{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_22072/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_22072","id":"gutenberg_22072","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22072","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore","Indians of North America -- Folklore","Native America"],"text":"Produced by Julie Barkley, Sam W. and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n        FOLK-LORE\n\n           AND\n\n         LEGENDS\n\n\n  NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN\n\n\n      W. W. GIBBINGS\n18 BURY ST., LONDON, W.C.\n          1890\n\n\n\n\nFOLK-LORE AND LEGENDS\n\n_NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN_\n\n\nUNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME.\n\n\"_These dainty little books._\"--STANDARD.\n\nFOLK-LORE AND LEGENDS.\n\n_FIRST SERIES._\n\n  1. GERMAN.\n  2. ORIENTAL.\n  3. SCOTLAND.\n  4. IRELAND.\n\n\n_SECOND SERIES._\n\n  1. ENGLAND.\n  2. SCANDINAVIAN.\n  3. RUSSIAN.\n  4. NORTH AMERICAN INDIAN.\n\n\"_They transport us into a romantic world._\"--TIMES.\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTE.\n\n\nIt might have been expected that the Indians of North America would\nhave many Folklore tales to tell, and in this volume I have\nendeavoured to present such of them as seemed to me to best illustrate\nthe primitive character and beliefs of the people. The belief, and the\nlanguage in which it is clothed, are often very beautiful. Fantastic\nimagination, magnanimity, moral sentiment, tender feeling, and humour\nare discovered in a degree which may astonish many who have been apt\nto imagine that advanced civilisation has much to do with the\npossession of such qualities. I know of nothing that throws so much\nlight upon Indian character as their Folk-tales.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                           PAGE\n\n  Moowis,                                     1\n\n  The Girl who Married the Pine-tree,         9\n\n  A Legend of Manabozho,                     11\n\n  Pauppukkeewis,                             15\n\n  The Discovery of the Upper World,          33\n\n  The Boy who Snared the Sun,                37\n\n  The Maid in the Box,                       41\n\n  The Spirits and the Lovers,                45\n\n  The Wonderful Rod,                         54\n\n  The Funeral Fire,                          56\n\n  The Legend of O-na-wut-a-qut-o,            63\n\n  Manabozho in the Fish's Stomach,           69\n\n  The Sun and the Moon,                      72\n\n  The Snail and the Beaver,                  75\n\n  The Strange Guests,                        79\n\n  Manabozho and his Toe,                     88\n\n  The Girl who Became a Bird,                90\n\n  The Undying Head,                          92\n\n  The Old Chippeway,                        113\n\n  Mukumik! Mukumik! Mukumik!,               116\n\n  The Swing by the Lake,                    119\n\n  The Fire Plume,                           123\n\n  The Journey to the Island of Souls,       129\n\n  Machinitou, the Evil Spirit,              134\n\n  The Woman of Stone,                       144\n\n  The Maiden who Loved a Fish,              147\n\n  The Lone Lightning,                       151\n\n  Aggo-dah-gauda,                           154\n\n  Piqua,                                    158\n\n  The Evil Maker,                           177\n\n  Manabozho the Wolf,                       179\n\n  The Man-fish,                             186\n\n\n\n\nMOOWIS.\n\n\nIn a large village there lived a noted belle, or Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa,\nwho was the admiration of all the young hunters and warriors. She\nwas particularly admired by a young man who, from his good figure\nand the care he took in his dress, was called the Beau-Man, or\nMa-mon-da-gin-in-e. This young man had a friend and companion whom\nhe made his confidant.\n\n\"Come,\" said he one day, in a sportive mood, \"let us go a-courting to\nher who is so handsome, perhaps she may fancy one of us.\"\n\nShe would, however, listen to neither of them; and when the handsome\nyoung man rallied her on the coldness of her air, and made an effort\nto overcome her indifference, she repulsed him with the greatest\ncontempt, and the young man retired confused and abashed. His sense of\npride was deeply wounded, and he was the more piqued because he had\nbeen thus treated in the presence of others, and this affair had been\nnoised about in the village, and became the talk of every lodge\ncircle. He was, besides, a very sensitive man, and the incident so\npreyed upon him that he became moody and at last took to his bed. For\ndays he would lie without uttering a word, with his eyes fixed on\nvacancy, and taking little or no food. From this state no efforts\ncould rouse him. He felt abashed and dishonoured even in the presence\nof his own relatives, and no persuasions could induce him to rise, so\nthat when the family prepared to take down the lodge to remove he\nstill kept his bed, and they were compelled to lift it from above his\nhead and leave him upon his skin couch. It was a time of general\nremoval and breaking up of the camp, for it was only a winter\nhunting-camp, and as the season of the hunt was now over, and spring\nbegan to appear, his friends all moved off as by one impulse to the\nplace of their summer village, and in a short time all were gone, and\nhe was left alone. The last person to leave him was his boon companion\nand cousin, who had been, like him, an admirer of the forest belle.\nThe hunter disregarded even his voice, and as soon as his steps died\naway on the creaking snow the stillness and solitude of the wilderness\nreigned around.\n\nAs soon as all were gone, and he could no longer, by listening, hear\nthe remotest sound of the departing camp, the Beau-Man arose.\n\nNow this young man had for a friend a powerful guardian spirit or\npersonal manito, and he resolved, with this spirit's aid, to use his\nutmost power to punish and humble the girl, for she was noted in her\ntribe for her coquetry, and had treated many young men, who were\nevery way her equals, as she had treated this lover. He resolved on a\nsingular stratagem by way of revenge.\n\nHe walked over the deserted camp and gathered up all the cast-off bits\nof soiled cloth, clippings of finery, and old clothing and ornaments,\nwhich had either been left there as not worth carrying away, or\nforgotten. These he carefully picked out of the snow, into which some\nof them had been trodden, and collected in one place. These gaudy and\nsoiled stuffs he restored to their original beauty, and made of them a\ncoat and leggings, which he trimmed with beads, and finished and\ndecorated after the best fashion of his tribe. He then made a pair of\nmoccasins and garnished them with beads, a bow and arrows, and a\nfrontlet and feathers for the head. Having done this he searched about\nfor cast-out bones of animals, pieces of skin, clippings of dried\nmeat, and even dirt. Having cemented all this together he filled the\nclothes with it, pressed the mass firmly in, and fashioned it,\nexternally, in all respects like a tall and well-shaped man. He put a\nbow and arrows in its hands, and the frontlet on its head. Having\nfinished it he brought it to life, and the image stood forth in the\nmost favoured lineaments of his fellows. Such was the origin of\nMoowis, or the Dirt-and-Rag Man.\n\n\"Follow me,\" said the Beau-Man, \"and I will direct you how you shall\nact.\"\n\nMoowis was, indeed, a very sightly person, and as the Beau-Man led him\ninto the new encampment where the girl dwelt, the many colours of his\nclothes, the profusion of his ornaments, his manly deportment, his\nanimated countenance, drew all eyes to him. He was hospitably\nreceived, both old and young showing him great attention. The chief\ninvited him to his lodge, and he was there treated to the moose's hump\nand the finest venison.\n\nNo one was better pleased with the handsome stranger than\nMa-mon-da-go-Kwa. She fell in love with him at first sight, and he was\nan invited guest at the lodge of her mother the very first evening of\nhis arrival. The Beau-Man went with him, for it was under his\npatronage that he had been introduced, and, in truth, he had another\nmotive in accompanying him, for he had not yet wholly subdued his\nfeelings of admiration for the object against whom he had,\nnevertheless, exerted all his necromantic power, and he held himself\nready to take advantage of any favourable turn which he secretly hoped\nthe visit might take in relation to himself. No such opportunity,\nhowever, arose. Moowis attracted the chief attention, every eye and\nheart was alert to entertain him. In this effort on the part of his\nentertainers they had well-nigh brought about his destruction by\ndissolving him into his original elements of rags, snow, and dirt, for\nhe was assigned the most prominent place near the fire, where he was\nexposed to a heat that he could by no means endure. However, he warded\nthis calamity off by placing a boy between him and the fire; he\nshifted his position frequently, and evaded, by dexterous manoeuvres\nand timely remarks, the pressing invitation of his host to sit and\nenjoy the warmth. He so managed these excuses as not only to conceal\nhis dread of immediate dissolution, but to secure the further\napprobation of the fair forest girl, who was filled with admiration of\none who had so brave a spirit to endure the paralysing effects of\ncold.\n\nThe visit proved that the rejected lover had well calculated the\neffects of his plan. He withdrew from the lodge, and Moowis triumphed.\nBefore the Beau-Man left he saw him cross the lodge to the coveted\n_abinos_, or bridegroom's seat. The dart which Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa had so\noften delighted in sending to the hearts of her admirers she was at\nlength fated to receive. She had married an image.\n\nAs the morning began to break the stranger arose, adjusted his\nwarrior's plumes, and took his forest weapons to depart.\n\n\"I must go,\" said he, \"for I have important work to do, and there are\nmany hills and streams between me and the object of my journey.\"\n\n\"I will go with you,\" said Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa.\n\n\"The journey is too long,\" replied her husband, \"and you are ill able\nto encounter the perils of the way.\"\n\n\"It is not so long but that I will go,\" answered his wife, \"and there\nare no dangers I will not share with you.\"\n\nMoowis returned to the lodge of his master, and told him what had\noccurred. For a moment pity took possession of the young man's heart.\nHe regretted that she whom he so loved should thus have thrown\nherself away upon an image, a shadow, when she might have been the\nmistress of the best lodge in the camp.\n\n\"It is her own folly,\" he said; \"she has turned a deaf ear to the\ncounsels of prudence. She must submit to her fate.\"\n\nThe same morning Moowis set forth, and his wife followed him at a\ndistance. The way was rough and intricate, and she found that she\ncould not keep up with him, he walked so quickly. She struggled hard\nand obstinately to overtake him, but Moowis had been for some time out\nof sight when the sun rose and commenced upon his snow-formed body the\nwork of dissolution. He began to melt away and fall to pieces. As\nMa-mon-da-go-Kwa followed in his track she found piece after piece of\nhis clothing in the path. She first found his mittens, then his\nmoccasins, then his leggings, then his coat, and after that other\nparts of his garments. As the heat unbound them the clothes also\nreturned to their filthy condition. Over rocks, through wind-falls,\nacross marshes, Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa pursued him she loved. The path\nturned aside in all directions. Rags, bones, leather, beads, feathers,\nand soiled ribbons she found, but caught no sight of Moowis. She spent\nthe day in wandering, and when evening came she was still alone. The\nsnow having now melted, she had completely lost her husband's track,\nand she wandered about uncertain which way to go and in a state of\nperfect despair. At length with bitter cries she lamented her fate.\n\n\"Moowis, Moowis,\" she cried, \"nin ge won e win ig, ne won e win\nig!\"--\"Moowis, Moowis, you have led me astray, you are leading me\nastray!\"\n\nWith this cry she wandered in the woods.\n\nThe cry of the lost Ma-mon-da-go-Kwa is sometimes repeated by the\nvillage girls who have made of it a song--\n\n    Moowis! Moowis!\n    Forest rover,\n      Where art thou?\n    Ah! my bravest, gayest lover,\n      Guide me now.\n\n    Moowis! Moowis!\n    Ah! believe me,\n      List my moan:\n    Do not, do not, brave heart, leave me\n      All alone.\n\n    Moowis! Moowis!\n    Footprints vanished!\n      Whither wend I?\n    Fated, lost, detested, banished\n      Must I die!\n\n    Moowis! Moowis!\n    Whither goest thou,\n      Eye-bright lover?\n    Ah! thou ravenous bird that knowest,\n      I see thee hover,\n\n    Circling, circling\n    As I wander,\n      And at last\n    When I fall thou then wilt come\n      And feed upon my breast.\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIRL WHO MARRIED THE PINE-TREE.\n\n\nUpon the side of a certain mountain grew some pines, under the shade\nof which the Puckwudjinies, or sprites, were accustomed to sport at\ntimes. Now it happened that in the neighbourhood of these trees was a\nlodge in which dwelt a beautiful girl and her father and mother. One\nday a man came to the lodge of the father, and seeing the girl he\nloved her, and said--\n\n\"Give me Leelinau for my wife,\" and the old man consented.\n\nNow it happened that the girl did not like her lover, so she escaped\nfrom the lodge and went and hid herself, and as the sun was setting\nshe came to the pine-trees, and leaning against one of them she\nlamented her hard fate. On a sudden she heard a voice, which seemed to\ncome from the tree, saying--\n\n\"Be my wife, maiden, beautiful Leelinau, beautiful Leelinau.\"\n\nThe girl was astonished, not knowing whence the voice could have come.\nShe listened again, and the words were repeated, evidently by the tree\nagainst which she leaned. Then the maid consented to be the wife of\nthe pine-tree.\n\nMeanwhile her parents had missed her, and had sent out parties to see\nif she could be found, but she was nowhere.\n\nTime passed on, but Leelinau never returned to her home. Hunters who\nhave been crossing the mountain, and have come to the trees at sunset,\nsay that they have seen a beautiful girl there in company with a\nhandsome youth, who vanished as they approached.\n\n\n\n\nA LEGEND OF MANABOZHO.\n\n\nManabozho made the land. The occasion of his doing so was this.\n\nOne day he went out hunting with two wolves. After the first day's\nhunt one of the wolves left him and went to the left, but the other\ncontinuing with Manabozho he adopted him for his son. The lakes were\nin those days peopled by spirits with whom Manabozho and his son went\nto war. They destroyed all the spirits in one lake, and then went on\nhunting. They were not, however, very successful, for every deer the\nwolf chased fled to another of the lakes and escaped from them. It\nchanced that one day Manabozho started a deer, and the wolf gave\nchase. The animal fled to the lake, which was covered with ice, and\nthe wolf pursued it. At the moment when the wolf had come up to the\nprey the ice broke, and both fell in, when the spirits, catching them,\nat once devoured them.\n\nManabozho went up and down the lake-shore weeping and lamenting. While\nhe was thus distressed he heard a voice proceeding from the depths of\nthe lake.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" cried the voice, \"why do you weep?\"\n\nManabozho answered--\n\n\"Have I not cause to do so? I have lost my son, who has sunk in the\nwaters of the lake.\"\n\n\"You will never see him more,\" replied the voice; \"the spirits have\neaten him.\"\n\nThen Manabozho wept the more when he heard this sad news.\n\n\"Would,\" said he, \"I might meet those who have thus cruelly treated me\nin eating my son. They should feel the power of Manabozho, who would\nbe revenged.\"\n\nThe voice informed him that he might meet the spirits by repairing to\na certain place, to which the spirits would come to sun themselves.\nManabozho went there accordingly, and, concealing himself, saw the\nspirits, who appeared in all manner of forms, as snakes, bears, and\nother things. Manabozho, however, did not escape the notice of one of\nthe two chiefs of the spirits, and one of the band who wore the shape\nof a very large snake was sent by them to examine what the strange\nobject was.\n\nManabozho saw the spirit coming, and assumed the appearance of a\nstump. The snake coming up wrapped itself around the trunk and\nsqueezed it with all its strength, so that Manabozho was on the point\nof crying out when the snake uncoiled itself. The relief was, however,\nonly for a moment. Again the snake wound itself around him and gave\nhim this time even a more severe hug than before. Manabozho\nrestrained himself and did not suffer a cry to escape him, and the\nsnake, now satisfied that the stump was what it appeared to be, glided\noff to its companions. The chiefs of the spirits were not, however,\nsatisfied, so they sent a bear to try what he could make of the stump.\nThe bear came up to Manabozho and hugged, and bit, and clawed him till\nhe could hardly forbear screaming with the pain it caused him. The\nthought of his son and of the vengeance he wished to take on the\nspirits, however, restrained him, and the bear at last retreated to\nits fellows.\n\n\"It is nothing,\" it said; \"it is really a stump.