
 To keep and hold maternity, 
 But this we know and guess the rest, 
 
 True love fits earth most charmingly. 
 
 There may be times love's indiscreet. 
 For Satan steals in love's retreat. 
 
 And smoothly works his wiles so sweet, 
 He sometimes finds virtue asleep. 
 
 DIFFERENCES. 
 
 And now there came between the two 
 A something hard to understand, 
 
 And where they used to think and do 
 The same, they sadly seemed estranged. 
 
 THE VISIT. 
 
 Time passed and spring had come once more, 
 Then Tus-ga-wee-ga left his door. 
 
 Taking fair Win-nee-ock-ee-les, 
 And journeyed west the maid to please. 
 
 He came to visit Oh-gee-chee, 
 
 To have a Httle friendly chat, 
 About a future chief; and see 
 
 If he would give advice 'bout that. 
 
 47 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 For he was old and soon must go 
 To the Great Spirit's hunting ground, 
 
 And he would hke if it 'twere so, 
 
 That either brave had favor found 
 
 With the sweet Win-nee-ock-ee-les, 
 And he would give him land and brave. 
 
 For this would make his heart at ease, 
 E're he was sleeping in the grave. 
 
 A PROBLEM. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee's heart beat fast with pride, 
 For here came honor to his fold, 
 
 As it was known both far and wide, 
 That he was rich in land and gold. 
 
 Oh-gee-chee thought and thought and thought, 
 So many vexious questions came. 
 
 At length the Spirit came and taught. 
 To let the maiden tell the name. 
 
 And so he bade him tarry 'while 
 To let the Spirit work its will, 
 
 And make the maiden's loving smile. 
 The chosen one, with love to fill. 
 
 48 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And now they waited day by day 
 And let fair youth have its own way, 
 
 To solve the problem as it may, 
 While love is busy with its play. 
 
 JEALOUSY, 
 
 At length there came as always comes, 
 A time when one was tortured deep. 
 
 Where love had been rage found a home 
 And jealousy its secrets keep. 
 
 One afternoon O-tis-co spied ^ 
 O-nei-da and the maiden fair 
 
 Sitting and talking side by side 
 Within a leafy bower there. 
 
 He saw the smile that lit her eyes, 
 
 That beamed and rippled o'er her face, 
 
 He saw her bosom heave and rise. 
 Her hand within 0-nei-da's place. 
 
 At once there came a lack, a dearth. 
 He seems to be so strangely old. 
 
 All joy is gone, there is no mirth. 
 
 The earth to him seems void and cold. 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And as he watched there came within 
 A strange new hght, starthng but true, 
 
 And thus it seemed to say to him, 
 'Tis he she loves it is not you. 
 
 And then he walks and talks thro' night, y 
 
 Through all the thickest shadowed light 
 
 Meets O-nei-da with heart aright . 
 
 Seeking good Hermann to invite 11 
 
 And ask him tie the nuptial knot. 
 
 He sees O-tis-co walking there. 
 With heated brow and anger hot, 
 
 Who in this 'vengeful spirit dare 
 
 To strike his rival. He forgot 
 
 All else. Should once the blow be dealt, 
 And while the arm was lifted not, 
 
 O-nei-da saw and pity felt. 
 
 He tried to pacify his would-be foe, 
 "O-tis-co brother, stay thy hand, 
 If thou must deal the blow 
 
 That sends me to the spirit land. 
 
 5° 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 We'll part in peace. You I forgive, 
 • And here beneath these moonlit trees, 
 I give my blessing while I live 
 And leave you Win-nee-ock-ee-les." 
 
 THE spirit's care. 
 
 The hands dropped weak; he could not deal 
 
 The blow to one who loving gave 
 His own true life a breach to heal, 
 
 And would not try his life to save. 
 
 "O-nei-da can you me forgive, 
 When here beneath these forest trees 
 
 I sought thy life that I might live 
 To win fair Win-nee-ock-ee-les?" 
 
 (O-nei-da.) 
 
 "O-tis-co, brother, why this wrong, 
 
 'Tis spirit of some evil one, 
 Have we not loved each other long? 
 
 Speak, brother speak, what would'st thou done ?' ' 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 (O-iis-co:) 
 
 "The redman's passion, fierce and wild, 
 Hath perished like the morning dew. 
 
 And in its place a spirit mild 
 
 That sees and knows how to be true. 
 
 SI 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Brother 0-tis-co's heart is dead. 
 
 The earth has lost her joy for me, 
 Passion has fled and in its stead, 
 
 A monster vile I seem to be. 
 
