Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian CollectionCatlin, George
History
Adventures of the Ojibbeway and Ioway Indians in England, France, and Belgium; Vol. 2 (of 2): being Notes of Eight Years' Travels and Residence in Europe with his North American Indian Collection
Catlin, George
England -- Description and travel; France -- Description and travel; Indians of North America
"When the great Mississippi river was a young and beautiful stream,
and its waters were blue and clear, and the Ioways lived on its
banks, more than a thousand snows since, _Net-no-qua_, a young man
of great beauty, and son of a great chief, complained that he was
sick. His appetite left him, and his sleep was not good. His eyes,
which had been like those of the war-eagle, grew soft and dim, and
sunk deep in his head. His lips, that had been the music for all
about him, had become silent; his breast, that had always been calm,
was beating, and deep sighs showed that something was wrong within.
_O-za-pa_, whose medicine was great, and to whom all the plants and
roots of the prairies were known, was quite lost; he tried all, and
all was in vain; the fair son of the chief was wasting away, as each
sweet breath that he breathed went off upon the winds, and never
came back to him. Thus did _Net-no-qua_, the son of _Ti-ah-ka_, pine
away. The medicine man told him at last that there was but one thing
that could cure him, and that was attended with great danger. In his
dream a small prairie snake had got upon a bush, and its light, which
was that of the sun, opened his eyes to its brightness, and his ears
to its words: 'The son of _Ti-ah-ka_ grieves--this must not be--his
breast must be quiet, and his thoughts like the quiet waters of the
gliding brook; the son of _Ti-ah-ka_ will grow like the firm rocks of
the mountain, and the chiefs and warriors, who will descend from him,
will grow like the branches of the spreading oak.' The medicine man
said to the son of _Ti-ah-ka_ that he must now take a small piece of
the flesh from his side for his bait, and in a certain cove on the
bank of the river, the first fish that he caught was to be brought to
his wigwam alone, under his robe, and she, whose blood would become
warm, would be to him like the vine that clings around and through
the branches of the oak: that then his eyes would soon shine again
like those of the eagle; the music of his lips would soon return, and
his troubled breast would again become calm, his appetite would be
good, and his sleep would be sweet and quiet like that of a babe.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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