\"\n\nThen the spirits were reassured, and, having sunned themselves, lay\ndown and went to sleep. Seeing this, Manabozho assumed his natural\nshape, and stealing upon them with his bow and arrows, slew the chiefs\nof the spirits. In doing this he awoke the others, who, seeing their\nchiefs dead, turned upon Manabozho, who fled. Then the spirits pursued\nhim in the shape of a vast flood of water. Hearing it behind him the\nfugitive ran as fast as he could to the hills, but each one became\ngradually submerged, so that Manabozho was at last driven to the top\nof the highest mountain. Here the waters still surrounding him and\ngathering in height, Manabozho climbed the highest pine-tree he could\nfind. The waters still rose. Then Manabozho prayed that the tree would\ngrow, and it did so. Still the waters rose. Manabozho prayed again\nthat the tree would grow, and it did so, but not so much as before.\nStill the waters rose, and Manabozho was up to his chin in the flood,\nwhen he prayed again, and the tree grew, but less than on either of\nthe former occasions. Manabozho looked round on the waters, and saw\nmany animals swimming about seeking land. Amongst them he saw a\nbeaver, an otter, and a musk-rat. Then he cried to them, saying--\n\n\"My brothers, come to me. We must have some earth, or we shall all\ndie.\"\n\nSo they came to him and consulted as to what had best be done, and it\nwas agreed that they should dive down and see if they could not bring\nup some of the earth from below.\n\nThe beaver dived first, but was drowned before he reached the bottom.\nThen the otter went. He came within sight of the earth, but then his\nsenses failed him before he could get a bite of it. The musk-rat\nfollowed. He sank to the bottom, and bit the earth. Then he lost his\nsenses and came floating up to the top of the water. Manabozho awaited\nthe reappearance of the three, and as they came up to the surface he\ndrew them to him. He examined their claws, but found nothing. Then he\nlooked in their mouths and found the beaver's and the otter's empty.\nIn the musk-rat's, however, he found a little earth. This Manabozho\ntook in his hands and rubbed till it was a fine dust. Then he dried it\nin the sun, and, when it was quite light, he blew it all round him\nover the water, and the dry land appeared.\n\nThus Manabozho made the land.\n\n\n\n\nPAUPPUKKEEWIS.\n\n\nA man of large stature and great activity of mind and body found\nhimself standing alone on a prairie. He thought to himself--\n\n\"How came I here? Are there no beings on this earth but myself? I must\ntravel and see. I must walk till I find the abodes of men.\"\n\nSo as soon as his mind was made up he set out, he knew not whither, in\nsearch of habitations. No obstacles diverted him from his purpose.\nPrairies, rivers, woods, and storms did not daunt his courage or turn\nhim back. After travelling a long time he came to a wood in which he\nsaw decayed stumps of trees, as if they had been cut in ancient times,\nbut he found no other traces of men. Pursuing his journey he found\nmore recent marks of the same kind, and later on he came to fresh\ntraces of human beings, first their footsteps, and then the wood they\nhad cut lying in heaps.\n\nContinuing on he emerged towards dusk from the forest, and beheld at a\ndistance a large village of high lodges, standing on rising ground. He\nsaid to himself--\n\n\"I will arrive there at a run.\"\n\nOff he started with all his speed, and on coming to the first lodge he\njumped over it. Those within saw something pass over the top, and then\nthey heard a thump on the ground.\n\n\"What is that?\" they all said.\n\nOne came out to see, and, finding a stranger, invited him in. He found\nhimself in the presence of an old chief and several men who were\nseated in the lodge. Meat was set before him, after which the chief\nasked him where he was going and what his name was. He answered he was\nin search of adventures, and that his name was Pauppukkeewis\n(grasshopper). The eyes of all were fixed upon him.\n\n\"Pauppukkeewis!\" said one to another, and the laugh went round.\n\nPauppukkeewis made but a short stay in the village. He was not easy\nthere. The place gave him no opportunity to display his powers.\n\n\"I will be off,\" he said, and taking with him a young man who had\nformed a strong attachment for him and who might serve him as a\nmesh-in-au-wa (official who bears the pipe), he set out once more on\nhis travels. The two travelled together, and when the young man was\nfatigued with walking Pauppukkeewis would show him a few tricks, such\nas leaping over trees, and turning round on one leg till he made the\ndust fly in a cloud around him. In this manner he very much amused his\ncompanion, though at times his performance somewhat alarmed him.\n\nOne day they came to a large village, where they were well received.\nThe people told them that there were a number of manitoes who lived\nsome distance away and who killed all who came to their lodge.\n\nThe people had made many attempts to extirpate these manitoes, but the\nwar parties that went out for this purpose were always unsuccessful.\n\n\"I will go and see them,\" said Pauppukkeewis.\n\nThe chief of the village warned him of the danger he would run, but\nfinding him resolved, said--\n\n\"Well, if you will go, since you are my guest, I will send twenty\nwarriors with you.\"\n\nPauppukkeewis thanked him for this. Twenty young men offered\nthemselves for the expedition. They went forward, and in a short time\ndescried the lodge of the manitoes. Pauppukkeewis placed his friend\nand the warriors near him so that they might see all that passed, and\nthen he went alone into the lodge. When he entered he found five\nhorrible-looking manitoes eating. These were the father and four sons.\nTheir appearance was hideous. Their eyes were set low in their heads\nas if the manitoes were half starved. They offered Pauppukkeewis part\nof their meat, but he refused it.\n\n\"What have you come for?\" asked the old one.\n\n\"Nothing,\" answered Pauppukkeewis.\n\nAt this they all stared at him.\n\n\"Do you not wish to wrestle?\" they all asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied he.\n\nA hideous smile passed over their faces.\n\n\"You go,\" said the others to their eldest brother.\n\nPauppukkeewis and his antagonist were soon clinched in each other's\narms. He knew the manitoes' object,--they wanted his flesh,--but he\nwas prepared for them.\n\n\"Haw, haw!\" they cried, and the dust and dry leaves flew about the\nwrestlers as if driven by a strong wind.\n\nThe manito was strong, but Pauppukkeewis soon found he could master\nhim. He tripped him up, and threw him with a giant's force head\nforemost on a stone, and he fell insensible.\n\nThe brothers stepped up in quick succession, but Pauppukkeewis put his\ntricks in full play, and soon all the four lay bleeding on the ground.\nThe old manito got frightened, and ran for his life. Pauppukkeewis\npursued him for sport. Sometimes he was before him, sometimes over his\nhead. Now he would give him a kick, now a push, now a trip, till the\nmanito was quite exhausted. Meanwhile Pauppukkeewis's friend and the\nwarriors came up, crying--\n\n\"Ha, ha, a! Ha, ha, a! Pauppukkeewis is driving him before him.\"\n\nAt length Pauppukkeewis threw the manito to the ground with such force\nthat he lay senseless, and the warriors, carrying him off, laid him\nwith the bodies of his sons, and set fire to the whole, consuming them\nto ashes.\n\nAround the lodge Pauppukkeewis and his friends saw a large number of\nbones, the remains of the warriors whom the manitoes had slain. Taking\nthree arrows, Pauppukkeewis called upon the Great Spirit, and then,\nshooting an arrow in the air, he cried--\n\n\"You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit.\"\n\nThe bones at these words all collected in one place. Again\nPauppukkeewis shot another arrow into the air, crying--\n\n\"You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit,\" and each bone\ndrew towards its fellow.\n\nThen he shot a third arrow, crying--\n\n\"You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit,\" and the bones\nimmediately came together, flesh came over them, and the warriors,\nwhose remains they were, stood before Pauppukkeewis alive and well.\n\nHe led them to the chief of the village, who had been his friend, and\ngave them up to him. Soon after, the chief with his counsellors came\nto him, saying--\n\n\"Who is more worthy to rule than you? You alone can defend us.\"\n\nPauppukkeewis thanked the chief, but told him he must set out again in\nsearch of further adventures. The chief and the counsellors pressed\nhim to remain, but he was resolved to leave them, and so he told the\nchief to make his friend ruler while he himself went on his travels.\n\n\"I will come again,\" said he, \"sometime and see you.\"\n\n\"Ho, ho, ho!\" they all cried, \"come back again and see us.\"\n\nHe promised that he would, and set out alone.\n\nAfter travelling for some time, he came to a large lake, and on\nlooking about he saw an enormous otter on an island. He thought to\nhimself--\n\n\"His skin will make me a fine pouch,\" and, drawing near, he drove an\narrow into the otter's side. He waded into the lake, and with some\ndifficulty dragged the carcass ashore. He took out the entrails, but\neven then the carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do\nto drag it up a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got it into\nthe sunshine, where it was warm, he skinned the otter, and threw the\ncarcass away, for he said to himself--\n\n\"The war-eagle will come, and then I shall have a chance to get his\nskin and his feathers to put on my head.\"\n\nVery soon he heard a noise in the air, but he could see nothing. At\nlength a large eagle dropped, as if from the sky, on to the otter's\ncarcass. Pauppukkeewis drew his bow and sent an arrow through the\nbird's body. The eagle made a dying effort and lifted the carcass up\nseveral feet, but it could not disengage its claws, and the weight\nsoon brought the bird down again.\n\nThen Pauppukkeewis skinned the bird, crowned his head with its\nfeathers, and set out again on his journey.\n\nAfter walking a while he came to a lake, the water of which came right\nup to the trees on its banks. He soon saw that the lake had been made\nby beavers. He took his station at a certain spot to see whether any\nof the beavers would show themselves. Soon he saw the head of one\npeeping out of the water to see who the stranger was.\n\n\"My friend,\" said Pauppukkeewis, \"could you not turn me into a beaver\nlike yourself?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied the beaver; \"I will go and ask the others.\"\n\nSoon all the beavers showed their heads above the water, and looked to\nsee if Pauppukkeewis was armed, but he had left his bow and arrows in\na hollow tree a short distance off. When they were satisfied they all\ncame near.\n\n\"Can you not, with all your united power,\" said he, \"turn me into a\nbeaver? I wish to live among you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered the chief, \"lie down;\" and Pauppukkeewis soon found\nhimself changed into one of them.\n\n\"You must make me large,\" said he, \"larger than any of you.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said they; \"by and by, when we get into the lodge, it\nshall be done.\"\n\nThey all dived into the lake, and Pauppukkeewis, passing large heaps\nof limbs of trees and logs at the bottom, asked the use of them. The\nbeavers answered--\n\n\"They are our winter provisions.\"\n\nWhen they all got into the lodge their number was about one hundred.\nThe lodge was large and warm.\n\n\"Now we will make you large,\" said they, exerting all their power.\n\"Will that do?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered, for he found he was ten times the size of the\nlargest.\n\n\"You need not go out,\" said they. \"We will bring your food into the\nlodge, and you shall be our chief.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered Pauppukkeewis. He thought--\n\n\"I will stay here and grow fat at their expense,\" but very soon a\nbeaver came into the lodge out of breath, crying--\n\n\"We are attacked by Indians.\"\n\nAll huddled together in great fear. The water began to lower, for the\nhunters had broken down the dam, and soon the beavers heard them on\nthe roof of the lodge, breaking it in. Out jumped all the beavers and\nso escaped. Pauppukkeewis tried to follow them, but, alas! they had\nmade him so large that he could not creep out at the hole. He called\nto them to come back, but none answered. He worried himself so much in\ntrying to escape that he looked like a bladder. He could not change\nhimself into a man again though he heard and understood all the\nhunters said. One of them put his head in at the top of the lodge.\n\n\"Ty-au!\" cried he. \"Tut-ty-au! Me-shau-mik! King of the beavers is\nin.\"\n\nThen they all got at Pauppukkeewis and battered in his skull with\ntheir clubs. After that seven or eight of them placed his body on\npoles and carried him home. As he went he reflected--\n\n\"What will become of me? My ghost or shadow will not die after they\nget me to their lodges.\"\n\nWhen the party arrived home, they sent out invitations to a grand\nfeast. The women took Pauppukkeewis and laid him in the snow to skin\nhim, but as soon as his flesh got cold, his jee-bi, or spirit, fled.\n\nPauppukkeewis found himself standing on a prairie, having assumed his\nmortal shape. After walking a short distance, he saw a herd of elks\nfeeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life, and\nthought there could be nothing more pleasant than to have the liberty\nof running about, and feeding on the prairies. He asked them if they\ncould not change him into an elk.\n\n\"Yes,\" they answered, after a pause. \"Get down on your hands and\nfeet.\" He did so, and soon found himself an elk.\n\n\"I want big horns and big feet,\" said he. \"I wish to be very large.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" they said. \"There,\" exerting all their power, \"are you big\nenough?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered, for he saw he was very large.\n\nThey spent a good time in playing and running.\n\nBeing rather cold one day he went into a thick wood for shelter, and\nwas followed by most of the herd. They had not been there long before\nsome elks from behind passed them like a strong wind. All took the\nalarm, and off they ran, Pauppukkeewis with the rest.\n\n\"Keep out on the plains,\" said they, but he found it was too late to\ndo so, for they had already got entangled in the thick woods. He soon\nsmelt the hunters, who were closely following his trail, for they had\nleft all the others to follow him. He jumped furiously, and broke down\nyoung trees in his flight, but it only served to retard his progress.\nHe soon felt an arrow in his side. He jumped over trees in his agony,\nbut the arrows clattered thicker and thicker about him, and at last\none entered his heart. He fell to the ground and heard the whoop of\ntriumph given by the warriors. On coming up they looked at the carcass\nwith astonishment, and, with their hands up to their mouths,\nexclaimed--\n\n\"Ty-au! ty-au!\"\n\nThere were about sixty in the party, who had come out on a special\nhunt, for one of their number had, the day before, observed\nPauppukkeewis's large tracks in the sand. They skinned him, and as his\nflesh got cold his jee-bi took its flight, and once more he found\nhimself in human shape.\n\nHis passion for adventure was not yet cooled. On coming to a large\nlake, the shore of which was sandy, he saw a large flock of brant,\nand, speaking to them, he asked them to turn him into a brant.\n\n\"Very well,\" said they.\n\n\"But I want to be very large,\" said he.\n\n\"Very well,\" replied the brant, and he soon found himself one of them,\nof prodigious size, all the others looking on at him in amazement.\n\n\"You must fly as leader,\" they said.\n\n\"No,\" replied Pauppukkeewis, \"I will fly behind.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said they. \"One thing we have to say to you. You must be\ncareful in flying not to look down, for if you do something may happen\nto you.\"\n\n\"Be it so,\" said he, and soon the flock rose up in the air, for they\nwere bound for the north. They flew very fast with Pauppukkeewis\nbehind. One day, while going with a strong wind, and as swift as their\nwings would flap, while they passed over a large village, the Indians\nbelow raised a great shout, for they were amazed at the enormous size\nof Pauppukkeewis. They made such a noise that Pauppukkeewis forgot\nwhat had been told him about not looking down. He was flying as swift\nas an arrow, and as soon as he brought his neck in, and stretched it\ndown to look at the shouters, his tail was caught by the wind, and he\nwas blown over and over. He tried to right himself, but without\nsuccess. Down he went from an immense height, turning over and over.\nHe lost his senses, and when he recovered them he found himself jammed\nin a cleft in a hollow tree. To get backward or forward was\nimpossible, and there he remained until his brant life was ended by\nstarvation. Then his jee-bi again left the carcass, and once more he\nfound himself in human shape.\n\nTravelling was still his passion, and one day he came to a lodge, in\nwhich were two old men whose heads were white from age. They treated\nhim well, and he told them he was going back to his village to see his\nfriends and people. The old men said they would aid him, and pointed\nout the way they said he should go, but they were deceivers. After\nwalking all day he came to a lodge very like the first, and looking in\nhe found two old men with white heads. It was in fact the very same\nlodge, and he had been walking in a circle. The old men did not\nundeceive him, but pretended to be strangers, and said in a kind\nvoice--\n\n\"We will show you the way.\"\n\nAfter walking the third day, and coming back to the same place, he\ndiscovered their trickery, for he had cut a notch in the door-post.\n\n\"Who are you,\" said he to them, \"to treat _me_ so?\" and he gave one a\nkick and the other a slap that killed them. Their blood flew against\nthe rocks near their lodge, and that is the reason there are red\nstreaks in them to this day. Then Pauppukkeewis burned their lodge.