She considered a moment idly.
"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much
of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes
like this," she began comfortably: "Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil
Manitou named Ne-naw-bo-shoo. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he
was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape
he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he
was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were
fat, and people could get food from them, but Ne-naw-bo-shoo walked
through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the
trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple
sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but Ne-naw-bo-shoo diluted it
with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing
about Ne-naw-bo-shoo. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver.
There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back--repelled
him.
"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east
of here. One of them was named Mon-e-dowa, or the Bird Lover, and the
other was Muj-e-ah-je-wan, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked
over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit,
Ne-naw-bo-shoo, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending
to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom.
"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that Muj-e-ah-je-wan
stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that Mon-e-dowa
stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked
Ne-naw-bo-shoo gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly.
"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with
pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they
knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they
had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and
concealed themselves.
"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon
too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain
were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days
he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went
away.
"Then Mon-e-dowa and Muj-e-ah-je-wan, who had been living quite
peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the
cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the
level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they
knew they had been aided by Man-a-boo-sho, the good Manitou."