While The Billy BoilsSearchAn Indian LegendIn the dim remote antiquity Of very long ago,When the warriors of Wabasha Chased the roving buffalo;Near the mighty Mississippi Lived a chieftain, old and grey;And he ruled the wild Wabashas In an energetic way.
He could hunt and fight no longer, For his hunting days were gone;But he used to talk for hours about The deeds he once had done;His once mighty arm was feeble, Age had dimmed his vision keen,So he lived upon the memory Of what he once had been.
And the darling of his wigwam - Who was dearer than his life,Was not, as perhaps it should have been, That aged Chieftain's wife,'Twas his sweet and loving daughter, Who was supple, strong, and trim,For the beautiful Winona Was the salt of life to him.
Lithe and active was Winona, And the sparkle of her eyesWas like dewdrops on the lilies When the sun begins to rise.Like the bosom of the robin Were her lips, so rosy red,And her laugh like sound of water Rippling o'er its pebbly bed.
In the tribe of the Wabashas Was a warrior, brave and young;And the praises of Winona Were for ever on his tongue.He declared he loved her dearly, And beneath the twilight dim,She vowed, by the Great Spirit,
She would love no man but him.
Alas! for lovers' promises; Alas! for lovers' dreams;Too often are they shattered By a parent's sordid schemes.Soon the aged Chief, her father, In the wigwam caused a stir,When he quietly announced, that he Had other views for her.
Then, he told her how another chief, From out another band,Whose warriors were invincible, Had asked him for her hand.Said he, “You'll be obedient And marry him, I trust;In short, the day and hour are fixed, So marry him you must.”
There's commotion in a dovecot When an eagle-hawk appears,We are startled when a sudden clap Of thunder greets our ears;But neither ever caused such dire Perplexity, as stirredPoor Winona's gentle bosom When the horrid news she heard.
Yet, for filial obedience, Winona was renowned;So she hung her head and answered, As she knelt upon the ground,"I must do my father's bidding, Though my aching heart may burst;"But, she added, sotto voce, "I will see you smothered first.”
Upon the wedding morning, As the sun rose in the east,She wandered forth to gather flowers To deck the bridal feast.She climbed a rock, and standing there, All in the morning glow,She saw her aged ancestor Upon the ground below.
He gazed upon her, as she stood, With all a father's pride,
"My lovely eldest born,” cried he, "So soon to be a bride.”She laughed a wild, unearthly laugh, As if his words to mock,Then, with one loud heartrending scream, She leapt from off the rock.
It chanced that soon Winona's own Wabasha man came round,He clasped Winona's senseless form And raised it from the ground.She soon unclosed her lovely eyes, And smiling sweetly said,"I'm just a little shaken up, I lit on father's head.”
They turned the aged Chieftain o'er, But not a word he spoke;Winona, was a solid girl, His spinal cord was broke.Winona and her lover then So lightly skipped away,To seek fresh fields and pastures new, To spend their wedding day.
Now, Indians in their birch canoes, At twilight paddle by,And pause beneath the “Maiden's Rock" To hear Winona's cry.The dusky paddlers softly sing, And, as they glide along,The "Wedding of Winona," Is the burden of their song.