1898-99. | FAMOUS ALGONQUINS; ALGIC LEGENDS. 311 
Mrs. Johnston, once the fair Neéngai, or her daughters, who inherited 
their talents from Waub-Ojeeg, and no doubt also from their high- 
spirited Irish father. Dr. R. Bell relieves the monotony of geological 
research in our Northland by gathering gems of Algic story and song. 
Dr. Brinton, Mr. Leland, Horatio Hale, Dr. Chamberlain and others have 
also found here a mine of interest and beautiful imagery. . It forms the 
folk-lore of an ancient race in which are preserved the thoughts, theories 
and imaginings of many past ages. It proves the kinship of this brave 
people to the dwellers in other lands, with the like joys, sorrows and fate. 
These legends are of the thunder and other powers and wonders of 
nature, of love, war and revenge, of the birds of the air, of the beasts of 
the chase, of the great sturgeon and other denizens of the waters, and 
are more various than the fables of AZsop. They tell of gray-haired 
winter leaning on his staff, of bright-eyed spring, his brow covered with 
flowers and breathing from his lips an air sweet as the wild rose, the 
beauty of the moon and the morning star, of the sunset and the Aurora, 
at once the emblem of promise and path of the spirits of the dead. 
They personify frost and hunger and tell of the magic canoe that will 
float to the happy hunting fields where at last plenty will abound. 
When Fridtjof Nansen, in the stout little “vam, was on his way to 
pass three years in ice and snow, he looked out on his beautiful Norway 
and exclaimed, “ You may shrug your shoulders as much as you like at 
the beauties of nature, but it is a fine thing for a people to have a fair 
land, be it never so poor.” We have in our Algic land a territory that, 
for natural beauty, is not excelled by any on the face of the earth. Here 
are fertile valleys, tree clad hills, pellucid streams and mineral wealth in 
abundance. It is the paradise of hunters, the favorite haunt of the 
naturalist. The beautiful grosbeak flits about among the berries. 
The rossignol and song-sparrow enliven the woods and streams with 
their melody. 
But let us not forget to add to the delight received from the senses 
and hope of the future, that satisfaction which should arise in his breast 
who feels that this too is a land of poetry, allegory and ancient story, 
that combine to make a charming background of Canadian history. We 
have considered the origin and traced the genesis of the lore and 
romance that crowns every hill and peoples with a fairy creation every 
vale, lake and island of our Algic land. So feeling, let us not allow the 
New England cuckoo to oust from her nest the Canadian song-sparrow. 
A poet has called this land “Our Lady of the Snows.” Beautiful 
