"How shall I make myself known to them? how shall I make myself known to the beautiful creature I have so often tried to clasp in my arms?" demanded the Nanticoke.
"It is to tell thee how that I am now at thine ear," answered the Master of Dreams. "Listen."
"Peel from the vine that bears no fruit its inner bark, and of this twist thee a long cord that shall carry to the water of the well the thing thou shalt tie to it. When it is finished, attach to it the white flat stone having in it little shining specks, which thou shalt find lying upon the edge of the near rivulet, where the feet of deer have worn a deep and broad path. Thou must let this stone descend with a quick motion till it reach the water, the whilst crying aloud, 'Come forth, maiden spirit with the bright eyes, and assume the corporeal state which shall fit thee for becoming a resident of the upper earth. Quit the impalpable form thou didst wear in the world of thine own, and be flesh, and blood, and bones, and marrow, in ours. Be no more the cold and chilled inhabitant of a dark, damp, and murky well, but become a warm and impassioned woman. Awake to the joys and sorrows, and hopes and fears, and doubts and disappointments, and cares and anxieties, which belong to human life. Awake to the throbs of love, and the joys of maternity.'" So saying, the Spirit departed to the place of his rest in the land of dreams.
The Nanticoke arose, and did as he was bidden. He peeled from the vine that bore no fruit its inner bark, and with it he made a cord of sufficient length to reach the water of the well. He searched for the flat, white stone with little shining specks in it, and having found it he attached it to the cord, and let it descend with a quick motion till it reached the water. Whilst it was descending, he cried aloud, "Come forth, maiden spirit with the bright eyes, and assume the corporeal state of a human being. Quit the impalpable form thou didst wear in the world of thine own, and be flesh, and blood, and bones, and marrow, in ours. Be no more the cold and chilled inhabitant of a dark, damp, and murky well, but become a warm and impassioned woman. Awake to the joys and sorrows, and hopes and fears, and doubts and disappointments, and cares and anxieties, which belong to human life. Awake to the throbs of love, and the feelings of maternity."
Scarce had the words escaped from his lips, when, by a ray of light which beamed into the well, he saw her he loved, her whose beauteous form he had so often attempted to clasp to his breast, ascending. Now she rises, suspended as it were, by nothing, now she has gained the earth. Already has she felt the change which has come over her, already she knows herself invested with other feelings and properties than those which have accompanied her in the state which she has quitted. Sounds are ringing in her ears which never rang there till now; visions are before her eyes which are now awakened for the first time. The music of birds, and the hum of bees, and the rattling of the distant rill, and the sighing of the wind, greet her ear, and her eyes are made happy by all the bright things which the Great Being has placed in this glorious world. And, most of all the objects which meet her eye, does the form of the Nanticoke please and gratify her. Her beautiful cheek is covered with a blush, her eye grows mellower, and her heart beats with a new, and till now unfelt passion. Few minutes pass ere she is in his arms, and has given and received the kiss of affection. She has awoke to the feelings of humanity, her heart has felt the throb of love, her bosom has been pained by the fear that it may not be returned; and anxiety, and joy, and grief, and many of the other passions of human nature, have visited her bosom. Beautiful creature! she has blushed on the Nanticoke her consent to be his, she has whispered in his delighted ear her happiness and pleasure; and, while she sits on the green sod at his side, she lays her head on his shoulder, and sings a sweet song of happy lovers, in the language of the Nanticoke which has become her own. I recollect not the words of that song, but it came to the ears of the enraptured Indian as the first word of a little child to the ears of its mother.
Brothers! I am that Nanticoke, and the beautiful spirit is she that sits at my side, and the child at my feet is the child she bore me. And this is all I have to say.
[VI. THE UNIVERSAL MOTHER.]
Before the world existed, and before mountains, men, and animals, were created; while the sky was yet without a sun, ere the moon and stars were hung up for the lamps of darkness, the Great Being, who is alike the preserver and sustainer of the red man and his younger brother the white man, was with the woman, the beautiful spirit, the Universal Mother. This woman was not of the same nature as the Great Being. He was a spirit, bloodless, fleshless, bodiless; she bore the form, and was gifted with the properties of a human being.
At that time all was water, at least water covered all things. No eye could have discovered aught else, had there been an eye to see. That which existed was darkness—all was darkness—darkness.—Darkness was all, in all, and over all. There were no sounds abroad, no winds swept the face of the waters, which lay black, still, and stagnant, as the slime of a pool surrounded by a thick copse. The waters were rotted by their long continued stagnation, and the winds could not exist in the heavy and murky air.