Myths and Legends of Our Own Land, vol 1 | Page 4

flinging them to the
winds. Woe betide the valley residents if they showed irreverence, for
then the clouds were black and heavy, and through them she poured
floods of rain and launched the lightnings, causing disastrous freshets
in the streams and blasting the wigwams of the mockers. In a frolic
humor she would take the form of a bear or deer and lead the Indian
hunters anything but a merry dance, exposing them to tire and peril,
and vanishing or assuming some terrible shape when they had
overtaken her. Sometimes she would lead them to the cloves and would
leap into the air with a mocking "Ho, ho!" just as they stopped with a
shudder at the brink of an abyss. Garden Rock was a spot where she
was often found, and at its foot a lake once spread. This was held in
such awe that an Indian would never wittingly pursue his quarry there;

but once a hunter lost his way and emerged from the forest at the edge
of the pond. Seeing a number of gourds in crotches of the trees he took
one, but fearing the spirit he turned to leave so quickly that he stumbled
and it fell. As it broke, a spring welled from it in such volume that the
unhappy man was gulfed in its waters, swept to the edge of Kaaterskill
clove and dashed on the rocks two hundred and sixty feet below. Nor
did the water ever cease to run, and in these times the stream born of
the witch's revenge is known as Catskill Creek.

THE REVENGE OF SHANDAKEN
On the rock platform where the Catskill Mountain House now stands,
commanding one of the fairest views in the world, old chief Shandaken
set his wigwam,--for it is a mistake to suppose that barbarians are
indifferent to beauty,--and there his daughter, Lotowana, was sought in
marriage by his braves. She, however, kept faith to an early vow
exchanged with a young chief of the Mohawks. A suitor who was
particularly troublesome was Norsereddin, proud, morose,
dark-featured, a stranger to the red man, a descendant, so he claimed,
from Egyptian kings, and who lived by himself on Kaaterskill Creek,
appearing among white settlements but rarely.
On one of his visits to Catskill, a tavern-lounging Dutchman wagered
him a thousand golden crowns that he could not win Lotowana, and,
stung by avarice as well as inflamed by passion, Norsereddin laid new
siege to her heart. Still the girl refused to listen, and Shandaken
counselled him to be content with the smiles of others, thereby so
angering the Egyptian that he assailed the chief and was driven from
the camp with blows; but on the day of Lotowana's wedding with the
Mohawk he returned, and in a honeyed speech asked leave to give a
jewel to the bride to show that he had stifled jealousy and ill will. The
girl took the handsome box he gave her and drew the cover, when a
spring flew forward, driving into her hand the poisoned tooth of a
snake that had been affixed to it. The venom was strong, and in a few
minutes Lotowana lay dead at her husband's feet.
Though the Egyptian had disappeared into the forest directly on the
acceptance of his treacherous gift, twenty braves set off in pursuit, and
overtaking him on the Kalkberg, they dragged him back to the rock
where father and husband were bewailing the maid's untimely fate. A

pile of fagots was heaped within a few feet of the precipice edge, and
tying their captive on them, they applied the torch, dancing about with
cries of exultation as the shrieks of the wretch echoed from the cliffs.
The dead girl was buried by the mourning tribe, while the ashes of
Norsereddin were left to be blown abroad. On the day of his revenge
Shandaken left his ancient dwelling-place, and his camp-fires never
glimmered afterward on the front of Ontiora.

CONDEMNED TO THE NOOSE
Ralph Sutherland, who, early in the last century, occupied a stone
house a mile from Leeds, in the Catskills, was a man of morose and
violent disposition, whose servant, a Scotch girl, was virtually a slave,
inasmuch as she was bound to work for him without pay until she had
refunded to him her passage-money to this country. Becoming weary of
bondage and of the tempers of her master, the girl ran away. The man
set off in a raging chase, and she had not gone far before Sutherland
overtook her, tied her by the wrists to his horse's tail, and began the
homeward journey. Afterward, he swore that the girl stumbled against
the horse's legs, so frightening the animal that it rushed off madly,
pitching him out of the saddle and dashing the servant to