"Long years ago there lived a brave Indian chief called Wa-chi-ta; in fact, he and his tribe inhabited a portion of this state—perhaps in the vicinity of these very trees.

"He was a kind and humane man, and his wife, Ona-pas-see, was like him in that respect, therefore they were dearly beloved by their subjects. They had three fine sons but no daughter, so when a little girl came to them they were exceedingly happy and there was great rejoicing.

"'As she is fair and beautiful to behold we will call her O-hi-o,' said the Chief. ("As we know, Ohio means 'beautiful,'" said Kate.)

"So little O-hi-o waxed strong and grew into a woman worthy of her name.
She was idolized by Ona-pas-see and spoiled by Wa-chi-ta.

"After the manner of all maidens, when she arrived at the marriageable age from miles around came many braves to pay their respects. They brought her rare and costly gifts of silver, copper, and gold—of beads and bears' claws, as well as the skins of the fox, squirrel, and ermine.

"O-hi-o smiled sweetly and accepted her gifts with pretty speeches of thanks, but of the young men she would have none. Her parents worried not a little, as they wished to see her settled in life, living in her own wigwam. Her brothers talked with her upon her duty, but she only smiled, showing her pretty teeth and arranged her headband of beads, using for a glass the clear stream near the wigwam.

"The squaws declared that she would never marry—that soon would go her youth and good looks; then the braves would seek some maiden younger and fairer. But O-hi-o only shook her head and ran to her father to be kissed.

"'She is proud,' they said, gazing after her, 'No one is good enough for her. She will meet with her punishment—watch.'

"Then behold! there came to the village one day a young warrior—Mus-kin-gum by name. He came from a tribe many miles distant, bearing a message from its Chief to Wa-chi-ta.

"O-hi-o sat near her father. She was embroidering a wampum belt with different colored beads and shells, skilfully fashioning birds, butterflies, animals, etc. As she glanced up shyly, lo! her eye caught the eye of the young brave. The blood flew into her cheeks and her heart started in to beat as though it would burst. While delivering his speech to Wa-chi-ta young Mus-kin-gum grew scarlet and embarrassed.

"That was the beginning. It was in June. The birds sang their love songs and the air was filled with mysterious romance and sweetness. Permission had been granted by Wa-chi-ta to Mus-kin-gum to pay his addresses to his daughter O-hi-o, and when he told her of his love he said:

"'Why confess it? You have known since the day in the wigwam when our eyes met and my soul fell captive to your beauty and sweetness.'

"Then, when upon the mountain sides the trees hung out their yellow, gray and scarlet banners, with great pomp and ceremony these two young people were wed, and the festivities lasted for days. Everyone was happy because Wa-chi-ta was happy, and all of the tribe loved Wa-chi-ta.

"As for O-hi-o and Mus-kin-gum, they were content. They lived in a fine wigwam and adored each other. While her husband was in the woods shooting game or fishing, Ohio would sit in the doorway and watch for his return, and as for him, his eyes were constantly roving towards the valley where he could see the smoke coming from a certain wigwam; and when it came in volumes as though from a freshly started fire, his heart would rejoice, for then he knew that O-hi-o was preparing the supper and it was time to return.

"And so these two who loved each other lived in one continual honeymoon until the arrival of little Mus-kin-gum—a strong, lusty, little fellow looking not unlike Wa-chi-ta, which pleased his grandfather only too well. It was his father's delight to attend to his education, and his father was not only beloved by his tribe but feared by his enemies. So he wished to teach his little son to be honest, kind and fearless. He wished him to be brave and able to lead his tribe into battle—to die for them if necessary. He taught the boy to aim well and shoot with a bow and arrow, and when he was about seven years old it was his delight to accompany big Mus-kin-gum on his shooting expeditions—to help him fish and hunt. Together they would tramp for miles, and O-hi-o would sit in her doorway and embroider, thanking the Great Spirit that she had two warriors to look after instead of one; and little Mus-kin-gum would clap his hands with joy when she'd say:

"'What has the little warrior shot today?' And her husband would reply: 'He has helped me; he has carried my heavy bow and arrow; and he has also carried these,' displaying a large string of fish. 'Besides, he caught two of them.'

"Of course, they talked in Indian language, which is more beautiful than ours.

"Then on their trips Mus-kin-gum would teach his little son how to distinguish one tree from another by examining its leaves; how to tell the name of a bird by listening to its call; how to read the signs of the Indians; how to read from their tracks the whereabouts of the enemy, the trail of the animals, and the secrets of the woods—the song of the birds, the whispering of the trees, and the murmuring of the brook; about the way of flowers, ferns, etc., and the names of the different nuts and fruits that flower first and then become ripe and fall to the ground.

