Folk-Lore and Legends: North American Indian | Page 3

and there are
many hills and streams between me and the object of my journey."
"I will go with you," said Ma-mon-dá-go-Kwa.
"The journey is too long," replied her husband, "and you are ill able to
encounter the perils of the way."
"It is not so long but that I will go," answered his wife, "and there are
no dangers I will not share with you."

Moowis returned to the lodge of his master, and told him what had
occurred. For a moment pity took possession of the young man's heart.
He regretted that she whom he so loved should thus have thrown
herself away upon an image, a shadow, when she might have been the
mistress of the best lodge in the camp.
"It is her own folly," he said; "she has turned a deaf ear to the counsels
of prudence. She must submit to her fate."
The same morning Moowis set forth, and his wife followed him at a
distance. The way was rough and intricate, and she found that she could
not keep up with him, he walked so quickly. She struggled hard and
obstinately to overtake him, but Moowis had been for some time out of
sight when the sun rose and commenced upon his snow-formed body
the work of dissolution. He began to melt away and fall to pieces. As
Ma-mon-dá-go-Kwa followed in his track she found piece after piece
of his clothing in the path. She first found his mittens, then his
moccasins, then his leggings, then his coat, and after that other parts of
his garments. As the heat unbound them the clothes also returned to
their filthy condition. Over rocks, through wind-falls, across marshes,
Ma-mon-dá-go-Kwa pursued him she loved. The path turned aside in
all directions. Rags, bones, leather, beads, feathers, and soiled ribbons
she found, but caught no sight of Moowis. She spent the day in
wandering, and when evening came she was still alone. The snow
having now melted, she had completely lost her husband's track, and
she wandered about uncertain which way to go and in a state of perfect
despair. At length with bitter cries she lamented her fate.
"Moowis, Moowis," she cried, "nin ge won e win ig, ne won e win
ig!"--"Moowis, Moowis, you have led me astray, you are leading me
astray!"
With this cry she wandered in the woods.
The cry of the lost Ma-mon-dá-go-Kwa is sometimes repeated by the
village girls who have made of it a song--
Moowis! Moowis! Forest rover, Where art thou? Ah! my bravest,

gayest lover, Guide me now.
Moowis! Moowis! Ah! believe me, List my moan: Do not, do not,
brave heart, leave me All alone.
Moowis! Moowis! Footprints vanished! Whither wend I? Fated, lost,
detested, banished Must I die!
Moowis! Moowis! Whither goest thou, Eye-bright lover? Ah! thou
ravenous bird that knowest, I see thee hover,
Circling, circling As I wander, And at last When I fall thou then wilt
come And feed upon my breast.

THE GIRL WHO MARRIED THE PINE-TREE.
Upon the side of a certain mountain grew some pines, under the shade
of which the Puckwudjinies, or sprites, were accustomed to sport at
times. Now it happened that in the neighbourhood of these trees was a
lodge in which dwelt a beautiful girl and her father and mother. One
day a man came to the lodge of the father, and seeing the girl he loved
her, and said--
"Give me Leelinau for my wife," and the old man consented.
Now it happened that the girl did not like her lover, so she escaped
from the lodge and went and hid herself, and as the sun was setting she
came to the pine-trees, and leaning against one of them she lamented
her hard fate. On a sudden she heard a voice, which seemed to come
from the tree, saying--
"Be my wife, maiden, beautiful Leelinau, beautiful Leelinau."
The girl was astonished, not knowing whence the voice could have
come. She listened again, and the words were repeated, evidently by
the tree against which she leaned. Then the maid consented to be the
wife of the pine-tree.

Meanwhile her parents had missed her, and had sent out parties to see if
she could be found, but she was nowhere.
Time passed on, but Leelinau never returned to her home. Hunters who
have been crossing the mountain, and have come to the trees at sunset,
say that they have seen a beautiful girl there in company with a
handsome youth, who vanished as they approached.

A LEGEND OF MANABOZHO.
Manabozho made the land. The occasion of his doing so was this.
One day he went out hunting with two wolves. After the first day's hunt
one of the wolves left him and went to the left, but the