h-she-ma-de-nog.
Along the shard-strewn shore, a band
Of Chippeway braves had pitched their camp,
To celebrate, with rites of their
Medawe, the flooding season's
Tide of full-grown grain. In and out
Among the shadow-lengthened pines,
Their dusky forms moved, one by one,
To circle silently around
The council fire. And when the tribe
Were gathered all, the day was done;
Its splendor shifted to the Queen
Of Night, that, flushed with triumph, flung
Adown the path of sky, beyond
Mount Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog
A bridge of golden gleams, to lose
Themselves within the darkling depths
Of Lake Vermilion's lifeless bay.

Then Guteba, like Jacob's son,
The favored one of twelve, arose.
No warrior paint his tawny skin
Bedecked, nor eagle plume, nor claw
Of beast adorned his royal head--
Base custom that of vulgar herd.
He wore a girt of wampum, nor
Need had he of other raiment;
For form erect, and sinewy frame
And kindling eye, bespoke the garb
Of manhood.

Thus he addressed them:
"From yonder window, framed in sky,
Swings Ko-go-gau-pa-gon.
The God of Life has placed it there.
Down-hanging from the happy land,
Where spirits go, it forms a bridge,
O'er which all ransomed souls must cross.

[Illustration]

In fineness built, of beam of moon,
It sinks and rolls, my children. But
The light of foot and brave of heart
Fear not. And one thing mark: before
An Indian may touch sole upon
Those gleaming strands of gold, he first
Must navigate the bay, within
Whose darkly deep and treacherous bounds
The water, shamming, seems to sleep,
But only lies, like cunning fox,
To snare unwary passers-by
And hold them from their homeward way.

"The story is not new. It is
Told with every year, as I do tell
It now, when comes Medawe time;
When all the earth was young in youth
The mighty Water reigned thereon
And breath of life was not. Then, here,
Upon the wind was heard a voice
In thunder tones, which said unto
The Water, 'Kitchie Gumme, I
Am Gezha Manitou--of Life
The Master Spirit. Lo! I bid
Thy waves recede. Here, leading up
Past Wey-do-dosh-she-ma-de-nog
Unto the Soul's Hereafter, I
Have established Ke-wa-ku-na.
Thy waters overleap my path
So that my children cannot pass.
Thou'st gone too far. Retreat to serve
Within the spacious metes which I
Have set for thee.' Because the waves
Would not, Gezha Manitou hurled
Them back upon each other, till
They sank deeper and deeper and
Deeper into perpetu