“Meanwhile Manabazho seized his bow and arrows, and placed himself near the spot where he deemed the serpents would come to enjoy the shade; he then transformed himself into the stump of a withered tree, that his enemies might not discover his presence. The winds became still, the air stagnant, the sun shone hot upon the lake of the evil Manitous. By-and-by the waters became troubled, and bubbles rose to the surface, for the rays of the hot sun penetrated to the horrible brood within its depths. The commotion increased, and a serpent lifted up its head high above the centre of the lake and gazed around the shores. Directly another came to the surface, and they listened for the footsteps of Manabazho; but they heard him nowhere on the face of the earth, and they said one to another, ‘Manabazho sleeps,’ and then they plunged again beneath the waters, which seemed to hiss as they closed over them. It was not long before the Lake of Manitous became more troubled than before; it boiled from its very depths, and the hot waves dashed wildly against the rocks on its shores. The commotion increased, and soon Meshekenabek, the Great Serpent, emerged slowly to the surface and moved toward the shore. His blood-red crest glowed with a deeper hue, and the reflection from his glancing scales was like the blinding glitter of a snow-covered forest beneath the morning sun of winter. He was followed by all the evil spirits, so great a number that they covered the shores of the lake with their foul and trailing carcases. They saw the broken, blasted stump into which Manabazho had transformed himself, and suspecting it might be one of his disguises, one of them approached and wound his tail around it, and sought to drag it down, but Manabazho stood firm, though he could hardly refrain from crying aloud.
“The Great Serpent wound his vast folds among the trees of the forest, and the rest also sought the shade, while one was left to listen for the steps of Manabazho. When they all slept Manabazho drew an arrow from his quiver; he placed it in his bow, and aimed it where he saw the heart beat against the sides of the Great Serpent. He launched it, and with a howl that shook the mountains and startled the wild beasts in their caves, the monster awoke, and, followed by its frightened companions, uttering mingled sounds of rage and terror, plunged again into the lake. When the Great Serpent knew that he was mortally wounded, both he and the evil spirits around him were rendered tenfold more terrible by their great wrath, and they arose to overwhelm Manabazho. The water of the lake swelled upwards from its dark depths, and with a sound like many thunders it rolled madly on his track, bearing the rocks and trees before it with resistless fury. High on the crest of the foremost wave, black as the midnight, rode the writhing form of the wounded Meshekenabek, and red eyes glared around him, and the hot breaths of the monstrous brood hissed fiercely after the retreating Manabazho. Then thought Manabazho of his Indian children, and he ran by their villages, and in a voice of alarm bade them flee to the mountains, for the Great Serpent was deluging the earth in his expiring wrath, sparing no living thing. The Indians caught up their children, and wildly sought safety where he bade them.
“Manabazho continued his flight along the base of the western hills, and finally took refuge on a high mountain beyond Lake Superior, far to the North. There he found many men and animals who had fled from the flood that already covered the valleys and plains, and even the highest hills. Still the waters continued to rise, and soon all the mountains were overwhelmed, save that on which stood Manabazho. Then he gathered together timber and made a raft, upon which the men and women and the animals that were with him all placed themselves. No sooner had they done so than the rising floods closed over the mountain, and they floated alone on the surface of the waters. And thus they floated many days; and some died, and the rest became sorrowful, and reproached Manabazho that he did not disperse the waters and renew the earth, that they might live. But though he knew that his great enemy was by this time dead, yet could he not renew the world unless he had some earth in his hands wherewith to commence the work. This he explained to those who were with him, and he said that were it ever so little, even a few grains, then could he disperse the waters and renew the world.
“The beaver then volunteered to go to the bottom of the deep and get some earth, and they all applauded her design. She plunged in, and they waited long: when she returned she was dead; they opened her hands, but there was no earth in them. ‘Then,’ said the otter, ‘will I seek the earth,’ and the bold swimmer dived from the raft. The otter was gone still longer than the beaver, but when he returned to the surface he too was dead, and there was no earth in his claws.
“‘Who shall find the earth?’ exclaimed all those on the raft, ‘now that the beaver and the otter are dead?’ ‘That will I,’ said the musk-rat, and he quickly disappeared between the logs of the raft. The musk-rat was gone very much longer than the otter, and it was thought that he would never return, when he suddenly rose close by, but he was too weak to speak, and he swam slowly towards the raft. He had hardly got upon it when he too died from his great exertion. They opened his little hands, and there, closely clasped between the fingers, they found a few grains of fresh earth. These Manabazho carefully collected and dried in the sun, and then he rubbed them into fine powder in his palms, and rising up he blew them abroad upon the waters. No sooner was this done than the flood began to subside, and soon the trees on the mountains were seen, and then the mountains and hills emerged from the deep, and the plains and the valleys came into view, and the waters disappeared from the land. Then it was found that the Great Serpent, Meshekenabek, was dead, and that the evil Manitous, his companions, had returned to the depths of the Lake of Spirits, from which, for the fear of Manabazho, they never more dared to come forth. In gratitude to the beaver, the otter, and the musk-rat, these animals were ever after held sacred by the Indians, and they became their brethren; and they were never killed nor molested until the medicine-men of the stranger made them forget their relations and turned their hearts to ingratitude.”
As we propose to deal, in conclusion, with some few examples of the fabledom that has grown around various plants, we may fitly usher in this new section of our subject with some little account of the old belief that the barnacle-shells of our shores, or, as some writers held, a tree called the barnacle-tree, developed into Solan-geese,[34] as the transition from the mythical animal kingdom to the fabulous vegetable kingdom will thus be rendered less abrupt.
[34] “From the most refined of saints
As naturally grow miscreants,
As barnacles turn Solan-geese
In the islands of the Orcades.”
—Hudibras. [Back]
This barnacle-goose tree was a great article of faith with our ancestors in the Middle Ages. Gerarde, for example, in his History of Plants gives an illustration of it in all good faith—a branch bearing barnacles and by its side a barnacle goose. Following, however, the plan we have adopted throughout of going directly to the fountain-head, Gerarde shall give us his own description of this wonder of Nature. We may, however, point out before doing so that the error arose from a near resemblance of two distinct words suggesting that there must be an identity of nature in the things so named. A common kind of shell was in the Middle Ages called pernacula, while the Solan-goose, in France called the barnache, was the bernacula. Both words being popularly corrupted into barnacle, it was natural that the two things should be considered as identical. Gerarde saves this crowning wonder until the end of his book, and then discourses as follows concerning it:—“Hauing trauelled from the grasses growing in the bottom of the fenny waters, the woods, and mountaines, euen vnto Libanus it selfe; and also the sea, and bowels of the same, wee are arriued at the end of our Historie: thinking it not impertinent to the conclusion of the same, to end with one of the maruells of this land (we may say of the world). The historie whereof to set forth according to the worthinesse and raritie thereof would not only require a large and peculiar volume, but also a deeper search into the bowels of nature than mine intended purpose wil suffer me to wade into, my sufficience also considered; leauing the historie thereof rough hewen unto some excellent men, learned in the secrets of nature, to be both fined and refined: in the meantime take it as it falleth out, the naked and bare truth, though vnpolished. There are found in the North parts of Scotland and the Island adiacient, called Orchades, certain trees whereon do grow certaine shells of a white colour tending to russet, wherein are contained little liuing creatures, which shells in time of maturitie do open, and out of them do grow those little liuing things, which falling in the water do become fowles, which we call Barnakles; in the North of England trant geese, and in Lancashire tree geese; but the other that do fall vpon the land perish and come to nothing. Thus much by the writings of others, and also from the mouths of people of those parts, which may very well accord with truth.