"He taught him about the different animals and how to trap and shoot them, and lastly he taught him about the stars and the stories connected with them. Little Mus-kin-gum could point out the Dipper or Great Bear, the Little Bear, how the last star but one in the Dipper—the star at the bend of the handle—is called 'Mizar,' one of the horses; and just above tucked close in is a smaller star—'Alcor' or 'the rider.' The Indians called these two the 'Old Squaw and the Papoose on her back,' and the young men would say to the little fellow: 'Do you see the papoose on the old squaw's back?'

"Then at once he'd point to them, and the parents would be proud of him.

"His father also taught him that shaking a blanket in Indian language meant 'I want to talk with you.' Holding up a tree branch—'I wish to make peace.' Holding up a weapon—'I am prepared to fight,' and many others like our own signal of the Camp Fires," said Kate, "which is one of the oldest of Indian signs."

"Isn't this a lovely story?" broke in Patty. "I can't wait for its finish."

"And it's late; I'll have to talk more rapidly, I fear," replied Miss
Hollister, "or postpone the rest until tomorrow night."

"Oh, don't," went up a shout of young voices,—"please finish. Why, we'd keep awake all night if you stopped now."

Kate laughed good-naturedly and signed to one of the Fire Makers to put on more wood. Quickly Ethel jumped up and brought an armful, for our Camp was very ceremonious. Then as the flame burst forth anew she proceeded:

"So you can see that little Mus-kin-gum was a loveable child, endowed with more than ordinary intelligence. His father also told him of the Great Spirit, and the child listened reverently. He was an unusual child—bright for his age—and he learned quickly. He was also affectionate, and Mus-kin-gum became as weak as a woman when the little fellow would put his arms about his neck or clasp him by the hand.

"The mother had taught the child a prayer to the Great Spirit. It was this:

"'Great Spirit, listen Thou to us; guide us this day; help us, lest we fall; make our will Thy will—our ways Thy way.'

"Mus-kin-gum's great fear was that he might lose him ere he grew up to manhood, for next to O-hi-o he adored his boy.

"One morning big and little Mus-kin-gum started for the woods. They were in high spirits as they kissed O-hi-o goodbye.

"'We will shoot for you a big deer,' said the boy, 'and we will bring to you many large fish.'

"O-hi-o smiled and wished them luck. After watching until out of sight she left her wigwam to spend the day with her parents. It was a warm June day and it reminded O-hi-o of her courting days. She lived it all over again, and her heart gave thanks to the Great Spirit for His kindness—for the wonderful love and happiness that had since been hers in the possession of her husband and child. And the birds sang as on the day that Mus-kin-gum first beheld her at the door of her father's wigwam. She could see his eyes holding her own; she could feel her heart bounding in her bosom, and the red flushed into her cheek even as it had done then.

"She spent a pleasant day talking of her two dear ones and her parents were never weary of listening. They made her repeat the little prayer said to the Great Spirit by the idolized grandson.

"'I must leave now,' she said, 'and prepare their supper. They will be watching in the valley for the smoke from our wigwam,' and kissing her parents fondly she left.

"In the meanwhile it grew dark.

"'Little one,' said Mus-kin-gum, 'we must hasten. I feel rain in the air. Look at the clouds and behold it in them ready to fall.'

"And the little fellow looked and laughed, thinking it fun to be caught in a shower. They were close to the edge of the woods ready to descend the path leading to the valley, when suddenly with terrific force the rain began to fall, followed by a mighty wind that rent the clouds and rushed through the woods. Thunder pealed loud and long; lightning flashed, blinding the eyes. Little Mus-kin-gum grew pale and trembled. Never before had he feared a storm.

"'It is the voice of the Great Spirit,' he said solemnly, and began to repeat the prayer.

"Seeing his fright, his father drew the boy's head to his breast and held it there so that he might not see the lightning as it flashed with unusual violence.

"At last one flash came, and with it went the spirit of brave Mus-kin-gum. His arms loosened their hold on the screaming child. He reeled and fell backward—dead. The last bolt had killed him.

"Then followed peal after peal of thunder. The boy called to him in vain. He even tried to raise him in his arms. Seeing that it was useless he threw himself on his breast and moaned, every now and then lamenting in loud cries.

"The storm ceased. When, after the night fell, and Mus-kin-gum and the boy failed to appear, O-hi-o gathered together a band of young men from nearby and started out to search for them. O-hi-o kept calling, 'Mus-kin-gum, where art thou? My little one—art thou safe?'