 A viper who would crawl and sting 
 The hand that kindly gives it food. 
 
 'Twas love, real love, the evil thing 
 
 That brought about this fenzied mood. 
 
 I seemed to think you were my foe, 
 That fearful passion seemed to live 
 
 And move my every being so, 
 
 Say O-nei-da canst thou forgive?" 
 
 (O-nei-da:) 
 
 "Brother, forgiveness is but part, 
 My yearning soul in pity sees 
 
 How hard it is to make the heart 
 Give up its all, others to please. 
 
 We both have lived and had one mind 
 And had no secrets hid between 
 
 Until this thing called love did find 
 A way our loving hearts to wean." 
 
 52 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 Good Hermann too had restless grown, 
 And quiet sought in midnight air. 
 
 He walking there in thought alone, 
 Saw all that had transpired there. 
 
 He saw the Spirit gendy lead 
 
 O-tis-co to a better mind, 
 And thankful grew his heart for seed. 
 
 Whose fruit o'erpowered passion blind. 
 
 He came to them and laid his hands 
 
 On both their heads, then spoke these words: 
 
 "God knows the stars. He counts the sands, 
 He saw this struggle, each word heard. 
 
 And He is pleased, you cannot know 
 How pleased; to see His children pray. 
 
 And thus forgive and mercy show. 
 
 For God hath been with you this day." 
 
 Then leading them to wigwam door. 
 
 He pointed to a path of peace. 
 And kindly blessing them once more 
 
 He begged them let all difference cease. 
 
 53 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 WAR, 
 
 The morning brought a scent of war, 
 The winds came surging thro' the pines, 
 
 Low boomed the thunder from afar, 
 
 The storm king came with all these signs. 
 
 And storm was in the hearts of men 
 
 And all the village was astir 
 For Sioux have trespassed they contend. 
 
 Have stolen game. Thus they confer. 
 
 They took the scalps of our young braves 
 And left them all where they were slain. 
 
 Now we must go to make their graves, 
 Then punish them for this foul stain. 
 
 O-nei-da bade the maid good-bye 
 And kissed the anxious, tearful face 
 
 With this assurance if he die, 
 O-tis-co, he must take his place. 
 
 And now the maiden decks her brave 
 
 With beads and feathers wrought with care, 
 
 Then asks the Spirit keep and save 
 All those who go to battle there. 
 
 54 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 VICTORY. 
 
 When once the spirit is afire, 
 
 Within the hearts of men who feel, 
 
 Justice justifies resentful ire 
 To slay the slayer, a breach to heal. 
 
 Then war is always fierce and wild, 
 Insulted pride wounds deep within, 
 
 Like thorns in flesh, it rankles riled. 
 To center thought on that one thing. 
 
 THE IMAGE OF SOME SPIRIT. 
 
 Some unseen force, some spirit sense. 
 Taught redmen that their body bore 
 
 A semblance to its maker. Hence 
 Disfigurement was punished more 
 
 Than all the cheating, lying ways 
 Humanity could bring to bear. 
 
 For while one hurt a few short days. 
 The other marred for all time there. 
 
 And he who lost his scalp by foe 
 Felt keenly sore o'er his mishap. 
 
 All emulation now must go. 
 
 And midnight gloom his spirit wrap. 
 
 55 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 VICTORY. 
 
 They fly along the forest trail, 
 
 Pursuing eager for the fray. 
 They've been betrayed they must not fail, 
 
 Insulted honor claims its prey. 
 
 enemy's camp. 
 
 Around its smoking camp fire, 
 
 Unconscious lay the enemy. 
 When shrieks that rise high and higher, 
 
 'Rouse them from sleep at break of day. 
 
 The echoes ring ten sounds for one. 
 To fill the woods with swarms of fiends. 
 
 They shout for mercy as they run. 
 Where'er a 'vengeful foe is seen. 
 
 A fearful onslaught rages here, 
 A fierce encounter hand to hand. 
 
 One fights for name to him most dear, 
 The other at his hfe's demand. 
 
 No sign of weariness or fear, 
 
 Did the brave redman ever show. 
 
 From his dark eye no falling tear, 
 When he was vanquished there would flow. 
 
 56 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 But stoic bravery tho' he were hack'd 
 And torn in pieces by his foe, 
 
 He would not flinch tho' he were rack'd 
 By torture, none would ever know. 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 The conflict raged until no foe 
 The victors of the fight can see, 
 
 Then all prepare to homeward go, 
 When there beside a large oak tree 
 
 They find 0-tis-co dying there. 
 
 Where cruel arrows pierced his heart. 
 