\n\nHe continued his journey, not knowing exactly which way to go. At last\nhe came to a big lake. He ascended the highest hill to try and see the\nopposite shore, but he could not, so he made a canoe and took a sail\non the water. On looking down he saw that the bottom of the lake was\ncovered with dark fish, of which he caught some. This made him wish to\nreturn to his village, and bring his people to live near this lake. He\nsailed on, and towards evening came to an island, where he stopped and\nate the fish.\n\nNext day he returned to the mainland, and, while wandering along the\nshore, he encountered a more powerful manito than himself, named\nManabozho. Pauppukkeewis thought it best, after playing him a trick,\nto keep out of his way. He again thought of returning to his village,\nand, transforming himself into a partridge, took his flight towards\nit. In a short time he reached it, and his return was welcomed with\nfeasting and songs. He told them of the lake and of the fish, and,\ntelling them that it would be easier for them to live there, persuaded\nthem all to remove. He immediately began to lead them by short\njourneys, and all things turned out as he had said.\n\nWhile the people lived there a messenger came to Pauppukkeewis in the\nshape of a bear, and said that the bear-chief wished to see him at\nonce at his village. Pauppukkeewis was ready in an instant, and\ngetting on the messenger's back was carried away. Towards evening they\nascended a high mountain, and came to a cave, in which the bear-chief\nlived. He was a very large creature, and he made Pauppukkeewis\nwelcome, inviting him into his lodge.\n\nAs soon as propriety allowed he spoke, and said that he had sent for\nhim because he had heard he was the chief who was leading a large\nparty towards his hunting-grounds.\n\n\"You must know,\" said he, \"that you have no right there, and I wish\nyou to leave the country with your party, or else we must fight.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Pauppukkeewis, \"so be it.\"\n\nHe did not wish to do anything without consulting his people, and he\nsaw that the bear-chief was raising a war-party, so he said he would\ngo back that night. The bear-king told him he might do as he wished,\nand that one of the bears was at his command; so Pauppukkeewis,\njumping on its back, rode home. Then he assembled the village, and\ntold the young men to kill the bear, make ready a feast, and hang the\nhead outside the village, for he knew the bear spies would soon see it\nand carry the news to their chief.\n\nNext morning Pauppukkeewis got all his young warriors ready for the\nfight. After waiting one day, the bear war-party came in sight, making\na tremendous noise. The bear-chief advanced, and said that he did not\nwish to shed the blood of the young warriors, but if Pauppukkeewis\nwould consent they two would run a race, and the winner should kill\nthe losing chief, and all the loser's followers should be the slaves\nof the other. Pauppukkeewis agreed, and they ran before all the\nwarriors. He was victor; but not to terminate the race too quickly he\ngave the bear-chief some specimens of his skill, forming eddies and\nwhirlwinds with the sand as he twisted and turned about. As the\nbear-chief came to the post Pauppukkeewis drove an arrow through him.\nHaving done this he told his young men to take the bears and tie one\nat the door of each lodge, that they might remain in future as slaves.\n\nAfter seeing that all was quiet and prosperous in the village,\nPauppukkeewis felt his desire for adventure returning, so he took an\naffectionate leave of his friends and people, and started off again.\nAfter wandering a long time, he came to the lodge of Manabozho, who\nwas absent. Pauppukkeewis thought he would play him a trick, so he\nturned everything in the lodge upside down and killed his chickens.\nNow Manabozho calls all the fowl of the air his chickens, and among\nthe number was a raven, the meanest of birds, and him Pauppukkeewis\nkilled and hung up by the neck to insult Manabozho. He then went on\ntill he came to a very high point of rocks running out into the lake,\nfrom the top of which he could see the country as far as eye could\nreach. While he sat there, Manabozho's mountain chickens flew round\nand past him in great numbers. So, out of spite, he shot many of them,\nfor his arrows were sure and the birds many, and he amused himself by\nthrowing the birds down the precipice. At length a wary bird called\nout--\n\n\"Pauppukkeewis is killing us: go and tell our father.\"\n\nAway flew some of them, and Manabozho soon made his appearance on the\nplain below.\n\nPauppukkeewis slipped down the other side of the mountain. Manabozho\ncried from the top--\n\n\"The earth is not so large but I can get up to you.\"\n\nOff Pauppukkeewis ran and Manabozho after him. He ran over hills and\nprairies with all his speed, but his pursuer was still hard after him.\nThen he thought of a shift. He stopped, and climbed a large pine-tree,\nstripped it of all its green foliage, and threw it to the winds. Then\nhe ran on. When Manabozho reached the tree, it called out to him--\n\n\"Great Manabozho, give me my life again. Pauppukkeewis has killed\nme.\"\n\n\"I will do so,\" said Manabozho, and it took him some time to gather\nthe scattered foliage. Then he resumed the chase. Pauppukkeewis\nrepeated the same trick with the hemlock, and with other trees, for\nManabozho would always stop to restore anything that called upon him\nto give it life again. By this means Pauppukkeewis kept ahead, but\nstill Manabozho was overtaking him when Pauppukkeewis saw an elk. He\nasked it to take him on its back, and this the animal did, and for a\ntime he made great progress. Still Manabozho was in sight.\nPauppukkeewis dismounted, and, coming to a large sandstone rock, he\nbroke it in pieces, and scattered the grains. Manabozho was so close\nupon him at this place that he had almost caught him, but the\nfoundation of the rock cried out--\n\n\"Haye! Ne-me-sho! Pauppukkeewis has spoiled me. Will you not restore\nme to life?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Manabozho, and he restored the rock to its previous\nshape. He then pushed on in pursuit of Pauppukkeewis, and had got so\nnear as to put out his arm to seize him, when Pauppukkeewis dodged\nhim, and raised such a dust and commotion by whirlwinds, as to make\nthe trees break, and the sand and leaves dance in the air. Again and\nagain Manabozho's hand was put out to catch him, but he dodged him at\nevery turn, and at last, making a great dust, he dashed into a hollow\ntree, which had been blown down, and, changing himself into a snake,\ncrept out at its roots. Well that he did; for at the moment Manabozho,\nwho is Ogee-bau-ge-mon (a species of lightning) struck the tree with\nall his power, and shivered it to fragments. Pauppukkeewis again took\nhuman shape, and again Manabozho, pursuing him, pressed him hard.\n\nAt a distance Pauppukkeewis saw a very high rock jutting out into a\nlake, and he ran for the foot of the precipice, which was abrupt and\nelevated. As he came near, the manito of the rock opened his door and\ntold him to come in. No sooner was the door closed than Manabozho\nknocked at it.\n\n\"Open,\" he cried in a loud voice.\n\nThe manito was afraid of him, but said to his guest--\n\n\"Since I have sheltered you, I would sooner die with you than open the\ndoor.\"\n\n\"Open,\" Manabozho cried again.\n\nThe manito was silent. Manabozho made no attempt to force the door\nopen. He waited a few moments.\n\n\"Very well,\" said he, \"I give you till night to live.\"\n\nThe manito trembled, for he knew that when the hour came he would be\nshut up under the earth.\n\nNight came, the clouds hung low and black, and every moment the forked\nlightning flashed from them. The black clouds advanced slowly and\nthrew their dark shadows afar, and behind was heard the rumbling noise\nof the coming thunder. When the clouds were gathered over the rock the\nthunders roared, the lightning flashed, the ground shook, and the\nsolid rock split, tottered, and fell. Under the ruins lay crushed the\nmortal bodies of Pauppukkeewis and the manito.\n\nIt was only then that Pauppukkeewis found that he was really dead. He\nhad been killed before in the shapes of different animals, but now his\nbody, in human shape, was crushed.\n\nManabozho came and took his jee-bi, or spirit. \"You,\" said he to\nPauppukkeewis, \"shall not be again permitted to live on the earth. I\nwill give you the shape of the war-eagle, and you shall be the chief\nof all birds, and your duty shall be to watch over their destinies.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE DISCOVERY OF THE UPPER WORLD.\n\n\nThe Minnatarees, and all the other Indians who are not of the stock of\nthe grandfather of nations, were once not of this upper air, but dwelt\nin the bowels of the earth. The Good Spirit, when he made them, meant,\nno doubt, at a proper time to put them in enjoyment of all the good\nthings which he had prepared for them upon earth, but he ordered that\ntheir first stage of existence should be within it. They all dwelt\nunderground, like moles, in one great cavern. When they emerged it was\nin different places, but generally near where they now inhabit. At\nthat time few of the Indian tribes wore the human form. Some had the\nfigures or semblances of beasts. The Paukunnawkuts were rabbits, some\nof the Delawares were ground-hogs, others tortoises, and the\nTuscaroras, and a great many others, were rattlesnakes. The Sioux were\nthe hissing-snakes, but the Minnatarees were always men. Their part of\nthe great cavern was situated far towards the mountains of snow.\n\nThe great cavern in which the Indians dwelt was indeed a dark and\ndismal region. In the country of the Minnatarees it was lighted up\nonly by the rays of the sun which strayed through the fissures of the\nrock and the crevices in the roof of the cavern, while in that of the\nMengwe all was dark and sunless. The life of the Indians was a life of\nmisery compared with that they now enjoy, and it was endured only\nbecause they were ignorant of a fairer or richer world, or a better or\nhappier state of being.\n\nThere were among the Minnatarees two boys, who, from the hour of their\nbirth, showed superior wisdom, sagacity, and cunning. Even while they\nwere children they were wiser than their fathers. They asked their\nparents whence the light came which streamed through the fissures of\nthe rock and played along the sides of the cavern, and whence and from\nwhat descended the roots of the great vine. Their father could not\ntell them, and their mother only laughed at the question, which\nappeared to her very foolish. They asked the priest, but he could not\ntell them; but he said he supposed the light came from the eyes of\nsome great wolf. The boys asked the king tortoise, who sulkily drew\nhis head into his shell, and made no answer. When they asked the chief\nrattlesnake, he answered that he knew, and would tell them all about\nit if they would promise to make peace with his tribe, and on no\naccount kill one of his descendants. The boys promised, and the chief\nrattlesnake then told them that there was a world above them, a\nbeautiful world, peopled by creatures in the shape of beasts, having\na pure atmosphere and a soft sky, sweet fruits and mellow water,\nwell-stocked hunting-grounds and well-filled lakes. He told them to\nascend by the roots, which were those of a great grape-vine. A while\nafter the boys were missing; nor did they come back till the\nMinnatarees had celebrated their death, and the lying priest had, as\nhe falsely said, in a vision seen them inhabitants of the land of\nspirits.\n\nThe Indians were surprised by the return of the boys. They came back\nsinging and dancing, and were grown so much, and looked so different\nfrom what they did when they left the cavern, that their father and\nmother scarcely knew them. They were sleek and fat, and when they\nwalked it was with so strong a step that the hollow space rang with\nthe sound of their feet. They were covered with the skins of animals,\nand had blankets of the skins of racoons and beavers. They described\nto the Indians the pleasures of the upper world, and the people were\ndelighted with their story. At length they resolved to leave their\ndull residence underground for the upper regions. All agreed to this\nexcept the ground-hog, the badger, and the mole, who said, as they had\nbeen put where they were, they would live and die there. The rabbit\nsaid he would live sometimes above and sometimes below.\n\nWhen the Indians had determined to leave their habitations\nunderground, the Minnatarees began, men, women, and children, to\nclamber up the vine, and one-half of them had already reached the\nsurface of the earth, when a dire mishap involved the remainder in a\nstill more desolate captivity within its bowels.\n\nThere was among them a very fat old woman, who was heavier than any\nsix of her nation. Nothing would do but she must go up before some of\nher neighbours. Away she clambered, but her weight was so great that\nthe vine broke with it, and the opening, to which it afforded the sole\nmeans of ascending, closed upon her and the rest of her nation.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BOY WHO SNARED THE SUN.\n\n\nAt the time when the animals reigned on the earth they had killed all\nbut a girl and her little brother, and these two were living in fear\nand seclusion. The boy was a perfect pigmy, never growing beyond the\nstature of a small infant, but the girl increased with her years, so\nthat the labour of providing food and lodging devolved wholly on her.\nShe went out daily to get wood for their lodge fire, and took her\nbrother with her so that no accident might happen to him, for he was\ntoo little to leave alone--a big bird might have flown away with him.\nShe made him a bow and arrows, and said to him one winter day--\n\n\"I will leave you behind where I have been chopping; you must hide\nyourself, and you will see the gitshee-gitshee-gaun ai see-ug, or\nsnow-birds, come and pick the worms out of the wood, where I have been\nchopping. Shoot one of them and bring it home.\"\n\nHe obeyed her, and tried his best to kill one, but came home\nunsuccessful. She told him he must not despair, but try again the next\nday. She accordingly left him at the place where she got wood and\nreturned home. Towards nightfall she heard his footsteps on the snow,\nand he came in exultingly, and threw down one of the birds he had\nkilled.\n\n\"My sister,\" said he, \"I wish you to skin it and stretch the skin, and\nwhen I have killed more I will have a coat made out of them.\"\n\n\"What shall we do with the body?\" asked she, for as yet men had not\nbegun to eat animal food, but lived on vegetables alone.\n\n\"Cut it in two,\" he answered, \"and season our pottage with one-half of\nit at a time.\"\n\nShe did so. The boy continued his efforts, and succeeded in killing\nten birds, out of the skins of which his sister made him a little\ncoat.\n\n\"Sister,\" said he one day, \"are we all alone in the world? Is there\nnobody else living?\"\n\nHis sister told him that they two alone remained; that the beings who\nhad killed all their relations lived in a certain quarter, and that he\nmust by no means go in that direction. This only served to inflame his\ncuriosity and raise his ambition, and he soon after took his bow and\narrows and went to seek the beings of whom his sister had told him.\nAfter walking a long time and meeting nothing he became tired, and lay\ndown on a knoll where the sun had melted the snow. He fell fast\nasleep, and while sleeping the sun beat so hot upon him that it singed\nand drew up his birdskin coat, so that when he awoke and stretched\nhimself, he felt, as it were, bound in it. He looked down and saw the\ndamage done, and then he flew into a passion, upbraided the sun, and\nvowed vengeance against it.\n\n\"Do not think you are too high,\" said he; \"I shall revenge myself.\"\n\nOn coming home he related his disaster to his sister, and lamented\nbitterly the spoiling of his coat. He would not eat. He lay down as\none that fasts, and did not stir or move his position for ten days,\nthough his sister did all she could to arouse him. At the end of ten\ndays he turned over, and then lay ten days on the other side. Then he\ngot up and told his sister to make him a snare, for he meant to catch\nthe sun. At first she said she had nothing, but finally she remembered\na little piece of dried deer's sinew that her father had left, and\nthis she soon made into a string suitable for a noose. The moment,\nhowever, she showed it to her brother, he told her it would not do,\nand bade her get something else. She said she had nothing--nothing at\nall. At last she thought of her hair, and pulling some of it out made\na string. Her brother again said it would not answer, and bade her,\npettishly, and with authority, make him a noose. She replied that\nthere was nothing to make it of, and went out of the lodge. When she\nwas all alone she said--\n\n\"Neow obewy indapin.\"\n\nMeanwhile her brother awaited her, and it was not long before she\nreappeared with some tiny cord. The moment he saw it he was delighted.\n\n\"This will do,\" he cried, and he put the cord to his mouth and began\npulling it through his lips, and as fast as he drew it changed to a\nred metal cord of prodigious length, which he wound around his body\nand shoulders. He then prepared himself, and set out a little after\nmidnight that he might catch the sun before it rose. He fixed his\nsnare on a spot just where he thought the sun would appear; and sure\nenough he caught it, so that it was held fast in the cord and could\nnot rise.\n\nThe animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into a great\ncommotion. They had no light. They called a council to debate the\nmatter, and to appoint some one to go and cut the cord--a very\nhazardous enterprise, for who dare go so near to the sun as would be\nnecessary? The dormouse, however, undertook the task. At that time the\ndormouse was the largest animal in the world; when it stood up it\nlooked like a mountain. It set out upon its mission, and, when it got\nto the place where the sun lay snared, its back began to smoke and\nburn, so intense was the heat, and the top of its carcass was reduced\nto enormous heaps of ashes. It succeeded, however, in cutting the cord\nwith its teeth and freed the sun, but was reduced to a very small size,\nand has remained so ever since. Men call it the Kug-e-been-gwa-kwa.