e the caresses of the Eleventh Man and the
Squaw-Snake, and luckily they were not interrupted by the old man,
who, unlike many husbands I have known, contrived to sleep just as
long as they wished he should. Before he awaked, it had been agreed
between them that the death of the old man should be accomplished. So
she bade him dip in the poison of her sting the points of two arrows,
both intended to be put to a good use. He did so, and then retired
within the fortification. Drawing his bow to his ear, and pointing an
arrow at the head of the aged husband, he let fly with unerring skill.
This done, he levelled the other arrow with the same precision at the
head of the faithless wife. Wounded to death by the poisoned darts,
the horrid monsters rolled down the hill in great agony, sweeping
away, in their descent, all the trees upon the side to its very
bottom, and amidst their contortions disgorging the heads of the
Indians they had swallowed. Those heads rolled into Lake Canandaigua,
where they were converted into stones, and are to be found there to
this day. The Indian, as seated in his canoe he glides over the lake,
frequently sees them lying on its pebbly bottom, and the larger bark
of the white man is often dashed to pieces against them. So the eleven
men and the ten women were freed from the serpents.

But now it was that the strangest circumstance was revealed to the
survivors. The poison which the serpents had poured on the earth with
their pernicious breath had so operated that a confusion of tongues
had taken place, and different nations no longer understood each
other. The Iroquois could no longer speak in the dialect of the
Natchez; the Bomelmeeks of the land of Frost no longer sung their
war-songs in the tongue of the Walkullas of the land of Flowers. The
Senecas attempted in vain to make known their wishes to the Red
Hurons of the Lakes, who were alike puzzled to converse with the
Narragansetts of the Land of Fish. A youth of one nation, if he wished
to take a woman of another nation to wife, had now to talk with his
eyes, whereas before he made use of his tongue to tell his lies with.

So the land was re-peopled from the survivors of the hill Gerundewagh,
and the confusion of tongues went on increasing, and has done so to
this day. The Bomelmeeks have faded from the land; the descendants of
the Eleventh Man, of whom there were very many, alone remaining, one
of whom now tells this story, which is certainly