When he told them he had come for some of the stone that lay on the shores of that river, to make knives, the war-chief asked him what band he belonged to, and that while he was answering, the woman ceased her employment, listening intently to him. That the war-chief asked him what had become of that tall chief called the Fiery Man; and that while he was telling of his death, and of his strange condition before it, the woman laughed, and said that after all Chat-o-tee-dah had not been as true a friend as the warrior thought, for a weak woman had escaped from his fiercest anger; and that when he asked her if she had ever known Fiery Man, her husband was angry, and told her to hush, saying, women always talked too much, and that it was time she had done his leggins, which he wanted to wear in the morning, when he met the wise men of their band in council; that when she returned to her work, as she was told, that he was reminded of the quiet obedience with which White Moon ever listened to the commands of her husband, that tall warrior, Fiery Man, who had gone to that country where thousands of warriors assemble and shout through the heavens their song, as they celebrate the medicine feast. [Footnote 26: The story of Wenona is given in "Dacota, or Legends of the Sioux," in almost the words of the Sioux themselves. It has been often told by travellers, and there is no doubt but it actually occurred. [N. B. This tradition, as given in a letter from Miss Bremer to myself, during her visit to the Falls of St. Anthony, will be found at the end of this story.--J. S. H.]] NOTE. A TRADITION OF THE FALLS OF ST. ANTHONY.--There is a little island, just below the Falls, surrounded by their spray, with picturesque rocks and dark cedars, looking lonely and romantic, more attractive than the Falls, through its peculiar looks, and its story, connected with the Falls and with the people which still hovers around them, on the territory of Minesota, raising tents of one night soon to depart, kindling fires soon to be quenched. It is called the _Spirit Island_, and its tale is that of many an Indian woman,--is in fact the poetic truth of woman's fate among the red men. It tells: