Birch Bark Legends of Niagara | Page 6

Snake and his few followers scowled revengefully, though
not daring to reply. The Sachem continued:
"The Great Oak can no longer overshadow and protect his people--can
no longer preserve the ceremonies of his fathers. His strength has gone,
and his counsels fall to the ground like the branches of the dying tree;
he is needed here no more. When my children next fill a canoe for the
Manitou, place the old tree and all belonging to him in it. The tired
birds that have flown to him for rest he can no longer protect, and it is
time his people burned him down out of the way, that the saplings may
find more room to grow. Let the arrows and tomahawk of Great Oak be
prepared for the Manitou--he would pass from his people forever."
With the last words he moved slowly from the circle, and, placing
himself by the side of his daughter, closed his eyes, manifesting his
resignation of all interest in their present or future state. An appealing
wail from the multitude brought several Chiefs to their feet.
"Our father must not leave us; his voice is the voice of wisdom; when
his childrens' ears drink lies and their counsels are foolish the wind
brings truth to the ears of Great Oak; they will fade away when Great
Oak's shadows are withdrawn. Can his children feast and dance when
their father hides his face with shame? The Manitou has counseled the
Great Oak in his sleep; the women are in tears, and the young men are
silent. We have spoken, and we wait for the voice of our Sachem."
"Why do my children wait for the voice of a Chief, whose words fall
like leaves in the cold blast to be trod on by boys?"
"The words of the Great Oak, like the leaves, can bury the people. Let
our father speak to the hearts of his children that they may know what
to do. Has the wind whispered in the ear of our father and he tells not
his children their story? We listen for the voice of our Chief." The old
Sachem slowly opened his eyes and once more rose to his feet,
standing erect in front of the tree whose name he bore, where still, with
the wolf stretched at her feet, the Gentle Fawn remained seated.
Without deigning a glance upon the multitude, but looking in the
distance, as if invoking unseen aid from the air or sky, dropping their
figurative language, he spoke in a low, prophetic tone.
"Yes, there has been whispering in the ears of your Chief. He shut his
eyes on all around him, and opened them on a sunny spot, far off,

where the rivers know no ice and the moccasin never tracks in the snow.
There were more wigwams than he could count, filled with happy
people. He saw a band of braves as straight as the pines of their forest
go on a long path to get furs and meat for their people. After moons of
success they joyfully returned; but not to hear the voice of their fathers
or ever to see their faces again. The hand of the foe had spared none;
their homes were in ashes; their friends sent without food or presents
on their long journey to the Manitou's hunting-ground. I saw these tired,
sad hunters gather the scattered bones and relics of their tribe in a large
circle, placing plenty of furs and food, with pipes, beads and arrows in
the center, and cover them high with stones and earth that wild beasts
could not move. And they placed the Manitou's mark on this mound
that no foe would dare to desecrate. Then turning their faces from their
once happy home they sought a new one, and people to help them
revenge this deed and recover their land. Winding their way to the land
of snow and ice they saw approaching a band of warriors covered with
emblems of peace, and, leaving their stony weapons in care of the
younger braves, they walked open-handed to meet the strangers. War
Eagle stood foremost among them. While passing the calumet
[Footnote: Pipe of peace.] of friendship their ears were deafened with
the war-whoop from many mouths. A tomahawk flew swiftlier and
deadlier than an arrow and hid itself in the head of War Eagle."
Then, turning his eyes upon the multitude, he would question, and,
looking off in the distance, in the same prophetic voice answer:
"Did the tomahawk fly with the stranger's hand? They came
open-handed-- left their weapons behind them. Did any of War Eagle's
braves protect him while his spirit was passing on its long journey? No;
the arms of yonder brave protected him until they were bound, to his
side.