INDIAN CORN: A LEGEND.

BY BENSON J. LOSSING.

The unwritten and sometimes pictorial literature of the North American Indians abounds with much poetic thought. The creations of their dark minds in meagre language often assume the forms of really beautiful legends, especially those which relate to the origin of created things—thunder, wind, and rain; the sun, moon, and stars; beasts, birds, and fishes; grain, fruit, and flowers; and the races of men. These constitute the fabric of their narrow mythology.

One of these legends tells us that a youth, the son of a sachem living on the borders of one of our great lakes was impelled by a thirst for wisdom to go far into the forest, where hunters seldom trod, to a sunny savanna, to fast and pray in solitude. It was early in May, when song-birds had just returned with the south wind, and were beginning to warble their love ditties.

There the youth built for himself a lodge, and covered it with the odorous sprays of the balsam-fir, leaving a wide opening for the admission of light. He painted his face in sombre colors, and like the old Christian hermits, who sought the favor of Heaven by penitential humiliation in the solitude of the desert, this pious barbarian prince sought light and knowledge in this lonely spot, in humble obeisance of body and soul before the Master of Life. To the Great Spirit he prayed for some bounteous gift for the benefit of his race.

Day and night this youth fasted, until, famished and weak, he lay down in his lodge at noonday, and slept. Toward evening he awoke, and looking up through the opening in the boughs above him into the blue depths of the heavens, he saw descending from the azure vault the form of a beautiful young man robed in a bright green garment, his head adorned with plumes of green and gold colors. Standing at the door of the lodge, this embodied spirit said:

"Arise, faithful boy, and come forth. Only by wrestling with me can you obtain the coveted blessing which you seek. I am Oneasti [Maize], a child of the Sun, and a friend of mankind."

The weak youth obeyed. The evening sunlight spread a delicious glow over the dark forest and the little prairie, casting long shadows from the woods across the springing grass and the timid flowers, then first beholding the face of their great King and Creator. So soon as the youth touched his celestial visitant, moral strength that gave promise of victory in the contest thrilled his whole being. For an hour they wrestled, when the dusky prince, with bodily strength exhausted, retired to his lodge for repose.

The next day Oneasti again summoned the youth to the wrestling. Greater than before was his moral strength, and Hope bade him persevere. Again, on the third day, did the wrestlers contend, with the same result, when Oneasti said:

"To-morrow will be the seventh day of your fast, and the last time I shall wrestle with you. You will triumph over me, and gain your wishes. As soon as you have thrown me on the ground, strip off my garments, and bury me on the spot in soft fresh earth. When you have done this, leave me for a while, but come occasionally to visit my grave, and keep the noxious weeds from growing upon it. Once or twice cover me with fresh earth."

Oneasti then vanished, but the next morning he stood at the door of the lodge, and again summoned the young prince to combat. Long they contended. In the struggle the strength of the youth continually increased, until he threw Oneasti on the ground. Then he faithfully obeyed the instructions of his celestial friend. Carefully removing the tender greensward, he laid the body of the vanquished in the earth, and covered it with fresh, well-pulverized mould. Then he returned to his home, his face radiant with joy as the undoubted heir to a great treasure.

The young prince soon returned, and was delighted to see the green plumes of the heavenly stranger springing up from the earth through the soft mould, but contending with unsightly weeds for the privilege of light and air. These incumbrances to growth were removed, and the earth around was kept fresh and clean. In due time the youth was charmed by the vision of a stately plant, taller than himself, surmounted with tassels of flowers of clustered spikes, and bearing delicious fruit incased in sheaths of long leaves, and lined with silk. When the frost season approached, this fruit became hard, golden-hued grain, containing most nutritious food for man and beast. The plant gracefully waved its long leaves and golden tassels in the autumn wind.

"Come," said the young prince to his parents, on a soft October day, "and I will show you a great blessing from the Master of Life."

They followed him to the sunny savanna, where hoar-frost lay hidden in shaded nooks. They pounded the golden grains, and made cakes from the flour thereof.

"It is Men-du-min, the grain of the Great Spirit," said the father.

They invited their friends to a feast on the excellent grain, and there were soon great rejoicings among many nations because of the boon. It was Maize. When Europeans came, centuries afterward, they called it Indian Corn. It proved to be as great a blessing to them as it had been to their barbarian neighbors. To-day it is the food of thousands of Christians and pagans, civilized men and savages, from the Gulf of Mexico far toward the frigid zone. It is indeed Men-du-min—the grain of the Great Spirit.