My brothers know, said a Nansemond warrior, that our tribe have a custom of burning over, every season, the great glade, or prairie, which lies beyond the hill, which the Great Spirit struck with his lightnings in the Hot-Moon. Yearly they see the flames devouring the dry and ripe grass, but they do not know what led to this custom; probably they have never heard that it is done in consequence of a solemn promise made by their fathers to the Spirit of Fire. Let them listen, and I will tell them the story.

Once upon a time, as the Nansemonds were warring against the Eries, who have their residence upon the shores of the lake of that name, they were caught in a narrow valley, or ravine, which lay between two high hills. One of the outlets to this valley opened into the lake; the other, that by which they had entered, had been occupied soon after their entrance into it, and, for a while, without their knowledge, by a strong party of their enemies. It may well be asked, why a band of warriors, cunning, sagacious, and experienced, as the Nansemonds were, should thus be caught like a foolish beaver in a trap. I will tell the warriors—they were decoyed into this dangerous valley by the roguish and wanton tricks of the Spirit of Fire.

This hasty and hot-tempered spirit, who is very good and kind when his master keeps him in due subjection, but who, when he escapes from his control, never fails to do a great deal of mischief, to burn up the maize, and frighten away the beasts which the Great Spirit has given to the Indians—or to destroy their food—sent Chepiasquit[43] to lead the Nansemonds—foolish men! they supposed it was to a camping-ground, where cool shade and sweet water should be found—and decoy them into a spot where they should fall an easy prey to their enemies. No thought had they of entering this dangerous valley. It was soon after the coming of the darkness that they saw this treacherous ball in the open space before them, and, believing it to be a lamp held out by a friendly spirit to conduct them, as I said before, to a place of rest and safety, they followed it without hesitation, and were thus placed completely in the power of their enemies. But they were good warriors—men tried and approved in many deadly conflicts, and such never feel the touch of fear, or show concern, even when they see the fire lighted and the tortures prepared for them. So, when they found themselves in the toils of their enemies, like a herd of buffaloes surrounded by a band of mounted hunters, they coolly sat down to think of the means and reckon the chances of escape.

While they sat talking, suddenly there appeared under the shade of a tree near them a man of singular shape and proportions. He was squat, and so very fat, that he looked like a skinned pig which has been reared in a plentiful season of nuts and mast. His face was far wider than it was long, and the flesh and fat fell in great folds, upon his body, legs, and arms, which were entirely naked, and of the colour of a bright fire; his hair stood out every way, like flames kindled in a brisk wind; and, when he opened his mouth, the breath which issued from it was felt scorching and searing at the distance of half a bowshot. His eyes, which were two coals of fire, emitted sparks like a piece of birch wood which has been steeped in bitter water[44]. The Nansemonds were stricken with great terror at the sight of this hideous Spirit, and it was a long time before they ventured to address him. When they had called up a sufficient stock of courage, they went towards him, and the leader of the band spoke to him thus:

"Who art thou?"

"The Spirit of Fire," he answered.

"Where is thy dwelling place?"

"I have my dwelling place in many and various places—in the caverns of the earth, and where-ever mortals dwell, there am I found."

"Why hast thou, Spirit, beguiled us into the toils of our enemies, the Eries? Behold us entrapped, as a wolf is entrapped by a cunning hunter."

"Then shall I taste revenge!" answered the Spirit, and broke into a hissing laugh. "Does not the chief of the Nansemonds remember that, when I had with my breath kindled a fire in the time of a high wind, and was enjoying the glorious prospect of giving the dry prairie to the devouring flame, the men of his nation assembled, and first repelled, and finally extinguished, that flame. From that moment I have sought revenge—I have found it—the bravest of the Nansemonds are enclosed like a partridge in a net, soon like that partridge to be food for the spoiler."

