"He wore his Sacred Order's gown,
A long loose robe of reddish brown."

A LEGEND
OF
GOAT ISLAND

Ascribed to FATHER LOUIS HENNEPIN, who visited
Niagara in 1678

BY

PETER A. PORTER

Sketches by C. BRECKINRIDGE PORTER

THE GAZETTE PRESS, NIAGARA FALLS, N. Y.

A LEGEND OF GOAT ISLAND

It is told in Indian story,
Dim tradition of the race,
How, to God's eternal glory,
And through His all-saving grace,
Many a warrior's heart was stirred
To belief in His ever-living Word,
And the Faith that saves us all,
By a Priest, whose holy mission
Overcame their superstition
About the Island, which divides
Niagara's tumultuous tides,
At the brink of the mighty Fall.

Here is the story, as 'tis told
In one of the chronicles of old.

'Twas many a year ago, when o'er
The land on Ni-a-gáh-ra's shore
The Neuter tribe held sway.
On its western bank, above, but near,
Where rapids begin, in wild career
Toward the Fall, and down as low
As a bark canoe could safely go,
One of their villages lay.
In that village by the river,
Late one eve, when bow and quiver
Had been laid aside,
And the warriors were sitting
In the silence, deemed befitting
To an Indian's pride,
A stranger in their midst appeared,
Whose hoary locks and silvery beard
Were to their vision strange and weird.
He was a man of giant size,
Which found him favor in their eyes,
As, at his priestly garb amazed,
In silent wonderment they gazed.

He wore his Sacred Order's gown,
A long loose robe of reddish brown,
Across his shoulders, lightly flung,
The cape and cowl backward hung,
Around his waist a rope was twined,
A girdle and a scourge combined;
While from it, hanging loose and free,
Suspended hung the rosary.
He was the first of stranger race
They e'er had met with, face to face,
Though they knew that such-frocked men
Had visited their brethren.
When they saw him, brave and squaw
Viewed him with a reverend awe.

A wanderer, all alone he came,
He bore no weapons, gave no name.
He said his errand was to teach
The glories of the Life to be,
When, after death, men's spirits reach
The confines of Eternity,
And, as he spake in Indian speech,
They listened most attentively.
For he had dwelt for many a day
Mid Indian tribes, far, far away,
And thus had learnt the Indian tongue
From those whom he had dwelt among.
So, sullenly, they let him share

Their fire's warmth and frugal fare,
And then they suffered him to tell
His mission in the way he chose,
Though little cared they what befell
Their souls, so they but feasted well,
And were victorious o'er their foes.

Later on, as they were sitting
In the fire's cheerful light,
Shadows round them weirdly flitting,
As the moon rose into sight,
The stranger asked, in tones of wonder,
Whence that sound of endless thunder,
That dull, reverberating sound
That seemed to shake the very ground?

For answer, came the Chief's command,
"Be

...

A LEGEND
OF
GOAT ISLAND