Martin was a young Algonquin Indian who lived with his tribe not far from today’s Saints-Martyrs-Canadiens village. Martin had decided to take this day free to enjoy hunting and fishing at his leisure. With his pony Tanaka he rode to Sunday Lake where hunting of deer and moose was supposed to be aplenty.
It was a sunny July day and nature around Sunday Lake was bountiful. Martin had a bow and a dozen arrows with which he was very skillful, particularly in the hunting of deer.
In reaching the lake he was surprised to see that a young girl was swimming near the low waters where hundreds of white lilies were to be admired. She was around 16 years of age and of extraordinary beauty. When she saw Martin, she went quietly to the shoreline, got dressed and collected herself. To her side she held a bow and she also had a back quiver full of arrows, attached to her back with leather straps.
Her dress was simple but very practical. While the top was made of linen, a leather skirt with bright colours defended her legs against the rough branches of the woods.
She went towards Martin with a smile in her face.
“Hello, Welcome to Sunday Lake. This is my territory and I invite you to enjoy its beauty. My name is Water Lily. May I know yours?”
“Water Lily. That is a beautiful name which certainly matches your beauty and that of the lake in front of us. My name is Martin and my family is of the Algonquin tribe. Tonight I will be returning to my people.”
“You seem to be tired. Why don’t you come to my house where I can make you an appetizing meal? I have my own little farm and a vegetable garden where I obtain all the food I need.”
Martin was paralyzed by the delicacy, beauty and gentle manners of Water Lily, so he could not refuse. To his surprise, the girl opened an entrance that was hidden behind heavy juniper bushes. The entrance gave way to a fertile field surrounded by cliffs and rocks, so it was impossible to see it from the lake side. A variety of flowers were blooming and various wild animals could be seen running without fear. Rabbits, a fox, groundhogs, raccoons and more. At the sight of a black bear Martin took his bow and was ready to kill the animal, but Water Lily stopped him.
“No, Martin, please stop! Killing animal life is not permitted in this zone. I have been appointed by the Holy Indian Spirit to defend the region from hunters. Animals can fight among themselves as nature calls out of necessity but human hunters do not need to kill for the fun of it. In fact, I have been requested to kill any human hunter who does not obey those rules.”
Martin was taken by surprise as in fact the bear did not show any signs of aggressive behavior.
They entered a small log cabin beautifully arranged with flowers and a fireplace. Martin was in heaven and the affection he felt for Water Lily was something he never felt before. When she came to offer him a meal and a glass of water, she softly kissed him in the mouth. In response, he embraced her and kissed her with passion.
“Water Lily, you are such an incredibly beautiful girl. Do you live alone here in this cabin?” She explained that she was the guardian of Sunday Lake wilderness. That her existence only belonged to the real world when a human entered the lake region.
“Martin, I am in love with you. If you want to stay with me for the rest of your days in this paradise, I will be the happiest woman. But you have to promise that you will not kill any wild animal outside our farm.”
“Water Lily, I have no family and this is such a wonderful experience that I will stay with you here for the rest of my days. With regards to hunting, do not worry, I do not need to hunt and will keep all animal life in peace.”
Martin kept his promise. He and Water Lily shared the cabin like husband and wife. However, when September came, Martin had serious problems with his instincts. As a good follower of Algonquin traditions, the pressure to hunt deer was too strong. One day in mid-September he said to Water Lily: “I am going to go for a walk to the hill and will take the bow just in case I encounter an aggressive bear”.
He climbed to the top of the Sunday Lake Hill and sure enough, a beautiful bock was portrayed against the sky on top of a rock. Martin aimed carefully and the bock was hit right in the heart. He fell without a struggle. Now Martin did not know what to do. He would tell Water Lily and perhaps they could make several meals with the dead animal.
In reaching the cabin Water Lily with the bow in her hand met Martin and said: “Martin, The Holy Indian Spirit has just told me that a deer has been killed a few minutes ago and I just noticed that a new water lily has been born at the lake. I never told you this: every animal killed by man around Sunday Lake is remembered with a new lily flower being born on the surface of the lake. Was it you who killed the deer?”
“Yes, I was. But it is hunting season and other deer will die too. I thought it was not such a big deal. But… what are you doing? Please do not shoot at me!!”
An arrow went straight through Martin’s heart and, just like the bock, he fell without saying a word.
A stream of tears came to Water Lily’s eyes. She kissed Martin’s face and said: “Martin, Oh, Martin, I am under the spell of the Great Spirit and I cannot but defend the nature around the Lake. I have loved you and now I do not know when the next hunter will want to abide by these rules and by my love. So many lilies have blossomed on Sunday Lake. So much animal life wasted for the pleasure of killing…” And she went into the lovely cabin with her bow and her arrows.
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