Legends of Devil's Lake

A Legend of Devil's Lake Nestled close down between wild, rocky hills, And back from it, with a gentle swell, Feeding no rivers, and fed from no rills, Stretches a forest, where song birds dwell, Devil's Lake lies like a jewel rare, And squirrels play in the checkered shade Dropped from the ocean's casket there. By its Maple boughs, and old Oaks made. Here, in those years of which we are told, On the stern gray rocks--they'd forgotten where-- So many legends and stories old, By wandering nymphs of the upper air. But, though forgotten, and bound to the place, Camped for a while a roving band By the unyielding clasp of its shore's rude embrace, Of Indians, by the lakelet's strand, And, with the maidens of the tribe, Like a sad, prisoned spirit, it still seemed to be Bathed in its crystal water Ever murmuring low for its home in the sea; Ke-she-ah-ben-o-qua, (The Early Dawn) their chieftain's only And in pity, perchance, for the painful unrest, daughter. That at times heaved so wildly its beautiful breast, Slender her form, her motions full of grace, Pines have grown up midst the rocks on its shore, As full of strange dark beauty her delicate young face-- And whispers to it of the ocean's deep roar, Dark as though a shadow from the midnight of her hair, As fanciful breezes, with fingers unseen, Enamoured by its loveliness, was softly sleeping there. Toss their dark boughs into wavelets of green. But grace of form and feature were lost in sweet surprise Like time-worn battlements, crumbling away, When the gazer felt the liquid light that trembled from her eyes; Whose dark sides with lichens are softened and gray, So much of soul was in the look, so arch and yet so innocent, And over whose fragments of wave sharpen stone T'was love and timid play fullness in one expression blent. A soft smile of verdure is gracefully thrown. Yet oft that deeper light would steal into her eyes, Stand bluffs, that, like Titans, their feet in the tide, Which speaks of depth of feeling, boundless as mid-sea skies, Seem guarding with vigilance all save one side When listening the wild music the woodland birds would make, Of this crystalline lake ---here it's prisoning band Or the low whispered murmurings, the wavelets of the lake. Is as fair as though formed by a sea-nymph's hand, Of feathery willows, and wave-washed sand; - 1 - About Section NN

Legends of Devil's Lake

Down through the regal woods of June, Whose hills, arrayed in fadeless green, The sun poured fierce the heat of noon. Departed spirits wander o'er? All life had fled the open glade, And even in the deepest shade, The eve dispelled the mystery, as she drew near the camp, A hunter who had thither strayed, Just as the faint new moon lit up her silver crescent lamp, By some strange freak of fate or chance, Smoking the pipe of peace, close by her father's side, From far off, sunny, vine-wreathed France, Was that strange face she'd seen, that form of regal pride!

For sight of living creatures sighed, She rather felt, than saw his eyes rise from her father's face At length the waters of the lake he spied-- To read the sweet confusion that lent her cheeks new grace. Its hills all blue as though a veil of azure from the sky As trembling, she hastened to seek the wigwam's shade, Had dropped between their tree-tops green, Ere her timid heart's emotion to the stranger was betrayed. And his expectant eye. The months rolled by, the autumn came, yet still the hunter staid, He hastened on with quickened pace, impatient to survey, As wondering as the Indians there, their camp -- his own -- he This new-found gem of loveliness dropped sudden in his way-- made. But pauses, for a form of grace starts up before him, fair as dream With them he chased the slender deer, and trapped the grim black bear, Of twilight, crowned as evening's queen Engaged in every dangerous feat, a fearless soul might dare: With stars and pearly dew. With the glory of his deeds, his skills in every art, One startled glance from her soft eyes, Had won the envy or the love of every dusky heart. And, while yet lost in pleased surprise, she vanished from his And one heart more than all the rest watched for the even tide view, To call him from the chase, to linger by her side. And left him wondering if some sprite --- The guardian of the wave--- had not just vanished from his sight to seek her mystic cave! To lay some trifle in her hand, per chance, A single flower, And she, Ke-she-ah-ben-o-qua, fled to a deeper shade, Or bird, with sun bright plumage, To question why so strange a face appeared to her, Caught in some woodland bower. A simple maid, at such a time, in such a place. Was it some form that she had seen returned to earth from You'd have known why the early dawning that fair shore? Had given to her its name, - 2 -