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAID IN THE BOX.\n\n\nThere once lived a woman called Monedo Kway (female spirit or\nprophetess) on the sand mountains, called The Sleeping Bear of Lake\nMichigan, who had a daughter as beautiful as she was modest and\ndiscreet. Everybody spoke of her beauty, and she was so handsome that\nher mother feared she would be carried off, so to prevent it she put\nher in a box, which she pushed into the middle of the lake. The box\nwas tied by a long string to a stake on shore, and every morning the\nmother pulled the box to land, and, taking her daughter out of it,\ncombed her hair, gave her food, and then putting her again in the box,\nset her afloat on the lake.\n\nOne day it chanced that a handsome young man came to the spot at the\nmoment the girl was being thus attended to by her mother. He was\nstruck with her beauty, and immediately went home and told his love to\nhis uncle, who was a great chief and a powerful magician.\n\n\"My nephew,\" replied the old man, \"go to the mother's lodge and sit\ndown in a modest manner without saying a word. You need not ask her a\nquestion, for whatever you think she will understand, and what she\nthinks in answer you will understand.\"\n\nThe young man did as he was bid. He entered the woman's lodge and sat\nwith his head bent down in a thoughtful manner, without uttering a\nword. He then thought--\n\n\"I wish she would give me her daughter.\" Very soon he understood the\nmother's thoughts in reply.\n\n\"Give you my daughter!\" thought she. \"You! no, indeed! my daughter\nshall never marry you!\"\n\nThe young man went away and reported the result to his uncle.\n\n\"Woman without good sense!\" exclaimed the old man. \"Who is she keeping\nher daughter for? Does she think she will marry the Mudjikewis (a term\nindicating the heir or successor to the first in power)? Proud heart!\nWe will try her magic skill, and see whether she can withstand our\npower.\"\n\nHe forthwith set himself to work, and in a short time the pride and\nhaughtiness of the mother was made known to all the spirits on that\npart of the lake, and they met together and resolved to exert their\npower to humble her. To do this they determined to raise a great storm\non the lake. The water began to roar and toss, and the tempest became\nso severe that the string holding the box broke, and it floated off\nthrough the straits down Lake Huron, and struck against the sandy\nshores at its outlet. The place where it struck was near the lodge of\na decayed old magician called Ishkwon Daimeka, or the keeper of the\ngate of the lakes. He opened the box and let out the beautiful\ndaughter, whom he took into his lodge and made his wife.\n\nWhen her mother found that her daughter had been carried off by the\nstorm, she raised loud cries and lamented exceedingly. This she\ncontinued to do for a long time, and would not be comforted. At last\nthe spirits began to pity her, and determined to raise another storm\nto bring the daughter back. This was even a greater storm than the\nfirst. The water of the lake washed away the ground, and swept on to\nthe lodge of Ishkwon Daimeka, whose wife, when she saw the flood\napproaching, leaped into the box, and the waves, carrying her off,\nlanded her at the very spot where was her mother's lodge.\n\nMonedo Kway was overjoyed, but when she opened the box she found her\ndaughter, indeed, but her beauty had almost all departed. However, she\nloved her still, because she was her daughter, and now thought of the\nyoung man who had come to seek her in marriage. She sent a formal\nmessage to him, but he had heard of all that had occurred, and his\nlove for the girl had died away.\n\n\"I marry your daughter!\" replied he. \"Your daughter! no, indeed! I\nshall never marry her!\"\n\nThe storm that brought the girl back was so strong that it tore away a\nlarge part of the shore of the lake and swept off Ishkwon Daimeka's\nlodge, the fragments of which, lodging in the straits, formed those\nbeautiful islands which are scattered in the St. Clair and Detroit\nrivers. As to Ishkwon Daimeka himself, he was drowned, and his bones\nlie buried under the islands. As he was carried away by the waves on a\nfragment of his lodge, the old man was heard lamenting his fate in a\nsong.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SPIRITS AND THE LOVERS.\n\n\nAt the distance of a woman's walk of a day from the mouth of the\nriver, called by the pale-faces the Whitestone, in the country of the\nSioux, in the middle of a large plain, stands a lofty hill or mound.\nIts wonderful roundness, together with the circumstance of its\nstanding apart from all other hills, like a fir-tree in the midst of a\nwide prairie, or a man whose friends and kindred have all descended to\nthe dust, has made it known to all the tribes of the West. Whether it\nwas created by the Great Spirit or filled up by the sons of men,\nwhether it was done in the morning of the world, ask not me, for I\ncannot tell you. Know it is called by all the tribes of the land the\nHill of Little People, or the Mountain of Little Spirits. No gifts can\ninduce an Indian to visit it; for why should he incur the anger of the\nLittle People who dwell in it, and, sacrificed upon the fire of their\nwrath, behold his wife and children no more? In all the marches and\ncounter-marches of the Indians, in all their goings and returnings, in\nall their wanderings by day or by night to and from lands which lie\nbeyond it, their paths are so ordered that none approaches near\nenough to disturb the tiny inhabitants of the hill. The memory of the\nred-man of the forest has preserved but one instance when their\nprivacy was violated, since it was known through the tribes that they\nwished for no intercourse with mortals. Before that time many Indians\nwere missing each year. No one knew what became of them, but they were\ngone, and left no trace nor story behind. Valiant warriors filled\ntheir quivers with arrows, put new strings to their bows, new shod\ntheir moccasins, and sallied out to acquire glory in combat; but there\nwas no wailing in the camp of our foes: their arrows were not felt,\ntheir shouts were not heard. Yet they fell not by the hands of our\nfoes, but perished we know not how.\n\nMany seasons ago there lived within the limits of the great\ncouncil-fire of the Mahas a chief who was renowned for his valour and\nvictories in the field, his wisdom in the council, his dexterity and\nsuccess in the chase. His name was Mahtoree, or the White Crane. He\nwas celebrated throughout the vast regions of the West, from the\nMississippi to the Hills of the Serpent, from the Missouri to the\nPlains of Bitter Frost, for all those qualities which render an Indian\nwarrior famous and feared.\n\nIn one of the war expeditions of the Pawnee Mahas against the\nBurntwood Tetons, it was the good fortune of the former to overcome\nand to make many prisoners--men, women, and children. One of the\ncaptives, Sakeajah, or the Bird-Girl, a beautiful creature in the\nmorning of life, after being adopted into one of the Mahas families,\nbecame the wife of the chief warrior of the nation. Great was the love\nwhich the White Crane had for his wife, and it grew yet stronger when\nshe had brought him four sons and a daughter, Tatokah, or the\nAntelope. She was beautiful. Her skin was fair, her eyes were large\nand bright as those of the bison-ox, and her hair black, and braided\nwith beads, brushed, as she walked, the dew from the flowers upon the\nprairies. Her temper was gentle and her voice sweet.\n\nIt may not be doubted that the beautiful Tatokah had many lovers; but\nthe heart of the maiden was touched by none of the noble youths who\nsought her. She bade them all depart as they came; she rejected them\nall. With the perverseness which is often seen among women, she had\nplaced her affections upon a youth who had distinguished himself by no\nvaliant deeds in war, nor by industry or dexterity in the chase. His\nname had never reached the surrounding nations. His own nation knew\nhim not, unless as a weak and imbecile man. He was poor in everything\nwhich constitutes the riches of Indian life. Who had heard the\ntwanging of Karkapaha's bow in the retreat of the bear, or who had\nbeheld the war-paint on his cheek or brow? Where were the scalps or\nthe prisoners that betokened his valour or daring? No song of valiant\nexploits had been heard from his lips, for he had none to boast of--if\nhe had done aught becoming a man, he had done it when none was by. The\nbeautiful Tatokah, who knew and lamented the deficiencies of her\nlover, strove long to conquer her passion without success. At length,\nsince her father would not agree to her union with her lover, the two\nagreed to fly together. The night fixed came, and they left the\nvillage of the Mahas and the lodge of Mahtoree for the wilderness.\n\nTheir flight was not unmarked, and when the father was made acquainted\nwith the disgrace which had befallen him, he called his young men\naround him, and bade them pursue the fugitives, promising his daughter\nto whomsoever should slay the Karkapaha. Immediately pursuit was made,\nand soon a hundred eager youths were on the track of the hapless pair.\nWith that unerring skill and sagacity in discovering footprints which\nmark their race, their steps were tracked, and themselves soon\ndiscovered flying. What was the surprise of the pursuers when they\nfound that the path taken by the hapless pair would carry them to the\nmountain of little spirits, and that they were sufficiently in advance\nto reach it before they could be overtaken. None of them durst venture\nwithin the supposed limits, and they halted till the White Crane\nshould be informed of his daughter and her lover having placed\nthemselves under the protection of the spirits.\n\nIn the meantime the lovers pursued their journey towards the fearful\nresidence of the little people. Despair lent them courage to perform\nan act to which the stoutest Indian resolution had hitherto been\nunequal. They determined to tell their tale to the spirits and ask\ntheir protection. They were within a few feet of the hill when, on a\nsudden, its brow, on which no object had till now been visible, became\ncovered with little people, the tallest of whom was not higher than\nthe knee of the maiden, while many of them--but these were\nchildren--were of lower stature than the squirrel. Their voice was\nsharp and quick, like the barking of the prairie dog. A little wing\ncame out at each shoulder; each had a single eye, which eye was to the\nright in the men, and to the left in the women, and their feet stood\nout at each side. They were armed like Indians, with tomahawks, spears,\nbows, and arrows. He who appeared to be the head chief--for he wore an\nair of command, and had the eagle feather--came up to the fugitives and\nsaid--\n\n\"Why have you invaded the village of our race whose wrath has been so\nfatal to your people? How dare you venture within the limits of our\nresidence? Know you not that your lives are forfeited?\"\n\nTatokah, for her lover had less than the heart of a doe and was\nspeechless, related their story. She told them how they had loved, how\nwroth her father had been, how they had stolen away and been pursued,\nand concluded her tale of sorrow with a flood of tears. The little man\nwho wore the eagle feather appeared moved by what she said, and\ncalling around him a large number of men, who were doubtless the\nchiefs and counsellors of the nation, a long consultation took place.\nThe result was a determination to favour and protect the lovers.\n\nAt this moment Shongotongo, or the Big Horse, one of the braves whom\nMahtoree had despatched in quest of his daughter, appeared in view in\npursuit of the fugitives. It was not till Mahtoree had taxed his\ncourage that Big Horse had ventured on the perilous quest. He\napproached with the strength of heart and singleness of purpose which\naccompany an Indian warrior who deems the eyes of his nation upon him.\nWhen first the brave was discovered thus wantonly, and with no other\npurpose but the shedding of blood, intruding on the dominions of the\nspirits, no words can tell the rage which appeared to possess their\nbosoms. Secure in the knowledge of their power to repel the attacks of\nevery living thing, the intrepid Maha was permitted to advance within\na few steps of Karkapaha. He had just raised his spear to strike the\nunmanly lover, when, all at once, he found himself riveted to the\nground. His feet refused to move, his hands hung powerless at his\nside, his tongue refused to utter a word. The bow and arrow fell from\nhis hand, and his spear lay powerless. A little child, not so high as\nthe fourth leaf of the thistle, came and spat on him, and a company of\nthe spirits danced around him singing a taunting song. When they had\nthus finished their task of preparatory torture, a thousand little\nspirits drew their bows, and a thousand arrows pierced his heart. In a\nmoment innumerable mattocks were employed in preparing him a grave,\nand he was hidden from the eyes of the living ere Tatokah could have\nthrice counted over the fingers of her hand.\n\nWhen this was done, the chief of the little spirits called Karkapaha\nbefore him, and said--\n\n\"Maha, you have the heart of a doe. You would fly from a roused wren.\nWe have not spared you because you deserve to be spared, but because\nthe maiden loves you. It is for this purpose that we will give you the\nheart of a man, that you may return to the village of the Mahas, and\nfind favour in the eyes of Mahtoree and the braves of the nation. We\nwill take away your cowardly spirit, and will give you the spirit of\nthe warrior whom we slew, whose heart was firm as a rock. Sleep, man\nof little soul, and wake to be better worthy the love of the beautiful\nAntelope.\"\n\nThen a deep sleep came over the Maha lover. How long he slept he knew\nnot, but when he woke he felt at once that a change had taken place in\nhis feelings and temper. The first thought that came to his mind was\nof a bow and arrow, the second was of the beautiful maiden who lay\nsleeping at his side. The little spirits had disappeared--not a\nsolitary being of the many thousands who, but a few minutes before,\nhad filled the air with their discordant cries was now to be seen or\nheard. At the feet of Karkapaha lay a tremendous bow, larger than any\nwarrior ever yet used, a sheaf of arrows of proportionate size, and a\nspear of a weight which no Maha could wield. Karkapaha drew the bow as\nan Indian boy bends a willow twig, and the spear seemed in his hand\nbut a reed or a feather. The shrill war-whoop burst unconsciously from\nhis lips, and his nostrils seemed dilated with the fire and impatience\nof a newly-awakened courage. The heart of the fond Indian girl\ndissolved in tears when she saw these proofs of strength and these\nevidences of spirit which, she knew, if they were coupled with\nvalour--and how could she doubt the completeness of the gift to effect\nthe purposes of the giver?--would thaw the iced feelings of her father\nand tune his heart to the song of forgiveness. Yet it was not without\nmany fears, tears, and misgivings on the part of the maiden that they\nbegan their journey to the Mahas village. The lover, now a stranger to\nfear, used his endeavours to quiet the beautiful Tatokah, and in some\nmeasure succeeded. Upon finding that his daughter and her lover had\ngone to the Hill of the Spirits, and that Shongotongo did not return\nfrom his perilous adventure, the chief of the Mahas had recalled his\nbraves from the pursuit, and was listening to the history of the pair,\nas far as the returned warriors were acquainted with it, when his\ndaughter and her lover made their appearance. With a bold and fearless\nstep the once faint-hearted Karkapaha walked up to the offended\nfather, and, folding his arms upon his breast, stood erect as a pine,\nand motionless as that tree when the winds of the earth are chained.\nIt was the first time that Karkapaha had ever looked on angry men\nwithout trembling, and a demeanour so unusual in him excited universal\nsurprise.\n\n\"Karkapaha is a thief,\" said the White Crane.\n\n\"It is the father of Tatokah that says it,\" answered the lover, \"else\nwould Karkapaha say it was the song of a bird that has flown over.\"\n\n\"My warriors say it.\"\n\n\"Your warriors are singing-birds; they are wrens. Karkapaha says they\ndo not speak the truth. Karkapaha has a brave heart and the strength\nof a bear. Let the braves try him. He has thrown away the woman's\nheart, and become a man.\"\n\n\"Karkapaha is changed,\" said the chief thoughtfully, \"but how and\nwhen?\"\n\n\"The Little Spirits of the mountain have given him a new soul. Bid\nyour braves draw this bow. Bid them poise this spear. Their eyes say\nthey can do neither. Then is Karkapaha the strong man of his tribe?\"\nAs he said this he flourished the ponderous spear over his head as a\nman would poise a reed, and drew the bow as a child would bend a twig.\n\n\"Karkapaha is the husband of Tatokah,\" said Mahtoree, springing to his\nfeet, and he gave the maiden to her lover.\n\nThe traditionary lore of the Mahas is full of the exploits, both in\nwar and in the chase, of Karkapaha, who was made a man by the Spirits\nof the Mountain.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL ROD.\n\n\nThe Choctaws had for many years found a home in regions beyond the\nMountains of Snow, far away to the west of the Mississippi. They,\nhowever, decided, for some reason or other, to leave the place in\nwhich they dwelt, and the question then arose in what direction they\nshould journey. Now, there was a jossakeed (priest) who had a\nwonderful rod, and he said that he would lead them.\n\nFor many years, therefore, they travelled, being guided by him. He\nwalked before them bearing the rod, and when night was come he put it\nupright in the earth, and the people encamped round it. In the morning\nthey looked to see in what direction the rod pointed, for each night\nthe rod left its upright position, and inclined one way or another.