by W. H. Rhodes
[Decoration]
IX.
_LEGENDS OF LAKE BIGLER._
I.--THE HAUNTED ROCK.
A great many years ago, ere the first white man had trodden the soil ofthe American continent, and before the palaces of Uxmal and Palenquewere masses of shapeless ruins--whilst the splendid structures, nowlining the banks of the Gila with broken columns and fallen domes wereinhabited by a nobler race than the cowardly Pimos or the IshmaelitishApaches, there lived and flourished on opposite shores of Lake Biglertwo rival nations, disputing with each other for the supremacy of thisinland sea, and making perpetual war in order to accomplish the objectof their ambition.
The tribe dwelling upon the western shore was called the Ako-ni-tas,whilst those inhabiting what is now the State of Nevada were known bythe name of Gra-so-po-itas. Each nation was subdivided into smallerprincipalities, over which subordinate sachems, or chiefs, presided. Innumber, physical appearance, and advance in the arts of civilization,both very much resembled, and neither could be said to have decidedlythe pre-eminence.
At the time my story commences, Wan-ta-tay-to was principal chief orking of the Ako-ni-tas, or, as they were sometimes designated,O-kak-o-nitas, whilst Rhu-tog-au-di presided over the destinies of theGra-so-po-itas. The language spoken by these tribes were dialects ofthe same original tongue, and could be easily understood the one by theother. Continued intercourse, even when at war, had assimilated theircustoms, laws and religion to such a degree that it often became amatter of grave doubt as to which tribe occasional deserters belonged.Intermarriage between the tribes was strictly forbidden, and punishedwith death in all cases, no matter what might be the rank, power orwealth of the violators of the law.
At this era the surface of the lake was about sixty feet higher than atthe present time. Constant evaporation, or perhaps the wearing channelof the Truckee, has contributed to lower the level of the water, and thesame causes still continue in operation, as is clearly perceptible bythe watermarks of previous years. Thousands of splendid canoeseverywhere dotted its surface; some of them engaged in the peacefulavocations of fishing and hunting, whilst the large majority were mannedand armed for immediate and deadly hostilities.
The year preceding that in which the events occurred herein related, hadbeen a very disastrous one to both tribes. A great many deaths hadensued from casualties in battle; but the chief source of disaster hadbeen a most terrific hurricane, which had swept over the lake,upsetting, sinking, and destroying whole fleets of canoes, with allpersons aboard at the time. Amongst the lost were both the royal barges,with the sons and daughters of the chiefs. The loss had been sooverwhelming and general that the chief of the O-kak-o-nitas had but onesolitary representative of the line royal left, and that was a beloveddaughter named Ta-kem-ena. The rival chieftain was equally unfortunate,for his entire wigwam had perished with the exception of Mo-ca-ru-po,his youngest son. But these great misfortunes, instead of producingpeace and good-will, as a universal calamity would be sure to do in anenlightened nation, tended only to embitter the passions of the hostilekings and lend new terrors to the war. At once made aware of what theother had suffered, each promulgated a sort of proclamation, offering animmense reward for the scalp of his rival's heir.
Wan-ta-tay-to declared that he would give one half his realm towhomsoever brought the body of Mo-ca-ru-po, dead or alive, within hislines; and Rhu-tog-au-di, not to be outdone in extravagance, registeredan oath that whosoever captured Ta-kem-ena, the beautiful daughter ofhis enemy, should be rewarded with her patrimonial rights, and also beassociated with him in ruling his own dominions.
As is universally the case with all American Indians, the females areequally warlike and sometimes quite as brave as the males. Ta-kem-enawas no exception to this rule, and she accordingly made instantpreparations to capture or kill the heir to the throne of her enemy. Forthis purpose she selected a small, light bark canoe, and resolved allalone to make the attempt. Nor did she communicate her intention to anyone else. Her father, even, was kept in profound ignorance of hisdaughter's design.
About the same time, a desire for fame, and a thirsting for supremepower, allured young Mo-ca-ru-po into the lists of those who becamecandidates for the recent reward offered by his father. He, too,determined to proceed alone.
It was just at midnight, of a beautiful moonlight evening, that theyoung scions of royalty set forth from opposite shores of the lake, andstealthily paddled for the dominions of their enemies. When about halfacross the boats came violently into collision. Each warrior seized armsfor the conflict. The light of the full moon, riding at mid-heavens,fell softly upon the features of the Princess, and at the same timeilluminated those of the young Prince.
