• 01 - 12: Dare Romance IX

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The Following Pages Are Directly Taken From:

Virginia Dare: A Romance of the Sixteenth Century

Miss E. A. B. Shackleford · 1892

CHAPTER IX.

** To cure heartache is godfather Time's business, and even

he is not invariably successful." — J. H. Ewing.

When great sorrow comes to us in youth, we

feel it must affect and change the whole world;

but when we have lived longer in this change-

able world, we take it for granted that the

whirl of life will go on as usual, only we our-

selves drop out for a little while, to fight with

our heartache alone, and to conquer it, with

God's help, ere we take up the busy thread of

our life again with placid faces, just as if our

thread and shuttle were as bright and beautiful

as before ; and perhaps when all our work looks

gray to us, we are weaving the most perfect and

beautiful pattern.

Poor little Virginia had never thought of life

without her mother, until that conversation

which Manteo had interrupted; and then her

mind was so full of Iosco's sickness that she did

not think of her mother's words again until that

[105]

dreadful moment came when she called and

called, and no answer came from those still lips,

and she knew that her mother would never hold

her in her arms again and kiss her. Everything

went on just as before, except that the frost

soon changed to a thaw, game became more

plentiful, and the suffering less. But not so

Virginia's sorrow: it was so deep and intense

for a while, Mistress Wilkins thought it would

wear her young life out. Beth was her great

comfort through this lonely time: she was one

to love, one who really needed her, and the two

children truly loved each other. Iosco grew

quite strong after a time : he never forgot what

Mrs. Dare had done for him, and that it was in

saving his life she had hastened her own death.

He had always been fond of Virginia, and now

his love was mingled with gratitude. There

was hardly an hour of the day he did not bring

some little offering for "Owaissa," or tell her

stories, or sing songs to her. Time softens the

greatest and sharpest sorrow. Let us thank

God for it : we should die were it not so.

Though Virginia's heart was nearly broken by

her mother's death, and she wished that she too

, . might die, she did not die, but took her life up

bravely after a while; helping those among

[106]

whom she lived and whom she really loved;

gathering flowers and forest treasures in the

summer ; watching the birds build their nests,

and the trees put on their pretty dresses in

budding-time ; helping in the work, and play-

ing merry games through roasting-ear time; in

the fall of the leaf gathering acorns and nuts,

and in winter sitting with others around the

wigwam fires of cedar-wood, and listening to

the stories which the old men told.

So the years passed by, and Owaissa grew

from a child to a girl. She was tall and

slender; her eyes had a more thoughtful ex-

pression than when she was a child, but in

other ways she was unchanged. She grew up a

perfectly natural girl, full of the poetry and

romance of the wild people of the forest. Iosco

was still her devoted friend: she looked upon

him as a brother. They wandered through the

forest together, gathering flowers or acorns or

sweet grasses. Sometimes they sat down and

rested on the banks of a little stream, and told

each other stories. Iosco's were of the wild

Indian lore. He told her of Odjibwa and the

Red Swan, of Hiawatha and his Minnehaha.

One day they sat on the bank of a little stream

which rushed on, making a tiny waterfall just

[107]

below, which sang to them ; so Iosco thought, as

he sat there with Owaissa, while overhead the

pines waved their lofty branches, and the soft

breezes whispered love-songs among them.

Wild-flowers and delicate mosses nestled about

their feet. All around, laurel blossoms made

the forest beautiful and the air fragrant. Birds

were flying to and fro, and from a near tree a

whip-poor-will was singing to its mate, as if

it were telling its love. Iosco was watching

Virginia. She looked more like an angel than

ever, as she sat with her golden hair falling in

masses over her mantle of doe-skins, her slender

hands clasped while she listened to the water

and the birds.

Her eyes of deepest blue were looking

thoughtfully far away. Iosco was fond of

Virginia, very fond; but he never thought of

her as he did of the Indian maidens. The mo-

ments he spent with her were the happiest in

his life. When they walked hand in hand, a

strange thrill passed through him. He would

have died for her willingly, had there been any

need. His quick eye saw now that she was sad

as she sat listening ; and he drew closer to her

as he asked, "Where do Owaissa's thoughts

go, that they send such sorrow out of her

eyes?"

