the day before.  He was so bright and resplendent to look upon that she was abashed; she modestly hung down her head and uttered not a word.  But he said to her, ’I am not a stranger.  You saw me last night; you see me every night when the sun is setting.  I love you; you love me; look at me; be not afraid.’  Then she said, ’If you love me, take and eat this basket of grass-seed pinole.’  He touched the basket and in an instant all the pinole vanished in the air, going no man knows whither.  Thereupon the girl fell away in a swoon, and lay a considerable time there upon the ground.  But when the man returned to her behold she had given birth to a son.  And the girl was abashed, and would not look in his face, but she was full of joy because of her new-born son.”

The Indian’s anthropomorphic way of looking at nature (instead of the esthetic or scientific, both of which are as much beyond his mental capacity as the faculty for sentimental love) is also illustrated by the following Dakota tale, showing how two girls got married.[252]

“There were two women lying out of doors and looking up to the shining stars.  One of them said to the other, ’I wish that very large and bright shining star was my husband,’ The other said, ’I wish that star that shines so brightly were my husband.’  Thereupon they both were immediately taken up.  They found themselves in a beautiful country, which was full of twin flowers.  They found that the star which shone most brightly was a large man, while the other was only a young man.  So they each had a husband, and one became with child.”

Fear and superstition are, as we know, among the obstacles which prevent an Indian from appreciating the beauties of nature.  The story of the Yurok siren, as related by Powers (59), illustrates this point: 

“There is a certain tract of country on the north side of the Klamath River which nothing can induce an Indian to enter.  They say that there is a beautiful squaw living there whose fascinations are fatal.  When an Indian sees her he straightway falls desperately in love.  She decoys him farther and farther into the forest, until at last she climbs a tree and the man follows.  She now changes into a panther and kills him; then, resuming her proper form, she cuts off his head and places it in a basket.  She is now, they say, a thousand years old, and has an Indian’s head for every year of her life.”

Such tales as these may well have originated in an Indian’s imagination.  Their local color is correct and charming, and they do not attribute to a savage notions and emotions foreign to his mind and customs.

“WHITE MAN TOO MUCH LIE”