" 'Why should I stay, —he is gone. Light of my eyes, —joy of my soul, —show me thy dwelling!— 'Tis not here, —'tis far away in the Spirit Land. Thither he is gone. Why should I stay? Let me go!'
" 'Hear you that?' said one.' She sings her death song. She will throw herself from the cliff!'
"At this, a dozen warriors, headed by him who claimed her hand, started to rescue the sweet singer from intended self-destruction.
"Again she chants:
" 'Spirit of Death, set me free! Dreary is earth. Joyless is time. Heart, thou art desolate! Wed thee another? Nay. Death is thy husband! Farewell, oh sun! Vain is your light. Farewell, oh earth! Vain are your plains, your flowers, your grassy dales, your purling streams, and shady groves! I loved you once, —but now no longer love! Tasteless are your sweets, —cheerless your pleasures! Thee I woo, kind Death! Wahuspa calls me hence. In life we were one. We'll bask together in the Spirit Land. Who shall sunder there? Short is my pass to thee. Wahuspa, I come!'
"Upon this she threw herself forward, as the warriors grasped at her; but, leaving her robe in their hands, she plunged headlong and was dashed to pieces among the rocks below!25
"E'er since, the young warrior sighs as he beholds this peak, and thinks of the maiden's death song.
"Conversing upon the subject of medicine-men, he was asked, why those individuals are so highly esteemed by his people? To this he replied:
"These men are regarded as the peculiar favorites of the Great Spirit, to whom is imparted a more than ordinary share of His power and wisdom. We respect them, therefore, in proportion to the abilities they receive, even as we reverence the Great Spirit.”
Here the question was proposed, how are their abilities above those of others?
"The Yellow-hair counts as his soldier Tahtunga-mobellu, — man of strong medicine. To him the Great Spirit has imparted the power of healing, by imbibing, at pleasure, the diseases of the sick, and discharging them from his eyes and nose in the form of live snakes.26
"On a time, years past, our young men went to the Pawnees and came back crying; for sixteen slain of their number were left to grace an enemy's triumph.
"It was winter, and the moans of men and maidens mingled with the howling winds. Sorrow beclouded every brow, and brave looked upon brave as if to enquire,' Who shall wipe out this disgrace?' Then it was a medicine-chief stood up, and his words were:
" 'Be it for me to consult the Good Spirit.'