 Then each and all with loving care, 
 Do all they can to ease the smart. 
 
 He sees how useless this must be. 
 And calls "O-nei-da, are you here? 
 
 Brother, the Hght is fading, see. 
 The death angel is drawing near. 
 
 But ere I go brother, one word, 
 Place me within the burial mound 
 
 Where all the forest's music's heard. 
 Close by the river's rushing sound. 
 
 57 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And when the spring returns each year, 
 Will you and Win-nee-ock-ee-les 
 
 Bring sweet wild flowers to plant near 
 O-tis-co's grave in mem'ry please? 
 
 Tell Hermann I have gained true love, 
 And peace that passeth death for life. 
 
 It comes to me from God above, 
 And gives such joy I feel no strife. 
 
 I leave Oh-gee-chee to your care, 
 The world is fading from my view, 
 
 Brother, I ask you meet me there 
 Where life and love are always true." 
 
 Above his heart he placed his hands. 
 His lips then moved to utter prayer. 
 
 "Father above in spirit lands 
 Forgive and take O-tis-co there. 
 
 Let thy dear presence guide me cross, 
 Thro' the deep waters to the shore. 
 
 Where all the friends that I have lost, 
 I'll meet to dwell with evermore." 
 
 58 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 The end had come, the spirit flown, 
 And they prepare to take their way. 
 
 Back o'er the trail with sad, sad moan, 
 In burial mound the dead to lay. 
 
 TREACHERY. 
 
 Sometimes deep grief will make men wild, 
 Will take all kindness from their soul. 
 
 'Twas thus O-gee-chee's heart was riled, 
 As crushing sorrow o'er him rolled. 
 
 He roamed alone and seemed to be 
 A senseless stone without a tear. 
 
 If only it could prove a dream and flee, 
 And morning light make it all clear. 
 
 This is the mood bad spirits like 
 To work their evil charms upon. 
 
 Scarce did this grief his bosom strike, 
 
 Ere thoughts of treachery to him did come. 
 
 Good Hermann who had thoughtless told 
 The midnight scene down in the wood, 
 
 And how O-tis-co's fierce wild mood 
 Was led by spirit wise and good, 
 
 59 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Had dropped a straw which in its turn, 
 Was magnified and made to be 
 
 A pretext for their lives with stern, 
 Morose, vindictive Oh-gee-chee. 
 
 And now he thinks when battle raged, 
 And everyone with foe engaged, 
 
 That then O-nei-da his death planned, 
 That he might win the maiden's hand. 
 
 They both are watched and bound by braves, 
 With jealous eye that guards them well, 
 
 Oh-gee-chee near them walks and raves 
 And scouts at all O-nei-da tells. 
 
 DOOMED TO DEATH. 
 
 At last the day appointed breaks. 
 
 With downpour rain and thunder boom. 
 
 As if each cloud wept for their sakes. 
 As they were led forth to their doom. 
 
 'Twas thus be planned to take their lives, 
 First brave O-nei-da he must die. 
 
 Then next good Hermann. Pierced by knives. 
 That through the air around them fly. 
 
 60 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 They may not die among the scenes 
 
 Where they have passed each happy day; 
 
 But far away thro' forest green 
 Near by a cataract's falling spray. 
 
 And all his braves stand silent by, 
 
 While Tus-ga-wee-ga's vengeance take, 
 
 And Win-nee-ock-ee-les sees him die. 
 Thus hard their fate they try to make. 
 
 oh-gee-chee's speech to o-nei-da. 
 
 "Son," said the chief, "I saved your life, 
 And warmed you in my own warm breast, 
 
 What evil spirit caused the strife 
 That sent your brother to his rest? 
 
 My heart is like a failing spring, 
 Where pure fresh waters cease to flow. 
 
 'Tis useless now,^ no strength it brings 
 To life that round it tries to grow. 
 
 You tell of a Spirit that gave 
 And cares for His children below, 
 
 Bid Him come your lives to save. 
 And Oh-gee-chee will pardon you." 
 
 6i 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 HERMANN SPEAKS TO 0-GEE-CHEE. 
 
 "Chieftain," and Hermann spake the word, 
 "The Spirit that I love and own, 
 
 Knows my own heart, my prayer has heard 
 My sorrows too to Him are known. 
 
 I care not for the death you plan. 
 Since He will help me through it all, 
 
 I care more for this brave young man, 
 Who through dark treachery must fall. 
 
 I know his heart is brave and true, 
 I know his thoughts are still for you. 
 
 Death hath no terrors, if 'twere you. 
 His life he'd give and die and do." 
 
 ONEIDA. 
 
 0-nei-da's life a reflex bore 
 A likened semblance to his father, 
 
 Whate'er he said or did was more 
 To him than all the world together. 
 
 0-NEI-DA SPEAKS TO O-GEECHEE. 
 
 "Father, what were a thousand hves, 
 Life is not life its sweetness gone, 
 
 Dishonored thus before all eyes. 
 The bird has lost its happy song. 
 
 62 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 I know you say that thro' my veins 
 The hated pale-face blood runs free, 
 
 But this I know, it bears no stain 
 Of base ingratitude to thee. 
 
 I would not live though you should bid, 
 To go back where my friends may be, 
 
 I'd rather die, my body hid 
 Here 'mong these scenes I love to see." 
 
 WIN-NEE-OCK-EE-LES SPEAKS TO OH-GEE-CHEE. 
 
 "Chieftain," Win-nee-ock-ee-les said, 
 "My father is an aged tree. 
 
 That every breeze that blows o'erhead. 
 Turns it which way it wills it be. 
 
 The Mohawk maid is a young tree, 
 
 That grows and thrives where sunlight falls, 
 
 It withers where the shadows be 
 Let the good chief his words recall. 
 
 The braves that take 0-nei-da's life, 
 Are our own braves and friends to me. 
 
 And they have promised that same knife. 
 Shall kill Win-nee-ock-ee-les." 
 
 63 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 SAVED. 
 
 The lightnings crash, the earth is rent, 
 The rocks roll down in one huge mass 
 
 As if some angry spirit sent 
 
 These stones to save their lives at last. 
 
 For when they look there all alone, 
 
 O-nei-da stands. The braves are dead. 
 
 And at his feet a large, red stone. 
 That fell near him from overhead. 
 
 FEAR. 
 
 *"Tis the God of fire, Oh-gee-chee !" 
 Said Tus-ga-wee-ga falling prone. 
 
 "God of fire and redmen flee 
 And leave the captives there alone." 
 
 "God of love," Win-nee-ock-ee-les 
 
 Said. "Oh, Chieftains, look afar and see 
 
 The storm has fled and all the trees 
 Are nodding thanks the sun to see." 
 
 Said Tus-ga-wee-ga, "See the sun. 
 Is the fire from His mighty heart. 
 
 The moon His breath when day is done, 
 And every star His victories part. 
 
 64 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 The thunder is His voice of wrath, 
 Lightning the speeding arrow's flash, 
 
 That flies adown the starry path 
 
 To pierce each cloud the rain to dash. 
 
 I know He's love, see the wild ferns 
 Lift up their heads for sun to kiss, 
 
 And sparkle when the breezes turn 
 Each waving twig to form the mist. 
 
 The river has a happy sound, 
 Oh-gee-chee," Tus-ga-wee-ga said, 
 
 "The aged oak new life has found, 
 And love abides where hate has fled. 
 
 "The God of love", said the good priest, 
 "God tries each child to test his worth. 
 
 Yet helps withal the very least. 
 
 We all are His from hour of birth." 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 "Father I thank thee in this need, 
 That Thou hast walked close by my side, 
 
 And turned fierce hate to love, indeed, 
 My heart o'erflows with gratitude. 
 
 65 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Father, let the good seed sown, 
 
 Bring forth a hundredfold for Thee 
 
 Oh, make these savage hearts Thy own, 
 Bright stars in Hermann's crown for me." 
 
 Oh-gee-chee seeing, then grows weak, 
 "It's the Great Spirit's voice," he said, 
 
 **You both are free! Oh, paleface speak 
 And tell Him by His will I'm led." 
 
 He names O-nei-da child of the stone. 
 And gives him braves and lands to please, 
 
 Accepts the living God each one 
 And then true light Oh-gee-chee sees. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 And then the legend tells how true 
 O-nei-da kept his word and wed 
 
 Win-nee-ock-ee-les; and how through 
 Many happy years their lives were sped. 
 
 Until a nation grew, its name, 
 
 O-nei-da, child of the stone. 
 Thus down the misty age it came 
 
 And really means ''God save His own." 
 
 66 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And thus there is to this last day 
 
 A remnant of this nation dead, 
 Who saved by God's own hand and way, 
 
 Are hopeful by the Spirit led. 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 Auburn, . January ist, 1897. 
 
 67 
 
THE LOST ARROW. 
 
 *Os-sa-hin-ta was a warrior bold 
 Stout of limb as any giant old. 
 Fleet of foot with deer-like fleetness 
 Proud and brave, he was the bravest, 
 Straight as any bowman's arrow, 
 He could love and he could sorrow. 
 