Legends of Devil's Lake

By her cheek so like Aurora's Its haunting memories seemed to wake, When lit by the dawn's first flame, And though the night was silver bright, And every wave was gilt with light, When his steps, making music, were heard in the wood, And she knew in a moment more Their murmur seemed a captive's sigh His shadow would fall on the grass where she stood, Or some low dirge's melody Close by the wigwam door. And through the eve she seemed to hear The breathing of a presence near, One night she parted from his side, And strayed along the shore Oh! Had the form she most should dread, Where in the moonlight's silver tide, Windago, first in every chase, she'd wandered oft before-- The warrior of the stern, dark face, Whose lengthened gaze she'd ever fled, Oft, when her heart had known no thought Haunted their moonlit trysting place! Beyond the pearly shell, The wave's soft rippling o're the lake, When early morn, with dewy lips, Washed landward by their swell. First kissed the slumbering lake, And smiled to see the sleeping wave But now her heart was far too full In dimpling ripples wake, Of a great new found joy. To think of vanished scenes or hours Each lover sought the chieftain's side Of childhood and its toy; To ask the maiden as his bride; For on her lips burned love's first kiss, The one, with all that hate could paint And life for her had known no hour Stamped on each dusky lineament, More perfect in its bliss. Showing the maid's foreboding true Yet though so happy, was it fear, In every glance his fierce eyes threw Or some foreboding shadow near, Upon the other, who like stone, That kept within her joyous breast Scarce curved his lips in quiet scorn. A vague strange feeling of unrest? The chief possessed one passion--pride- The wind, in whispering to the lake, All others in his breast had died,

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Legends of Devil's Lake

A hill-top fortress, crowned with pines, Or in this one were lost. The looked for cliff against the sky reclines. Love never had his bosom stirred-- He felt no meaning in the word, Not long the silence was unbroke; The question, then, within his mind, Pointing toward it, the chieftain spoke- Was not which suitor was most kind-- "He shall, the chosen suitor be, Which loved his daughter most; Who first from the boughs of yonder tree

But which, as hunter, could exceed An unfledged Eaglet shall bring me," The other in some daring deed, Scarce had they heard the Chief's reply He paused a moment. In a tree Ere they had flung their blankets bye, Towering high, o'er a cliff, And reached their boats upon the strand.

He'd seen an Eagle seek her nest the night before, One hasty glance, their pathway planned, When in his skiff, he fished along the shore. Quick the time their paddles make, The place is found without much search, O'er the waters of the lake, For near the shore two groups of Birch As swift their steps of from block to block,

On either side the rocky way Up that wild mass of broken rock, Their graceful, silvery branches sway; O're fallen trees and fissures deep Then higher up for many feet, Thro' which the startled reptiles creep, Only nude rocks, one's footsteps meet- Thro' briers, that with cruel grasp,

One fragment, huge and gray has on its side Claimed blood as tribute for their clasp, The ripple marks of some old tide- No pause - no rest - in this wild race And then a Pine, with fire scathed base, Save one dread moment, face to face, Helps mark the pathway to the place; When they had reached the crag's rude base;

A half-burnt tree still higher stands; And then no words, the silence broke; And then, defying feet and hands, Their eyes alone, the challenge spoke - 4 -

Legends of Devil's Lake

With flashed of that vivid fire, And there, with eager upturned face, Subtle as thought, without a name, She stood in wild suspense.

That bursts from souls when all aflame, She saw him seize the eagle's nest, Telling the dreadful purpose of their ire! And place an Eaglet in his breast; And then, as with new madness strung, But ah! too late, he came to know Up the steep crag, the pale-face sprung, His weight was resting on a bough Within Windago's grasp. Resting his feet he knew not where-- Whether on ivy, rock or air, In vane he stretched his arm to clasp That he had gained upon his foe, The trunk in their embrace; Was all he wished or cared to know. They only met a fiendish form and a more fiendish face, The fatal tree was reached at last, And upward he was climbing fast, One upward glance - t'was a look of pain - When to its base, the red man came, A frantic grasp that was all in vain - Something more than rage or shame And then far down by the maiden's feet Was in that upward glance of flame - Was a pool of crimson gore, A deadly purpose nerved his frame! A broken branch, a shapeless form - Eager to know the lovers' fate - An eaglet - nothing more! Too eager in the camp to wait - A cry, as when the heart strings break, A moment trembled o'er the lake: The maid, with others, crossed the tide And then, as mocking its despair, And clambered up the mountain side. A yell of triumph filled the air, She found a spot where sought-could hide, For Windago had gained the band The sequel she must wait - holding an Eaglet in his hand!

A moss crowned rock, quite near the base Like one who walks in some dread dream, Of the gray frowning precipice -- Unconscious quite - of reason's beam

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Legends of Devil's Lake

The maiden found the water's side, And, 'tis said, when through the sky Here, the dark horror of the scene, The hoarse autumnal breezes fly, Rushed o'er her like a tide - Scattering the garlands of gold and red

The mangled corpse - the exultant yell - Autumn has wreath'd round the forest's head, Windago's smile as Pierie fell -- The maid comes back from her watery grave, Oh! agony! could she ever wed And wonders at night along the shore, That face that smiled above her dead! Where of't with her lover she'd wondered of yore;

************************************************* Wreathing her arms, slender and bare, Oft, as they'd glided o'er the lake, With the long, dark waves of her midnight hair; When every wave was bright, And then o'er the rock, like a spectral shade, Pierie had spoken of a land Glides the shadowy form of the Indian maid' That never knew no night; And a mournful sob and a wailing cry A land where all love's dreams come true-- Sweeps through the pines with a shivering sigh; Where lovers never weep-- As, like a smoke-wreath, she fades away Whose gates should open to their view Into the mist of twilight gray. When death should bid them sleep. Woe to the warrior, maid or child' She'd seek its shore---why should she wait? That meets this spectre, weird and wild, Perchance she'd meet him at its gate; Or hears the notes of the vengeful cry If not, to lie beneath the breast That fills the air as it passes by! Of darkest waters, were more blest Than life, with her dark fate. ------0------