The blows from the uplifted battle-axes failed to descend. The poisonedarrows were returned to their quivers. Surprise gave place quickly toadmiration--that to something more human--pity followed close in therear, and love, triumphant everywhere, paralyzed the muscles, benumbedthe faculties, and captured the souls of his victims. Pouring a handfulof the pure water of the lake upon each other's heads, as a pledge oflove, and a ceremonial of marriage, in another moment the two werelocked in each other's arms, made man and wife by the yearnings of thesoul, and by a destiny which naught but Omnipotent Power could avert.What were the commands of kings, their threats, or their punishments, inthe scale with youth, and hope, and love?
Never did those transparent waters leap more lightly beneath themoonbeams than upon this auspicious night. Hate, revenge, fame, power,all were forgotten in the supreme delights of love.
Who, indeed, would not be a lover? The future takes the hue of therainbow, and spans the whole earth with its arch. The past fades intoinstant oblivion, and its dark scenes are remembered no more. Everybeautiful thing looks lovelier--spring's breath smells sweeter--theheavens bend lower--the stars shine brighter. The eyes, the lips, thesmiles of the loved one, bankrupt all nature. The diamond's gleam, theflower's blush, the fountain's purity, are all _her_ own! The antelope'sswiftness, the buffalo's strength, the lion's bravery, are but thereflex of _his_ manly soul!
Fate thus had bound these two lovers in indissoluble bonds: let us nowsee what it had left in reserve.
The plashing of paddles aroused the lovers from their caressing. Quicklyleaping into his own boat, side by side, they flew over the exultantwaves, careless for the moment whither they went, and really aimless intheir destination. Having safely eluded their pursuers, if such theywere, the princes now consulted as to their future course. After longand anxious debate it was finally determined that they should part forthe present, and would each night continue to meet at midnight at themajestic rock which towered up from the waves high into the heavens, notfar from what is now known as Pray's Farm, that being the residence andheadquarters of the O-kak-oni-ta tribe.
Accordingly, after many protestations of eternal fidelity, and warned bythe ruddy gleam along the eastern sky, they parted.
Night after night, for many weeks and months, the faithful lovers met atthe appointed place, and proved their affection by their constancy. Theysoon made the discovery that the immense rock was hollow, and containeda magnificent cave. Here, safe from all observation, the tardy monthsrolled by, both praying for peace, yet neither daring to mention atermination of hostilities to their sires. Finally, the usualconcomitants of lawful wedlock began to grow manifest in the roundedform of the Princess--in her sadness, her drooping eyes, and herperpetual uneasiness whilst in the presence of her father. Not able anylonger to conceal her griefs, they became the court scandal, and shewas summoned to the royal presence and required to name her lover. This,of course, she persisted in refusing, but spies having been set upon hermovements, herself and lover were surrounded and entrapped in the fatalcave.
In vain did she plead for the life of the young prince, regardless ofher own. His doom was sealed. An embassador was sent to Rhu-tog-au-di,announcing the treachery of his son, and inviting that chief to bepresent at the immolation of both victims. He willingly con
sented toassist in the ceremonies. A grand council of the two nations wasimmediately called, in order to determine in what manner the deathpenalty should be inflicted. After many and grave debates, it wasresolved that the lovers should be incarcerated in the dark and gloomycave where they had spent so many happy hours, and there starve todeath.
It was a grand gala-day with the O-kak-oni-tas and the Gra-sop-o-itas.The mighty chiefs had been reconciled, and the wealth, power and beautyof the two realms turned out in all the splendor of fresh paint andbrilliant feathers, to do honor to the occasion. The young princes wereto be put to death. The lake in the vicinity of the rock was alive withcanoes. The hills in the neighborhood were crowded with spectators. Thetwo old kings sat in the same splendid barge, and followed close afterthe bark canoe in which the lovers were being conveyed to their livingtomb. Silently they gazed into each other's faces and smiled. For eachother had they lived; with one another were they now to die. Withoutfood, without water, without light, they were hurried into their bridalchamber, and huge stones rolled against the only entrance.
