Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-11-20
INDIAN SUMMER.
A Poetic Legend of It's Origin and
Significance.

A Poetic Legend of It's Origin and
Significance.
From the Muskegon Nich) News.
There is beautiful tradition of the In
dams in the poet lore of this vanishing
race of the coming of these marvellous
days-the aftermath of summer. which now
crown the year with a fair fleeting glory,
a dreamlike beauty evanescent and lovely
beyond compare. The legend runs some
what in this wise:
High up in the heavens the sun god, he
whose symbol is the white bird, Wakehon,
looked down upon the. earth and smiled to
himself to see how well he had performed
his labors of the year. Now, the sun god
is not the One-not, Ta-ren-ya-wago, the
holder of the heavens; no, he is only the
Mantle of the sun which is the heart of
the sky. He is fat and fair and lazy, and
sometimes he is cross and very much out
of temper. and at these times earth. sky,
air and water all feel his frowns and often,
too, he is good humored and then things
rejoice in his smiles. But, looking down
and seeing all well done-all the grain
ripened and gathered, all the fruit per-
fected and stored, the meadows lying tran
quill, the forests still and peaceful the
game standardization the Mantle grew rest
i've and bethought himself that he was
much in need of respite from such ex-
ceedingly good behavior-of which he some
times grew very tired. He was not much
given to thinking, but he set himself to il
now to find some speedy way of INDUCING
in such misohievous pranks he felt dis
posed. The better to help his meditations
he filled and lighted his great calumet, his
mighty peace-pipe. and sat down to his
musings. After long time he hit upon a
plan that filled him with glee.
"Aha!' he cried,'T will get me sup and
away to the far frozen northland, where
my brother Peboan (winter) reigns, and I
will help him to strip these forests. still
these rivers and send the icy blasts flying
over the great lakes and waters. and the
whirling, powdery snow drifting high about
the wigwams. 1t will be rare sport to
make my brother Seegwun tspring) work
till he sweats to repair my mischief, and
I'll be back to see him at it.
Then, overcome with this labor of think
ing out things for himself, to which he
was not accustomed, and being yet sur
feited with the great feast OF the Midway
held in the month of the Sturgeon, when
all the fruits and grains, the game and the
flSh are most abundant and delicious, the
lazy sun god failed to note the sly approach
of Wseng, the Spirit of Sleep who with
many hued pinions came softly fiuttering
in the air with gentle browse of murmur-
ing noise which in time stole away the
senses of the Mantle, and while not at all
meaning to linger, yet he drifted away into
peaceful slumber.
Then, while he thus sleeps summer gayly
tarries and fiaunts her most vivid colors in
the face of the stupid sun god; the waters
laugh softly, the winds murmur in gentle
undertone and all things in nature conspre
together to laugh at and mock him, and
yet so quietly as not to disturb his slum-
bers. While he dreams the smoke from his
peace-pipe fills the air-you see it resting
there on the far hills in purple haze, in the
still valleys, on the quiet waters, over all
the landscape like a shimmering veil. And
not till his mighty calumet is smoked out
to the very last spark will the fat and
lazy Mantle awaken.
This, then, is the Indian summer.