"Then on the air floated a child's voice calling to its mother.

"Like a deer, O-hi-o flew to the spot. The child was rubbing his eyes. He had fallen asleep on his dead father's breast and was awakened by his mother's voice, but he never left his father's body.

"As O-hi-o drew near she beheld her poor brave handsome Mus-kin-gum lying with his face upturned to the moon, whose beams fell upon him. O-hi-o knelt down and kissed her husband but she uttered no cry—only a dull muffled moan escaped her, for she was the daughter of an Indian Chieftain and it would not have done. She had been taught to bear pain without a murmur, but the look upon her face was terrible. The young men would gladly have died to have brought young Mus-kin-gum to life for her sake.

"Then the eldest lifted the child, who still sat by his dead father's side, and placed him in his mother's arms, and as the little fellow sobbed and kissed her lo! her eyes filled with tears and she headed the procession that followed bearing the body of their beloved Mus-kin-gum adown the steep path that led to her wigwam.

"And Mus-kin-gum was buried with great ceremony and honors becoming a a man of his station. But O-hi-o took no further interest in life. The child now clung to his grandfather, who tried to take his father's place. Every day O-hi-o would lead him to the grave on the mountain side, and together they would pray to the Great Spirit.

"'And I prayed in the woods,' said the boy, 'when the thunder rolled and the lightning came, but the Great Spirit turned away his face and took my father.'

"'He was called to live among the stars,' O-hi-o would reply.

"'And is he up there?" the child would ask. 'I will look for him,' after which every night would little Mus-kin-gum stand or lie on the ground gazing at the stars, declaring at times that he could discern his father looking down upon them.

"But alas! from the day of the storm the boy could never again hear the voice of thunder, nor see the flashes of lightning, without going into convulsions. Upon the first distant roar he would jump up and down, scream loudly, and run to his mother, burying his head on her breast, relapsing into a state of semi-consciousness until the storm should have passed. It was pitiful, and poor O-hi-o's tears would fall on the boy's head, for it was thus he had stood before his father while Mus-kin-gum met his death.

"As time went on the attacks grew worse. Vainly did old Wa-chi-ta summon the best known medicine men and old women, but each one shook his or her head doubtfully. Vainly did the tribe assemble in the Council wigwam to consult with one another and pray to the Great Spirit for Mus-kin-gum's son—for his recovery. Nothing seemed to avail. The child grew worse and worse, never caring to leave his mother's side.

"Then came a bad year for the Indians. There was a drought. The fruit fell from the trees while yet in flower. The grass turned brown and withered. The crops died. The water dried up and there was none for the cattle. The different tribes met and prayed with no result.

"'We must die,' they said. 'Behold! the Lake even has gone, and something must be done.'

"And the wise men declared that the Great Spirit must be angry with them and that he demanded of them a sacrifice. The more they talked the more they believed that it was imperative. 'One life must be sacrificed,' they said,—'one life for many. That is the only way to save our people. No rain has fallen in nearly four months. The Great Spirit demands and must be obeyed.'

"Then into the midst of the wise men and chieftains came O-hi-o. She was very beautiful and the braves held their breath as they gazed upon her. By her hand she led the son of Mus-kin-gum.

"'I have heard what you said—oh! wise men,' she began. 'I have no wish to live longer. I and my son are ready to be your sacrifice. My heart is in the grave upon the mountain side. My son is not strong; his health is poor. We give ourselves for the good of our people.'

"Many wept. The wise men regarded her as they might an angel sent by the
Great Spirit. Her parents gazed upon her with pride and adoration.

"'But,' she continued, 'I would choose the manner of my death. On the pinnacle of rocks overlooking this valley, where each day that he hunted in the woods my dear Mus-kin-gum would stand and wave to me, tomorrow night 'neath the light of the moon, with my son's hand in mine—together he and I will leap from that rock into the valley below,—the once lovely valley now so desolate. Do not refuse me,' she cried, as many protested suggesting others not so young. 'No, I will gladly make the sacrifice for my dear father's people.'

"So they counselled together and accepted the offer made by their
Chieftain's daughter.

"O-hi-o and Mus-kin-gum spent their last day with the old people, who, while filled with pride, were heartbroken. They clung to the mother and child, nor were they ashamed to show their love and weakness.

"'I shall be with my father,' said little Mus-kin-gum. 'You may look for my mother and me in the stars, Grandpa. I have seen father there. Be sure and watch; we shall all be together,' and the child smiled as he kissed his grandparents, whose hearts were breaking.

