Would you hear the legend olden hearken while I tell the tale--
Shorn, alas, of many a golden, weird Dakota chant and wail.
[CH] The small island of rock a few rods below the Falls, was called by
the Dakotas _Wanagee We-ta_--Spirit-Island. They say the spirit of
_Anpetu Sapa_ sits upon that island at night and pours forth her sorrow
in song. They also say that from time out of mind, war-eagles nested on
that island, until the advent of white men frightened them away. This
seems to be true. See _Carver's Travels_ (London, 1778), p. 71.
THE LEGEND
Tall was young Wanata, stronger than _Heyoka's_ [16] giant form,--
Laughed at flood and fire and hunger, faced the fiercest winter storm.
When _Wakinyan_ [32] flashed and thundered, when Unktehee raved and roared,
All but brave _Wanata_ wondered, and the gods with fear implored.
When the war-whoop shrill resounded, calling friends to meet the foe,
From the _teepee_ swift he bounded, armed with polished lance and bow.
In the battle's din and clangor fast his fatal arrows flew,
Flashed his fiery eyes with anger,--many a stealthy foe he slew.
Hunter swift was he and cunning, caught the beaver, slew the bear,
Overtook the roebuck running, dragged the panther from his lair.
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