STATE HOETICULTURAL SOCIETY. 47 



THE LEGEND OF THE PIASA. 



BY FRANK C. RIEIIL. 



Sitting lonely by the hearthstone in the fire's ruddy glow, 



Musing on old scenes and incidents that happened long ago ; 



While the winds outside are sighing through the tree tops cold and raw, 



I recall the Indian legend of the dreaded " Piasa." 



Long before a white man gazed upon the Mississippi's flood,— 

 When the Indian was sole monarch of these Western solitudes, — 

 This great monster bird — or devil, — so the ancient legends say. 

 Cast its shadow o'er the valley on a sultry autumn day. 



Just above where the Missouri and the Mississippi blend. 

 Where the river turns to southward, and the bluff comes to an end ; 

 There the beast took up its lodgings in a cave beneath the clitl", — 

 There the terror-stricken warrior oft beheld it from his skiff. 



'T was a fearful sight to look on, with its awful, horned head, 

 And its mighty, vice-like talons, sharp as spears, and bloody red, * 

 With its giant wings extended, and its alligator tail, 

 And its body all protected by a rugged coat of mail. 



All day, perched upon the hill-top, it would gaze upon the wave. 

 But at nightfall it would settle down to roost within the cave ; 

 And as regular as nature, just at break and close of day, 

 It would spread its sail-like pinions, and go forth m search of prey. 



Woe to any living creature that its eagle eye might scan ! 

 Oft it captured deer or bison, but its favorite food was man ! 

 It would seize its hapless victiim, and retire into the cave. 

 And, once grasped within those talons, all was powerless to save. 



Many a squaw beheld her warrior borne toward that fatal height. 

 Many a huntsman, home returning, found his wigwam bare at night ! 

 Sore dismayed, the tribe retreated far out on the western plain, 

 But the bird still followed after, and the flight was all in vain. 



Till the cavern floor was covered with a pile of human bones. 

 And the forest echoed loudly with a despairing nation's groans, — 

 When at last their aged chieftain, who had prayed and fasted much, 

 That his people might be rescued from the awful monster's clutch, 



In his dreams beheld a vision, and was counseled by a voice — 

 And the counsel tliat it gave him made his stout old heart rejoice. 

 Though the Maniteau informed him that to save his people's life, 

 He, himself, must be the victim, and might perish in the strife ! 



