Birch Bark Legends of Niagara | Page 7

Can War Eagle's spirit leave his friend to receive the torture of the
condemned and be tossed in those dark whirling waters forever? No; I
hear his moans mingle threateningly with the roar of the Manitou's
voice. His spirit cannot rise to the beautiful path while his friends are
prisoners to his people. Would you leave War Eagle forever hovering
over the turbulent waters? Who will cut the thongs and set the spirit of
War Eagle free by freeing his friends?"
The wild cries of the multitude were stilled by the long protracted howl
of Black Snake as he sprung in front of the Chiefs. With a dexterous

flourish of his tomahawk he separated the thongs, liberated the
prisoners, and with a wave of his hand commanded silence, while,
shouting in a loud voice, he replied to the old Sachem:
"Our father asks who bound War Eagle's friends! It was the spirits of
darkness that blinded his childrens' eyes to the color of Grey Eagle, and
whispered in their ears, 'they are enemies.' It was the spirit of darkness
that killed War Eagle and whispered in the ears of his braves, 'revenge
his death.' It is the voice of the good Manitou that whispered to the
Great Oak, and he has saved his children from the Manitou's wrath and
freed the spirit of War Eagle." This ingenious speech showed the
cunning of some candidates for office even in those early times, and
had the desired effect of winning the confidence of many of his dusky
auditors. Long talks followed within the circle by the Chiefs, while
preparations were being made for feast and dance around the council
fire that night.
Aye, Niagara! thou didst lull with thy awful and solemn voice as
anxious and also as happy hearts beneath the soft furs that wrapped
those dusky maidens--mingling their sweet voices with thy deep bass,
dancing beneath the old trees on thy wild banks--as any there have been
since in the princely halls where the old trees once stood, beneath silks
and diamonds, that rival thy beautiful drops, to music that drowns for a
time thine own tremendous voice.
The attention of the Chiefs being directed to Grey Eagle, the youthful
Chief stepped lightly but proudly in front of them. His manner plainly
indicated him a brave warrior and hunter. As he spoke of his people,
now nearly exterminated, he pointed out to the council the necessity,
and expressed his willingness, of merging their existence in that of
another tribe. Many looked upon him with sympathy and regard.
Speaking of the foes of his people, his dark eyes lighted up with
contemplated revenge-- his mouth curled with contempt. He called
them snakes with forked tongues; he wished to drive them from the
ever green and pleasant valley of his fathers; he wished to share the
land with his brothers of the snowy hills. He proved his skill as an
orator by swaying the minds of his hearers, and amidst great rejoicing
stepped back to the side of his own braves.
The old Sachem looked at him encouragingly, while the shy Fawn,
gathering up her no longer neglected wampum, bounded away to

mingle with the Indian maidens, followed by the devoted wolf, and the
affectionate eyes of her father and of many admiring braves.
The feast and dance continued long into the night; but sunrise found the
warriors and braves straightening their arrows and sharpening their
stony points and newly cording with sinews their idle bows, withing the
heads of their tomahawks, war-clubs and spears. Great and earnest
preparations were made to follow the river in its noisy course past its
dark whirling basin, down the stony mountain to where it mingles its
wild dancing waves with the calm and beautiful lake, bringing only the
faintest murmurs of the great falling waters to their favorite hunting
grounds.
Within that valley, before the sun drops beneath the bright waves of
Ontario, will be decided by individual skill, unassisted by friendly
influence, the right between Black Snake and his adopted brother, Grey
Eagle, to fill the place made vacant by the death of War Eagle.
This was the decision of the women. Among the Indians genealogy is
reckoned on the mother's side alone; and, therefore, the important
business of selecting a candidate to fill the place of War Eagle, who left
no near relative, devolved upon the women, who decided the successful
combatant was to be the future War Chief of the tribe and claim the
wampum with the old Sachem's dark-eyed daughter.
Sympathy was pictured in most of the faces of those dark warriors,
when passing the Great Oak's wigwam they beheld the moist eyes and
tender leave-taking of that heroic old Chief and his motherless child,
whose future depended so much on the coming