A Guide to Mythology

by Helen A. Clarke

THE LOVER’S VISION OF THE HAPPY ISLAND

There was once a very beautiful girl, more beautiful than all the Indian maidens of her tribe, who died suddenly, on the eve of her marriage to a handsome young chief; and, although her lover was brave, his heart was not proof against his loss. He mourned as one without hope. After her burial he sat near the spot where her remains were deposited, without speaking, musing and dreaming of her he had lost. War and hunting had no charms for him. He pushed aside his bow and arrows, for his heart was dead within him. He had heard the old people say that there was a path that led to the Land of Souls, and he determined to follow it. With this resolution he left the remains of his beloved, and, after making some preparation for the journey, set out at an early hour of the morning.

At first he hardly knew which direction to take, for he was guided only by the tradition that he must go southward. For a while he could discover no change in the appearance of the country; forests, hills, valleys, and streams had the same familiar look that they wore around his native home. There was snow upon the ground, however, when he set out; and it was sometimes seen clinging in thick mats upon the trees and bushes, but at length it began to diminish, and finally, as he travelled swiftly along, totally disappeared, when the forest assumed a more cheerful appearance. The trees appeared to be putting forth their leaves, and suddenly, as if by enchantment, as he walked onward, he found himself surrounded by the budding flowers of spring; the air seemed warm upon his cheek, while overhead, instead of wintry clouds, the sky was clear, and his ears were saluted with songs of birds.

The lover’s heart beat quickly at these changes, for he knew he was in the right path, as appearances agreed with the traditions of his tribe. As he sped along, he discovered a footpath, which he followed, and was led through a dark grove, then up a long precipitous ridge, on the extreme summit of which he came to a lodge. In the doorway of this lodge stood an old man, whose hair was white as snow, and whose eyes, though deeply sunken, had a wonderful brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a staff in his hand. The young lover accosted him and began to tell his story, when the old man interrupted him by saying: “I have expected you, and had just risen to bid you welcome. She whom you seek passed here a few days since. Enter my lodge, for therein she rested, being fatigued, and I will answer all your inquiries, and give you direction for your journey from this point.”

Having entered and rested within the lodge, according to the old man’s invitation, the young lover, impatient of delay, soon issued forth from the lodge-door, accompanied by the venerable chief. “You see yonder gulf,” said the chief, “and the wide-stretching blue plains beyond. It is the Land of Souls. You stand upon its borders, and my lodge is its gate of entrance; but you cannot take your body along with you; leave it here with your bow and arrows, your bundle and your dog; you will find it safe on your return.”

So saying, he turned and reëntered his lodge, and the freed traveller bounded forward as if his feet were winged. He found, as he thus sped forward, that all things retained their natural colors and shapes, except that they seemed more beautiful—the colors being richer and shapes more comely; and he would have thought that everything was the same as heretofore, had he not seen that the animals bounded across his path with the utmost freedom and confidence, and birds of beautiful plumage inhabited the groves, and sported in the waters in fearless and undisturbed enjoyment. As he passed on, however, he noticed that his passage was not impeded by trees or other objects; he appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the souls of trees, and he then became sensible that he was in the Land of Shadows.

When he had travelled some distance through the country, which continually became more and more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad lake, in the center of which was a beautiful island; and tied upon the shore of this lake he found a canoe of white, shining stone, within which were white paddles that seemed to be of the same shining material.

He immediately entered the canoe and took the paddles in his hands, when, to his joy and surprise, on turning around, he discovered the object of his search, the young maiden, in another canoe exactly the counterpart of his; who, having imitated his motions in gathering up the paddles and making preparations for embarking, followed him as he pushed off from shore.

The waves of the lake soon began to rise, and, at a distance, looked ready to submerge them in their watery embrace; but yet, on approaching their white edges, they seemed to melt away. Still, as these enormous waves followed each other in quick succession, it kept them in continual fear; for they felt no certainty but that some one of them might break upon their canoes and bring them to destruction; while, added to this perpetual fear, the water of the lake was so clear that it disclosed to their affrighted gaze large heaps of bones of human beings who had perished before. And, as they moved on, they saw many persons struggling and sinking in the waves. Old men and women, and young men and maidens, were there; and but few were able to pass over. The children alone were seen to glide on without fear. However, notwithstanding their terror, the young man and maiden moved unharmed along, for their deeds in life had been free from evil, and the Master of Life had decreed their safety; and, at length, they leaped out upon the shore of the Happy Island, the place of their destination, and wandered together over the blissful fields, where everything was formed to delight the eye and please the ear. The air itself was like food, and nourished and strengthened them. There were no tempests. No one shivered for the want of warm clothes. No one suffered from hunger. No one mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars. There was no hunting of animals. Gladly the young lover would have remained forever with his beloved in this beautiful land, but this was not permitted; for, although he did not see the Master of Life, he heard his voice in a soft breeze which commanded his return: “Go back,” said the voice, “to the land from whence you came. Your time has not yet come; your work is not finished, and the duties for which I made you are not completed. Return to your people and accomplish all the duties of a brave man. You will be the ruler of your tribe for many years. My messenger at the gate shall instruct you in your future work, when he surrenders your body. Listen to him, and you shall afterwards rejoin the spirit which you must now leave behind. She is accepted, and will dwell here forever, as young and as happy as when I called her from the Land of Snows.” And with this the lover’s vision closed.