\nDay after day the rod was found pointing to the east, and thither the\nChoctaws accordingly bent their steps.\n\n\"You must travel,\" said the jossakeed, \"as long as the rod directs you\npointing to the direction in which you must go, but when the rod\nceases to point, and stands upright, then you must live there.\"\n\nSo the people went on until they came to a hill, where they camped,\nhaving first put up the rod so that it did not lean at all. In the\nmorning, when they went to see which direction the rod pointed out for\nthem to take, they found it upright, and from it there grew branches\nbearing green leaves. Then they said--\n\n\"We will stop here.\"\n\nSo that became the centre of the land of the Choctaws.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FUNERAL FIRE.\n\n\nFor several nights after the interment of a Chippewa a fire is kept\nburning upon the grave. This fire is lit in the evening, and carefully\nsupplied with small sticks of dry wood, to keep up a bright but small\nfire. It is kept burning for several hours, generally until the usual\nhour of retiring to rest, and then suffered to go out. The fire is\nrenewed for four nights, and sometimes for longer. The person who\nperforms this pious office is generally a near relative of the\ndeceased, or one who has been long intimate with him. The following\ntale is related as showing the origin of the custom.\n\nA small war party of Chippewas encountered their enemies upon an open\nplain, where a severe battle was fought. Their leader was a brave and\ndistinguished warrior, but he never acted with greater bravery, or\nmore distinguished himself by personal prowess, than on this occasion.\nAfter turning the tide of battle against his enemies, while shouting\nfor victory, he received an arrow in his breast, and fell upon the\nplain. No warrior thus killed is ever buried, and according to\nancient custom, the chief was placed in a sitting posture upon the\nfield, his back supported by a tree, and his face turned towards the\ndirection in which his enemies had fled. His headdress and equipment\nwere accurately adjusted as if he were living, and his bow leaned\nagainst his shoulder. In this posture his companions left him. That he\nwas dead appeared evident to all, but a strange thing had happened.\nAlthough deprived of speech and motion, the chief heard distinctly all\nthat was said by his friends. He heard them lament his death without\nhaving the power to contradict it, and he felt their touch as they\nadjusted his posture, without having the power to reciprocate it. His\nanguish, when he felt himself thus abandoned, was extreme, and his\nwish to follow his friends on their return home so completely filled\nhis mind, as he saw them one after another take leave of him and\ndepart, that with a terrible effort he arose and followed them. His\nform, however, was invisible to them, and this aroused in him\nsurprise, disappointment, and rage, which by turns took possession of\nhim. He followed their track, however, with great diligence. Wherever\nthey went he went, when they walked he walked, when they ran he ran,\nwhen they encamped he stopped with them, when they slept he slept,\nwhen they awoke he awoke. In short, he mingled in all their labours\nand toils, but he was excluded from all their sources of refreshment,\nexcept that of sleeping, and from the pleasures of participating in\ntheir conversation, for all that he said received no notice.\n\n\"Is it possible,\" he cried, \"that you do not see me, that you do not\nhear me, that you do not understand me? Will you suffer me to bleed to\ndeath without offering to stanch my wounds? Will you permit me to\nstarve while you eat around me? Have those whom I have so often led to\nwar so soon forgotten me? Is there no one who recollects me, or who\nwill offer me a morsel of food in my distress?\"\n\nThus he continued to upbraid his friends at every stage of the\njourney, but no one seemed to hear his words. If his voice was heard\nat all, it was mistaken for the rustling of the leaves in the wind.\n\nAt length the returning party reached their village, and their women\nand children came out, according to custom, to welcome their return\nand proclaim their praises.\n\n\"Kumaudjeewug! Kumaudjeewug! Kumaudjeewug! they have met, fought, and\nconquered!\" was shouted by every mouth, and the words resounded\nthrough the most distant parts of the village. Those who had lost\nfriends came eagerly to inquire their fate, and to know whether they\nhad died like men. The aged father consoled himself for the loss of\nhis son with the reflection that he had fallen manfully, and the widow\nhalf forgot her sorrow amid the praises that were uttered of the\nbravery of her husband. The hearts of the youths glowed with martial\nardour as they heard these flattering praises, and the children joined\nin the shouts, of which they scarcely knew the meaning. Amidst all\nthis uproar and bustle no one seemed conscious of the presence of the\nwarrior-chief. He heard many inquiries made respecting his fate. He\nheard his companions tell how he had fought, conquered, and fallen,\npierced by an arrow through his breast, and how he had been left\nbehind among the slain on the field of battle.\n\n\"It is not true,\" declared the angry chief, \"that I was killed and\nleft upon the field! I am here. I live; I move; see me; touch me. I\nshall again raise my spear in battle, and take my place in the feast.\"\n\nNobody, however, seemed conscious of his presence, and his voice was\nmistaken for the whispering of the wind.\n\nHe now walked to his own lodge, and there he found his wife tearing\nher hair and lamenting over his fate. He endeavoured to undeceive her,\nbut she, like the others, appeared to be insensible of his presence,\nand not to hear his voice. She sat in a despairing manner, with her\nhead reclining on her hands. The chief asked her to bind up his\nwounds, but she made no reply. He placed his mouth close to her ear\nand shouted--\n\n\"I am hungry, give me some food!\"\n\nThe wife thought she heard a buzzing in her ear, and remarked it to\none who sat by. The enraged husband now summoning all his strength,\nstruck her a blow on the forehead. His wife raised her hand to her\nhead, and said to her friend--\n\n\"I feel a slight shooting pain in my head.\"\n\nFoiled thus in every attempt to make himself known, the warrior-chief\nbegan to reflect upon what he had heard in his youth, to the effect\nthat the spirit was sometimes permitted to leave the body and wander\nabout. He concluded that possibly his body might have remained upon\nthe field of battle, while his spirit only accompanied his returning\nfriends. He determined to return to the field, although it was four\ndays' journey away. He accordingly set out upon his way. For three\ndays he pursued his way without meeting anything uncommon; but on the\nfourth, towards evening, as he came to the skirts of the battlefield,\nhe saw a fire in the path before him. He walked to one side to avoid\nstepping into it, but the fire also changed its position, and was\nstill before him. He then went in another direction, but the\nmysterious fire still crossed his path, and seemed to bar his entrance\nto the scene of the conflict. In short, whichever way he took, the\nfire was still before him,--no expedient seemed to avail him.\n\n\"Thou demon!\" he exclaimed at length, \"why dost thou bar my approach\nto the field of battle? Knowest thou not that I am a spirit also, and\nthat I seek again to enter my body? Dost thou presume that I shall\nreturn without effecting my object? Know that I have never been\ndefeated by the enemies of my nation, and will not be defeated by\nthee!\"\n\nSo saying, he made a sudden effort and jumped through the flame. No\nsooner had he done so than he found himself sitting on the ground,\nwith his back supported by a tree, his bow leaning against his\nshoulder, all his warlike dress and arms upon his body, just as they\nhad been left by his friends on the day of battle. Looking up he\nbeheld a large canicu, or war eagle, sitting in the tree above his\nhead. He immediately recognised this bird to be the same as he had\nonce dreamt of in his youth--the one he had chosen as his guardian\nspirit, or personal manito. This eagle had carefully watched his body\nand prevented other ravenous birds from touching it.\n\nThe chief got up and stood upon his feet, but he felt himself weak and\nmuch exhausted. The blood upon his wound had stanched itself, and he\nnow bound it up. He possessed a knowledge of such roots as have\nhealing properties, and these he carefully sought in the woods. Having\nfound some, he pounded some of them between stones and applied them\nexternally. Others he chewed and swallowed. In a short time he found\nhimself so much recovered as to be able to commence his journey, but\nhe suffered greatly from hunger, not seeing any large animals that he\nmight kill. However, he succeeded in killing some small birds with his\nbow and arrow, and these he roasted before a fire at night.\n\nIn this way he sustained himself until he came to a river that\nseparated his wife and friends from him. He stood upon the bank and\ngave that peculiar whoop which is a signal of the return of a friend.\nThe sound was immediately heard, and a canoe was despatched to bring\nhim over, and in a short time, amidst the shouts of his friends and\nrelations, who thronged from every side to see the arrival, the\nwarrior-chief was landed.\n\nWhen the first wild bursts of wonder and joy had subsided, and some\ndegree of quiet had been restored to the village, he related to his\npeople the account of his adventures. He concluded his narrative by\ntelling them that it is pleasing to the spirit of a deceased person to\nhave a fire built upon the grave for four nights after his burial;\nthat it is four days' journey to the land appointed for the residence\nof the spirits; that in its journey thither the spirit stands in need\nof a fire every night at the place of its encampment; and that if the\nfriends kindle this fire upon the spot where the body is laid, the\nspirit has the benefit of its light and warmth on its path, while if\nthe friends neglect to do this, the spirit is subjected to the irksome\ntask of making its own fire each night.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF O-NA-WUT-A-QUT-O.\n\n\nA long time ago there lived an aged Odjibwa and his wife on the shores\nof Lake Huron. They had an only son, a very beautiful boy, named\nO-na-wut-a-qut-o, or He that catches the clouds. The family were of\nthe totem of the beaver. The parents were very proud of their son, and\nwished to make him a celebrated man; but when he reached the proper\nage he would not submit to the We-koon-de-win, or fast. When this time\narrived they gave him charcoal instead of his breakfast, but he would\nnot blacken his face. If they denied him food he sought bird's eggs\nalong the shore, or picked up the heads of fish that had been cast\naway, and broiled them. One day they took away violently the food he\nhad prepared, and cast him some coals in place of it. This act decided\nhim. He took the coals and blackened his face and went out of the\nlodge. He did not return, but lay down without to sleep. As he lay, a\nvery beautiful girl came down from the clouds and stood by his side.\n\n\"O-na-wut-a-qut-o,\" she said, \"I am come for you. Follow in my\nfootsteps.\"\n\nThe young man rose and did as he was bid. Presently he found himself\nascending above the tops of the trees, and gradually he mounted up\nstep by step into the air, and through the clouds. At length his guide\nled him through an opening, and he found himself standing with her on\na beautiful plain.\n\nA path led to a splendid lodge, into which O-na-wut-a-qut-o followed\nhis guide. It was large, and divided into two parts. At one end he saw\nbows and arrows, clubs and spears, and various warlike instruments\ntipped with silver. At the other end were things exclusively belonging\nto women. This was the house of his fair guide, and he saw that she\nhad on a frame a broad rich belt of many colours that she was weaving.\n\n\"My brother is coming,\" she said, \"and I must hide you.\"\n\nPutting him in one corner she spread the belt over him, and presently\nthe brother came in very richly dressed, and shining as if he had\npoints of silver all over him. He took down from the wall a splendid\npipe, and a bag in which was a-pa-ko-ze-gun, or smoking mixture. When\nhe had finished smoking, he laid his pipe aside, and said to his\nsister--\n\n\"Nemissa,\" (elder sister) \"when will you quit these practices? Do you\nforget that the greatest of the spirits has commanded that you shall\nnot take away the children from below? Perhaps you think you have\nconcealed O-na-wut-a-qut-o, but do I not know of his coming? If you\nwould not offend me, send him back at once.\"\n\nThese words did not, however, alter his sister's purpose. She would\nnot send him back, and her brother, finding that she was determined,\ncalled O-na-wut-a-qut-o from his hiding-place.\n\n\"Come out of your concealment,\" said he, \"and walk about and amuse\nyourself. You will grow hungry if you remain there.\"\n\nAt these words O-na-wut-a-qut-o came forth from under the belt, and\nthe brother presented a bow and arrows, with a pipe of red stone,\nrichly ornamented, to him. In this way he gave his consent to\nO-na-wut-a-qut-o's marriage with his sister, and from that time the\nyouth and the girl became husband and wife.\n\nO-na-wut-a-qut-o found everything exceedingly fair and beautiful\naround him, but he found no other people besides his wife and her\nbrother. There were flowers on the plains, there were bright and\nsparkling streams, there were green valleys and pleasant trees, there\nwere gay birds and beautiful animals, very different from those he had\nbeen accustomed to. There was also day and night as on the earth, but\nhe observed that every morning the brother regularly left the lodge\nand remained absent all day, and every evening his sister departed,\nbut generally for only a part of the night.\n\nO-na-wut-a-qut-o was curious to solve this mystery, and obtained the\nbrother's consent to accompany him in one of his daily journeys. They\ntravelled over a smooth plain which seemed to stretch to illimitable\ndistances all around. At length O-na-wut-a-qut-o felt the gnawings of\nhunger and asked his companion if there was no game about.\n\n\"Patience, my brother,\" replied he; \"we shall soon reach the spot\nwhere I eat my dinner, and you will then see how I am provided.\"\n\nAfter walking on a long time they came to a place where several fine\nmats were spread, and there they sat down to refresh themselves. At\nthis place there was a hole in the sky and O-na-wut-a-qut-o, at his\ncompanion's request, looked through it down upon the earth. He saw\nbelow the great lakes and the villages of the Indians. In one place he\nsaw a war-party stealing on the camp of their enemies. In another he\nsaw feasting and dancing. On a green plain some young men were playing\nat ball, and along the banks of a stream were women employed in\ngathering the a-puk-wa for mats.\n\n\"Do you see,\" asked the brother, \"that group of children playing\nbeside a lodge? Observe that beautiful and active lad,\" said he, at\nthe same time darting something from his hand. The child immediately\nfell on the ground, and was carried by his companions into the lodge.\n\nO-na-wut-a-qut-o and his companion watched and saw the people below\ngathering about the lodge. They listened to the she-she-gwau of the\nmeeta, to the song he sang asking that the child's life might be\nspared. To this request O-na-wut-a-qut-o's companion made answer--\n\n\"Send me up the sacrifice of a white dog.\"\n\nA feast was immediately ordered by the parents of the child. The\nwhite dog was killed, his carcass was roasted, all the wise men and\nmedicine-men of the village assembling to witness the ceremony.\n\n\"There are many below,\" said O-na-wut-a-qut-o's companion, \"whom you\ncall great in medical skill. They are so, because their ears are open;\nand they are able to succeed, because when I call they hear my voice.\nWhen I have struck one with sickness they direct the people to look to\nme, and when they make me the offering I ask, I remove my hand from\noff the sick person and he becomes well.\"\n\nWhile he was saying this, the feast below had been served. Then the\nmaster of the feast said--\n\n\"We send this to thee, Great Manito,\" and immediately the roasted\nanimal came up. Thus O-na-wut-a-qut-o and his companion got their\ndinner, and after they had eaten they returned to the lodge by a\ndifferent path.\n\nIn this manner they lived for some time, but at last the youth got\nweary of the life. He thought of his friends, and wished to go back to\nthem. He could not forget his native village and his father's lodge,\nand he asked his wife's permission to return. After some persuasion\nshe consented.\n\n\"Since you are better pleased,\" she said, \"with the cares and ills and\npoverty of the world, than with the peaceful delights of the sky and\nits boundless prairies, go. I give you my permission, and since I have\nbrought you hither I will conduct you back. Remember, however, that\nyou are still my husband. I hold a chain in my hand by which I can,\nwhenever I will, draw you back to me. My power over you will be in no\nway diminished. Beware, therefore, how you venture to take a wife\namong the people below. Should you ever do so, you will feel what a\ngrievous thing it is to arouse my anger.\"\n\nAs she uttered these words her eyes sparkled, and she drew herself up\nwith a majestic air. In the same moment O-na-wut-a-qut-o awoke. He\nfound himself on the ground near his father's lodge, on the very spot\nwhere he had thrown himself down to sleep. Instead of the brighter\nbeings of a higher world, he found around him his parents and their\nfriends. His mother told him that he had been absent a year. For some\ntime O-na-wut-a-qut-o remained gloomy and silent, but by degrees he\nrecovered his spirits, and he began to doubt the reality of all he had\nseen and heard above. At last he even ventured to marry a beautiful\ngirl of his own tribe. But within four days she died. Still he was\nforgetful of his first wife's command, and he married again. Then one\nnight he left his lodge, to which he never returned. His wife, it is\nbelieved, recalled him to the sky, where he still dwells, walking the\nvast plains.