visions," said the youth. "It is Mondamin; it is the spirit's grain," said the father. And this was the origin of Indian-corn.

SHINGEBISS: A CHIPPEWA ALLEGORY.

"There was once a poor man called Shingebiss, living alone in a solitary lodge on the shores of a deep bay, in a large lake. Now this man, as his name implies, was a duck when he chose to be, and a man the next moment it was only necessary to will himself the one or the other. It was cold winter weather, and this duck ought to have been off with the rest of his species towards the South, where the streams and lakes are open all winter, and where food is easily got; but the power he had of changing himself into a man when he wished, made him linger till every stream was frozen over, and the snow lay deep over all the land.

"The blasts of winter now howled fiercely around his poor wigwam, and he had only four logs of wood to keep his fire during the whole winter. But he was cheerful, manly, and trustful, relied on himself, and cared very little for anybody, beyond treating kindly all who called on him; and as he always had something to offer them to eat, he was treated with much respect and consideration by his people.

"How he managed to live nobody knew. It was a perfect mystery to every one. The ice was very thick on the streams and the weather was intensely cold; yet, on the coldest day, when every one thought he must starve and freeze, he would go out to places where flags and reeds grew up through the ice, and changing himself to a duck, pluck them up with his bill, and, diving through the orifice, supply himself plentifully with fish.

"The hardihood, independence, and resources of Shingebiss vexed Kabibonocca, the god who sends cold and storms, and he determined to freeze him out and kill him for his obstinacy. Why,' said he, he must be a wonderful man; he does not mind the coldest days, but seems to be as happy and content as if it were strawberry time. I will give him cold blasts to his heart's content.' So saying, he poured forth tenfold colder winds and deeper snows, and made the air so sharp that it cut like a knife. Still the fire of Shingebiss, poorly supplied as it was, did not go out. He did not even put on more clothing-for he had but a single strip of skins about his body-while walking on the ice in the coldest days, carrying home loads of fish.

"Shall he withstand me?' said Kabibonocca one day; 'I will go and visit him, and see wherein his great power lies. If my presence does not freeze him, he must be made of rock.' Accordingly, that very night, when

the wind blew furiously, he came to his lodge door and listened. Shingebiss had cooked his meal of fish and finished his supper, and was lying on his elbow, singing this song:

"The hunter knew that Kabibonocca was at his door, but affected utter indifference, and went on singing. At length Kabibonocca, not to be defeated in his object, entered the wigwam and took his seat, without saying a word, opposite to him. But Shingebiss put on an air of the most profound repose. Not a look or change of muscle indicated that he heard the storm or was sensible of the cold. Neither did he seem aware of the presence of his powerful guest. But taking his poker as if no one were present he stirred the embers to make them burn brighter, and then reclining as before again sang,

"Windy God, I know your plan.'

"Very soon the tears ran down Kabibonocca's face, and increased so fast that he presently said to himself, 'I cannot stand this; the fellow will melt me if I do not go out.' He went, leaving the imperturbable Shingebiss to the enjoyment of his song, but resolving, at the same time, that he would put a stop to his music. He then poured forth his very fiercest blasts, and made the air so cold that it froze up every flag orifice, and increased the ice to such a thickness that it drove Shingebiss from all his fishing-grounds. Still, by going a greater distance and to deep water, he contrived to get the means of subsistence, and managed to live. His four logs of wood gave him plenty of fire, and the few fish he got satisfied him, for he ate them with cheerfulness and contentment. At last Kabibonocca was compelled to give up the contest, and exclaimed, "He must be some monedo (spirit). I can neither freeze him nor starve him. I will let him alone.""

THE GREAT SNAKE OF CANANDAIGUA LAKE: AN IROQUOIS TRADITION.

Nundowaga Hill, which looks down upon the waters of Canandaigua Lake, was once completely encircled by an enormous snake. The people

of the hill, alarmed for their safety, resolved one day, in solemn council, that the snake must die on the following morning.