[108]

"Iosco," she said, "mamma would tell me if

she were here, that I ought to be thankful for

all God has given me. I often fancy when I

sit alone that I can hear her telling me just as

she used to, that it is one's duty not only to be

contented, but to be cheerful and happy. I

think I am usually, don't you, Iosco ? "

He nodded as he replied, " Owaissa is like a

bird, her eyes are so bright, her laugh is so

merry."

"I try to be," she went on, "and I am very

happy indeed. Every one is so kind to me ;

but sometimes I can't help wishing very much

that I could see some of my own people. I

should like to know if my father is alive, and if

he sometimes thinks of me. He went away

when I was only ten days old: I know he could

not forget his baby."

They sat silently for a few minutes, then Vir-

ginia looked up into Iosco's face. " You know,"

she said softly, "sometimes I feel sure my

father will come for me and take me away."

Had she felt Iosco's hand, she would have

been astonished at its icy coldness, and would

have wondered what made him clinch his fingers

as if he were in pain. From that day a wild

dread of the white man's return haunted Iosco.

[109]

An Indian never shows his emotion, so he only-

said quietly, "Did I ever tell Owaissa the

story of Battao? It is a beautiful one from the

far north, a captive of my father's told it to me."

"No: you never told it to me. I should like

to hear it," Virginia said, with a little sigh.

Iosco would have made an ideal picture as he

sat there. His black hair was thrown back

from a high forehead, beneath which two dark

eyes looked out, which were remarkable for

their depth and truth. He had a straight, well-

cut nose, and a mouth almost severe, so firm

and decided was its expression. When he

smiled, one forgot the stern look, for a sweet,

gentle expression transformed the face. It was

a classical face, and its owner had a deep sense

and appreciation of the poetry of life. Certainly

they made a study for an artist, — the fair girl

with her golden hair, and the graceful figure of

the Indian, as he told her the quaint old Indian

legend.

"Many, many moons back, in the sunny

north, over towards the setting sun, lived a

mighty Werowance whom they called Tyee.

His lands stretch all along the beautiful sound,

where fine wampum is found. This Tyee had a

daughter. The name of the beautiful maid was

[110]

Battao. Every one, even those far away, knew

of the rich wampum and the fine furs that would

belong to the man who should take Battao for

his wife. Her father said she should go to no

man whom she did not love, and he kept firmly

to this, though chiefs of great tribes came to

win her, and many from every part sought her.

Battao would look at none of them.

" One day a brave warrior came, tall and hand-

some. Battao looked at him, trusted his brave

eyes, and loved him. As they floated over the

smooth waters in Battao's swift canoe, they

came to a beautiful island, where they sat on

the shore and talked. And many days when

the sun had gone half-way on its journey, and

done its day's baking, so that the air was as

that which comes from the fire, Battao and her

maidens would cross to the beautiful island,

and there her lover would tell them strange

stories. As they listened, the maidens sifted

the soft sea-sand through their fingers, and as

it fell upon the shore it formed the shape of

whatever Battao's lover was saying ; there it

hardened, and yet may be found, and it brings

the favor of all the gods to any one who finds

one of the forms and wears it in his wampum

belt."

[111]

" Oh, I should like to see some of the shapes,

Iosco, wouldn't you ? " asked Virginia.

"Yes," he said, "I should; and I should like

to go to that land, it is so sunny, our captive

said."

" It could not be more lovely than it is here,"

Virginia replied; "but please go on and tell

me what became of Battao."

Iosco was happy for the present; at least he

had made Owaissa forget the white tribe, and

the canoes with pinions like wings, that she had

said she was sure would come. So he went on

gladly : —

"One day, when Battao, with her lover in

her canoe, and all her maids in their canoes,

were going back from the beautiful island, as

they came to the deep part of the water, Battao's

lover said some words to her in a strange lan-

guage that the maiden could not understand,

then sprang into the water. Battao did not

cry out, she only looked down where her lover

had disappeared; so did her maidens. But he

did not rise, nor could they see anything of him,

and they went home to their people. When

they told the strange story, all the people said

Battao's lover had drowned himself, and other

men began to come every hour. But Battao

[112]

would not look at them or their presents, saying

that her lover was not dead, that he said before

he jumped into the water he would come

back in twelve days. None of her people be-

lieved Battao ; and her maids went into the

wood, wailing and mourning for her loss. But

every day when the sun was half-way on its

journey, she would call her maids from the

wood and lead them down to the water. Then

they would paddle their canoes to the place

where Battao's lover had disappeared, and she

would look down into the water, in which she

could see the clouds, the sun, and even the trees

and mountains, all looking at themselves. She

saw not the brave and handsome lover until the

twelfth day came. And then, while she looked

down, he sprang up out of the shining water

into Battao's canoe."