\n\n\n\n\nMANABOZHO IN THE FISH'S STOMACH.\n\n\nOne day Manabozho said to his grandmother--\n\n\"Noko, get cedar bark and make me a line whilst I make a canoe.\"\n\nWhen all was ready he went out to the middle of the lake a-fishing.\n\n\"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai (king-fish),\" said he, letting down his line,\n\"take hold of my bait.\"\n\nHe kept repeating these words some time; at last the king-fish said--\n\n\"What a trouble Manabozho is! Here, trout, take hold of his line.\"\n\nThe trout did as he was bid, and Manabozho drew up his line, the\ntrout's weight being so great that the canoe was nearly overturned.\nTill he saw the trout Manabozho kept crying out--\n\n\"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\"\n\nAs soon as he saw him he said--\n\n\"Why did you take hold of my hook? Esa, esa! shame, shame! you ugly\nfish.\"\n\nThe trout, being thus rebuked, let go.\n\nManabozho let down his line again into the water, saying--\n\n\"King-fish, take hold of my line.\"\n\n\"What a trouble Manabozho is!\" cried the king-fish. \"Sun-fish, take\nhold of his line.\"\n\nThe sun-fish did as he was bid, and Manabozho drew him up, crying as\nhe did so--\n\n\"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!\" while the canoe turned in swift circles.\n\nWhen he saw the sun-fish, he cried--\n\n\"Esa, esa! you odious fish! why did you dirty my hook by taking it in\nyour mouth? Let go, I say, let go.\"\n\nThe sun-fish did as he was bid, and on his return to the bottom of the\nlake told the king-fish what Manabozho had said. Just then the bait\nwas let down again near to the king, and Manabozho was heard crying\nout--\n\n\"Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my hook.\"\n\nThe king-fish did so, and allowed himself to be dragged to the\nsurface, which he had no sooner reached than he swallowed Manabozho\nand his canoe at one gulp. When Manabozho came to himself he found he\nwas in his canoe in the fish's stomach. He now began to think how he\nshould escape. Looking about him, he saw his war-club in his canoe,\nand with it he immediately struck the heart of the fish. Then he felt\nas though the fish was moving with great velocity. The king-fish\nobserved to his friends--\n\n\"I feel very unwell for having swallowed that nasty fellow Manabozho.\"\n\nAt that moment he received another more severe blow on the heart.\nManabozho thought, \"If I am thrown up in the middle of the lake I\nshall be drowned, so I must prevent it.\" So he drew his canoe and\nplaced it across the fish's throat, and just as he had finished doing\nthis the king-fish tried to cast him out.\n\nManabozho now found that he had a companion with him. This was a\nsquirrel that had been in his canoe. The squirrel helped him to place\nthe canoe in the proper position, and Manabozho, being grateful to it,\nsaid--\n\n\"For the future you shall be called Ajidanneo (animal tail).\"\n\nThen he recommenced his attack on the king-fish's heart, and by\nrepeated blows he at last succeeded in killing him. He could tell that\nhe had effected this by the stoppage of the fish's motion, and he\ncould also hear the body beating against the shore. Manabozho waited a\nday to see what would happen. Then he heard birds scratching on the\nbody, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He could now see the\nheads of the gulls, which were looking in at the opening they had\nmade.\n\n\"Oh!\" cried Manabozho, \"my younger brothers, make the opening larger,\nso that I can get out.\" The gulls then told one another that Manabozho\nwas inside the fish, and, setting to work at once to enlarge the hole,\nthey, in a short time, set him free. After he got out Manabozho said\nto the gulls--\n\n\"For the future you shall be called Kayoshk (noble scratchers), for\nyour kindness to me.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SUN AND THE MOON.\n\n\nThere were once ten brothers who hunted together, and at night they\noccupied the same lodge. One day, after they had been hunting, coming\nhome they found sitting inside the lodge near the door a beautiful\nwoman. She appeared to be a stranger, and was so lovely that all the\nhunters loved her, and as she could only be the wife of one, they\nagreed that he should have her who was most successful in the next\nday's hunt. Accordingly, the next day, they each took different ways,\nand hunted till the sun went down, when they met at the lodge. Nine of\nthe hunters had found nothing, but the youngest brought home a deer,\nso the woman was given to him for his wife.\n\nThe hunter had not been married more than a year when he was seized\nwith sickness and died. Then the next brother took the girl for his\nwife. Shortly after he died also, and the woman married the next\nbrother. In a short time all the brothers died save the eldest, and he\nmarried the girl. She did not, however, love him, for he was of a\nchurlish disposition, and one day it came into the woman's head that\nshe would leave him and see what fortune she would meet with in the\nworld. So she went, taking only a dog with her, and travelled all day.\nShe went on and on, but towards evening she heard some one coming\nafter her who, she imagined, must be her husband. In great fear she\nknew not which way to turn, when she perceived a hole in the ground\nbefore her. There she thought she might hide herself, and entering it\nwith her dog she suddenly found herself going lower and lower, until\nshe passed through the earth and came up on the other side. Near to\nher there was a lake, and a man fishing in it.\n\n\"My grandfather,\" cried the woman, \"I am pursued by a spirit.\"\n\n\"Leave me,\" cried Manabozho, for it was he, \"leave me. Let me be\nquiet.\"\n\nThe woman still begged him to protect her, and Manabozho at length\nsaid--\n\n\"Go that way, and you shall be safe.\"\n\nHardly had she disappeared when the husband, who had discovered the\nhole by which his wife had descended, came on the scene.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said he to Manabozho, \"where has the woman gone?\"\n\n\"Leave me,\" cried Manabozho, \"don't trouble me.\"\n\n\"Tell me,\" said the man, \"where is the woman?\" Manabozho was silent,\nand the husband, at last getting angry, abused him with all his might.\n\n\"The woman went that way,\" said Manabozho at last. \"Run after her, but\nyou shall never catch her, and you shall be called Gizhigooke (day\nsun), and the woman shall be called Tibikgizis (night sun).\"\n\nSo the man went on running after his wife to the west, but he has\nnever caught her, and he pursues her to this day.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SNAIL AND THE BEAVER.\n\n\nThe father of the Osage nation was a snail. It was when the earth was\nyoung and little. It was before the rivers had become wide or long, or\nthe mountains lifted their peaks above the clouds, that the snail\nfound himself passing a quiet existence on the banks of the River\nMissouri. His wants and wishes were but few, and well supplied, and he\nwas happy.\n\nAt length the region of the Missouri was visited by one of those great\nstorms which so often scatter desolation over it, and the river,\nswollen by the melted snow and ice from the mountains, swept away\neverything from its banks, and among other things the drowsy snail.\nUpon a log he drifted down many a day's journey, till the river,\nsubsiding, left him and his log upon the banks of the River of Fish.\nHe was left in the slime, and the hot sun beamed fiercely upon him\ntill he became baked to the earth and found himself incapable of\nmoving. Gradually he grew in size and stature, and his form\nexperienced a new change, till at length what was once a snail\ncreeping on the earth ripened into man, erect, tall, and stately. For\na long time after his change to a human being he remained stupefied,\nnot knowing what he was or by what means to sustain life. At length\nrecollection returned to him. He remembered that he was once a snail\nand dwelt upon another river. He became animated with a wish to return\nto his old haunts, and accordingly directed his steps towards those\nparts from which he had been removed. Hunger now began to prey upon\nhim, and bade fair to close his eyes before he should again behold his\nbeloved haunts on the banks of the river. The beasts of the forest\nwere many, but their speed outstripped his. The birds of the air\nfluttered upon sprays beyond his reach, and the fish gliding through\nthe waves at his feet were nimbler than he and eluded his grasp. Each\nmoment he grew weaker, the films gathered before his eyes, and in his\nears there rang sounds like the whistling of winds through the woods\nin the month before the snows. At length, wearied and exhausted, he\nlaid himself down upon a grassy bank.\n\nAs he lay the Great Spirit appeared to him and asked--\n\n\"Why does he who is the kernel of the snail look terrified, and why is\nhe faint and weary?\"\n\n\"That I tremble,\" answered he, \"is because I fear thy power. That I\nfaint is because I lack food.\"\n\n\"As regards thy trembling,\" answered the Great Spirit, \"be composed.\nArt thou hungry?\"\n\n\"I have eaten nothing,\" replied the man, \"since I ceased to be a\nsnail.\"\n\nUpon hearing this the Great Spirit drew from under his robe a bow and\narrow, and bade the man observe what he did with it. On the topmost\nbough of a lofty tree sat a beautiful bird, singing and fluttering\namong the red leaves. He placed an arrow on the bow, and, letting fly,\nthe bird fell down upon the earth. A deer was seen afar off browsing.\nAgain the archer bent his bow and the animal lay dead, food for the\nson of the snail.\n\n\"There are victuals for you,\" said the Spirit, \"enough to last you\ntill your strength enables you to beat up the haunts of the deer and\nthe moose, and here is the bow and arrow.\"\n\nThe Great Spirit also taught the man how to skin the deer, and clothed\nhim with the skin. Having done this, and having given the beasts,\nfishes, and all feathered creatures to him for his food and raiment,\nhe bade the man farewell and took his departure.\n\nStrengthened and invigorated, the man pursued his journey towards the\nold spot. He soon stood upon the banks of his beloved river. A few\nmore suns and he would sit down upon the very spot where for so many\nseasons he had crawled on the slimy leaf, so often dragged himself\nlazily over the muddy pool. He had seated himself upon the bank of the\nriver, and was meditating deeply on these things, when up crept from\nthe water a beaver, who, addressing him, said in an angry tone--\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am a snail,\" replied the Snail-Man. \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am head warrior of the nation of beavers,\" answered the other. \"By\nwhat authority have you come to disturb my possession of this river,\nwhich is my dominion?\"\n\n\"It is not your river,\" replied the Wasbasha. \"The Great Being, who is\nover man and beast, has given it to me.\"\n\nThe beaver was at first incredulous; but at length, convinced that\nwhat the man said was true, he invited him to accompany him to his\nhome. The man agreed, and went with him till they came to a number of\nsmall cabins, into the largest of which the beaver conducted him. He\ninvited the man to take food with him, and while the beaver's wife and\ndaughter were preparing the feast, he entertained his guest with an\naccount of his people's habits of life. Soon the wife and daughter\nmade their appearance with the food, and sitting down the Snail-Man\nwas soon at his ease amongst them. He was not, however, so occupied\nwith the banquet that he had not time to be enchanted with the beauty\nof the beaver's daughter; and when the visit was drawing to a close,\nso much was he in love, that he asked the beaver to give her to him\nfor his wife. The beaver-chief consented, and the marriage was\ncelebrated by a feast, to which all the beavers, and the animals with\nwhom they had friendly relations, were invited. From this union of the\nSnail-Man and the Beaver-Maid sprang the tribe of the Osages,--at\nleast so it is related by the old men of the tribe.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STRANGE GUESTS.\n\n\nMany years ago there lived, near the borders of Lake Superior, a noted\nhunter, who had a wife and one child. His lodge stood in a remote part\nof the forest, several days' journey from that of any other person. He\nspent his days in hunting, and his evenings in relating to his wife\nthe incidents that had befallen him in the chase. As game was very\nabundant, he seldom failed to bring home in the evening an ample store\nof meat to last them until the succeeding evening; and while they were\nseated by the fire in his lodge partaking the fruits of his day's\nlabour, he entertained his wife with conversation, or by occasionally\nrelating those tales, or enforcing those precepts, which every good\nIndian esteems necessary for the instruction of his wife and children.\nThus, far removed from all sources of disquiet, surrounded by all they\ndeemed necessary to their comfort, and happy in one another's society,\ntheir lives passed away in cheerful solitude and sweet contentment.\nThe breast of the hunter had never felt the compunctions of remorse,\nfor he was a just man in all his dealings. He had never violated the\nlaws of his tribe by encroaching upon the hunting-grounds of his\nneighbours, by taking that which did not belong to him, or by any act\ncalculated to displease the village chiefs or offend the Great Spirit.\nHis chief ambition was to support his family with a sufficiency of\nfood and skins by his own unaided exertions, and to share their\nhappiness around his cheerful fire at night. The white man had not yet\ntaught them that blankets and clothes were necessary to their comfort,\nor that guns could be used in the killing of game.\n\nThe life of the Chippewa hunter peacefully glided away.\n\nOne evening during the winter season, it chanced that he remained out\nlater than usual, and his wife sat lonely in the lodge, and began to\nbe agitated with fears lest some accident had befallen him. Darkness\nhad already fallen. She listened attentively to hear the sound of\ncoming footsteps; but nothing could be heard but the wind mournfully\nwhistling around the sides of the lodge. Time passed away while she\nremained in this state of suspense, every moment augmenting her fears\nand adding to her disappointment.\n\nSuddenly she heard the sound of approaching footsteps upon the frozen\nsurface of the snow. Not doubting that it was her husband, she quickly\nunfastened the loop which held, by an inner fastening, the skin door\nof the lodge, and throwing it open she saw two strange women standing\nbefore it. Courtesy left the hunter's wife no time for deliberation.\nShe invited the strangers to enter and warm themselves, thinking, from\nthe distance to the nearest neighbours, they must have walked a\nconsiderable way. When they were entered she invited them to remain.\nThey seemed to be total strangers to that part of the country, and the\nmore closely she observed them the more curious the hunter's wife\nbecame respecting her guests.\n\nNo efforts could induce them to come near the fire. They took their\nseats in a remote part of the lodge, and drew their garments about\nthem in such a manner as to almost completely hide their faces. They\nseemed shy and reserved, and when a glimpse could be had of their\nfaces they appeared pale, even of a deathly hue. Their eyes were\nbright but sunken: their cheek-bones were prominent, and their persons\nslender and emaciated.\n\nSeeing that her guests avoided conversation as well as observation,\nthe woman forbore to question them, and sat in silence until her\nhusband entered. He had been led further than usual in the pursuit of\ngame, but had returned with the carcass of a large and fat deer. The\nmoment he entered the lodge, the mysterious women exclaimed--\n\n\"Behold! what a fine and fat animal!\" and they immediately ran and\npulled off pieces of the whitest fat, which they ate with avidity.\n\nSuch conduct appeared very strange to the hunter, but supposing the\nstrangers had been a long time without food, he made no remark; and\nhis wife, taking example from her husband, likewise restrained\nherself.\n\nOn the following evening the same scene was repeated. The hunter\nbrought home the best portions of the game he had killed, and while he\nwas laying it down before his wife, according to custom, the two\nstrange women came quickly up, tore off large pieces of fat, and ate\nthem with greediness. Such behaviour might well have aroused the\nhunter's displeasure; but the deference due to strange guests induced\nhim to pass it over in silence.\n\nObserving the parts to which the strangers were most partial, the\nhunter resolved the next day to anticipate their wants by cutting off\nand tying up a portion of the fat for each. This he did: and having\nplaced the two portions of fat upon the top of his burden, as soon as\nhe entered the lodge he gave to each stranger the part that was hers.\nStill the guests appeared to be dissatisfied, and took more from the\ncarcass lying before the wife.\n\nExcept for this remarkable behaviour, the conduct of the guests was\nunexceptionable, although marked by some peculiarities. They were\nquiet, modest, and discreet. They maintained a cautious silence during\nthe day, neither uttering a word nor moving from the lodge. At night\nthey would get up, and, taking those implements which were then used\nin breaking and preparing wood, repair to the forest. Here they would\nbusy themselves in seeking dry branches and pieces of trees blown down\nby the wind. When a sufficient quantity had been gathered to last\nuntil the succeeding night they carried it home upon their shoulders.