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THE STORY OF THE LOVE OF MAROUNAH, THE IN DIAN GIRL, On the shore of the great Yukon river was born Marounah. She played among the wild roses on the banks, and when the moon rose above the snow-clad moun tains across the wide river, she shud dered at the old men's tales of the T’linkit ghosts which, they said, were hovering in untold myriads in the dark forests which waited in that lonely village. She was passing beautiful in the eyes of the young men of her tribe, and they wooed her persistently, but vainly. She did not admire their strength or courage, as did her homely sisters. She loved to sit on some huge rock upon the shore and dream of the stream flowing by, and wonder whence the salmon came and whither they went in their annual pil grimage. Maarounah knew that soon the time would come when she must accept a husband, and she dreaded the day, be cause there was none among the young men of her people whom she felt that she could love. She had seen a few rough white men who were hunting for gold, and her mother had hid her, lest they should see her and seek to buy her, as was sometimes done when the dried salmon was gone and the necessity of the Indians was very great. And she trembled as she recollected the sad stories she had heard of the fate of the maidens whom she had seen departing with the burly white men. Then a feel ing of sadness stole over her, as she heard the owls hooting in the forest be hind her father’s house, and she won dered what would be her future. Her slumbers were troubled that night, and she dreamed of the dead house on the island beyond the bend in the Yukon, where reposed the ashes of her ancestors. Like other Indians she had more rev erence for the medicine man of the tribe than for anyone else she knew, but she did not fear him as she did the others for she longed to know his secrets, and, if it had been permitted by the customs, she would not have objected to a marriage with their newly initiated wizard, who was one of her old admirers. One day as Marounah sat weaving a basket at the foot of the ancestral totem in front of the house, a large canoe shot around the point up the river and was followed by another and then another. She soon discerned that there was a white man in the foremost canoe. Soon they landed and the news spread through the village that the distinguished looking stranger was on his way to the far north to explore the country. The strange instruments which he carried with him astonished these simple people of the Yukon. They wondered that he did not offer them drink and show himself a beast, as did the other white men who visited them. In company with the Indian who had charge of his packers, the explorer in spected the quaintly carved log houses and took notes of their implements, lan guage and peculiarities. He also at tempted to obtain photographs, but the villagers were afraid of the dangerous looking instrument, as well as of the evil eye, and the men turned their backs while the women covered their faces with their hands. But not so Marornal. Although wild with excitement, she felt a strange sense of exultation as the white man caught her eye and turned his camera in her di rection. He smiled when he had suc ceeded in photographing the house, with the maiden standing at the entrance. But when he approached and spoke ap provingly she was dumb and even re fused the small round mirror which he offered her. That very day her mother had told Marounah that Wansatah of the beaver totem had asked for her band in mar riage and, at her protests against such a union, her mother had become angry and had told her that if she did not cease showing her aversion to the youths of her tribe she would be denounced as a witch, for not conforming with the cus toms, Marounah could not forget the hand some white man; he was always in her thoughts, and when she next saw the stranger, as he was making his prepara tions for departure, she knew what she had never dared to confess to herself before—that she loved. She felt a secret longing to go with him and share all the rils of his journey to the land of the aimaux. Taven her heart quailed as she thought of the lost ones whom the miners had taken away, while the par ents gazed at the sack of flour which was left as the price, and wondered how their child would fare. But this wise man, with books and scientific appara tus, and such an air of disinterested be nevolence, would never abandon her, but would take her home to his people and love her always. Then she awoke from her reverie and looked with disdain on her surroundings, from the naked chil dren splashing in the water to the bald eagles soaring between her and the glistening snow peaks which had always shut her in. She felt that she could never hope that we would notice her, that she would have to marry a native youth and live the hard life of a squaw. Gradually she would lose her beauty, and finally become one of those wrinkled, clear-eyed creatures who sit crouching over the fires until they form carica tures of poor humanity. The only alter native would be the plague, the medi cine man's incantations, and then the dead-house, with the Tlinkit’s ghosts. Suddenly, the stranger, who had been superintending the loading of his canoes at the beach, turned and looked at her as she sat watching him; but she ran into the house in confusion and crouched behind the pile of mats. Perhaps, by some occult law, thoughts are reflected from one mind upon