"'My two brave ones,' said old Wa-chi-ta, 'if the rain comes to us it will be you who have sent it.'

"The tribes assembled from miles around. It was a hot, torrid night, although the moon shone brightly. All was silent as O-hi-o and little Mus-kin-gum came forth to the sacrifice. She wore her ceremonial costume; her long, black hair was flowing and held in by a beaded headband. She looked so beautiful as she marched up the mountain that people wept, but she walked proudly with her head erect, leading her child by the hand, and the little fellow also held his head upright and seemed without fear. Soon the ledge was reached. Looking down into the valley below they took their position.

"'Farewell,' said O-hi-o, 'I do this for the love I bear you, my people.'

"Then she kissed the boy many times and, reconsidering, she lifted him in her arms. The child put his face to hers and clung tightly about her neck. She whispered in his ear. He raised his head and called aloud: 'May the rain fall and may you all be happy.'

"Then holding her child close to her heart the brave woman stepped to the edge, closed her eyes, and leaped into the valley below,—the valley in which stood her wigwam."

Kate paused. The girls were hanging breathlessly on her words. Sallie
Davis and Mattie Hastings were crying, while Edna Whitely and Mollie
Long drew nearer.

"Oh, don't stop," gasped Patty Sands, "please go on, Miss Kate. I'm all excited."

Kate laughed.

"Do let me get my breath, girls. I had no idea it would take me so long."

"There fell no rain that night, but the people as they marched down into the valley thought of nothing but the sacrifice. Probably had it rained they would not have known it. They were silent, thinking with admiration of the wonderful act of heroism that they had just witnessed.

"The next day searching parties started out to seek the bodies of the mother and child, but not a trace could be found.

"'The Great Spirit has taken them in the flesh,' they said. 'Perhaps He is angry that we allowed it.'

"Everyone grew frightened. None seemed to care to speak. Suddenly a low peal of thunder was heard, then a louder one, after which came a flash of lightning.

"'A storm!" they cried, 'the sacrifice has not been in vain,' and they fell to their knees.

"It rained as it had never rained before. It fell in sheets. The cattle drank greedily and the water was plentiful. After the third day it grew lighter and the rain slacked. People ventured out of doors, and lo! the valley with the wigwam of Mus-kin-gum had disappeared. In its place, behold! a river. Up and down as far as eye could reach flowed the shining waters. A miracle had been performed, and the wise men came from miles around.

"'We will call the river O-hi-o,' they said, 'for it is the soul of her who has saved us.'

"And the river spread and grew larger. The braves explored and found that it was too long to measure. It would take days and days to find the end; in fact, they doubted that there could be an end.

"One morning they discovered a smaller river that emptied into the one they had named O-hi-o. That increased in length as well, but with their canoes they could paddle a hundred miles. They also noticed a peculiar thing about this smaller river. Whenever there came a thunder shower the river would rise and become covered with whitecaps, and rush madly down like a torrent until it seemed to fairly leap into the Ohio; and one wise man—the wisest of the tribe—said:

"'Behold, it is little Mus-kin-gum. Can you not see how the storm affects him? Was he not so in the flesh? Can you not see how he seeks his mother's bosom for shelter?'

"And so the mystery was explained. From the date of the appearance of the two rivers everything in that part of the country prospered. The cattle were second to none. The fruit was the fairest and most luscious fruit ever grown, while the crops—corn, buckwheat, oats, barley and wheat—could not be excelled."

("Today the fisheries are the finest and the Grand Reservoir is the largest body of artificial water in the world—equal in extent to all others in the state. It is well for you to know that," said Kate, interrupting the story).

"And whenever the Indians prayed to the Great Spirit they would thank him for having sent O-hi-o as a voluntary sacrifice; and each starlight night old Wa-chi-ta and his wife would search among the constellations for their three loved ones. Then they, too, passed into the Happy Hunting Grounds. But with many of the Western tribes the legend remains until today.

"For years to come the little Indian children would say to one another:

"'It's going to storm. Hear the thunder; see it lighten; let us go down and watch the little Mus-kin-gum get frightened and rush into his mother's arms.'"

"That is the end," said Kate.

"Oh! it is lovely," they all cried, "and we thank you so much."

"You see," she added, "now I am glad that I called this Camp Fire the 'Ohio.' That is our legend, and we can have a little copy made to annex to our book."

Then the Fire Maker came forward and extinguished the dying embers. Each girl arose and kissed the Guardian goodnight, and retired.