" Oh, how happy she must have been ! " cried

Virginia.

"Yes, very happy," continued Iosco, "and

all of Battao's people; for her lover brought

many presents with him, rare and wonderful

flowers that grow in the sea, and large pearls.

For Battao he brought beautiful coral. Then

there was a great happiness among all the peo-

ple ; for Battao and her lover were married. As

[113]

they paddled out in their canoe one day soon

after, Battao asked her lover where he went to

down in the water. He told her his people

lived there, and he wanted her to go and see

his tribe, where they hunted whales and seals,

and gathered pearls and coral and beautiful

shells, such as she had never seen. She took

his hand, and together they sprang into the

shining water. All the maidens, seeing the

water swallow Battao up, gave a great cry that

shook the whole forest. But she called out to

them that she would come back to see her

father. All her people mourned for her, and

said some evil spirit must have taken her, and

she must now be a fish in the water. But on

the twelfth day she came to her people and to

her father's wigwam, and told great and wonder-

ful stories of the things she had seen. And she

brought beautiful presents to her father, and

to all her people. When she would go back,

her father bowed down and grieved so that he

would have died, but that she put her hand on

his breast and promised him that while he lived

his daughter would be with him six moons

every year. And so she was; the rest of the

time she was with her husband in the big sea-

water. But she still remembered and loved her

[114]

people, and warns them of storms, even to this

day, our captive said. She is seen over the

place where she and her lover went down, and

she looks tall and misty. No one dares come

near her, for something dreadful has happened

to all who have ever tried; before every dread-

ful storm she comes, and the people call the

island to which she and her maidens went to

listen to the lover's wonderful stories, the island

of Battao."

They sat silently for a few moments, when

Iosco had finished the story ; then Virginia

asked, " Do you think, Iosco, that all can tell

whether they will love each other when they

look at each other for the first time ? "

There was a strange look in Iosco's eyes, as

he answered, " Iosco can tell little about such

things, Owaissa ; some people surely could."

After another pause, Virginia said, "• Your

stories are so beautiful, Iosco, and I love them ;

but they make me wish that I knew more of

the stories of my people ; there must be many

that I have never heard, and even some of those

my mother told me I have forgotten. I ought to

have remembered them, and then I could tell

you them, and teach you more about our God.

I speak of him only to you, Iosco, for I know

[115]

SO little ; I cannot even remember for myself ;

and when I try to talk to Mistress Wilkins

about him, she shakes her head and says, ' Oh !

he has forgotten us. If he loved us he would

take us from this place ; don't speak to me about

him, child, this is not his land. He cannot

hear us when we speak to him. There is no

priest or altar to hallow the land.' But, Iosco,

when I am alone in the forest sometimes, and

all is still, I can almost hear him speaking to

me, and I feel and know that he is close to me,

and I want so much to know him. I can only

kneel down and say as mamma used, ' Dear Lord,'

and I know he heai'S me. Beth or Patience

or any of the others does not know as much as

I: they have forgotten, or were never taught

as I was, and you know I could not ask any of

the men. Patience says they are the very

worst that came over from England. I wish

you knew, Iosco."

He did not reply; and they sat quietly to-

gether, only the song of the little birds above,

and the sound of the falling water broke the

perfect stillness.

[116]

Page 01: Legend of the Clay (Mud) BABIES

Visitors to the west end of Fox Island (Batil Merman) often wonder why the waves wash the pebbles up in the shape of birds, fish or other animals. According to an old Indian legend, the daughter of Batil played there in the sand many years ago and shaped the mud into various forms. After a while, she would tire of her play and then wash her hands in the creek making the waters muddy. In time this place came to be known by the name of TCEKWILA'LGO or Muddy Water. When she grew to womanhood many young Indian men from far and near sought to marry her but she would not marry any of them. One evening as she walked along the beach to her usual playground a strange young brave suddenly appeared by. After some time he came to speak with her. The next evening he came ne again, and the next until the fourth night. Each morning he departed as mysteriously as he came. Interested in the young brave, the young woman decided she would discover the path he followed on his return home. On the fourth morning she saw him reach the shore and stepping into the water, he disappeared as mysteriously as he came The Indian maiden told her parents of this strange happening. As the parents talked and thought of this strange event they became alarmed. They knew that this must be the son of "The Old Man of the Sea" and if they gave offense by refusing to allow their daughter to marry his son, then he might dry up the springs on the island Their fears were not groundless as events soon proved. The water in the springs disappeared and as if by magic the grass became brown and the crops died.