another. Be this as it may, the scientist began to soliloquize thus: The maiden yonder was attract ive; he was not a Puritan; he was to be cut off from the civilized world for two years or more; perhaps he would never see his home again, and the icy waters of the north would claim his body. Then why not follow the example of others, sand take with him an Indian girl, who would uncomplainingly suffer all things and be his will ing drudge, while he wished it, and then resignedly sink into oblivion? He was an evolutionist, and believed in natural selection and the survival of the fittest. He hesitated an instant—his canoe was was ready, all his scientific impediments were safely stowed away,and his Chilkat boatmen were taking leave of their friends. He had decided, and he ap proached the old woman, who was tend ing a salmon which was stretched on sticks before the fire for the next meal. He found that he understood enough of her dialect to convey his idea, which she did not seem to approve, although she did not violently repulse him. He stepped aside and beckoned to one of his men to come and act as interpreter. The woman turned and entered the house on hearing a stifled sob from Marounah, who appeared greatly agitated by what she had overheard. The mother said, sharply: ‘See what you have brought on us by your per versity? The people think you are a witch, and now the white man would buy you and carry you off to die, as the miners took Tonika last winter when the food was scarce. You must certainly marry Wansatah next full moon.” The old squaw could hardly believe her senses when Marounah said quietly: “IT will go with the white stranger. I would rather burn as a witch than marry another. He is not like the miners. He will be true.” *Fool!” cried the mother, and struck her in her rage, as she realized that it would be impossible to alter the mind of the young dreamer. Go, then, with the white man, and we will not ask any thing in exchange. You have made your fate. I wish you had not been born.” She sent a child to bring the father, and, when he arrived, she briefly in formed him that she had decided to give Marounah to the stranger. The old man demurred, but the women rule in family affairs in Alaska, _ The sterns of the canoes touch the sandy shore, and the population of the place stand like bronze statues in the clear Alaskan sunlight. A few rods back the blue smoke rises from the houses. While behind them the whole wooded mountains rise. The scientist, as the canoe pushed off, placed some silver in the hand of the old man, who, he saw, would not be averse to taking it. It relieved his conscience, although, amid the dangers of months of exploration, he did not think much as to the distant outcome of the affair. The old women said,in their guttural tongue: “Just what might be expected of such a girl. The white man is very great, but he will desert her like the rest.” Marounah sat in the canoe in a be wildered ectasy, and with inbred stoicism saw her family, friends and home grad ually merge into their forest background. But, as she neared the dreaded island and the banks hid her native shore from view. no mist veiled her eyes, and she thought she saw the totem of her mother's family--a mighty wooden shaft grotesquely carved and surmounted by a Taven—standing in front of the dead house. Day after day they floated down the enchanted stream flowing ever to the northwest until they could scarcely see across the widened waters. Night after night their campfire lighted up solitudes where neither Indian nor white man was ever met by them. Marounah would not have envied our mother Eve in paradise, had she known the story. She had realized her ideal. At the first, all was joyous with her. The scientist took a great interest in learning the correct pronunciation of her dialect, while noting the sub-tribal variations of the widely diffused Tlinkit tongue. He taught her English, and instructed her in various ways, until she felt that she was realizing the vague longings of her childhood, when she wished for some thing better than her people could give her. He could find no fault with her behavior. She assisted him in every possible way, in sickness as well as in thrilling adventure. She once saved his life by swimming to his rescue when the canoe was overturned in the rapids. She cheered him during the rigors of the Artic winter, where the sun did not shine for weeks. Finally, it became necessary for the expedition to return. They had been in the north over a year, and the objects of the explorer had been accomplished as far as possible. The return journey was made in safety, and they expected to reach the coast before long. They were paddling up the noble river,and,Marcun nah was supremely happy as she neared her former home. How she would look down upon those who had reproached her for not accepting her Indian suitors! Was she not the wife of the scientist? Was she not educated far above their comprehension? And here was her straight-limbed, handsome child, looking so like his father! Her husband, no doubt, would have a mighty house, and richly furnished, in the wonderful south ern land of the whites. They reached the familiar banks at dusk in autumn, and Marounah cried with joy at the thought of seeing her parents again. But she feared the dead house island, as she saw it in the dis tance. The scientist was silent and thoughtful, while he did not check her expressions of delight, as they passed the island, and the fires of the village were seen