Myths and Legends of Our Own Land, vol 2 | Page 6

at Coram, he troubled the people of the country for many years,
so that between the devil on the west and the Montauks on the east they
were plagued indeed; for though their guard at Watch Hill, Rhode
Island, and other places often apprised them of the coming of the
Montauks, they never knew which way to look for the devil.

THE SPRINGS OF BLOOD AND WATER
A great drought had fallen on Long Island, and the red men prayed for
water. It is true that they could get it at Lake Ronkonkoma, but some of
them were many miles from there, and, beside, they feared the spirits at
that place: the girl who plied its waters in a phosphor-shining birch,
seeking her recreant lover; and the powerful guardians that the Great
Spirit had put in charge to keep the fish from being caught, for these
fish were the souls of men, awaiting deliverance into another form. The
people gathered about their villages in bands and besought the Great
Spirit to give them drink. His voice was heard at last, bidding their
chief to shoot an arrow into the air and to watch where it fell, for there
would water gush out. The chief obeyed the deity, and as the arrow
touched the earth a spring of sweet water spouted into the air. Running
forward with glad cries the red men drank eagerly of the liquor, laved
their faces in it, and were made strong again; and in memory of that
event they called the place the Hill of God, or Manitou Hill, and Manet
or Manetta Hill it is to this day. Hereabouts the Indians settled and
lived in peace, thriving under the smile of their deity, making wampum
for the inland tribes and waxing rich with gains from it. They made the
canal from bay to sea at Canoe Place, that they might reach open water

without dragging their boats across the sand- bars, and in other ways
they proved themselves ingenious and strong.
When the English landed on the island they saw that the Indians were
not a people to be trifled with, and in order to properly impress them
with their superiority, they told them that John Bull desired a treaty
with them. The officers got them to sit in line in front of a cannon, the
nature of which instrument was unknown to them, and during the talk
the gun was fired, mowing down so many of the red people that the
survivors took to flight, leaving the English masters at the north shore,
for this heartless and needless massacre took place at Whale's Neck. So
angry was the Great Spirit at this act of cruelty and treachery that he
caused blood to ooze from the soil, as he had made water leap for his
thirsting children, and never again would grass grow on the spot where
the murder had been done.

THE CRUMBLING SILVER
There is a clay bank on Little Neck, Long Island, where metallic
nodules are now and then exposed by rain. Rustics declare them to be
silver, and account for their crumbling on the theory that the metal is
under a curse. A century ago the Montauks mined it, digging over
enough soil to unearth these pellets now and again, and exchanging
them at the nearest settlements for tobacco and rum. The seeming
abundance of these lumps of silver aroused the cupidity of one
Gardiner, a dweller in the central wilderness of the island, but none of
the Indians would reveal the source of their treasure. One day Gardiner
succeeded in getting an old chief so tipsy that, without realizing what
he was doing, he led the white man to the clay bed and showed him the
metallic spots glittering in the sun. With a cry of delight Gardiner
sprang forward and tore at the earth with his fingers, while the Indian
stood by laughing at his eagerness.
Presently a shade crosssed the white man's face, for he thought that this
vast treasure would have to be shared by others. It was too much to
endure. He wanted all. He would be the richest man on earth. Stealing
behind the Indian as he stood swaying and chuckling, he wrenched the
hatchet from his belt and clove his skull at a blow. Then, dragging the
body to a thicket and hiding it under stones and leaves, he hurried to his
house for cart and pick and shovel, and returning with speed he dug out

a half ton of the silver before sunset. The cart was loaded, and he set
homeward, trembling with excitement and conjuring bright visions for
his future, when a wailing sound from a thicket made him halt and turn
pale. Noiselessly a figure glided from the bush. It was