THE CHEMAWA AMERICAN
PAGE 4
FOR OUR BOYS
We have just read a bit of “advice” for young
men which we esteem so highly that we are making a
re-print of it, as follows:
Young men, you are the architects of your own
fortunes. Rely upon your own strength of body and
soul. Take for your star, self-reliance. Don’t take
too much advice—keep at your helm and steer your
own ship, and remember that the great art of com
manding is to take a fair share of the work. Think
w’ell of yourself. Strike out. Be in earnest. Be
self-reliant. Be generous. Be civil. Read the pa
pers. Advertise your business. Make money, and
do good with it. Love your God and fellow men.
Love truth and virtue. Love your country and obey
its laws.—Porter.
WINEMA
An unusual Indian story written by Harriette Hill
as a test in English:
Many, many years ago the Indians of the Klamath
tribe believed that there lived a great spirit called
Umpta. This great spirit loved his people very much
and always helped them when they were in trouble.
The chief of this tribe, Wakinta, had a daughter,
Winema. She was very beautiful in heart and soul,
as well as in looks. Every one loved her and she in
turn loved them all.
Winema especially loved a handsome young warrior
whose name was Wah-wah-tee-see. Wakinta, the
chief, greatly opposed the match. He thought that
no one should love his beautiful daughter. He tried
many times to kill the brave young Wah-wah-tee-see,
but always failed. He finally decided after many
moons that he would part them forever. He feared
that when he departed for the happy hunting grounds
Wah-wah-tee-see would at last own beautiful Winema.
One day he called Wah-wah-tee-see to him and
said, “I have sent you many times before, but this
shall be the last time. Go into the forest now and
before sundown today you will be slain.”
As Wah-wah-tee-see turned to obey he became an
elk and ran out into the forest, understanding now why
Wakinta had said that he would be slain.
As he was grazing in a beautiful meadow he heard
a whizzing sound. He threw up his head to listen,
but, alas! too late, for just as he did so an arrow
plunged into his heart. He fell, broken in spirit, for
he knew’ by w’hose hand he had been slain. The sun
passed behind the mountains in the west and he
closed his eyes and knew no more.
For many moons Winema mourned for her lover.
She knew not where he had gone, until one day she
decided to return to the place where she had killed the
lonely elk. Here the Great Spirit came to her and
told her how Wah-wah-tee-see had met his death.
When she had heard the story of his death she cried
loudly and said,“Oh, great Umpta, I have suffered
much. I can stand no more. Take my life, even as
I have taken his, and let our spirits meet here w’here
his parted from earth.”
So the great Umpta, feeling sorry for her, let her
spirit enter the happy hunting grounds, but let her
body remain on earth in the form of a rock.
In the w’oods about one mile south of Crater Lake,
Oregon, is a rock on which is carved the figure of a
woman. She seems to be resting against the rock.
Her arms are on the rock, crossed, each hand resting
at the bend of the elbow’, and her head is on her arms.
It appears as if the lady is crying. This figure to the
thousands of tourists is “The Lady of the Woods,”
but to the Indians she is Winema.
THE SUN
An Indian Legend written by Mabelle Bremner as a
test in English, as follows:
There w’as once a tribe of Indians living at the foot
of a great hill and the chief’s daughter had a small
son whom the chief liked very much. It worried his
grandfather greatly because he wouldn’t eat. They
gave him everything he wanted but still he wouldn’t
eat; so finally the old chief called his council of all the
oldest and wisest men in the camp and asked them if
they knew what was wrong. But they shook their
heads and said they didn’t know.
During the council an old woman w’as given charge
of the child and told to watch him very closely. After
a while the boy began to cry and the old woman pet
ted and teased him and asked him w’hat he wanted.
Finally he started to yell “Ohmea,” which meant sun.
Then she ran into the chief’s lodge and told the chief
that he was crying for the sun. The chief’s face bright
ened up, as he would do anything to please the child.
On the top of this great hill was a lodge where no
one w’as allow’ed because in it they kept the sun
wrapped in animal skins, so he ordered the boy and
the mother to be brought to the council and when they
arrived he took them up the winding trail on the hill.
When they reached the top he went in and gave the
child the sun to play w’ith. The chief gave orders for
them not to let him go out of the door w’ith it, because
he might lose it. The Indians that w’ere there forgot
about the child and were having fun talking and laugh
ing, and in the meantime the boy was rolling the sun
closer to the door of the lodge. He rolled it outside and
began tearing the skins off of it. He clapped his hands
when he saw the rays peeping out of the holes he made
in the skins. Then he set to work again and got all
the wrappings off and he let go of it and the sun began
rising until it reached the sky and stayed there. Before
this the w’orld was believed to be a place of darkness.