Page 02: Legend of the Clay (Mud) BABIES

As soon as the parents gave their consent for their daughter to marry the springs returned to normal. At last one day the young man came to claim his wife. Taking her hand they stepped into the sea and disappeared beneath the surface. Three times the daughter returned to visit her parents. On the fourth visit there was kelp growing on her face. She was changing, assuming more of the nature of a sea creature Her parents were saddened to see her so changed and told her it would be better if she did not return again. She left them forever to live with her husband under the water. Now when she becomes lonesome she returns to her old playground and makes the odd shapes that visitors find in the clay and sand. A floating buoy marks the spot midway between Fox Island and the town of Steilacoom under which they built their home The Geology of Clay Babies Clay Babies (sometimes called Mud Babies) are found in two places-Australia and Fox Island- where large veins of clay extend from the hanks out onto the These natural formations made by the pressure of the earth pushing beach. downward and forcing the wet oozing blue clay upwards. The clay emerges in finger-like strata stuck in the mud and sand. The action of the tide washes and rolls the finger-like strata removing the softer clay and sand and makes fascinating one of a kind shapes Saving our Fox Island Clay Babies Although not an official park, the Fox Island Sand Spit is a PenMet property and it prohibits the removal of natural elements including clay babies, driftwood, etc.

Legend of The Clay BABIES:

Batil Mermen that visited the west end of Battao Island were often perplexed as to why the waves wash up pebbles in the shape of birds, fish and other animals.

According to native folklore, the daughter of Batil played there in the sand and shaped the mud into various forms for fun.

After a while, she would tire of her play and then wash her hands in the creek making the waters muddy.

TCEKWILA'LGO, which means "Muddy Water," earned the name for this location over time.

When she reached womanhood many young Indian men from far and near sought to marry her but she refused to marry any of them.

One evening as she walked along the beach to her normal playing grounds, she was joined by a curious young brave.

He approached her after some time had gone by to speak with her. They enjoyed each other's company and conversations.

They would talk under the moon all night by the water's edge.  He returned the next evening, and the night after that, and so on until the fourth night.

Each morning, he left as mysteriously as he had arrived. The young woman was so fascinated with the young brave that she decided to follow his path home.

On the fourth morning, she watched him approach the coast and take a step into the sea before disappearing under the waters as mysteriously as he would appeared.

Never coming back to the surface until the following night. 

The Indian maiden's parents were informed of this bizarre experience. The parents became concerned as they discussed and contemplated this bizarre phenomenon.

They were certain that this brave was the son of "The Old Man of the Sea."

They were afraid that if they insulted him by refusing to let their daughter marry his son, the island's springs would all dry up.

As events would soon show, their fears were not unwarranted. As if by magic, the water in the springs gone, the grass became brown, and the crops died.

As soon as the parents agreed to their daughter's marriage, the springs returned to normal. The young brave eventually arrived to claim his bride.

With their hands intertwined, they stepped under the waves and vanished beneath the surface. Three times the maiden returned to see her parents.

Kelp and barnacles had begun to develop on her face by the fourth visit. She was morphing and taking on the appearance of a sea creature.

Her parents were saddened to see her in such a different state and advised her not to return to visit anymore.

For the youngsters, her appearance had become too hideous and frightening, and they refused to play near the water.

She left them forever to live with her husband under the waves.

When she becomes lonesome, she goes back to her old playground and creates the peculiar sculptures that tourists can discover in the clay and sand.

A floating buoy marks the area where they erected their home halfway between Battao Island and Steilacoom.

Clay Babies (also known as Mud Babies) can be found in two locations: Australia and Fox Island, where enormous veins of clay emerge out onto the beach.

These natural formations are caused by the earth's pressure pushing the moist oozing blue clay upwards. The clay emerges from the mud and sand in finger-like strata.

The water washes and twists the finger-like layers, removing the softer clay and sand and revealing unique structures in the process.

On Battao Island, Clay Babies are being protected federally, tribally and personally on the private beaches by the island community.

The Sand Spit on Fox Island (Battao Island) is a PenMet property that strictly prohibits the removal of natural components like as clay babies and driftwood.