Quail Hill

"Tis said that 'round Lenape campfires many great tribal tales can be heard.
This beautiful legend came down thru' the years - how a maiden changed into a bird.

Brown Wing, a Lenape daughter, communed in the woodland, alone.
Birds and wild creatures gathered around her, for her love of all nature was known.
Old and young of her tribe cherished Brown Wing for the tokens she cheerfully gave.
She was dearly beloved by Long Feather, her betrothed, her young Lenape brave.

One Fall morning, the braves were off hunting, when New York's savage Seneca band
made a raid on the Lenape village.  The assailed scattered to the woodland.
Brown Wing was seized by her captors, she fell to the ground on her knees,
imploring, "Great Manitou, protect me," and her God heard her desperate pleas.
For, just then came a bright bolt of lightning, and a sudden wind swept from the sea.
A deafening crash filled the hillside, when the lightning bolt split a pine tree.
The enemy still groped for Brown Wing, not heeding Great Manitou's wrath,
all they saw was a quail soaring skyward, so they made their retreat down the path.

In haste, they returned to their tribesmen, related, with awe their strange tale
how as they snatched Brown Wing, she'd vanished, and came back into sight a brown quail.
When the hunters returned to their lodges, Brown Wing wept in Long Feather's arms.
Soon, the story was told 'round the village, how God had kept Brown Wing from harm.
By the power received to escape them, she had also helped drive off the foe.
Brown Wing's life, evermore, with Long Feather was richly blessed by the Great Manitou.

Our first settlers heard it from tribesmen, the story as it is told still.
We now call it Smithville, where this happened, and the knoll, to this day, is Quail Hill.
-Lillian Arnold Lopez "Pineylore"

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