LONG time ago a mother and father resided in Cor-tep village, in the house of Metch-cher-rau, located about a half-mile up the river from the old Klamath Bluffs store. They had two good children, a boy and girl, the girl being the eldest. Brother and sister loved each other divinely; their devotion was more divine than human hearts had ever known. Their parents were very wealthy, and were married of a good marriage ceremony of the wealthy class. Metch-cher-us-ah-may, the sister, was the most lovely of all the girls of the tribe; besides her rare beauty she possessed a kind and loving disposition beyond comparison. When she had grown to womanhood, she went to the Talth, or High Priests, and asked them if she might join the sacred lodge. But the High Priests sadly shook their heads, and said they could never admit her to the sacred lodge, as her parents were not of high birth, and that she was not of the Talth marriage. Her pleadings were in vain, and she turned away from the lodge deeply grieved, realizing that she had been barred forever from the sacred altar of the High Priests, and that she could never become a Talth, or mix with the Priests. It would be useless to plead again; she was denied their solitary ways of worship and she could never sit in their lodge and kindle their sacred fires. Her proud spirit was grieved and wounded almost beyond human endurance; a great battle now waged within her heart, that God Himself might take her above her humble birth and station in life, that she might rise in greatness beyond the glories of the High Priests, as she would walk in Heaven, and they on earth until death claimed its own.
She would rise from her bed about four o’clock every morning while the villages were yet dark and sleeping and go to gather wood, praying as she gathered the branches in her basket, and when it was filled she would return to her house, praying all the while, and leave the wood there long before any one was astir to see her at work. After this task was done she would go to a high rock on the hill-side in a small creek, a short distance from the Cor-tep village, where she would spend the entire day on top of this rock, praying to God and weaving baskets. There was a small basin of water in this solid rock close by where she sat, which she used to keep her basket materials wet as she worked them. The rock was very high when she sat upon it long ages ago, but it is nearly covered with earth at this present writing. At evening-tide she would return to her home. So earnest were her prayers, so patient was her humble soul in waiting that she prayed a number of years on top of this rock, ere her prayers were answered in Heaven. Praying in the great solitudes of a vast creation she never faltered, but prayed on to the Heavenly Father that he might give her strength and courage to become far more pure than any that had ever lived on earth before her, that she might rise as a virgin of purity above her people, leaving in her footsteps the holy halo when she had passed from the earth away to the realms of Heaven above.
This beautiful woman, made far more beautiful in her purity, the sublime whiteness of her soul shining forth, transfigured beyond the glories of womanhood. After these years of faithful prayer, dark suspicions and intrigues rose from the people of the villages, as her actions seemed so strange and why one so beautiful should always be solitary. No doubt some youth was yearning for the beauty of her arms to encircle him, the sweetness of her smile had fascinated all, as her sweetness was so perfect. She was always alone, and there did not seem to be anything to prevent it. Day by day the village folks grew more restless in their surmises of their doubts and fears for her safety, and they brought the tale to her parents who accused her of clandestine meetings with some unscrupulous man who no doubt had ruined her virtuous womanhood, and that they would soon cast her from the village in disgrace if she persisted in her lone walks to the woods in the early morning and kept solitary place on the rock during the day.
How unjust we sometimes accuse the innocent; how deep the wounds we thrust that we mourn in after years in sad regret of our cruel words spoken when God has taken them away and they no longer soothe our dark afflictions. Rising in wounded pride once more she proclaimed her innocence, that her soul was free from this preposterous accusation. So long she had been patient and true, so long she had denied herself the pleasures and passions of earth, directing her thoughts to lofty ideals she could proudly verify when the time came for her to go to the Throne on High, when the Heavenly Father would call her to the Eternal Home. She said she could not tell her parents and the people her reasons and account for her actions now; why she would always get up so early in the morning to get her wood, and why she spent the entire days upon the rock. But she assured them that they would all know at a future time why she spent so many hours of solitude, this time would be when God called her Home, and they would repent for their cruel accusations.
During these years of patient prayer, brother and sister met in loving companionship of sympathy and exchanging the prayer of their ambitions. Metch-cher-us-ah-chene, the brother, knew the secret prayers of his devout sister, and by them his thoughts were directed to higher ideals. Pledged by solemn vows, he would never make known her secret prayers, until she herself was ready for him to do so. They prayed together, he alone at his fishing, she alone on the high rock at her basket weaving, their prayers united. However, his faith in God was not so strong, and his prayers were not so earnest as his sister’s, that the future years left him alone on earth to mourn her loss.
Metch-cher-us-ah-may heeded not the warnings of her people as she continued to rise in the early morning hours to gather her wood before the light of day, so that no one would feast their unscrupulous eyes upon her while she was at work. After this task was done she would go as usual to the high rock and weave baskets the whole day through until evening, saying her prayers all the while.