Evening after evening the chiefs sat upon the grave portals of theirchildren. At first they were greeted with loud cries, extorted by thegnawing of hunger and the agony of thirst. Gradually the cries gave wayto low moans, and finally, after ten days had elapsed, the tomb becameas silent as the lips of the lovers. Then the huge stones were, by thecommand of the two kings, rolled away, and a select body of warriorsordered to enter and bring forth their lifeless forms. But the west windhad sprung up, and just as the stones were taken from the entrance, alow, deep, sorrowful sigh issued from the mouth of the cave. Startledand terrified beyond control, the warriors retreated hastily from thespot; and the weird utterances continuing, no warriors could be foundbrave enough to sound the depths of that dreadful sepulchre. Day afterday canoes crowded about the mouth of the cave, and still the west windblew, and still the sighs and moans continued to strike the souls of thetrembling warriors.
Finally, no canoe dared approach the spot. In paddling past they wouldalways veer their canoes seaward, and hurry past with all the speed theycould command.
Centuries passed away; the level of the lake had sunk many feet; thelast scions of the O-kak-oni-tas and the Gra-sop-o-itas had moulderedmany years in the burying-grounds of their sires, and a new race hadusurped their old hunting grounds. Still no one had ever entered thehaunted cave.
One day, late in the autumn of 1849, a company of emigrants on their wayto California, were passing, toward evening, the month of the cavern,and hearing a strange, low, mournful sigh, seeming to issue thence, theylanded their canoe and resolved to solve the mystery. Lighting somepitch-pine torches, they proceeded cautiously to explore the cavern. Fora long time they could discern nothing. At length, in the furthestcorner of the gloomy recess, they found two human skeletons, with theirbony arms entwined, and their fleshless skulls resting upon each other'sbosoms. The lovers are dead, but the old cave still echoes with theirdying sobs.
II.--DICK BARTER'S YARN; OR, THE LAST OF THE MERMAIDS.
Well, Dick began, you see I am an old salt, having sailed the seas formore than forty-nine years, and being entirely unaccustomed to livingupon the land. By some accident or other, I found myself, in the winterof 1849, cook for a party of miners who were sluicing high up the NorthFork of the American. We had a hard time all winter, and when springopened, it was agreed that I and a comrade named Liehard should crossthe summit and spend a week fishing at the lake. We took along an oldWashoe Indian, who spoke Spanish, as a guide. This old man had formerlylived on the north margin of the lake, near where Tahoe City is nowsituated, and was perfectly familiar with all the most noted fishinggrounds and chief points of interest throughout its entire circuit.
We had hardly got started before he commenced telling us of a remarkablestruggle, which he declared had been going on for many hundred yearsbetween a border tribe of Indians and the inhabitants of the lake, whomhe designated as Water-men, or "_hombres de las aguas_." On asking if hereally meant to say that human beings lived and breathed like fish inLake Bigler, he declared without any hesitation that such was the fact;that he had often seen them; and went on to describe a terrific combathe witnessed a great many years ago, between a Pol-i-wog chief and _aman of the water_. On my expressing some doubt as to the veracity of thestatement, he proffered to show us the very spot where it occurred; andat the same time expressed a belief that by manufacturing a whistle fromthe bark of the mountain chinquapin, and blowing it as the Pol-i-wogsdid, we might entice some of their old enemies from the depths of thelake. My curiosity now being raised tip-toe, I proceeded to interrogateJuan more closely, and in answer I succeeded in obtaining the followingcurious particulars:
The tribe of border Indians called the Pol-i-wogs were a sort ofamphibious race, and a hybrid between the Pi-Utes and the mermaids ofthe lake. They were of a much lighter color than their progenitors, andwere distinguished by a great many peculiar characteristics. Exceedinglyfew in number, and quarrelsome in the extreme, they resented everyintrusion upon the waters of the lake as a personal affront, and madeperpetual war upon neighboring tribes. Hence, as Juan remarked, theysoon became extinct after the invasion of the Washoes. The last of themdisappeared about twenty-five years ago. The most noted of theirpeculiarities were the following:
First. Their heads were broad and extremely flat; the eyes protuberant,and the ears scarcely perceptible--being a small opening closed by amovable valve shaped like the scale of a salmon. Their mouths were verylarge, extending entirely across the cheeks, and bounded by a hard rimof bone, instead of the common lip. In appearance, therefore, the headdid not look unlike an immense catfish head, except there were no finsabout the jaws, and no feelers, as we call them.
Second. Their necks were short, stout, and chubby, and they possessedthe power of inflating them at will, and thus distending them to two orthree times their ordinary size.
