South of Mt. Shasta, in the now famed canyon of the Sacramento, are
great natural curiosities, known as the fountains of Shasta--streams
of water pure as crystal, cold even in the midst of summer, gushing
out from the rock, and falling down the mountain side into the river.
They are supposed to be outlets of a subterranean stream fed by the
eternal snows that crown the peak, where the Coast Mountains of the
west join the Sierras of the east. They include the noted Mossbrae
Falls and a number of springs, several of which are mineral in character,
one of them being the celebrated Shasta Spring. These remarkable springs,
or fountains, as they may with propriety be termed, are accounted
for by the following legend, mention of which is also made by Bancroft,
who cites from Joaquin Miller's tales of Modoc life:
In the far, far long ago, the Great Spirit concluded to make the
world. He created Mt. Shasta first. Using a large sharp stone as an
auger, he bored a hole in the sky, through which he pushed down snow
and ice until he had reared the mountain. Then he stepped down from
cloud to cloud to the peak, and thence to earth. Stooping, he pressed
his finger into the ground here and there, and caused the first trees
to start. The sun commenced its action, causing the snow to melt and
give nourishment to the trees.
The Great Spirit gathered some leaves,
breathed upon them, and they became birds. He then broke a stick into
a number of pieces. From the small pieces he made fish--from the middle
pieces he made the lesser animals--from the large pieces he made the
grizzly bear, and gave him the authority to act as master over all
the animal creation. The grizzly soon became so large, so powerful,
and so cunning that the Great Spirit began to fear him, and, as a
matter of protection, made a wigwam for himself out of Mt. Shasta.
The Great Spirit and his family dwelt within, and the smoke curling
up from the summit showed that the fire was burning on the hearth.
Then a great storm came--the wind blew the ocean against the mountain
and made it tremble. The Great Spirit asked his little daughter to
go up and quiet the storm, cautioning her not to look out, but to
put forth her hand and make a sign before giving the command. The
child clambered up to the roof, did as told, and was about to descend,
when her curiosity got the best of her; she wanted to see what the
world looked like--she put out her head--the wind caught her by the
hair, dragged her down the mountain side, and left her in the land
of the grizzly bears. Near the mountain base dwelt a family of grizzlies.
The old grizzly was returning from a hunt with a young elk in one
paw and a bludgeon on his shoulder. He spied the fair child unconscious
on the ground. He lifted the little one tenderly and carried her to
his home. The old mother grizzly pitied the child and gave her milk
from her own breast, and reared her as one of her own family. The
girl grew up and married the eldest son of the old grizzly, and their
offspring was man. The grizzlies then were very different from the
grizzlies now--they walked erect like men, carried clubs for weapons
and talked. When man was born, the grizzly nation rejoiced and was
filled with pride. They united and built a wigwam for the young mother
near that of the Great Spirit--and it is now known as Little Mount
Shasta.
Many years passed away; the old mother grizzly became feeble
and felt she was soon to die. Her conscience smote her, because through
all the years she had concealed from the Great Spirit the whereabouts
of his child. She called the grizzlies together at the new Lodge,
and sent her eldest grandson up toward the clouds to the summit of
Mt. Shasta, to tell the Great Spirit where his darling might be found.
When the Great Spirit heard, he was filled with joy, and ran down
the mountain with great speed--so great was his speed, the snow was
melted and streams began to flow, and hidden water courses were formed
and the fountain and springs along the Sacramento (including the wonderful
Shasta Spring) began to flow, as they continue to this day.
The grizzly nation had assembled from all quarters of their domain
and prepared a grand reception. As the Great Spirit neared his daughter's
wigwam he found thousands of grizzlies standing erect with clubs on
their shoulders, in two files facing, one on either side of the door.
As the Great Spirit sped down between the lines, shouts of welcome
rent the air. He reached his child, but when he found her so changed,
and that a new race had been created without his consent, he was seized
with anger; his rage was fearful to behold. He looked at the old grandmother
grizzly with such an awful countenance that she died on the spot.
Then the grizzlies began to howl and lament. The Great Spirit lifted
his daughter tenderly in his arms, and, before departing, turned to
the grizzlies and cursed them in his fury. "Be silent,"
he cried. "Never again speak. Stand erect no more. Use your hands
as feet, and look to the ground till I come again." Then he drove
them away, and also drove the new race of men from him. He then closed
the door of Little Mt. Shasta and returned to his own wigwam, carrying
his daughter with him, and they were never afterwards seen.
The grizzlies are still under his curse; they never speak or stand
erect except when life is in danger, when the Great Spirit permits
them to stand upright as of old and use their fists like men. The
Great Spirit, with his daughter, long since returned to the land beyond
the sky. The wigwam is abandoned. The hearthstone is cold. Smoke no
longer curls upwards from the summit of Mt. Shasta.