"Though we then sinned against thee," answered the chief, "yet have we not at all other times been thy true worshippers? When thy fiery meteors have been seen traversing the valleys, and shooting like stars over the prairies, we have bowed down our heads or retreated to our cabins till they had passed, and in both cases failed not to deprecate the anger of Him whom we deemed their master. And yet, Spirit, thou hast delivered us into the toils of our fierce enemies, the Eries!"

With the singular laugh, which was between a hiss and a roar, the Spirit replied by asking: "How know ye that I have delivered you into the toils of your fierce enemies, the Eries?"

"What is the width of the valley into which thy treacherous eye hath decoyed us?" demanded the haughty Chief.

"Scarcely two bowshots," replied the Spirit.

"At its entrance, planted on both sides of the narrow pass, are Eries, well provided with bows and arrows and spears, waiting as a cunning cayman waits in the sedge for the unsuspecting water-duck."

"There are indeed Eries waiting on both sides of the narrow pass, as a cayman waits for a water-duck."

"Then have you led the Nansemonds into a danger from which there are no means of escape?"

"Is there not another end to the valley?"

"There is, and what will it avail? As much as a bow and arrow in the hands of him whose eyes have departed, or a spear in the grasp of a palsied man. Upon each side of the valley, jut far into the lake hills whose precipitous sides no one but a spirit can climb; and where are the canoes which shall transport us to a place of safety?"

"What will the Nansemonds give if the Spirit of Fire will release them from the dangers which encompass them?"

"They will yearly kindle a fire in the time of a high wind, that their deliverer may have the glorious prospect of seeing the dry prairie swept by the devouring flame."

"It is well! upon that condition I will save you."

So saying he arose, and, taking up from the pool in the middle of the valley a handful of slime, he rounded it into a ball, the while breathing upon it until it became of the colour of his face; when he had done this, he placed it upon the great toe of his right foot, and, giving it a kick into the air, and calling it by the name of "Chepiasquit," commanded it "to lead the good people, the Nansemonds, to a place of safety." So saying, he turned to the warriors and bade them follow their guide, who would soon conduct them out of difficulty; and he bade them not forget their promise to fire a prairie in the time of a high wind in honour of him who ruled over that element. Having spoken these words, he began to fade from their view, as a fire goes out which is left unsupplied with fuel. First, the sparks from his eyes disappeared—then his breath ceased to be hot and scorching, and his eyes red and glowing—and soon there was remaining but the indistinct resemblance of a being with the shape of a man. A little while, and even that faint glimmering had ceased to be.

The Nansemonds arose and followed with confidence the fiery ball down the valley. After travelling in an open path for some time, they came all at once to the shore of the lake; they saw its little waves dashing upon the smooth sand, and the stars reflected in the bosom of the clear waters. The fiery ball now changed its course along the shore. Following it, they came at the distance of three bowshots to a little bay, where they found a number of canoes well provided with paddles, and in each a calebash of good nesh-caminnick, and a piece of roasted deer's flesh. They entered these canoes, and committed themselves to the lake. Again the Spirit-ball coaxed them on. Darkness now hid the moon and stars, but it only rendered their guiding light more visible. After following it till the dawn of day, they landed again, and to their great joy found themselves at the foot of the well known path, which led from the lake to their own country. The Spirit-ball had disappeared, but it had first placed them beyond the reach of danger. A few suns, and our fathers once more stood upon the banks of their own pleasant river, the Nansemond, and listened to the joyous prattle of their children, and looked into the bright eyes of their fond wives.

Nor did they forget their promise to the Spirit. Yearly, in the time of a high wind, they kindled a fire in the dry prairie, that their deliverer might enjoy the glorious prospect of seeing it swept by the devouring flame. The warriors know that the custom is still preserved; they know that every year, in the Corn-Moon, when the grass on the prairie is ripe and dry, the chief, or the priest, goes to the spot, and, placing a lighted coal in the grass, makes a bow to it, pronouncing these words: "Thank you, Spirit!" when the grass immediately blazes up, and the prairie becomes enveloped in flames.