Third. Their bodies were long, round, and flexible. When wet, theyglistened in the sun like the back of an eel, and seemed to possess muchgreater buoyancy than those of common men. But the greatest wonder ofall was a kind of loose membrane, that extended from beneath theirshoulders all the way down their sides, and connected itself with theupper portion of their thighs. This loose skin resembled the wings ofthe common house bat, and when spread out, as it always did in thewater, looked like the membrane lining of the legs and fore feet of thechipmunk.
Fourth. The hands and feet were distinguished for much greater length oftoe and finger; and their extremities grew together like the toes of aduck, forming a complete web betwixt all the fingers and toes.
The Pol-i-wogs lived chiefly upon fish and oysters, of which there wasonce a great abundance in the lake. They were likewise cannibals, andate their enemies without stint or compunction. A young Washoe girl wasconsidered a feast, but a lake maiden was the _ne plus ultra_ ofluxuries. The Washoes reciprocated the compliment, and fattened upon theblubber of the Pol-i-wogs. It is true that they were extremely difficultto capture, for, when hotly pursued, they plunged into the lake, and byexpert swimming and extraordinary diving, they generally managed toeffect their escape.
Juan having exhausted his budget concerning the Pol-i-wogs, I requestedhim to give us as minute a description of the Lake Mermaids. This hedeclined for the present to do, alleging as an excuse that we wouldfirst attempt to capture, or at least to see one for ourselves, and ifour hunt was unsuccessful, he would then gratify our curiosity.
It was some days before we came in sight of this magnificent sheet ofwater. Finally, however, after many perilous adventures in descendingthe Sierras, we reached the margin of the lake. Our first care was toprocure trout enough to last until we got ready to return. That was aneasy matter, for in those days the lake was far more plentifullysupplied than at present. We caught many thousands at a place where asmall brook came down from the mountains, and formed a pool not a greatdistance from its entrance into the lake, and this pool was alive withthem. It occupied us b
ut three days to catch, clean, and sun-dry as manyas our single mule could carry, and having still nearly a week to sparewe determined to start off in pursuit of the mermaids.
Our guide faithfully conducted us to the spot where he beheld theconflict between the last of the Pol-i-wogs and one of the water-men. Asstated above, it is nearly on the spot where Tahoe City now stands. Thebattle was a fierce one, as the combatants were equally matched instrength and endurance, and was finally terminated only by theinterposition of a small party of Washoes, our own guide being of thenumber. The struggle was chiefly in the water, the Pol-i-wog beingbetter able to swim than the mermaid was to walk. Still, as occasionrequired, a round or two took place on the gravelly beach. Never did oldSpain and England engage in fiercer conflict for the dominion of theseas, than now occurred between Pol-i-wog and Merman for the mastery ofthe lake. Each fought, as the Roman fought, for Empire. The Pol-i-wog,like the last of the Mohicans, had seen his tribe melt away, until hestood, like some solitary column at Persepolis, the sole monument of aonce gorgeous temple. The water chieftain also felt that upon his arm,or rather tail, everything that made life desirable was staked. Aboveall, the trident of his native sea was involved.
The weapons of the Pol-i-wog were his teeth and his hind legs. Those ofthe Merman were all concentrated in the flop of his scaly tail. With theenergy of a dying alligator, he would encircle, with one tremendouseffort, the bruised body of the Pol-i-wog, and floor him beautifully onthe beach. Recovering almost instantly, the Pol-i-wog would seize theMerman by the long black hair, kick him in the region of the stomach,and grapple his windpipe between his bony jaws, as the mastiff does theinfuriated bull.
Finally, after a great many unsuccessful attempts to drag the Pol-i-woginto deep water, the mermaid was seized by her long locks and suddenlyjerked out upon the beach in a very battered condition. At this moment,the Washoes with a yell rushed toward the combatants, but the Pol-i-wogseeing death before him upon water and land equally, preferred theembraces of the water nymphs to the stomachs of the landsmen, androlling over rapidly was soon borne off into unfathomable depths by thetriumphant Merman.
Such was the story of Juan. It resembled the condition of the ancientBritons, who, being crowded by the Romans from the sea, and attacked bythe Picts from the interior, lamented their fate as the most unfortunateof men. "The Romans," they said, "drive us into the land; there we aremet by the Picts, who in turn drive us into the sea. We must perish ineither event. Those whom enemies spare, the waves devour."