 When his arm in warfare lifted, 
 All the muscles knot and twisted 
 Like giant roots of some gnarled tree, 
 That from the earth choose to be free. 
 And loosely on the ground to run, 
 And toughen 'mid the blast and sun. 
 
 So he by prowess brought to light, 
 The subtle nature of his might. 
 In the free hfe of forest air, 
 He perfect grew to manhood there. 
 Gaining strength in wild pursuits, 
 'Till he was master of the brutes. 
 
 * Os-sa-hin-la was a young Indian chief who died broken- 
 hearted. He was the son of a brave chief, one of six nations, 
 his home was on the shores of the Skaneateles lake, where 
 a steamboat named after him (The Os-sa-hin-ta) plies be- 
 tween the foot and head for the accommodation of tourists. 
 
 68 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Thus all that wrestle with him share 
 Alike! He mastered all who dare 
 To question what he thought was right, 
 Or sought one of his friends to slight 
 He walked the earth a monarch there 
 A king amid the forest fair. 
 
 True was his arrow's speeding flight, 
 To some tall clift, or mountain height. 
 To bring rich trophies for his skill, 
 Unsatisfied he wanders still 
 With restless yearnings in his breast. 
 To meet some foe his strength to test. 
 
 The very beasts crouch back to lair. 
 To meet his eye none could or dare. 
 They seemed to feel with slinking fear, 
 That all must leave his pathway clear, 
 The very reptiles glide away, 
 Where'er his daring footsteps stray. 
 
 Born in a forest by a stream. 
 Life seems to him a pleasant dream. 
 And Nature mother of it all. 
 Whom he obeys whate'er her call. 
 A chieftain's son of brave repute 
 'Twere natural he should follow suit. 
 
 69 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And so he braved what dangers came 
 With all his kinsfolks' stoic fame, 
 But way down deep 'neath swelling breast, 
 There pulsed a heart of tenderness. 
 And passion lit the dark eyes' flame, 
 When love with wonder to him came. 
 
 Then all the world to him did wake, 
 A joyous melody to make, 
 The very streams did sing a song, 
 To mingle with the birds at morn. 
 Even the chatterings of the wood. 
 His heart responds to find them good. 
 
 Led by love with her fickle chain, 
 Fired with passion's resistless flame 
 Os-sa-hin-ta goes a-wooing. 
 Just as men to-day are doing, 
 And the maid with hope and fear 
 Fans the flame with ceaseless cheer. 
 
 And thus he bowed a wifling slave, 
 When first he met love in a cave, 
 Listening to hear the waters sweet 
 Dashing downward at her feet. 
 On-nei-wee-da, child of hght, 
 He made her queen of day and night. 
 
 70 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And she like all the maids of old, 
 Finds out the weakest spot to hold, 
 To make his life a perfect joy, 
 Or crush his spirit like a toy; 
 To mend again with taunting bliss 
 By On-nei-wee-da's tempting kiss. 
 
 On-nei-wee-da, forest flower, 
 Knew not the charm of her own power, 
 'Till in his eyes she saw the flame, 
 That lit response in her's the same. 
 Then from a child she maiden grew, 
 When life in love she sought and knew. 
 
 Timid before as wild gazelle 
 
 Pure as the fawn in forest dell 
 
 She now wakes out of childish thought 
 
 And simply is what Nature wrought 
 
 A flowerette rare of tenderness 
 
 That love awoke to happiness. 
 
 And thus she led and thus he tarried, 
 His soul on fire while she dallied. 
 His heart was rent with joy, then fear. 
 Lest she some other brave would cheer. 
 And so he urges on his suit, 
 With all the ardor of dispute. 
 
 71 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 But On-nei-wee-da, jesting maid, 
 To try his love a plot has laid; 
 Will not hearken to his wooing, 
 Cares not what she sees him doing, 
 Says all we love and most do prize, 
 Is bought by some great sacrifice. 
 
 And so with mischief in her eyes, 
 She taunts him there with cowardice 
 And tells him that she'd test his skill, 
 "To see if he was redman still. 
 For he who weds Pow-ha-tan's heir. 
 Must shoot this eaglet from my hair. 
 
 And I will stand by yonder tree 
 
 And bind the eaglet thus you see; 
 
 Now waver not but go and do 
 
 That I may know your love is true. 
 
 Your chance is first now joy betide 
 
 If you should win come claim your bride." 
 
