THE DREAM. 4. Fast climb'd the sun! the flowers were flown, 5. 'Twas noon, 'twas summer; I beheld Woods darkening in the flush of day, 6. And here was love, and there was strife, 7. Now stooped the sun-the shades grew thin; 8. The river heaved with sullen sounds; The chilly wind was sad with moans; 9. Still waned the day; the wind that chased 10. And of the young, and strong, and fair, Linger'd and shiver'd to the air Of that bleak shore and water bleak. 11 Ah! age is drear, and death is cold! 357 1 Mon u ment' al, pertaining to a monument or tomb; preserving memory.- Wåned, decreased; wasted. 12. 'Twas thus I heard the dreamer say, And både her clear her clouded brow; 13. "Watch we in calmness, as they rise, Shall open in the morning beam." W. C. BRYANT. 153. THE WHITE STONE CANOE. HERE was once a very beautiful young girl, who died sud THERE denly on the day she was to have been married to a handsome young man. He was also brave, but his heart was not proof against this loss. From the hour she was buried, there was no more joy or peace for him. He went often to visit the spot where the women had buried her, and sat musing there, when, it was thought, by some of his friends, he would have done better to try to amuse himself in the chase, or by diverting his thoughts in the war-path. But war and hunting had bōth lost their charms for him. His heart was already dead within him. He pushed aside both his war-club and his bow and ǎrrows. 2. He had heard the old people say, that there was a path that led to the land of souls, and he determined to follow it. He accordingly set out, one morning, after having completed his preparations for the journey. At first he hardly knew which. way to go. He was only guided by the tradition that he must go south. For a while he could see no change in the face of the country. Forests, and hills, and valleys, and streams had the same looks which they wore in his native place. There was snow on the ground when he set out, and it was sometimes seen to be piled and matted on the thick trees and bushes. At length it began to diminish, and finally disappeared. The forest assumed a more cheerful appearance, the leaves put fōrth their buds, and before he was aware of the completeness of the change. he found himself surrounded by spring. THE WHITE STONE CANOE. 359 3. He had left behind him the land of snow and ice. The air became mild, the dark clouds of winter had rolled away from the sky; a pure field of blue was above him, and as he went he saw flowers beside his path, and heard the songs of birds. By these signs he knew that he was going the right way, for they agreed with the traditions of his tribe. At length he spied a path. It led him through a grove, then up a long and elevated ridge, on the very top of which he came to a lodge. At the door stood an old man, with white hair, whose eyes, though deeply sunk, had a fiery brilliancy. He had a long robe of skins thrown loosely around his shoulders, and a staff in his hands. 4. The young Chippewayan began to tell his story; but the venerable chief arrested him before he had proceeded to speak ten words. "I have expected you," he replied, "and had just risen to bid you welcome to my abode. She whom you seek passed here but a few days since, and being fatigued with her journey, rested herself here. Enter my lodge and be seated, and I will then satisfy your inqui'ries, and give you directions for your journey from this point." Having done this, they bōth issued forth to the lodge door. "You see yonder gulf," said he, "and the wide-stretching blue plains beyond. It is the land of souls. You stand upon its borders, and my lodge is the gate of entrance. But you can not take your body along. Leave it here with your bow and arrows, your bundle, and your dog. You will find them safe on your return." Birds 5. So saying, he reëntered the lodge, and the freed traveler bounded forward as if his feet had suddenly been endowed with the power of wings. But all things retained their natural colors and shapes. The woods and leaves, and streams and lakes, were only more bright and comely than he had ever witnessed. Animals bounded across his path, with a freedom and a confidence which seemed to tell him there was no blood shed here. of beautiful plumage inhabited the groves, and sported in the waters. There was but one thing in which he saw a very unusual effect. He noticed that his passage was not stopped by trees or other objects. He appeared to walk directly through them. They were, in fact, but the souls or shadows of material trees. He became sensible that he was in a land of shadows. 6. When he bad traveled half a day's journey, through a country which was continually becoming more attractive, he came to the banks of a broad lake, in the center of which was a large and beautiful island. He found a canoe of shining white stone, tied to the shore. He was now sure that he had come the right path, for the agèd man had told him of this. There were also shining paddles. He immediately entered the canoe, and took the paddles in his hands, when, to his joy and surprise, on turning round he beheld the object of his search in another canoe, exactly its counterpart in every thing. She had exact y imitated his motions, and they were side by side. 7. They at once pushed out from shore and began to cross the lake. Its waves seemed to be rising, and at a distance looked ready to swallow them up; but just as they entered the whitened edge of them they seemed to melt away, as if they were but the images of waves. But no sooner was one wreath of foam passed, than another, more threatening still, rose up. Thus they were in perpetual fear; and what added to it, was the clearness of the water, through which they could see heaps of beings who had perished before, and whose bones lay strewed on the bottom of the lake. The Master of Life had, however, decreed to let them pass, for the actions of neither of them had been bad. But they saw many others struggling and sinking in the waves. Old men and young men, males and females of all ages and ranks, were there; some passed and some sank. It was only the little children whose canoes seemed to meet no waves. 8. At length every difficulty was gone, as in a moment, and they both leaped out on the happy island. They felt that the věry air was food. It strengthened and nourished them. They wandered together over the blissful fields, where every thing was formed to please the eye and the ear. There were no tempests-there was no ice, no chilly winds-no one shivered for the want of warm clothes: no one suffered for hunger-no one mourned for the dead. They saw no graves. They heard of no wars. There was no hunting of animals; for the air itself was their food. Gladly would the young warrior have remained there forever, but he was obliged to go back for his body. He did not see the Master of Life, but he heard his voice in a soft breeze. came. WHERE IS THE SPIRIT-LAND? 361 9. "Go back," said this voice, "to the land from whence you Your time has not yet come. The duties for which I made you, and which you are to perform, are not yet finished. Return to your people, and accomplish the duties of a good man. You will be the ruler of your tribe for many days. The rules you must observe will be told you by my messenger, who keeps the gate. When he surrenders back your body, he will tell you what to do. Listen to him and you shall afterward rejoin the spirit, which you must now leave behind. She is accepted and will be ever here, as young and as happy as she was when I first called her from the land of snows." When this voice ceased, the narra'tor awoke. It was the fancy work of a dream, and he was still in the bitter land of snows, and hunger, and tears. H. R. SCHOOLCRAFT. 1. 154. WHERE IS THE SPIRIT-LAND? ANSWER me, burning stars of night! Where hath the spirit gone, That past the reach of human sight, And the stars answer'd me-"We roll But of the never-dying soul, 2. O many-toned and chainless wind, Tell me if thou its place canst find, 3. Ye clouds that gorgeously repose Answer! have ye a home for those |