THE ART OF BARTRAM 121 



ing and . . . cried out like a child " (p. xxvi) . There is the 

 description of Indians hunting deer, which moves with the 

 tempo of the genuine story-teller: 



The red warrior, whose plumed head flashes lightning, whoops in 

 vain; his proud, ambitious horse strains and pants; the earth glides 

 from under his feet, his flowing mane whistles in the wind, as he comes 

 up full of vain hopes. The bounding roe views his rapid approaches, 

 rises up, lifts aloft his antled head, erects the white flag, and fetching 

 a shrill whistle, says to his fleet and free associates, ""follow;" he 

 bounds ofi^, and in a few minutes distances his foe a mile ; suddenly he 

 stops, turns about, and laughing says, "" how vain, go chase meteors in 

 the azure plains above, or hunt butterflies in the fields about your towns 

 (p. 188). 



And there is the account of a battle between a hawk and a snake 

 '" that had wreathed himself several times round the hawk's 

 body." The two, he tells us, finally " mutually agreed to sepa- 

 rate themselves, each one seeking his own safety, probably con- 

 sidering me as their common enemy " (pp. 218-19)- 



Besides these stories of encounters between man and man, 

 man and animals, and animals and animals, Bartram also re- 

 lates many Indian stories. He picks up historical episodes and 

 tribal legends and relates them with his usual gusto and charm, 

 with especial care to their dramatic values. To these belong his 

 account of the Indian's disagreement with the Georgians's deter- 

 mination of the land boundaries (pp. 39-40) ; his account of 

 the origin of the Creek Confederacy (pp. 34-55) ; and the beau- 

 tiful legend of the mythical island in Lake Ouaquaphenogaw, 



a most blissful spot of the earth . . . inhabited by a peculiar race of 

 Indians, whose women are incomparably beautiful; . . . this terrestrial 

 paradise has been seen by some . . . enterprising hunters, when in 

 pursuit of game, who being lost in inextricable swamps and bogs, and 

 on the point of perishing, were unexpectedly relieved by a company of 

 beautiful women, whom they call daughters of the sun, who kindly 

 gave them such provisions as they had with them, which were chiefly 

 fruit, oranges, dates, &c. and some corn cakes, and then enjoined them 

 to fly for safety to their own country; for that their husbands were 

 fierce men, and cruel to strangers. . . . (pp. 24-26). 



The importance of Bartram's narrative ability becomes height- 

 ened if a comparison is made between his art and that of the 