 So thus dismissed he seeks his home, 
 And by his camp fire weeps alone. 
 Till all at once he brings to mind, 
 A wise old squaw who, nearly blind. 
 Could read the future good or bad, 
 For him she'd see what future had. 
 
 72 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 And so he wanders through the night, 
 To reach her lodge when it is hght. 
 He pacifies her greed of pelf 
 Then questions her with fevered breath, 
 To know if the Great Spirit's wrath, 
 Will send some evil o'er his path. 
 
 Old Quin-ni-pac was very wise, 
 
 And though old time had dimmed her eyes 
 
 She oft could see to read the stars, 
 
 And though her hands were streaked with scars 
 
 She still could mix her charms to woo 
 
 The spirits' help that round her flew. 
 
 And trace the fate of all who turn. 
 To her lodge door and seek to learn 
 What potent charm will cure some ill 
 They luckless have about them still. 
 Told all in love and all in hate. 
 And traced in fire the nation's fate. 
 
 So when he plead she waved her stick 
 And this commenced the black art trick; 
 Stirred up the camp fire with a turn. 
 Then put a reptile where it would burn. 
 Stroked a black cat with loving care. 
 Crooning a song of mystic air. 
 
 73 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 The fire smouldered low at first, 
 Then in a roaring flame it burst, 
 Which made the squaw dance with delight, 
 She poured a liquid on the light; 
 When from the flame an eaglet fleet, 
 Fell down in ashes at her feet. 
 
 Next she threw on a wondering frog, 
 And pinioned him down with a log. 
 Then in the smoke whirled everywhere 
 They saw outlined a maiden fair 
 That floats far up among the trees 
 And quick dissolves 'mid ether seas. 
 
 With stick she traced: *'Your sorely tried 
 
 By one that sent you from her side, 
 
 To test your love with task severe, 
 
 / see you win, so never fear. 
 
 I cut an arrow-head last moon, 
 
 *Twas cut from flint and none too soon. 
 
 I found the stone where geyser spring 
 Comes forth from earth with bubbling ring; 
 'Tis red flint flecked and streaked with white 
 A talisman of wonderous might. 
 'Twill bring to you whate'er you seek 
 As sure as I these words do speak. 
 
 74 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 The maid you seek shall be your bride, 
 This brings good luck whate'er betide, 
 While you this arrow keep at hand, 
 You ne'er shall want for food or land. 
 But should you let it from you go. 
 Then all your luck shall turn to woe. 
 
 For I see a pale-faced nation, 
 Come in canoe across the ocean, 
 Then all the woods sink to decay, 
 And all the game flees fast away. 
 The redman too, when this is done, 
 Seeks a new home beyond the sun. 
 
 I see them leave their hunting ground, 
 I see them leave their burial mound, 
 And sorrowful turn toward the west, 
 With hopeless hearts within their breasts, 
 Questioning the Great Spirit's care. 
 Why they this trial have to bear. 
 
 But keep the arrow close at hand. 
 And all these ills you'll long withstand, 
 Your life like a bright river flow. 
 That leaps all errors, on to go; 
 No obstacles can make it rest, 
 Until it sinks in Ocean's breast." 
 
 75 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 He takes the arrow from her hand 
 
 And speeds him back with joys new planned, 
 
 Then on the day his love is tried, 
 
 His arrow sped and eaglet died. 
 
 And all the braves exultant cried, 
 
 "Brave Star of night now claim your bride. " 
 
 And On-nei-wee-da bowed her head, 
 And from her home a bride was led. 
 While year by year it was the same, 
 Their lodge was filled with princely game, 
 And they with good luck always blest, 
 While he the arrow-head possessed. 
 
 But one day he with careless tact, 
 Forgot the words of Quin-ni-pac, 
 Sped the arrow in jesting mood. 
 To scare a song bird from her brood. 
 'Twas thus he lost the talisman rare. 
 He could not find it anywhere. 
 
 Search where he would, look where he might, 
 'Twas surely hid from out of sight; 
 And now there came the evil day. 
 He saw his bride fade fast away. 
 On-nei-wee-da, best loved of all. 
 What had he done that she must fall 
 
 76 
 
OF^EARLY DAYS. 
 
 Again he seeks old Quin-ni-pac, 
 With fleetest foot o'er trail and track, 
 In hopes that she some charm may give, 
 To let his On-nei-wee-da live. 
 But vain the quest, he hears it said 
 Old Quin-ni-pac has long been dead. 
 
 He turns with sorrow back again. 
 His body full of mocking pain, 
 Searching by night, searching by day, 
 To find out where the arrow lay. 
 'Tis vain! So through the silent wood, 
 He seeks his home in sullen mood. 
 
