“One day when Kitchi-Manitou was again walking along the sand, he saw something moving in the reeds, and noticed a being coming out of the water entirely covered with silver-glistening scales like a fish, but otherwise formed like a man. Kitchi-Manitou was curious to see on what the being lived and whether it ate herbs, especially as he saw it constantly stooping and plucking herbs which it swallowed. The man could not speak, but at times when he stooped he sighed and groaned.
“The sight moved Kitchi-Manitou with compassion in the highest degree, and as a good thought occurred to him, he immediately stepped into his canoe and paddled across to the island, which still lies in the centre of the lake. Here he set to work providing the man the company of a squaw. He formed her nearly like what he had seen the man to be, and also covered her body with silver-glistening scales. Then he breathed life into her, and carried her across in his canoe to the other bank of the lake, telling her that if she wandered busily along the lake and looked about her, she would perhaps find something to please her. For days the squaw wandered about one shore of the lake, while the man was seeking herbs for food on the other. One day the latter went a little further, and, to his great surprise, saw footsteps in the sand much like those he himself made. At once he gave up seeking herbs and followed these footsteps, as he hoped there were other beings like himself on the lake. The squaw during her long search had left so many footsteps that the man at first feared they might belong to a number of Indians, and they might perhaps be hostile. Hence he crept along carefully in the bush, but always kept an eye on the trail in the sand.
“At last he found the being he sought sitting on a log near the shore. Through great fatigue she had fallen asleep. He looked around to the right and left but she was quite alone. At length he ventured to come out of the bushes; he approached her with uncertain and hesitating steps; he seized her and she opened her eyes.
“‘Who art thou?’ he said, for he could now suddenly speak, ‘Who art thou, what is thy name, and whither dost thou come?’
“‘My name is Mami,’ she replied, ‘and Kitchi-Manitou brought me here from that island, and told me I should find something here I liked. I think that thou art the promised one.’
“‘On what dost thou live?’ the man asked the woman.
“‘Up to this time I have eaten nothing, for I was looking for thee. But now I feel very hungry; hast thou anything to eat?’
“Straightway the man ran into the bushes, and collected some roots and herbs he had found good to eat, and brought them to the squaw, who greedily devoured them.
“The sight of this moved Kitchi-Manitou, who had watched the whole scene from his lodge. He immediately came over in his canoe, and invited the couple to his island. Here they found a handsome large house prepared for them, and a splendid garden round it. In the house were glass windows, and in the rooms tables and chairs and beds and conveniences of every description. In the garden grew every possible sort of useful and nourishing fruits, potatoes, strawberries, apple-trees, cherry and plum trees; and close by were large fine fields planted with Indian corn and beans.
“They ate and lived there for days and years in pleasure and happiness; and Kitchi-Manitou often came to them and conversed with them. ‘One thing,’ he said, ‘I must warn you against. Come hither; see, this tree in the middle of the garden is not good. I did not plant it, but Matchi-Manitou planted it. In a short time this tree will blossom and bear fruits which look very fine and taste very sweet; but do not eat of them, for if ye do so ye will die.’ They paid attention to this, and kept the command a long time, even when the tree had blossomed and the fruit had set. One day, however, when Mami went walking in the garden, she heard a very friendly and sweet voice say to her, ‘Mami, Mami, why dost thou not eat of this beautiful fruit? it tastes splendidly.’ She saw no one, but she was certain the voice did not come either from Kitchi-Manitou or her husband. She was afraid and went into the house. The next day though, she again went into the garden, and was rather curious whether the same pleasant voice would speak to her again. She had hardly approached the forbidden tree, when the voice was heard once more, ‘Mami, Mami, why dost thou not taste this splendid fruit? it will make thy heart glad.’ And with these words a young handsome Indian came out of the bushes, plucked a fruit, and placed it in her hand. ‘Thou canst make famous preserves of it for thy household,’ the friendly Indian added.