\nThen carefully putting everything in its place within the lodge, they\nresumed their seats and their studied silence. They were always\ncareful to return from their labours before the dawn of day, and were\nnever known to stay out beyond that hour. In this manner they repaid,\nin some measure, the kindness of the hunter, and relieved his wife\nfrom one of her most laborious duties.\n\nThus nearly the whole year passed away, every day leading to some new\ndevelopment of character which served to endear the parties to each\nother. The visitors began to assume a more hale and healthy aspect;\ntheir faces daily lost something of that deathly hue which had at\nfirst marked them, and they visibly improved in strength, and threw\noff some of that cold reserve and forbidding austerity which had kept\nthe hunter so long in ignorance of their true character.\n\nOne evening the hunter returned very late after having spent the day\nin toilsome exertion, and having laid the produce of his hunt at his\nwife's feet, the silent women seized it and began to tear off the fat\nin such an unceremonious manner that the wife could no longer control\nher feelings of disgust, and said to herself--\n\n\"This is really too bad. How can I bear it any longer!\"\n\nShe did not, however, put her thought into words, but an immediate\nchange was observed in the two visitors. They became unusually\nreserved, and showed evident signs of being uneasy in their situation.\nThe good hunter immediately perceived this change, and, fearful that\nthey had taken offence, as soon as they had retired demanded of his\nwife whether any harsh expression had escaped her lips during the day.\nShe replied that she had uttered nothing to give the least offence.\nThe hunter tried to compose himself to sleep, but he felt restive and\nuneasy, for he could hear the sighs and lamentations of the two\nstrangers. Every moment added to his conviction that his guests had\ntaken some deep offence; and, as he could not banish this idea from\nhis mind, he arose, and, going to the strangers, thus addressed them--\n\n\"Tell me, ye women, what is it that causes you pain of mind, and makes\nyou utter these unceasing sighs? Has my wife given you any cause of\noffence during the day while I was absent in the chase? My fears\npersuade me that, in some unguarded moment, she has forgotten what is\ndue to the rights of hospitality, and used expressions ill-befitting\nthe mysterious character you sustain. Tell me, ye strangers from a\nstrange country, ye women who appear not to be of this world, what it\nis that causes you pain of mind, and makes you utter these unceasing\nsighs.\"\n\nThey replied that no unkind expression had ever been used towards them\nduring their residence in the lodge, that they had received all the\naffectionate attention they could reasonably expect.\n\n\"It is not for ourselves,\" they continued, \"it is not for ourselves\nthat we weep. We are weeping for the fate of mankind; we are weeping\nfor the fate of mortals whom Death awaits at every stage of their\nexistence. Proud mortals, whom disease attacks in youth and in age.\nVain men, whom hunger pinches, cold benumbs, and poverty emaciates.\nWeak beings, who are born in tears, who are nurtured in tears, and\nwhose whole course is marked upon the thirsty sands of life in a broad\nline of tears. It is for these we weep.\n\n\"You have spoken truly, brother; we are not of this world. We are\nspirits from the land of the dead, sent upon the earth to try the\nsincerity of the living. It is not for the dead but for the living\nthat we mourn. It was by no means necessary that your wife should\nexpress her thoughts to us. We knew them as soon as they were formed.\nWe saw that for once displeasure had arisen in her heart. It is\nenough. Our mission is ended. We came but to try you, and we knew\nbefore we came that you were a kind husband, an affectionate father,\nand a good friend. Still, you have the weaknesses of a mortal, and\nyour wife is wanting in our eyes; but it is not alone for you we weep,\nit is for the fate of mankind.\n\n\"Often, very often, has the widower exclaimed, 'O Death, how cruel,\nhow relentless thou art to take away my beloved friend in the spring\nof her youth, in the pride of her strength, and in the bloom of her\nbeauty! If thou wilt permit her once more to return to my abode, my\ngratitude shall never cease; I will raise up my voice continually to\nthank the Master of Life for so excellent a boon. I will devote my\ntime to study how I can best promote her happiness while she is\npermitted to remain; and our lives shall roll away like a pleasant\nstream through a flowing valley!' Thus also has the father prayed for\nhis son, the mother for her daughter, the wife for her husband, the\nsister for her brother, the lover for his mistress, the friend for his\nbosom companion, until the sounds of mourning and the cries of the\nliving have pierced the very recesses of the dead.\n\n\"The Great Spirit has at length consented to make a trial of the\nsincerity of these prayers by sending us upon the earth. He has done\nthis to see how we should be received,--coming as strangers, no one\nknowing from where. Three moons were allotted to us to make the trial,\nand if, during that time, no impatience had been evinced, no angry\npassions excited at the place where we took up our abode, all those in\nthe land of spirits, whom their relatives had desired to return, would\nhave been restored. More than two moons have already passed, and as\nsoon as the leaves began to bud our mission would have been\nsuccessfully terminated. It is now too late. Our trial is finished,\nand we are called to the pleasant fields whence we came.\n\n\"Brother, it is proper that one man should die to make room for\nanother. Otherwise, the world would be filled to overflowing. It is\njust that the goods gathered by one should be left to be divided\namong others; for in the land of spirits there is no want, there is\nneither sorrow nor hunger, pain nor death. Pleasant fields, filled\nwith game spread before the eye, with birds of beautiful form. Every\nstream has good fish in it, and every hill is crowned with groves of\nfruit-trees, sweet and pleasant to the taste. It is not here, brother,\nbut there that men begin truly to live. It is not for those who\nrejoice in those pleasant groves but for you that are left behind that\nwe weep.\n\n\"Brother, take our thanks for your hospitable treatment. Regret not\nour departure. Fear not evil. Thy luck shall still be good in the\nchase, and there shall ever be a bright sky over thy lodge. Mourn not\nfor us, for no corn will spring up from tears.\"\n\nThe spirits ceased, but the hunter had no power over his voice to\nreply. As they had proceeded in their address he saw a light gradually\nbeaming from their faces, and a blue vapour filled the lodge with an\nunnatural light. As soon as they ceased, darkness gradually closed\naround. The hunter listened, but the sobs of the spirits had ceased.\nHe heard the door of his tent open and shut, but he never saw more of\nhis mysterious visitors.\n\nThe success promised him was his. He became a celebrated hunter, and\nnever wanted for anything necessary to his ease. He became the father\nof many boys, all of whom grew up to manhood, and health, peace, and\nlong life were the rewards of his hospitality.\n\n\n\n\nMANABOZHO AND HIS TOE.\n\n\nManabozho was so powerful that he began to think there was nothing he\ncould not do. Very wonderful were many of his feats, and he grew more\nconceited day by day. Now it chanced that one day he was walking about\namusing himself by exercising his extraordinary powers, and at length\nhe came to an encampment where one of the first things he noticed was\na child lying in the sunshine, curled up with its toe in its mouth.\n\nManabozho looked at the child for some time, and wondered at its\nextraordinary posture.\n\n\"I have never seen a child before lie like that,\" said he to himself,\n\"but I could lie like it.\"\n\nSo saying, he put himself down beside the child, and, taking his right\nfoot in his hand, drew it towards his mouth. When he had brought it as\nnear as he could it was yet a considerable distance away from his\nlips.\n\n\"I will try the left foot,\" said Manabozho. He did so and found that\nhe was no better off, neither of his feet could he get to his mouth.\nHe curled and twisted, and bent his large limbs, and gnashed his\nteeth in rage to find that he could not get his toe to his mouth. All,\nhowever, was vain.\n\nAt length he rose, worn out with his exertions and passion, and walked\nslowly away in a very ill humour, which was not lessened by the sound\nof the child's laughter, for Manabozho's efforts had awakened it.\n\n\"Ah, ah!\" said Manabozho, \"shall I be mocked by a child?\"\n\nHe did not, however, revenge himself on his victor, but on his way\nhomeward, meeting a boy who did not treat him with proper respect, he\ntransformed him into a cedar-tree.\n\n\"At least,\" said Manabozho, \"I can do something.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIRL WHO BECAME A BIRD.\n\n\nThe father of Ran-che-wai-me, the flying pigeon of the Wisconsin,\nwould not hear of her wedding Wai-o-naisa, the young chief who had\nlong sought her in marriage. The maiden, however, true to her plighted\nfaith, still continued to meet him every evening upon one of the\ntufted islets which stud the river in great profusion. Nightly,\nthrough the long months of summer, did the lovers keep their tryst,\nparting only after each meeting more and more endeared to each other.\n\nAt length Wai-o-naisa was ordered off upon a secret expedition against\nthe Sioux, and so sudden was his departure that he had no opportunity\nof bidding farewell to his betrothed. The band of warriors to which he\nwas attached was a long while absent, and one day there came the news\nthat Wai-o-naisa had fallen in a fight with the Menomones.\n\nRan-che-wai-me was inconsolable, but she dared not show her grief\nbefore her parents, and the only relief she could find from her sorrow\nwas to swim over by starlight to the island where she had been\naccustomed to meet her lover, and there, calling upon his name,\nbewail the loss of him who was dearer to her than all else.\n\nOne night, while she was engaged in this lamentation, the sound of her\nvoice attracted some of her father's people to the spot. Startled by\ntheir appearance the girl tried to climb a tree, in order to hide\nherself in its branches, but her frame was bowed with sorrow and her\nweak limbs refused to aid her.\n\n\"Wai-o-naisa!\" she cried, \"Wai-o-naisa!\"\n\nAt each repetition of his name her voice became shriller, while, as\nshe endeavoured to screen herself in the underwood, a soft plumage\nbegan to cover her delicate limbs, which were wounded by the briers.\nShe tossed her arms to the sky in her distress and they became clothed\nwith feathers. At length, when her pursuers were close upon her, a\nbird arose from the bush they had surrounded, and flitting from tree\nto tree, it fled before them, ever crying--\n\n\"Wai-o-naisa! Wai-o-naisa!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE UNDYING HEAD.\n\n\nIn a remote part of the north lived a man and his only sister who had\nnever seen human being. Seldom, if ever, had the man any cause to go\nfrom home, for if he wanted food he had only to go a little distance\nfrom the lodge, and there place his arrows with their barbs in the\nground. He would then return to the lodge and tell his sister where\nthe arrows had been placed, when she would go in search of them, and\nnever fail to find each struck through the heart of a deer. These she\ndragged to the lodge and dressed for food. Thus she lived until she\nattained womanhood. One day her brother, who was named Iamo, said to\nher--\n\n\"Sister, the time is near when you will be ill. Listen to my advice,\nfor if you do not it will probably be the cause of my death. Take the\nimplements with which we kindle our fires, go some distance from our\nlodge and build a separate fire. When you are in want of food I will\ntell you where to find it. You must cook for yourself and I for\nmyself. When you are ill do not attempt to come near the lodge or\nbring to it any of the utensils you use. Be sure to always have\nfastened to your belt whatever you will need in your sickness, for\nyou do not know when the time of your indisposition will come. As for\nmyself, I must do the best I can.\" His sister promised to obey him in\nall he said.\n\nShortly after her brother had cause to go from home. His sister was\nalone in the lodge combing her hair, and she had just untied and laid\naside the belt to which the implements were fastened when suddenly she\nfelt unwell. She ran out of the lodge, but in her haste forgot the\nbelt. Afraid to return she stood some time thinking, and finally she\ndetermined to return to the lodge and get it, for she said to\nherself--\n\n\"My brother is not at home, and I will stay but a moment to catch hold\nof it.\"\n\nShe went back, and, running in, suddenly seized the belt, and was\ncoming out, when her brother met her. He knew what had happened.\n\n\"Did I not tell you,\" said he, \"to take care? Now you have killed me.\"\n\nHis sister would have gone away, but he spoke to her again.\n\n\"What can you do now? What I feared has happened. Go in, and stay\nwhere you have always lived. You have killed me.\"\n\nHe then laid aside his hunting dress and accoutrements, and soon after\nboth his feet began to inflame and turn black, so that he could not\nmove. He directed his sister where to place his arrows, so that she\nmight always have food. The inflammation continued to increase, and\nhad now reached his first rib.\n\n\"Sister,\" said he, \"my end is near. You must do as I tell you. You\nsee my medicine-sack and my war-club tied to it. It contains all my\nmedicines, my war-plumes, and my paints of all colours. As soon as the\ninflammation reaches my chest, you will take my war-club, and with the\nsharp point of it cut off my head. When it is free from my body, take\nit, place its neck in the sack, which you must open at one end. Then\nhang it up in its former place. Do not forget my bow and arrows. One\nof the last you will take to procure food. Tie the others to my sack,\nand then hang it up so that I can look towards the door. Now and then\nI will speak to you, but not often.\"\n\nHis sister again promised to obey.\n\nIn a little time his chest became affected.\n\n\"Now,\" cried he, \"take the club and strike off my head.\"\n\nHis sister was afraid, but he told her to muster up courage.\n\n\"Strike,\" said he, with a smile upon his face.\n\nCalling up all her courage, his sister struck and cut off the head.\n\n\"Now,\" said the head, \"place me where I told you.\"\n\nFearful, she obeyed it in all its commands.\n\nRetaining its animation, it looked round the lodge as usual, and it\nwould command its sister to go to such places where it thought she\ncould best procure the flesh of the different animals she needed. One\nday the head said--\n\n\"The time is not distant when I shall be freed from this situation,\nbut I shall have to undergo many sore evils. So the Superior Manito\ndecrees, and I must bear all patiently.\"\n\nIn a certain part of the country was a village inhabited by a numerous\nand warlike band of Indians. In this village was a family of ten young\nmen, brothers. In the spring of the year the youngest of these\nblackened his face and fasted. His dreams were propitious, and having\nended his fast, he sent secretly for his brothers at night, so that\nthe people in the village should not be aware of their meeting. He\ntold them how favourable his dreams had been, and that he had called\nthem together to ask them if they would accompany him in a war\nexcursion. They all answered they would. The third son, noted for his\noddities, swinging his war-club when his brother had ceased speaking,\njumped up: \"Yes,\" said he, \"I will go, and this will be the way I will\ntreat those we go to fight with.\" With those words he struck the post\nin the centre of the lodge, and gave a yell. The other brothers spoke\nto him, saying--\n\n\"Gently, gently, Mudjikewis, when you are in other people's lodges.\"\nSo he sat down. Then, in turn, they took the drum, sang their songs,\nand closed the meeting with a feast. The youngest told them not to\nwhisper their intention to their wives, but to prepare secretly for\ntheir journey. They all promised obedience, and Mudjikewis was the\nfirst to do so.\n\nThe time for departure drew near. The youngest gave the word for them\nto assemble on a certain night, when they would commence their\njourney. Mudjikewis was loud in his demands for his moccasins, and his\nwife several times demanded the reason of his impatience.\n\n\"Besides,\" said she, \"you have a good pair on.\"\n\n\"Quick, quick,\" replied Mudjikewis; \"since you must know, we are going\non a war excursion.\"\n\nThus he revealed the secret.\n\nThat night they met and started. The snow was on the ground, and they\ntravelled all night lest others should follow them. When it was\ndaylight, the leader took snow, made a ball of it, and tossing it up\nin the air, said--\n\n\"It was in this way I saw snow fall in my dream, so that we could not\nbe tracked.\"\n\nImmediately snow began to fall in large flakes, so that the leader\ncommanded the brothers to keep close together for fear of losing one\nanother. Close as they walked together it was with difficulty they\ncould see one another. The snow continued falling all that day and the\nnext night, so that it was impossible for any one to follow their\ntrack.\n\nThey walked for several days, and Mudjikewis was always in the rear.\nOne day, running suddenly forward, he gave the Saw-saw-quan (war-cry),\nand struck a tree with his war-club, breaking the tree in pieces as if\nit had been struck by lightning.\n\n\"Brothers,\" said he, \"this is the way I will serve those we are going\nto fight.\"\n\nThe leader answered--\n\n\"Slowly, slowly, Mudjikewis. The one I lead you to is not to be\nthought of so lightly.\"\n\nAgain Mudjikewis fell back and thought to himself--\n\n\"What, what! Who can this be he is leading us to?