reflected in the smooth waters. **See!” cried Marounah, looking back under a sudden impulse. ** The ghost of Tlinkits!” She gazed at the mist rising above the dead-house and, in an agony of fear, she clasped her babe to her bosom and began chanting the wild, un earthly notes of a T'linkit dirge, in which the men joined as they paddled. The demoniac cries of the Indians thrilled the white man’s soul with a nameless dread. He then realized where he had been and what he had done. He had been absent from his kind so long that he had almost begun to feel like one of these degraded children of the north, with whom he had been forced to associate. He began to moralize. Marounah roused herself, and saw that the course of the canoe was not altered, as it should have been if they were going to land at her old home. She looked at the explorer, who averted his face under the stars and the aurora. She spoke to him in English, but he did not answer her a word. Then she thought of Tonika and shuddered, “But my husband is wise and true, and he will not leave me,’’ she said to herself. She cast a backward glance and wondered which of the fires was her mother's, and then awaited her fate. Soon the village was lost to sight, and Marounah was speeding up the river toward the white man’s country, which she had never seen. The scientist was thinking now of the future. He would gain fame from this exploration; he had been where no other white man had been before. He had been successful beyond his anticipations. He had a canoe load of specimens of the products of that former terra incognitia. Now, what was to be done with Martou nah? He had thought it best not to see her parents while this question remained unanswered. There was but one course advisable, according to his judgment. She must be detained by willing hands and left without means of following him. Although she begged to know his plans for the future, he told her nothing. The country of the Koutznahoos was reached at last and the voyagers went ashore to spend the day and night in rest and recreation. Marounah did not understand the whispered conversation between the explorer and one of their hosts, which so greatly concerned her future welfare. In the early dawn the canoes were loaded as usual and the Kootznahoos stood at the water's edge to witness the departure of their guests. The great ex plorer stepped into his canoe after all the men were seated with their paddles in their hands. Maroullah was about to fol low with her babe on her back, after the manner of the Indian woman, when two stalwart Kootzanahoos seized her by the shoulders from behind and held her firmly, while the canoes glided out into the current. She shrieked with anguish as she realized that never again would she see the man she loved. But the scientist did not look back; instead,he gazed steadfastly up the river into his future where his civilized fellow men were soon to receive him with honor. He would write a book, deliver lectures and be received by society as a hero. It is winter in the interior of Alaska. The sun may slide along the horizon for a few minutes at midday, but it is rarely seen through the dense clouds which touch the snow, while the blackness of the Alaskan night is something awful. Then the chilling, freezing dampness makes the cold seem threefold colder, and life ebbs low in man and beast. A village of the Kootznahoos lies buried in the snow, and, in an under ground winter house, stoops over her work a young Indian woman whose face betrays despair. She is the household drudge of several related families who occupy this burrow together. She is experiencing the hard lot of an Indian slave. It is true that the slaves are sel dom sacrificed at house warmings or funerals, as was the custom before the whites began to exercise their authority, but they are shown no consideration whatever, beyond receiving the food which the others reject, and shelter from the storms, while escape is impos sible. A fair-haired babe cries plaintively from the pile of mats on which it lies. With a look of smoldering hate in her eyes, the mother turns toward it and her brow darkens as she gazes upon the child of the white man who had deserted her. It wails feebly once again, and the sound seems to goad the woman to mad ness. Suddenly the pent-up savagery of her nature bursts forth, and with a harsh cry she thrusts a heavy fur over the little white face and the blue eyes that remind her of the man who had brought upon her all this misery. Firm er and yet firmer she presses, till the little, quivering form is still. Slowly she drew aside the fur and looked long at the purpled face. The eyes stared dully up at her, their mute accusation sinking through hate and ig norance and despair to the mother-heart that lay deep in her nature. Then with a mighty rush the realization of what she had done came upon her, and with a wailing cry, she caught up the dead babe and fled out into the night. As the Kootznahoo fishers were return ing that night to their village, they found upon the beach the body of a drowned woman, washed up by the sea, in which she had vainly sought to hide her sorrows, and clasped in her arms was the blackened face of a fair-haired child. Marounah had paid the penalty of her brief glimpse of happiness.x—San Fran cisco Argonaut,
Newspaper Details
Lincoln Daily Nebraska State Journal
Lincoln, Nebraska, US
Sun, Oct 25, 1891
Page 13
Full Page
Clipped by
Lillian F.
USA 05 Jun 2026
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