"It rained as it had never rained before. It fell in sheets. The cattle drank greedily and the water was plentiful. After the third day it grew lighter and the rain slacked. People ventured out of doors, and lo! the valley with the wigwam of Mus-kin-gum had disappeared. In its place, behold! a river. Up and down as far as eye could reach flowed the shining waters. A miracle had been performed, and the wise men came from miles around.
"'We will call the river O-hi-o,' they said, 'for it is the soul of her who has saved us.'
"And the river spread and grew larger. The braves explored and found that it was too long to measure. It would take days and days to find the end; in fact, they doubted that there could be an end.
"One morning they discovered a smaller river that emptied into the one they had named O-hi-o. That increased in length as well, but with their canoes they could paddle a hundred miles. They also noticed a peculiar thing about this smaller river. Whenever there came a thunder shower the river would rise and become covered with whitecaps, and rush madly down like a torrent until it seemed to fairly leap into the Ohio; and one wise man—the wisest of the tribe—said:
"'Behold, it is little Mus-kin-gum. Can you not see how the storm affects him? Was he not so in the flesh? Can you not see how he seeks his mother's bosom for shelter?'
"And so the mystery was explained. From the date of the appearance of the two rivers everything in that part of the country prospered. The cattle were second to none. The fruit was the fairest and most luscious fruit ever grown, while the crops—corn, buckwheat, oats, barley and wheat—could not be excelled."
("Today the fisheries are the finest and the Grand Reservoir is the largest body of artificial water in the world—equal in extent to all others in the state. It is well for you to know that," said Kate, interrupting the story).
"And whenever the Indians prayed to the Great Spirit they would thank him for having sent O-hi-o as a voluntary sacrifice; and each starlight night old Wa-chi-ta and his wife would search among the constellations for their three loved ones. Then they, too, passed into the Happy Hunting Grounds. But with many of the Western tribes the legend remains until today.
"For years to come the little Indian children would say to one another:
"'It's going to storm. Hear the thunder; see it lighten; let us go down and watch the little Mus-kin-gum get frightened and rush into his mother's arms.'"