Storms long since have swept away The tree that held the nest; But towering high above the rest, To mark the spot, they say, There stands a huge, rough rock today; - 6 -

Legends of Devil's Lake

A Legend of Devil's lake But, borne upon the midnight blast, With folded arms across his breast, by Ben. D. House A shuddering sound was heard,-- He spake, with flashing eye: As though, on rushing pinions, passed ""The wolves have left their coward nest! Dedicated to J. C. Chandler Some evil-omened bird. For well they knew 'twas I!" ************* Fell o're that throng a hush profound, He scarce had ceased ere bow-strings' twang A nameless Lake with sullen roar As though each heart were chilled! Was heard from out the shade, Broke on the rocky strand; As nearer came that weird sound, And war-cry answering war-cry rang While Demons of the lake and shore The ghostly sound was stilled. From brave 'gainst brave arrayed. Seemed clasping hand in hand Each warrior grasped his ashen bow, Shriek answered shriek -- from hill to hill And geni of the other blue, And sprang into the shade The cry was oft repeated! With Gnomes beneath the earth To watch the coming of the foe, Till echo, answering echo, told Seemed met in conclave real and true, Concealed, but undismayed. The tale of foe defeated! To shriek their ghostly mirth. And through the darkness of the night The fires gleamed brighter from the glen, The wind awakened from its lair, There strode a stalwart form, Where erst the war-song sounded; The clouds drove to and fro, Whose eyes were fixed upon the light But they who sang were prisoners then, And chased the waves in upper air, Which pierced the driving storm. And by their foes surrounded. As surged the lake below. He halted not until he'd crossed The lake's wild roar was heard below; And foam-drops from the upper main, The camp-fire's gleam of light, The pine trees moaned and shivered; To meet the waves beneath, Which, with a blood red glow embossed The braves defeated knew their fate,-- Fell in a cold and sleety rain, The storm-king's shield of night. Yet, not a muscle quivered. Which covered hill and heath. The scalp-lock o'er his shoulders fell, They thought, that in the happy grounds Yet, in yon glen, the camp-fires seem And ,from his hair, the sleet Along the sparkling rivers, To scoff the Storm-King's thrall; Seemed changed as by a demon's spell, That they forevermore would hunt, And with their bright and ruddy gleam To blood drops by his feet. With never failing quivers. They rend the midnight pall. And round the blaze in circling ring Five hundred braves were at his back--- With tomahawk in hand, With stealthy step they trod; The Chiefs a war-song madly sing, Each warrior stepping in the track To cheer their warrior band. He left upon the sod. - 7 - About Section NN

Legends of Devil's Lake

The conquering chieftain bids his braves The morning's sun in gloom arose;--- "For Manitou has cursed with woe With throngs of bark to bind their slaves, But they who drowned their conquered foes These murderous waters, ever; And lead them to the lake; Were treading forest path. And on this shore shall never more That they, before they leave this land The waves still lashed their rock-bound Be slung the red man's quiver!" To join the phantom hunting band, shore, Their thirst might freely slake. And seemed to vent, in sullen roar, To them its shore forevermore A very Demon's wrath. Was like the Stygian river But when they reached the rock-bound Where souls in woe roam to and fro, shore, Adown the rocks, far up the side "Forever, and forever." His voice is heard, above the roar Of hill which raised its head in pride, That rages on the strand; A chieftain slowly came; ************************* And thus he speaks unto his braves: And he alone, of all his band, "These wolves who robbed our father's graves, Still deadly weapons held in hand,----s eyes Fair lake! thy name shall never more Shall bleach upon the sand! flashed vengeful flame. Be linked with thoughts infernal; While there are blooming on thy shore "The fish shall feed from off their bones! And for his braves, who slept below, So many gardens vernal. Their beds shall be upon the stones A curse he chanted, deep and low,--- That lie beneath the waves! And these words he spake: Despite the red man's bitter curse, Their scalps shall in our wigwams hang! "Forever cursed be the face--- Upon they southern border Their bow-strings in our hands shall twang! Of all these hills, and all the space A vineyard ripens in the sun, And they shall have no graves!" Which holds this cursed lake! Mid nature's wild disorder

Then, as his order loud was given, "And Minni-Wauken be thy name, Fair Kirkland! thou didst break the spell! Their death song chanted up to heaven, And cursed be his waters! Thy groves with beauty laden, Above the wild wind's roar. For thou shall have the darkest fame Have changed what proved the red man's Their scalps from off their heads were torn, With all our sons and daughters. hell And at the belt of victors worn, Into the white man's Aiden. And they cast from the shore! "And nevermore the red man's oar Shall dip the cursed water And "Minnehaha" be thy name,--- Made foul by death and Satan's breath Thou Lake of laughing waters! Breathed from the field of slaughter. For thou shalt know the brightest fame, With all our sons and daughters!

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