s, indeed, impossible to follow the counsel of the friendly Manito.
Sleeping or waking the image of Leelinau swam before his eyes, and
sometimes smiled as if to incite him to the enterprise.

He resolved to undertake a solemn fast. He therefore sought a retired
place and built a pointed lodge.

Six days and nights he fasted, lying on the ground, and on the seventh
day, at the rising of the sun, his guardian spirit, the child with
the white beaver, slowly descended from the sky. His face was kind and
gentle as at the first, but not as before did he lay his hand on the
heart of Wampum-hair. Now he pressed his palm upon the forehead of the
hunter, and strange thoughts and determinations, like rising storms,
passed through his mind: slowly, then, up through the pointed roof,
which opened for his passage, mounted the child till he disappeared in
the blue field.

Magisaunikwa arose from the ground, and a frown was upon his brow. He
ate and was refreshed, and returned to his lodge.

It was the last month of snows, and great rains had fallen, and the
torrents were shouting from the mountains, and the Yaupaae pouring out
a mightier flood than had ever been seen rushing through between
the cleft rocks. It was then Wampum-hair announced his intention to
undertake the adventure of the Falls, and invited the tribe to gather
together to witness its performance. It is said that the heart of
Leelinau, touched by so much constancy, was inclined to relent and
excuse her lover the terrible ordeal, but this is probably the dream
of some soft-hearted girl, and only indicates what she would have done
in like circumstances.

On the day selected, the tribe was collected at the outpouring of the
waters, to witness the achievement of Magisaunikwa, and lament his
death. In great numbers they lined the banks of the stream, seeking
those positions from which the best views could be obtained, while his
friends watched at the foot of the cataract in canoes to rescue the
body should it be thrown up by the raging water. Leelinau, too, was
there, unyielding, yet proud of a devotion unheard of in the annals
of her nation. She looked haughtily as on a spectacle devised in her
honor, of which she should be celebrated as the heroine, long after
her feet should have travelled the path that leads to the Spirit-land.
No regret for the destruction to which her lover was doomed appeared
to touch her heart, nor did pity moisten her eyes as she looked upon
t