"We have now dwelt together, Tetons, for forty summers, and, during that time, there has been a pure, unclouded sky in our village. We have been friends, and so we will part. I cannot abide longer on the earth; I go to take the soul of my beloved husband to the mansion prepared for him in my own bright clime of the north. My children I leave to the care of the brave warriors and good hunters, bidding one to protect, and the other to feed them, till the Good Spirit sees fit to deprive them of the life he has given. Be this your recompense.
"It is known that, among all the red men of the forest, none are so fond of dancing, and none so excellent therein, as the Tetons. Ask any man, or any woman, of any nation, who best and most gracefully perform the War Dance, and the Scalp Dance, and the Calumet Dance, and the Dance of Green Corn, and he will answer, 'The Burntwood Tetons.' Now, if ye will continue to watch over my helpless children till their days of helplessness are past, ye shall continue to dance even after death—the spirit released from the flesh shall still caper as merrily as ever over the clear skies of the north. Those skies were once mine—to-morrow I shall resume dominion over them."
"It is cold, very cold in those regions," said the great chief. "The dance will not keep us warm, and our way will be impeded by the ice and snow."
"Neither shall be an impediment," answered the beautiful Spirit. "I will cause my little people to kindle huge fires, the flames of which, flashing over the northern skies, shall at once dissipate the flaky mists, and be a light to the steps of the dancers. And thus shall it be. When a Teton departs, his spirit shall go to the northern skies, which henceforth shall be the Teton's Paradise. There shall he enjoy, uninterrupted, his beloved pastime; and, till time shall be no more, have full permission to foot it as joyfully as he did on earth."
These were the concluding words of the Spirit-wife. When they looked up she was gone from their sight, no one knew whither. Presently there was a slight fall of snow, which soon, however, again gave place to the beams of the warm and refreshing sun. They never saw her again. They never saw her again, but they forgot neither her nor her wishes. The children she left were adopted by the nation, and became in time so many of them fathers and mothers, that, at this day, half the tribe are descended from them.
My brother asks, if the good Spirit-wife kept her promise to the Tetons. She did, as he will see, if he will but look at the northern skies in the time of summer and autumn. He will then see flashing over the face of the broad heavens the flames which the good people kindle to thaw the frosty air, and thus remove the impediments which exist to the merry dance of the souls of those Tetons, who have repaired to the Happy Abode. He will hear very plain the laugh[57] of the sprightly dancers; and frequently, when the air is very clear, he will see their nimble forms dancing up and down the moonbeams. Who would not wish that his spirit might be permitted to go to The Teton's Paradise?
Brother, this is no lie.
NOTES.
(1) String of Wampum.—p. 293.
A party of Indians, intending to go to war, first observe a rigorous and protracted fast. When the fast is ended, he who is to command it assembles his friends, and, holding in his hand a string of wampum, makes a speech, in which the causes of war, and the injuries and insults which justify it, are fully and artfully set forth. When he has finished, he lays the collar on the ground, and he who takes it up, by so doing, declares himself embarked in the same expedition.