Our first step was to prepare a chinquapin whistle. The flute was easilymanufactured by Juan himself, thuswise: He cut a twig about eighteeninches in length, and not more than half an inch in diameter, andpeeling the bark from the ends an inch or so, proceeded to rub the barkrapidly with a dry stick peeled perfectly smooth. In a short time thesap in the twig commenced to exude from both ends. Then placing thelarge end between his teeth he pulled suddenly, and the bark slipped offwith a crack in it. Then cutting a small hole in the form of aparallelogram, near the upper end, he adjusted a stopper with flattenedsurface so as to fit exactly the opening. Cutting off the end of thestopple even with the bark and filling the lower opening nearly full ofclay, he declared the work was done. As a proof of this, he blew intothe hollow tube, and a low, musical sound was emitted, very flute-likeand silvery. When blown harshly, it could be heard at a great distance,and filled the air with melodious echoes.
Thus equipped, we set out upon our search. The first two days were spentunsuccessfully. On the third we found ourselves near what is now calledAgate Beach. At this place a small cove indents the land, which sweepsround in the form of a semi-circle. The shore is literally packed withagates and crystals. We dug some more than two feet deep in severalplaces, but still could find no bottom to the glittering floor. They areof all colors, but the prevailing hues are red and yellow. Here Juanpaused, and lifting his whistle to his lips, he performed a multitude ofsoft, gentle airs, which floated across the calm waves like a lover'sserenade breathes o'er the breast of sleeping beauty. It all seemed invain. We had now entirely circumnavigated the lake, and were on the eveof despairing utterly, when suddenly we beheld the surface of the lake,nearly a quarter of a mile from the shore, disturbed violently, as ifsome giant whale were floundering with a harpoon in its side. In amoment more the head and neck of one of those tremendous serpents thatof late years have infested the lake, were uplifted some ten or fifteenfeet above the surface. Almost at the same instant we beheld the head,face and hair, as of a human being, emerge quickly from the water, andlook back toward the pursuing foe. The truth flashed upon usinstantaneously. Here was a mermaid pursued by a serpent. On they came,seemingly regardless of our presence, and had approached to withintwenty yards of the spot where we stood, when suddenly both came to adead halt. Juan had never ceased for a moment to blow his tuneful flute,and it now became apparent that the notes had struck their hearing atthe same time. To say that they were charmed would but half expresstheir ecstatic condition. They were absolutely entranced.
The huge old serpent lolled along the waters for a hundred feet or so,and never so much as shook the spray from his hide. He looked likeMilton's portrait of Satan, stretched out upon the burning marl of hell.In perfect contrast with the sea monster, the beautiful mermaiden liftedher pallid face above the water, dripping with the crystal tears of thelake, and gathering her long raven locks, that floated like the train ofa meteor down her back, she carelessly flung them across her swellingbosom, as if to reproach us for gazing upon her beauteous form. Butthere my eyes were fastened! If she were entranced by the music, I wasnot less so with her beauty. Presently the roseate hues of a dyingdolphin played athwart her brow and cheeks, and ere long a gentle sigh,as if stolen from the trembling chords of an Eolian harp, issued fromher coral lips. Again and again it broke forth, until it beat in fullsymphony with the cadences of Juan's rustic flute.
My attention was at this moment aroused by the suspicious clicking of mycomrade's rifle. Turning around suddenly, I beheld Liehard, with hispiece leveled at the unconscious mermaid.
"Great God!" I exclaimed! "Liehard, would you commit murder?" But thewarning came too late, for instantaneously the quick report of his rifleand the terrific shriek of the mermaid broke the noontide stillness;and, rearing her bleeding form almost entirely out of the water, sheplunged headlong forwards, a corpse. Beholding his prey, powerlesswithin his grasp, the serpent splashed toward her, and, ere I could cockmy rifle, he had seized her unresisting body, and sank with it into themysterious caverns of the lake. At this instant, I gave a loud outcry,as if in pain. On opening my eyes, my wife was bending over me, themidday sun was shining in my face, Dick Barter was spinning someconfounded yarn about the Bay of Biscay and the rum trade of Jamaica,and the sloop _Edith Beaty_ was still riding at anchor off the wildglen, and gazing tranquilly at her ugly image in the crystal mirror ofLake Bigler.
[Decoration]