“Let the great chief say what he would have, and the arm of Wampum-hair shall be strong to do his will.  For the sake of Leelinau he would please her father.”

The Sachem paused, and gazed with pleasure on the kindling features of the young man.  He was a wise chief, and desired the good of his people.  In those days the panthers, driven from the north by a severe winter, infested the country in great numbers, and threatened to destroy the game, on which the Indians depended for subsistence.  Although many had been killed, there still remained enough to ravage the land and do serious injury; and they had become so cunning by being frequently hunted that they almost uniformly succeeded in eluding the chase.  It would be a public service, though a difficult undertaking, to exterminate the ravenous animals.  He therefore said:—­

“Let Magisaunikwa bring me a conaus made of the scalps of panthers, and another for Leelinau, and he shall have the strong word of a chief to whisper commendations of the hunter in the ears of the maiden.”

“It is well.  The words of the great chief are pleasant, and my ears drink them up as the thirsty sand the drops of rain.  The feet of Wampum-hair are swift; his arrows are true, and they shall pierce the screaming panther.”

That same day, so eager was the young hunter to commence the chase, he started for those parts of the forest where the game was most likely to be found.  Many were the beasts destroyed by him, so that a little child might wander in security ten days’ journey, in every direction, from the lodge of the Sachem, and narrow were the escapes from death of the intrepid hunter, and yet scarcely scalps enough were obtained to make a conaus or wrapper for the sloping shoulders of Leelinau.  In vain, the enamored youth extended his hunt still further, even twenty days’ journey from his starting point.  Only at long intervals was a beast discovered, but, finally, not one was to be found, and the youth awoke to the conviction that he had been made a dupe to the cunning of the Sachem.

After a fruitless chase he was musing one day sorrowfully over his disappointed hopes, ashamed to go back to his village, to which he had never returned without success before, when, suddenly, a man of majestic presence stood before him.  His nose was like the beak of an eagle, and his eyes resembled fires in a dark night.  Strange feathers, of brilliant colors, were woven into his scalp-lock; a magnificent robe of skins depended from his shoulders; and in his hand he held a long spear, tipped with a pointed stone.

“My brother is sad,” he said.  “Let my brother give me the half of his grief to bear.”

Thus exhorted, Magisaunikwa disclosed the cause of his dejection to his sympathizing friend.

“Is that all?” said the stranger.  “Return, and thou shalt find the conaus in thy lodge, and when thou beholdest them, remember they are the gift of Manabozho.  I am Manabozho.”