"Just as the day was breaking, the monstrous reptile was seen at the base of the hill, closing every avenue of escape, its huge jaws wide open just before the gate-way. Vigorously did the whole tribe assail it, but neither arrows, spears, nor knives could be made to penetrate its scaly sides. Some of the frightened people endeavored to escape by climbing over it, but were thrown violently back, rolled upon, and crushed. Others, in their mad efforts, rushing into its very jaws, were devoured. Terrified, the tribe recoiled, and did not renew the attack till hunger gave them courage for a last desperate assault, in which all perished and were swallowed, except a woman and her two children, who escaped into the forest, while the monster, gorged with its horrible feast, was sleeping.

"In her hiding-place the woman, by a vision, was instructed to make arrows of a peculiar form, and taught how to use them effectually for the killing of the destroyer of her tribe. Believing that the Great Spirit was her teacher, she made the arrows, and carefully following the directions she had received, she confidently approached the yet sleeping monster, and successfully planted the arrows in its heart. The snake, in its agony, lashed the hill-side with its enormous tail, tore deep gullies in the earth, broke down forests, and rolling down the slope, plunged into the lake. Here, in the waters near the shore, it disgorged its many human victims, and then, with one great convulsive throe, sank slowly to the bottom. Rejoiced at the death of her enemy, the happy woman hastened with her children to the banks of the Canesedage Lake, and from them sprung the powerful Seneca nation."

The Indians affirm that the rounded pebbles, of the size and shape of the human head, to this day so numerous on the shores of the Canandaigua Lake, are the petrified skulls of the people of the hill, disgorged by the great snake in its death agony.

THE

II.

EARLY EUROPEAN INTERCOURSE WITH THE INDIANS.

HE discovery of an unknown continent and of a new race of men was the exploit and wonder of the age.

1492.

Princes dreamed of vast additions to their domains; priests of the conversion of heathen nations and the enlargement of their spiritual possessions; merchants speculated upon the prospect of a profitable trade with the natives; while poets sung of the new El Dorado as of a heaven upon earth, a land of inexhaustible fertility and riches. But neither seer nor statesman, priest nor poet, was able to foresee the future of this continent. No one dreamed that this remote and savage wilderness was soon to become the seat of flourishing and powerful communities, or that it was the chosen arena for the full and unchecked development of human progress and freedom.

Strange stories were told of this new world. Its northern shores were said to be infested by griffins, while two islands north of Newfoundland were known as the Isles of Demons, whose occupants were pictured with wings, horns, and tail. An early geographer wrote that he had heard from many who had voyaged that way that "they heard in the air, in the tops and about the masts, a great clamor of men's voices, confused and inarticulate, such as you may hear from the crowd at a fair or marketplace, whereupon they well knew that the Isles of Demons was not far off."

By the first voyagers the natives were found to be simple, hospitable, and friendly. Soon, however, they learned to fear and distrust the strangers, who took every advantage of their ignorance and kindness. The different tribes were found to be widely scattered, many of them in a state of hostility to their neighbors.

Columbus and other early voyagers took some of the natives with them on their return to Europe. Three presented to Henry VII. by Sebastian Cabot, in 1502, were the first Indians seen in England. Those

first taken to France were brought thither by Captain Aubert six years later.

From time to time others were kidnapped and sold into slavery, and conflicts between them and their European visitors became frequent. The frauds and injuries of which they were the victims were not forgotten by the natives, but were eventually returned by them with interest.

One of these acts of barbarity is thus related by Captain John Smith, with whom my readers will soon become better acquainted.

"One Thomas Hunt, the master of this ship, when I was gone, betrayed four-and-twenty of these poor salvages aboard his ship, and most

dishonestly and inhumanly, for their kind usage of me and all our men, carried them with him to Malaga, and there, for a little private gain, sold these silly salvages. But this vile act kept him ever after from any more employment in those parts."

When we learn what the clergy of that day thought of the poor Indian, we can better understand the infamous conduct of these cruel man-stealers. "We may guess," says that eminent divine of New England, Rev. Cotton Mather, "that probably the devil decoyed these miserable salvages hither, in hopes that the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ would never come here to destroy or disturb his absolute empire over them."

Columbus says of the natives of the West Indies, "We found them timid, and full of fear, very simple and honest, and exceedingly liberal, none of them refusing anything he may possess when asked for it. Like idiots-they bartered cotton and gold for fragments of glasses, bottles, and jars, which I forbade as being unjust, and myself gave them many beautiful and acceptable articles which I had brought with me, taking nothing from them in return."

Upon his first arrival, Columbus took some of the natives by force,