. Mackinac Island. The wave-washed tourists' paradise of the unsalted seas . ed Algonquin princess hurled herself tothe pickerel and sturgeon; and exactly across the Island fromthis memorial of feminine rashness stands another everlastingwitness of womans constancy and love. A short distancesoutheast of the Cave of Skulls, and a mile west of the fort andtown, is Lovers Leap, a bold, projecting promontory of stonea hundred and forty-five feet high, rising sheer out of the huge solitary pine once stood upon the very verge of the cliff,but some vandal of former years has cut it down. Here,
. Mackinac Island. The wave-washed tourists' paradise of the unsalted seas . ed Algonquin princess hurled herself tothe pickerel and sturgeon; and exactly across the Island fromthis memorial of feminine rashness stands another everlastingwitness of womans constancy and love. A short distancesoutheast of the Cave of Skulls, and a mile west of the fort andtown, is Lovers Leap, a bold, projecting promontory of stonea hundred and forty-five feet high, rising sheer out of the huge solitary pine once stood upon the very verge of the cliff,but some vandal of former years has cut it down. Here, thelegend tells, Me-che-ne-mock-e-nung-o-qua, a young Ojibwaymaiden, used to watch her lover, Ge-niw-e-gwon, as he em-barked in his canoe with the war parties of Ojibways and Ottawas to seek fame and scalps inthe lands to the southward. Here she sat and sang the song he loved: Mong-e-do-gwain, in-de-nain-dum,Mong-e-do-gwain, in-de-nain-dum,Wain-shung-ish-ween, neen-e-mo-shane,Wain-shung-ish-ween, neen-e-mo-shane,A-nee-nau-wau-sau-bo-a-zode,A-nee-nau-wau-sau-bo-a-zode. ». 36 MACKINAC ISLAND. This is only one stanza out of some three dozen, and translated into a more familiar vernacular thanOjibway, runs about in this fashion: A loon, I thought was looming, A loon, I thought was looming, Why! it is he, my lover. Why! it is he, my lover. His paddle in the waters gleaming. His paddle in the waters gleaming. One day the fleet came back, but Ge-niw-e-gwons joyous war-shout was not heard. A foemansarrow had pierced his heart, and not many mornings afterward the mangled form of the faithful Me-che-ne-mock-e-nung-o-qua was found at the foot of her loved rock. Her spirit had gone to join herwarrior lovers soul in the happy hunting-grounds beyond. Under Lovers Leap is the Devils Kitchen, a titanic fireplace in the side of the cliff; and betweenthis and the fort is the Indian Lookout, commanding an almost inimitable view of the lakes, the straitsand the adjacent islands and shores. From
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookidmackinacisla, bookyear1882
