The motion of the frail bark was at first gentle, but only for a short time:  every moment its speed became accelerated, until, even before it reached the plunge, it seemed to fly like the swallow.  Calmly guiding its fearful course sat the young man, his eyes fixed upon the narrow opening between the rocks.  And now the canoe is at the brink of the Falls—­it leaps like the salmon when he journeys up the stream—­it is gone!—­the raging waters have devoured it—­no, I see it again—­the arm of Magisaunikwa is strong, and the paddle unbroken.  Help, Manito! he is dashed against the rock at the throat—­no, the canoe is whirled round and darts away, and I behold it gliding with the youth over the quiet water.  The Great Spirit hath protected him.

A shout, rivalling the roar of the Falls, went up from the assembled multitude, and they rose with songs such as welcome returned warriors to greet the successful hero.

But Wampum-hair received their congratulations and their praises with indifference.  With eyes fixed on the ground, he suffered himself to be borne in triumph to the spot, where, on a platform of rock, stood the beautiful Leelinau.  What were the thoughts that passed through her mind?  Was she proud of being the object of a love so true and daring, or did she lament the necessity of accepting a lord?  Wampum-hair approached, and before his calm, sorrowing eyes, her own sunk to the ground.  Searching was his look, as if to descry the secrets of her soul, and at last he spoke.

“Leelinau,” he said, “the Great Spirit created thee loveliest among the daughters of women; wherefore gave he thee not a heart?

“Leelinau, Wampum-hair will sigh no more for thee.  Henceforth, thou art to him only a flower or a painted bird.

“Leelinau, the waters of the Yaupaae have extinguished the fire that burned here,” and he laid his hand on his heart.  He turned upon his heel and left the assemblage.

Astonishment at the address of Magisaunikwa at first held all mute, but presently a cry for revenge arose among the kinsmen of the slighted maiden.  But the commanding voice of the wise Aishkwagon-ai-bee stilled the tumult.

“The blood of the mighty Ojeeg,” he said, “cannot mingle with water.  The Great Spirit hath taken this way to release Leelinau from a promise which He is displeased that she made.”

Whatever might have been the vindictive feelings of the relations of Leelinau, their resentment was never visited on the head of the young hunter.  Once, it is said, two brothers of the rejected maiden lay in ambush to take his life; but as he passed unconsciously near them, and the fatal arrows were drawn to the head against his bosom, Manabozho appeared and forbade the deed.