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Chapter 8
- Michigan State University Press
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· 159 · CHAPTER 8 When “wabigoni gissis”1 came, and mating birds were moving north in song, and wild flowers were blooming, and the trees were putting on their robes of green, I took the hand of my dear, young, loved Lonidaw, and she became my bride. No wedding cards were passed around, no gifts were made, no bells were rung, no feast was given, no priest declared us one. We only pledged our sincere faith before her mother and the King of Heaven. Our hopes, our joys were one. Hand in hand, along an ancient trail we took our course until we reached a land of game. Here we paused, and like two mated birds that search and find a place to build “widj wasiswanog” (their nests of mud and straw) so we, beside “sagaigan” (an inland lake), where towering woods embrowed its shore and flags, rushes, and “manomin” (wild rice) in plenty could be found, built our wigwam home of bark and poles. There, oft at morning dawn and evening tide, we fished from out our birch canoe; and that she might have more success than I, ofttimes I would bait well her hook and let my own go bare, then wonder why she caught more fish than I. And oft returning from the chase, weary and tired of carrying 1.The moon of flowers and bloom corresponding to the last of May and the first of June. · 160 · Simon Pokagon game, I’d follow down the trail upon a narrow neck of land that ran into the lake toward our home. As I would emerge from out the woods upon the open shore, I never failed to see Lonidaw’s erect and slender form on hasty run, to get the boat to bring me home, No “wobisi” (swan) ever faster swam or more elegantly appeared than she, when bending to the oars, pushing “widg wigwastchiman” (her birch canoe) across the swelling bosom of the lake. As she would approach me while waiting on the shore, I always hailed her, “Hoi (Hallo), Ogimawkwe Mitigwaki (Queen of the Woods).” No “asawajonia” (gold) could buy the joy of admiration born in my soul, as I would catch the scornful glances of her eyes, almost concealed amid approving smiles. On our return across the lake she would cling to the oars and have me steer. I always felt her image in my heart, and loved to see it in the lake; and oft would ask if her feelings were akin to mine. Her only answer was an approving glance and downcast smile. Thus, happy in each other’s love, we floated down life’s stream, all unprepared for cataracts and rocks along the shore. Some modest forest flowers were all the jewelry she ever wore;to keep a fresh supply of these, she taught “Zowan” (her dog), while yet young, to gather them from lake and land. In early spring time, at morning’s dawn, with basket in his mouth, he would run into the deep, wild woods, fill it with the fairest flowers, then returning, drop them at her feet in great delight.And later on, at sunrise each day, when “nabagashk” (water lilies) began to bloom, he would swim into the lake, and bring them to her by the mouthful, dripping with their diamonds of water. Two years flew quickly by, when Olondaw, our first child, was born. The night he came, no man of skill, or neighbors, gathered at our home. Alone, in the presence of the Great Spirit and myself, Lonidaw went down to the gateway of death’s dark valley, and brought forth our darling boy, together with a father’s and a mother’s crown, one for her, and one for me. As I beheld, in the first morning light, our cherished infant nestling on “o kakigan” (her breast), and saw Lonidaw smile in triumph as she gazed on me, my love, respect, and sympathy for her were all at sea without a shore. No morning press or busy tongues proclaimed that the child was born and mother doing well, but all about our woodland home wild birds and flowers rejoiced with us, and we were richly blessed, feeling the dear boy was sent of “Wawkwi” (Heaven) to our wigwam, as a seal to our Queen of the Woods· 161 · union, that it might not be broken; for if there is one holy tie of love more sacred than the rest, it is that a true...