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[Illustration: FRONTISPIECE. _Vol. 3._
_Designed & Etched by W. H. Brooks A. R. H. A._
In a moment multitudes of bright beings start up--"He is ours"!!! _page 110._

_London, Published by Colburn & Bentley--April 1830._]




TRADITIONS OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS:

                BEING

    A SECOND AND REVISED EDITION OF

      "TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP."

                  BY

         JAMES ATHEARN JONES.

           IN THREE VOLUMES.

              VOL. III.

LONDON:
HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY,
NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1830.
F. SHOBERL, JUN., LONG ACRE.




CONTENTS

OF

THE THIRD VOLUME.

                                                          Page
  The Lake of the White Canoe                                 1
  A Legend of the Bomelmeeks                                 33
  The King of the Elks                                       47
  The Daughters of the Sun                                   77
  The Maiden and the Bird                                    91
  The Island of Eagles                                      117
  Legend of Aton-Larre                                      145
  The Fire-Spirit                                           167
  The Origin of Women                                       175
  The Hill of Fecundity. A Tradition of the Minnatarees     183
  TALES OF A WHITE MAN'S GHOST.
      I. Garanga                                            191
     II. The Warning of Tekarrah                            213
    III. The Legend of Pomperaug                            237
     IV. The Son of Annawan                                 251
      V. The Cascade of Melsingah                           279
  Legend of Coatuit Brook                                   305
  The Spirits of Vapour                                     313
  The Devil of Cape Higgin                                  321




TALES OF AN INDIAN CAMP.




THE LAKE OF THE WHITE CANOE.


    Wo! Wo! Wo
    Wo to the sons of the far-off land,
    Weak in heart and pale in face,
    Deer in battle, moose in a race,
    Panthers wanting claw and tooth
    Wo to the red man, strong of hand,
    Steady of purpose, lithe of limb,
    Calm in the toils of the foe,
    Knowing nor tears nor ruth
    Wo to them and him,
    If, cast by hard fate at the midnight damp,
    Or an hour of storm in the dismal swamp,
    That skirts the Lake of the White Canoe!

    Wo to him and them,
    If, when the night's dim lamps are veil'd,
    And the Hunter's Star is hid,
    And the moon has shut her lid,
    For their wearied limbs the only birth
    Be the cold and frosty earth,
    And their flesh be burnt by the gum exhal'd
    From the cedar's poisonous stem,
    And steep'd in the blistering dew
    Of the barren vine in the birchen copse,
    Where rear the pines their giant tops
    Above the Lake of the White Canoe!

    My brother hears--'t is well--
    And let him shun the spot,
    The damp and dismal brake,
    That skirts the shallow lake,
    The brown and stagnant pool[A],
    The dark and miry fen,
    And let him never at nightfall spread
    His blanket among the isles that dot
    The surface of that lake;
    And let my brother tell
    The men of his race that the wolf hath fed
    Ere now on warriors brave and true,
    In the fearful Lake of the White Canoe.

    Wo! Wo! Wo!
    To him that sleeps in those dark fens!
    The she-wolf will stir the brake,
    And the copper-snake breathe in his ear,
    And the bitterns will start by tens,
    And the slender junipers shake
    With the weight of the nimble bear,
    And the pool resound with the cayman's plash,
    And the owl will hoot in the boughs of the ash,
    Where he sits so calm and cool;
    Above his head, the muckawiss[B]
    Will sing his gloomy song;
    Frogs will scold in the pool,
    To see the musk-rat carry along
    The perch to his hairy brood;
    And, coil'd at his feet, the horn-snake will hiss,
    Nor last nor least of the throng,
    The shades of the youth and maid so true,
    That haunt the Lake of the White Canoe.

    And, if he chance to sleep,
    Still will his