chief a visit, taking the widow and her son along with him. He found him seated at the door of his tent, enjoying a nice breeze of a fine summer's morning, and was welcomed by the old chief with kind manners and the word "Sago," meaning, "How do you do?" Judge W—— presented his daughter and her little boy to the old chief, and said they had come to live in his country; they were anxious to live in peace with them, and introduce among them the arts of civilization. Listening to these words, the chief said,—

"Brother, you ask much and promise much; what pledge can you give of your good faith?"

Judge.—"The honor of a man who never knew deceit."

Sachem.—"The white man's word may be good to the white man, yet it is but wind when spoken to the Indian."

Judge.—"I have put my life into your hands by coming hither; is not this a proof of my good intentions? I have trusted the Indian, and I will not believe that he will abuse or betray my trust."

"So much is well," said the chief; "the Indian repays trust with trust: if you will hurt him, he will hurt you. But I must have a pledge. Leave this boy with me in my wigwam, and I will bring him back to you in three days with my answer."

If an arrow had pierced the bosom of the young mother, she could not have felt a sharper pang than that which the Indian's proposal had caused her.

She flew towards her boy, who stood beside the chief looking into his face with pleased and innocent wonder, and, snatching him to her arms, would have rushed away with him.

A gloomy frown came over the sachem's brow, and he remained silent.

The judge knew that all their lives depended upon a right action at once; and following his daughter, who was retreating with her child into the woods, he said to her, "Stay, stay, my daughter; bring back the child, I beg of you! I would not risk a hair of his head, for he is as dear to me as to you,—but, my child, he must remain with the chief! God will watch over him, and he will be as safe in the sachem's wigwam as in your arms beneath your own roof." She yielded, and her darling boy was left; but who can tell the agony of the mother's heart during the following days?

Every night she awoke from her sleep, seeming to hear the screams of her child calling upon its mother for help. How slowly and heavily passed the hours away. But at last the third day came. The morning waned away, and the afternoon was far advanced, yet the chief came not. There was sorrow over the whole home, and the mother, pale and silent, walked her room in despair. The judge, filled with anxious doubts and fears, looked through the opening in the forest towards the sachem's abode.

At last, as the rays of the setting sun were thrown upon the tops of the tall trees around, the eagle feathers of the chief were seen dancing above the bushes in the distance. He came rapidly, and the little boy was at his side. He was gayly attired as a young chief: his feet dressed in moccasins, a fine beaver-skin thrown over his shoulders, and eagle's feathers stuck in his hair. He was laughing and gay, and so proud of his honors that he seemed two inches taller than before. He was soon clasped in his mother's arms, and in that brief moment of joy she seemed to pass from death to life.

"The white man has conquered!" said the chief; "hereafter let us be friends. You have trusted the Indian; he will repay you with confidence and kindness."

And he was true to his word. Judge W—— lived many years, laying there the foundation of that flourishing community which has spread over a wide extent of western New York.

The Far West, in my childhood, meant the "Genesee country," as far as the falls of Niagara.

BIG THUNDER—A WINNEBAGO CHIEF.

The Winnebago Indians migrated from Belvidere, Illinois, on the Kish-wau-kie River, to Minnesota, and thence to the Omaha reservation, in Nebraska. At Belvidere, there is a mound on which Big Thunder when he died was set up, his body supported by posts driven in the ground. This was done at his dying request, and in accord with his prophecy to his tribe: "That there was to be a great and terrible fight between the white and red men. And when the red men were about to be beaten in the battle, he would come to life again, and rising up with a shout, would lead his people to victory!" His tribe would visit the spot once a year, where his body was drying away, and leave tobacco as an offering; and the white young men would surely go there soon after and stow the plugs away in their capacious pockets. As the town became settled, visitors would carry off the bones as mementos of the old chief. After they were all gone, some wags would place the bones of some dead sheep for relic-hunters to pick up and carry home as the bones of a noble chief.

I have seen the stakes, which was all that remained of "Big Thunder" after he was dried up and blown away.

INDIAN TRADITION—THE DELUGE.

The Oneidas have a tradition about the deluge, which is very singular. According to their story, an unlimited expanse of water covered the whole space now occupied by the world we live in.

At this time the whole human family dwelt in a country situated in the upper regions of the air. Everything needed for comfort and pleasure was found. The people did not know what death was, nor its attendant, sickness or disease; and their minds were free from jealousy, hatred, or revenge.

At length it happened that all of this was changed, and care and trouble came to them.

A certain youth was seen to withdraw himself from the circle of social amusements, and he wandered away alone in the groves, as his favorite resort.

Care and sorrow marked his countenance, and his body, from long abstinence from food, began to make him look to his friends like a skeleton of a man. Anxious looks could not solve the mystery of his grief; and by-and-by, weakened in body and soul, he yielded to his companions, and promised to disclose the cause of his trouble, on condition that they would dig up by the roots a certain pine-tree, lay him in his blanket by the edge of the hole, and place his wife by his side; at once all hands were ready. The fatal tree was taken up by the roots; in doing which the earth was opened, and a passage made into the abyss below. The blanket was spread by the hole; the youth lay upon it the wife also (soon to be a mother) took her seat by his side. The crowd, anxious to know the cause of such strange and unheard-of conduct, pressed close around; when, all of a sudden, to their horror and surprise, he seized upon the woman and threw her headlong into the regions of darkness below! Then, rising from the ground, he told the people that he had for some time suspected that his wife was untrue to him, and so, having got rid of the cause of his trouble, he would soon recover his health and spirits.

All those amphibious animals which now inhabit this world then roamed through the watery waste to which this woman, in her fall, was now hastening. The loon first discovered her coming, and called a council in haste to prepare for her reception,—observing that the animal which approached was a human being, and that earth was necessary for its accommodation. The first thing to be thought of was, who should support the burden?

The sea-bear first presented himself for a trial of his strength. At once the other animals gathered round and jumped upon his back; while the bear, unable to bear up such a weight, sank beneath the water, and was by all the crowd judged unequal to support the weight of the earth. Several others presented themselves, were tried, and found wanting. But last of all came the turtle, modestly tendering his broad shell as the basis of the earth now to be formed. The beasts then made a trial of his strength to bear by heaping themselves on his back, and finding by their united pressure they could not sink him below the surface, adjudged him the honor of supporting the