 To find that life is ebbing slow. 
 And all he loves on earth must go. 
 What were his victories to him 
 With none to watch or welcome him. 
 Here he knelt tearless beside her. 
 Knelt by her couch of richest fur. 
 
 There he watched the fever burn, 
 There he knelt and tried to learn 
 If he by gross neglect had tried 
 To leave some wish ungratified. 
 But no, he sees 'twas always bliss 
 To bring all she would love and wish. 
 
 3^ y. 
 
 77 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 The softest furs for bed and feet, 
 The richest food of game and meat, 
 Cloth of gold with embroidery old, 
 Anklets, belt and rings of gold; 
 With strings of gems to bind the hair, 
 All these he brought with loving care. 
 
 So loving to his heart he pressed her. 
 
 Thus he sought from death to wrest her, 
 
 But she passed from him away, 
 
 Left him sad alone to stay. 
 
 Lost On-nei-wee-da, child of light, 
 
 Sad Os-sa-hin-ta, star of night. 
 
 When the moon with plenty teems 
 And the stars with brightness gleams 
 Then Os-sa-hin-ta sees a shadow, 
 Past his wigwam come and go, 
 Pointing with its shadow hand. 
 To the happy spirit land. 
 
 Thus she came and lured him away, 
 Where he helped in battle fray, 
 There they found him, wounded lying. 
 On the ground they found him dying. 
 Whispering softly "On-nei-wee-da, 
 I come lost love with you to stay." 
 
 78 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 By the side of On-nei-wee-da, 
 Sleeps the warrior Os-sa-hin-ta, 
 And their spirits roam together, 
 Where the happy tribes do gather 
 When the Great Spirit calls his own 
 Beyond, beyond the setting sun. 
 
 Centuries have passed away, 
 Still the song birds sing their lay, 
 Where the sunbeams come and play, 
 O'er the mound where sleeping lay 
 Os-sa-hin-ta, On-nei-wee-da, 
 Gone where hfe is one long day. 
 
 As their lives were here below. 
 So their lives shall onward flow 
 In that home beyond the sun. 
 Now their work on earth is done. 
 Os-sa-hin-ta, star of night. 
 On-nei-wee-da, child of light. 
 
 All the forests now have fled, 
 As Quin-ni-pac had truly said. 
 And the paleface with his plough 
 Turned up the ground, and tells you how 
 He found the long-lost arrow-head, 
 The legend said was white and red. 
 
 79 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 An arrow-head of wonderous make, 
 Which he with joy is glad to take, 
 Red arrow-head streaked o'er with white, 
 For this he knows the Legend's right. 
 And now the story goes that he 
 In finding found prosperity. 
 
 Bacon Northrup of Mandana, Onondaga Co., found the 
 arrow near a spring called Deer Lick. 
 
 80 
 
ODE TO SKANEATELES LAKE. 
 
 Beautiful lake of legends old, 
 
 Where dusky maid and warrior bold 
 
 Roamed at will your forests through, 
 
 Saw your moods, and by them knew 
 
 When the storm king hither flew. 
 
 Saw the sky of azure blue mirrored deeply on thy 
 
 breast. 
 The orb of day, the silver moon, silent saw them 
 
 sink to rest. 
 Let the murmur of thy wave. 
 As they roll thy shores to lave, 
 Whisper to me deeds of yore, 
 I would listen, Ah! Once more, 
 When thy virgin soil with forests grew, 
 And lengthening shadows o'er thy waters threw. 
 Did love and hate fierce struggles hold 
 O'er man and beast, or did they hve like brothers 
 
 in one common fold. 
 Brothers all, the very least? 
 Did poisoned adder his venom hide, 
 When graceful deer came bounding down the side 
 Of craigy chff to slake his thirst? 
 Or listen to the feathered songsters' burst 
 Of woodland music trifling nigh, 
 
 8i 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 Or warbling some rich melody when they did 
 
 homeward fly? 
 Tell me softly, sighing waves, did chieftain | 
 
 In wildest dreams a vision gain "^ 
 
 Of sun-lit fields, of grain and luscious fruit. 
 Gifts to the paleface's toil, a fitting tribute? 
 
 Oh, wanton race, did no prophet seer, 
 Peer through the ages, and thy death knell hear? 
 Where, where are thy records of deeds of fame, 
 Gone like thyself, a myth, a legend thy name ? 
 Whence came thy name, did Jesuit monk or 
 
 priestly fees 
 Call thy beautiful waters Skaneateles? 
 No! No! Through the centuries' mazy veil. 
 The kerchiefed dame tells thy legend tale, 
 How Skaneateles was an Indian maiden fair, 
 A chieftain's only daughter of graces rare. 
 Whose hand was sought by an O-nei-da brave. 
 But her father was cruel as death and the grave. 
 Fierce hate for years, on either side 
 Love's potent spell could not out-ride. 
 Yet then as now love breaks all bars. 
 They often met beneath the stars; 
 Plighted their troth in a thousand ways. 
 Hoping and wishing for better days. 
 
 82 
 
OF EARLY DAYS. 
 
 The legend tells us one stormy night, 
 
 When the moon was hid and gave no light, 
 
 Skaneateles went to meet her brave 
 
 But instead she found a watery grave. 
 
 As she sped along in her light canoe, 
 
 That danced about on the wavelets blue, 
 
 She hears the cuckoo's note and song, 
 
 And her heart beats wild as she flies along. 
 
 For she knows the song is her lover's note 
 
 Calling his love in the rocking boat. 
 
 And she answers the call with Whip-poo-will, 
 
 Which the breezes catch and the wild winds trill. 
 
 But a storm has burst and the thunders wild 
 
 Have sent a bolt to the dauntless child; 
 
 And calm in death she will answer no more, 
 
 Till they meet again on the spirit shore. 
 
 Where hate and sorrow will loose their sting, 
 
 Where life in love shall forever sing. 
 
 Then the warrior brave when he heard the news 
 Threw himself 'neath the waves, so sang the muse. 
 And their spirits forever on the waves do ride 
 When the storm is wild and the stars do hide; 
 When the lightnings gleam to make a chain, 
 Hand in hand they speed thro' dripping rain 
 Back o'er the trail, where their kinfolks sleep, 
 To muse on the past and with the storm king 
 weep. 
 
 S3 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 ******** 
 
 Now the kerchiefed dame goes on the same 
 
 To tell how the waters received their name. 
 
 How when morning came, cold in death she lay 
 
 On a sandy shore in a quiet bay; 
 
 How her father, the chieftain, with grief went wild 
 
 O'er the sad, sad fate of his only child. 
 
 And he buried her there 'neath the forest trees, 
 
 And named the waters Skaneateles. 
 
 Sometimes when the moon makes a bridge of gold, 
 
 A phantom band wild orgies hold 
 
 And seem to dance with the gentle breeze, 
 
 O'er the beautiful waters of Skaneateles; 
 
 Or a phantom chief with its spirit hand 
 
 Comes wildly o'er the golden span, 
 
 And kneeling on the sandy shore, 
 
 He weeps till daylight comes and night is o'er. 
 
 Oh jewel fair on Mother Nature's breast 
 Forever gleam, of all her gems thou art the best. 
 Here let memories of the lingering past, 
 Into the future centuries merge and last, 
 And all thy hills awake, thy waters shine 
 With songs of legendary fame sublime. 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin. 
 
 84 
 
THE LEGEND OF THE INDIAN PIPE * 
 
 By the lake a fmaiden sleeps, 
 O'er her grave her sire weeps, 
 Cruel, cold his acted part, 
 'Till death's arrow ope'd his heart. 
 
 Then he lays his anger down. 
 Calls her from the spirit ground, 
 But the echoes sadly say, 
 Thou forgiveness didst delay. 
 
 'Neath the water's silver sheen 
 Sleeps her lover all unseen. 
 While the rolhng wavelets sing, 
 LuUabyes from spring to spring. 
 
 Moonbeams rest there o'er her grave. 
 Where the chieftain stern and brave 
 Kneeling seeks the Spirit power, 
 For forgiveness through a flower. 
 
 * A rare orchid of pure white, now nearly extinct, 
 f Skaneateles. 
 
 85 
 
INDIAN LEGENDS 
 
 And in answer in the light, 
 Comes two forms in radiance bright, 
 And their clasped hands they place 
 On the grave then seek his face. 
 
 Lo! beneath them he espies. 
 Pure and white a flower arise 
 Like the * Calumet in form 
 It brought peace and quelled the storm. 
 
 Ages long have passed away 
 Since that sad, eventful day, 
 But the legend still keeps bright 
 Through the f "Orchid" pure and white. 
 
 * A pipe of peace. 
 
 t The Indians used to tell that the orchid was the flower Skane- 
 ateles placed on her grave, a token of forgiveness and peace, 
 and when one was found it was preserved with great care 
 and reverence as a token from the Great Spirit, of plenty 
 and forgiveness. 
 
 Nettie Parrish Martin 
 
 86 
 
AUG 8 1905i 
 
\; 
 
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