Spring time had come when all the leaves of the trees and shrubbery had grown up, and the sap of the maple tree was full. Metch-cher-us-ah-may peeled the maple tree of its bark and took the inner layers that grow upon the surface of the hard wood of the tree and out of this bark she made a dress of beautiful fringes, softer than silk itself, as it hung in ripples about her body. From the yellow-hammer she plucked its beautiful golden feathers and made a cape in which she wrapped her shoulders and arms. Spring-time waned and mid-summer came; it was the last summer that she would spend on earth, as her faithful prayers had been answered and she was now ready to be taken to Werse-on-now (Heaven). Ah, she could now mount to the glories of Heaven without passing through that dark and shadowy vale of death. The High Priests, who had turned her away from the scared lodge, together with the other people, would all have to die and the earth would give them a grave. Their hands would never touch her body, the earth would give her no grave, but instead, her body would be carried through the winds and storms until she reached that Infinite Shore where she would dwell in the flowery meadows of Heaven.
The evening before the day of her departure she brought all of her baskets she had made to her home and gave all of her wealth to her brother, telling him to watch for her in the early morning, as she was departing for a far better throne than she had ever known upon earth. In the early morning hours, ere the sun was shining over the mountains of the Klamath, she bathed her body with sweet scented herbs, put on her new maple dress and draped her shoulders with the gorgeous dyes of the yellow-hammer feathers, her long raven locks were combed and left flowing about her shoulders. Bidding her brother good-bye, he beheld her mount the rock where she had sat so many years in devout prayer; he alone saw her rise from the earth to go to the realms above. Swift as the lightning from Heaven she mounted the rock, bowing to the great creation of the world with her arms outstretched and her beautiful hair flowing, she stood erect with her face to Heaven in the north with her eyes closed. Out of the north, on his mighty wings, rose the red eagle and came to her feet on the rock. Dipping her hand to the west, to the land of the setting sun, she bade the world farewell and mounted the eagle’s back. With outstretched wings, gorgeously tipped in crimson, he rose from the rock with his fair princess mounted securely upon his back, and flew with her to the far north from whence he came. In the early dawn of the rising sun, in all the glories of Indian summer, her brother saw her mount the eagle and fly away to the Kingdom of Heaven, passing not through the gates of death.
She sat on the eagle’s back through the long journey, with her eyes always closed, her arms raised above her shoulders and her hands folded at the back of her head and neck. The eagle on his long journey north to the land of Cheek-cheek-alth, commanded her not to open her eyes, though the storms from Heaven may feel severe against her face and body. Rising from the earth she felt the heat of the still Indian summer beat like fire upon her. Far away they soared and the eagle said, “You will now feel the mighty winds of Heaven sweep around you in piercing gales, but do not open your eyes.” Far up through the winds they soared and she opened her eyes not. Far on they flew and he said again, “You will feel the rain pouring in torrents upon you, but you must never open your eyes.” Through the rain they went until he again said, “You will now feel the cold fall like piercing blades of ice but you must never open your eyes.” Through the piercing cold they flew, her eyes always shut, until he said again, “You will now feel the snow fall thick and fast upon you, but you must not open your eyes.” Through the mighty winds and the cold, fierce storms of Heaven they had flown, until the eagle at last exclaimed, “You will feel the warmth of pleasant summer again, open your eyes and I will leave you in that sublime land of Cheek-cheek-alth.” She opened her eyes for the first time during her long flight through the airy regions and beheld the beauteous land of Cheek-cheek-alth, the old land that gave birth to our people long ages ago. She now stood upon the banks of the most sublime river the world has ever known, with its hallowed charms and brilliant gems of fortune, its mystic waters of transparent brilliancy flowing sweet and peaceful through the valley of Cheek-cheek-alth. On the shores of this wonderful river she beheld millions of the dead turk-tum (short shells of the Indian money) shining from the sands of the water. From this river long centuries ago, when the Indians first left their native land in search of the new world they brought with them the cheek, or Indian money. They say this money is found in no other clime except in the old land of Cheek-cheek-alth, the land of their birth. They do not use the dead turk-tum washed upon the banks of the river for money, but fish for the live cheek in the river which they catch the same as fish, and out of these live shells make their cheek or money. This money through the long evolution of centuries has been handed down from one generation to another.
In the land of Cheek-cheek-alth, this divine princess found the ladder that goes to Heaven and climbed it, round by round, until she reached Heaven. All of her tribulations of earth, were finished, the false accusations of cruel friends could no longer thrust their wounds into her blameless soul as she now sat glorified on a Throne of Eternal Splendors, truly a Saint in Heaven.