wind among the branches,
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm,
And the rushing of great rivers.
Listen to these wild traditions.--HIAWATHA.

One day in the spring of 1820, a singular occurrence took place on one
of the upper tributaries of the Mississippi.

The bank, some fifteen or twenty feet in height, descended quite
abruptly to the stream's edge. Though both shores were lined with
dense forest, this particular portion possessed only several sparse
clumps of shrubbery, which seemed like a breathing-space in this sea
of verdure--a gate in the magnificent bulwark with which nature girts
her streams. This green area commanded a view of several miles, both
up and down stream.

Had a person been observing this open spot on the afternoon of the day
in question, he would have seen a large bowlder suddenly roll from the
top of the bank to bound along down the green declivity and fall into
the water with a loud splash. This in itself was nothing remarkable,
as such things are of frequent occurrence in the great order of
things, and the tooth of time easily could have gnawed away the few
crumbs of earth that held the stone in poise.

Scarcely five minutes had elapsed, however, when a second bowlder
rolled downward in a manner precisely similar to its predecessor, and
tumbled into the water with a rush that resounded across and across
from the forest on either bank.

Even this might have occurred in the usual course of things. Stranger
events take place every day. The loosening of the first stone could
have opened the way for the second, although a suspicious observer
might naturally have asked why its fall did not follow more
immediately.

But, when precisely the same interval had elapsed, and a third stone
followed in the track of the others, there could be no question but
what human agency was concerned in the matter. It certainly appeared
as if there were some _intent_ in all this. In this remote wilderness,
no white man or Indian would find the time or inclination for such
child's play, unless there was a definite object to be accomplished.

And yet, scrutinized from the opposite bank, the lynx-eye of a veteran
pioneer would have detected no other sign of the presence of a human
being than the occurrences that we have already narrated; but the most
inexperienced person would have decided at once upon the hiding-place
of him who had given the moving impulse to the bodies.

Just at the summit of the ba