492 STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



have doubtless all practiced the custom more or less. In Nicaraugua the 

 natives suspended the heads of sacrificed captives in the branches of trees. 

 Some of the northwestern Indians believed that the souls of those who died a 

 natural death were compelled to dwell in the branches of tall trees. The 

 Ojibways believed that trees had souls, and, in pagan times, seldom cut them 

 duwn while living, for they thought it put them in pain, and they could hear 

 their wailing as they suffered. Schoolcraft, Jones and others frequently 

 speak of these notions. Any tree which gave forth a sound from its trunk 

 or branches was at once reported and soon came to be regarded as the resi- 

 dence of some local spirit. Kohl speaks of an Indian who had chosen a tam- 

 arack as his protector, because he thought he heard a remarkable rustling in 

 its branches, which was evidence enough to him that a spirit was domiciled 

 therein. Roman Payne says of the western Indian tribes, that if an Indian 

 in passing through the forest should see a motion or shaking in a tree that he 

 thought supernatural, he would address himself to it and report the same to 

 the medicine man or priest of the tribe, who would advise him to go at 

 once and offer sacrifice to the new deity. Payne also says that they believed 

 that certain trees sent for sorcerers and told them how to shape their bodies 

 into idols, and being installed in temple huts inspired their priests with 

 oracles. 



This spiritual vitality ascribed to trees even led to the belief in the descent 

 of man from them. The Indians about Saginaw had a tradition that a boy 

 sprang from a tree within which one of his ancestors had been buried. The 

 founders of the Neztec monarchy descended from two majestic trees that 

 stood in a gorge of the mountains of Apaoto. Bancroft also says the 

 Zapotecs attribute! their origin to trees, and their cypresses and palms often 

 received offerings of incense and other gifts. The Chiapanese had a tradi- 

 tion that they sprang from the roots of the silk-cotton tree. 



A legend of the Ojibways illustrates the morbid imagination of many of 

 these children of the forest. The maiden Leelinau, whenever she could 

 leave her father's lodge, would wander away to the remote recesses of the 

 forest or sit in lonely revery upon a high promontory of rock overlooking the 

 lake. In such places she would linger long, with her face turned upward as 

 if she were invoking her guardian spirit and beseeching him to lighten her sad- 

 ness. But amid all her leafy haunts none drew her steps so often as did a 

 forest of young pines on the open shore, called manitowok or sacred wood. 

 It was one of those places hallowed by the presence of the little wild men of 

 the woods and the turtle spirits or fairies which delight in romantic scenes. 

 Its green retirement was seldom visited by any others of her tribe, who feared 

 to fall under the influence of its mischievous inhabitants. It had been the 

 custom of Leelinau to pass many hours in this forest under a spreading 

 young pine whose leaves whispered in every wind that blew, but most of all 

 in that gentle murmur of the air at evening when the twilight steals on, the 

 hour of all hours dear to lovers. While reclining pensively against the 

 young pine she heard a voice addressing her. At first it was scarcely more 

 than a sigh, but presently it became stronger and she heard it distinctly 

 whisper: "Maiden, think me not a tree, but thine own dear lover, glad to be 

 with thee in all my strength, with the bright green waving plumes that hang 

 above thee. Thou art leaning on my breast, Leelinau. Lean forever there 

 and be at peace. Fly from men who are false and cruel, and quit the tur- 

 moil of their dusty strife, for this quiet, lonely shade. Above thee I will 