\"\n\nHe felt fearful, and was silent. Day after day they travelled on till\nthey came to an extensive plain, on the borders of which human bones\nwere bleaching in the sun. The leader said--\n\n\"These are the bones of those who have gone before us. None has ever\nyet returned to tell the sad tale of their fate.\"\n\nAgain Mudjikewis became restless, and, running forward, gave the\naccustomed yell. Advancing to a large rock which stood above the\nground he struck it, and it fell to pieces.\n\n\"See, brothers,\" said he, \"thus will I treat those we are going to\nfight.\"\n\n\"Be quiet,\" said the leader. \"He to whom I am leading you is not to be\ncompared to that rock.\"\n\nMudjikewis fell back quite thoughtful, saying to himself--\n\n\"I wonder who this can be that he is going to attack;\" and he was\nafraid.\n\nThey continued to see the remains of former warriors who had been to\nthe place to which they were now going, and had retreated thus far\nback again. At last they came to a piece of rising ground, from which\nthey plainly saw on a distant mountain an enormous bear. The distance\nbetween them was very great, but the size of the animal caused it to\nbe seen very clearly.\n\n\"There,\" said the leader; \"it is to him I am leading you. Here our\ntroubles will only commence, for he is a mishemokwa\" (a she-bear, or a\nmale-bear as ferocious as a she-bear) \"and a manito. It is he who has\nwhat we prize so dearly, to obtain which the warriors whose bones we\nsaw sacrificed their lives. You must not be fearful. Be manly; we\nshall find him asleep.\"\n\nThe warriors advanced boldly till they came near to the bear, when\nthey stopped to look at it more closely. It was asleep, and there was\na belt around its neck.\n\n\"This,\" said the leader, touching the belt, \"is what we must get. It\ncontains what we want.\"\n\nThe eldest brother then tried to slip the belt over the bear's head,\nthe animal appearing to be fast asleep, and not at all disturbed by\nhis efforts. He could not, however, remove the belt, nor was any of\nthe brothers more successful till the one next to the youngest tried\nin his turn. He slipped the belt nearly over the beast's head, but\ncould not get it quite off. Then the youngest laid his hands on it,\nand with a pull succeeded. Placing the belt on the eldest brother's\nback, he said--\n\n\"Now we must run,\" and they started off at their best pace. When one\nbecame tired with the weight of the belt another carried it. Thus they\nran till they had passed the bones of all the warriors, and when they\nwere some distance beyond, looking back, they saw the monster slowly\nrising. For some time it stood still, not missing the belt. Then they\nheard a tremendous howl, like distant thunder, slowly filling the\nsky. At last they heard the bear cry--\n\n\"Who can it be that has dared to steal my belt? Earth is not so large\nbut I can find them,\" and it descended the hill in pursuit. With every\njump of the bear the earth shook as if it were convulsed. Very soon it\napproached the party. They, however, kept the belt, exchanging it from\none to another, and encouraging each other. The bear, however, gained\non them fast.\n\n\"Brothers,\" said the leader, \"have none of you, when fasting, ever\ndreamed of some friendly spirit who would aid you as a guardian?\"\n\nA dead silence followed.\n\n\"Well,\" continued he, \"once when I was fasting I dreamed of being in\ndanger of instant death, when I saw a small lodge, with smoke curling\nup from its top. An old man lived in it, and I dreamed that he helped\nme, and may my dream be verified soon.\"\n\nHaving said this, he ran forward and gave a yell and howl. They came\nupon a piece of rising ground, and, behold! a lodge with smoke curling\nfrom its top appeared before them. This gave them all new strength,\nand they ran forward and entered the lodge. In it they found an old\nman, to whom the leader said--\n\n\"Nemesho (my grandfather), help us. We ask your protection, for the\ngreat bear would kill us.\"\n\n\"Sit down and eat, my grandchildren,\" said the old man. \"Who is a\ngreat manito? There is none but me; but let me look;\" and he opened\nthe door of the lodge, and saw at a little distance the enraged bear\ncoming on with slow but great leaps. The old man closed the door.\n\n\"Yes,\" said he; \"he is indeed a great manito. My grandchildren, you\nwill be the cause of my losing my life. You asked my protection, and I\ngranted it; so now, come what may, I will protect you. When the bear\narrives at the door you must run out at the other end of the lodge.\"\n\nPutting his hand to the side of the lodge where he sat, he took down a\nbag, and, opening it, took out of it two small black dogs, which he\nplaced before him.\n\n\"These are the ones I use when I fight,\" said he, and he commenced\npatting with both hands the sides of one of the dogs, which at once\ncommenced to swell out until it filled the lodge, and it had great\nstrong teeth. When the dog had attained its full size it growled, and,\nspringing out at the door, met the bear, which, in another leap, would\nhave reached the lodge. A terrible combat ensued. The sky rang with\nthe howls of the monsters. In a little while the second dog took the\nfield. At the commencement of the battle the brothers, acting on the\nadvice of the old man, escaped through the opposite side of the lodge.\nThey had not proceeded far in their flight before they heard the\ndeath-cry of one of the dogs, and soon after that of the other.\n\n\"Well,\" said the leader, \"the old man will soon share their fate, so\nrun, run! the bear will soon be after us.\"\n\nThe brothers started with fresh vigour, for the old man had refreshed\nthem with food; but the bear very soon came in sight again, and was\nevidently fast gaining upon them. Again the leader asked the warriors\nif they knew of any way in which to save themselves. All were silent.\nRunning forward with a yell and a howl, the leader said--\n\n\"I dreamed once that, being in great trouble, an old man, who was a\nmanito, helped me. We shall soon see his lodge.\"\n\nTaking courage, the brothers still went on, and, after going a short\ndistance, they saw a lodge. Entering it, they found an old man, whose\nprotection they claimed, saying that a manito was pursuing them.\n\n\"Eat,\" said the old man, putting meat before them. \"Who is a manito?\nThere is no manito but me. There is none whom I fear.\"\n\nThen he felt the earth tremble as the bear approached, and, opening\nthe door of the lodge, he saw it coming. The old man shut the door\nslowly, and said--\n\n\"Yes, my grandchildren, you have brought trouble upon me.\"\n\nTaking his medicine sack, he took out some small war-clubs of black\nstone, and told the young men to run through the other side of the\nlodge. As he handled the clubs they became an enormous size, and the\nold man stepped out as the bear reached the door. He struck the beast\nwith one of his clubs, which broke in pieces, and the bear stumbled.\nThe old man struck it again with the other club, and that also broke,\nbut the bear fell insensible. Each blow the old man struck sounded\nlike a clap of thunder, and the howls of the bear ran along the skies.\n\nThe brothers had gone some distance before they looked back. They then\nsaw that the bear was recovering from the blows. First it moved its\npaws, and then they saw it rise to its feet. The old man shared the\nfate of the first, for the warriors heard his cries as he was torn in\npieces. Again the monster was in pursuit, and fast overtaking them.\nNot yet discouraged, the young men kept on their way, but the bear was\nso close to them that the leader once more applied to his brothers,\nbut they could do nothing.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"my dreams will soon be exhausted. After this I have\nbut one more.\"\n\nHe advanced, invoking his guardian spirit to aid him.\n\n\"Once,\" said he, \"I dreamed that, being sorely pressed, I came to a\nlarge lake, on the shore of which was a canoe, partly out of water,\nand having ten paddles all in readiness. Do not fear,\" he cried, \"we\nshall soon get to it.\"\n\nIt happened as he had said. Coming to the lake, the warriors found the\ncanoe with the ten paddles, and immediately took their places in it.\nPutting off, they paddled to the centre of the lake, when they saw the\nbear on the shore. Lifting itself on its hind-legs, it looked all\naround. Then it waded into the water until, losing its footing, it\nturned back, and commenced making the circuit of the lake. Meanwhile\nthe warriors remained stationary in the centre watching the animal's\nmovements. It travelled round till it came to the place whence it\nstarted. Then it commenced drinking up the water, and the young men\nsaw a strong current fast setting in towards the bear's mouth. The\nleader encouraged them to paddle hard for the opposite shore. This\nthey had nearly reached, when the current became too strong for them,\nand they were drawn back by it, and the stream carried them onwards to\nthe bear.\n\nThen the leader again spoke, telling his comrades to meet their fate\nbravely.\n\n\"Now is the time, Mudjikewis,\" said he, \"to show your prowess. Take\ncourage, and sit in the bow of the canoe, and, when it approaches the\nbear's mouth, try what effect your club will have on the beast's\nhead.\"\n\nMudjikewis obeyed, and, taking his place, stood ready to give the\nblow, while the leader, who steered, directed the canoe to the open\nmouth of the monster.\n\nRapidly advancing, the canoe was just about to enter the bear's mouth,\nwhen Mudjikewis struck the beast a tremendous blow on the head, and\ngave the saw-saw-quan. The bear's limbs doubled under it, and it fell\nstunned by the blow, but before Mudjikewis could strike again the\nmonster sent from its mouth all the water it had swallowed with such\nforce that the canoe was immediately carried by the stream to the\nother side of the lake. Leaving the canoe, the brothers fled, and on\nthey went till they were completely exhausted. Again they felt the\nearth shake, and, looking back, saw the monster hard after them. The\nyoung men's spirits drooped, and they felt faint-hearted. With words\nand actions the leader exerted himself to cheer them, and once more he\nasked them if they could do nothing, or think of nothing, that might\nsave them. All were silent as before.\n\n\"Then,\" said he, \"this is the last time I can apply to my guardian\nspirit. If we do not now succeed, our fate is decided.\"\n\nHe ran forward, invoking his spirit with great earnestness, and gave\nthe yell.\n\n\"We shall soon arrive,\" said he to his brothers, \"at the place where\nmy last guardian spirit dwells. In him I place great confidence. Do\nnot be afraid, or your limbs will be fear-bound. We shall soon reach\nhis lodge. Run, run!\"\n\nWhat had in the meantime passed in the lodge of Iamo? He had remained\nin the same condition, his head in the sack, directing his sister\nwhere to place the arrows to procure food, and speaking at long\nintervals.\n\nOne day the girl saw the eyes of the head brighten as if with\npleasure. At last it spoke.\n\n\"O sister!\" it said, \"in what a pitiful situation you have been the\ncause of placing me! Soon, very soon, a band of young men will arrive\nand apply to me for aid; but alas! how can I give what I would with so\nmuch pleasure have afforded them? Nevertheless, take two arrows, and\nplace them where you have been in the habit of placing the others, and\nhave meat cooked and prepared before they arrive. When you hear them\ncoming, and calling on my name, go out and say, 'Alas! it is long ago\nsince an accident befell him. I was the cause of it.' If they still\ncome near, ask them in, and set meat before them. Follow my directions\nstrictly. A bear will come. Go out and meet him, taking my medicine\nsack, bow and arrows, and my head. You must then untie the sack, and\nspread out before you my paints of all colours, my war eagle-feathers,\nmy tufts of dried hair, and whatsoever else the sack contains. As the\nbear approaches take these articles, one by one, and say to him, 'This\nis my dead brother's paint,' and so on with all the articles, throwing\neach of them as far from you as you can. The virtue contained in the\nthings will cause him to totter. Then, to complete his destruction,\nyou must take my head and cast it as far off as you can, crying aloud,\n'See, this is my dead brother's head!' He will then fall senseless.\nWhile this is taking place the young men will have eaten, and you must\ncall them to your aid. You will, with their assistance, cut the\ncarcass of the bear into pieces--into small pieces--and scatter them\nto the winds, for unless you do this he will again come to life.\"\n\nThe sister promised that all should be done as he commanded, and she\nhad only time to prepare the meal when the voice of the leader of the\nband of warriors was heard calling on Iamo for aid. The girl went out\nand did as she had been directed. She invited the brothers in and\nplaced meat before them, and while they were eating the bear was heard\napproaching. Untying the medicine sack and taking the head the girl\nmade all ready for its approach. When it came up she did as her\nbrother directed, and before she had cast down all the paints the bear\nbegan to totter, but, still advancing, came close to her. Then she\ntook the head and cast it from her as far as she could, and as it\nrolled upon the ground the bear, tottering, fell with a tremendous\nnoise. The girl cried for help, and the young men rushed out.\n\nMudjikewis, stepping up, gave a yell, and struck the bear a blow on\nthe head. This he repeated till he had dashed out its brains. Then the\nothers, as quickly as possible, cut the monster up into very small\npieces and scattered them in all directions. As they were engaged in\nthis they were surprised to find that wherever the flesh was thrown\nsmall black bears appeared, such as are seen at the present day,\nwhich, starting up, ran away. Thus from this monster the present race\nof bears derives its origin.\n\nHaving overcome their pursuer the brothers returned to the lodge, and\nthe girl gathered together the articles she had used, and placed the\nhead in the sack again. The head remained silent, probably from its\nbeing fatigued with its exertion in overcoming the bear.\n\nHaving spent so much time, and having traversed so vast a country in\ntheir flight, the young men gave up the idea of ever returning to\ntheir own country, and game being plentiful about the lodge, they\ndetermined to remain where they were. One day they moved off some\ndistance from the lodge for the purpose of hunting, and left the belt\nwith the girl. They were very successful, and amused themselves with\ntalking and jesting. One of them said--\n\n\"We have all this sport to ourselves. Let us go and ask our sister if\nshe will not let us bring the head to this place, for it is still\nalive.\"\n\nSo they went and asked for the head. The girl told them to take it,\nand they carried it to their hunting-grounds and tried to amuse it,\nbut only at times did they see its eyes beam with pleasure. One day,\nwhile they were busy in their encampment, they were unexpectedly\nattacked by unknown enemies. The fight was long and fierce. Many of\nthe foes were slain, but there were thirty of them to each warrior.\nThe young men fought desperately till they were all killed, and then\nthe attacking party retreated to a high place to muster their men and\ncount the missing and the slain. One of the men had strayed away, and\nhappened to come to where the head was hung up. Seeing that it was\nalive he eyed it for some time with fear and surprise. Then he took it\ndown, and having opened the sack he was much pleased to see the\nbeautiful feathers, one of which he placed on his head.\n\nIt waved gracefully over him as he walked to his companions' camp,\nand when he came there he threw down the head and sack and told his\nfriends how he had found them, and how the sack was full of paints and\nfeathers. The men all took the head and made sport of it. Many of the\nyoung men took the paint and painted themselves with it; and one of\nthe band, taking the head by the hair, said--\n\n\"Look, you ugly thing, and see your paints on the faces of warriors.\"\n\nThe feathers were so beautiful that many of the young men placed them\non their heads, and they again subjected the head to all kinds of\nindignity. They were, however, soon punished for their insulting\nconduct, for all who had worn the feathers became sick and died. Then\nthe chief commanded the men to throw all the paints and feathers away.\n\n\"As for the head,\" he said, \"we will keep that and take it home with\nus; we will there see what we can do with it. We will try to make it\nshut its eyes.\"\n\nMeanwhile for several days the sister had been waiting for the\nbrothers to bring back the head; till at last, getting impatient, she\nwent in search of them. She found them lying within short distances of\none another, dead, and covered with wounds. Other bodies lay scattered\naround. She searched for the head and sack, but they were nowhere to\nbe found, so she raised her voice and wept, and blackened her face.\nThen she walked in different directions till she came to the place\nwhence the head had been taken, and there she found the bow and\narrows, which had been left behind. She searched further, hoping to\nfind her brother's head, and, when she came to a piece of rising\nground she found some of his paints and feathers. These she carefully\nput by, hanging them to the branch of a tree.\n\nAt dusk she came to the first lodge of a large village. Here she used\na charm employed by Indians when they wish to meet with a kind\nreception, and on applying to the old man and the woman who occupied\nthe lodge she was made welcome by them. She told them her errand, and\nthe old man, promising to help her, told her that the head was hung up\nbefore the council fire, and that the chiefs and young men of the\nvillage kept watch over it continually. The girl said she only desired\nto see the head, and would be satisfied if she could only get to the\ndoor of the lodge in which it was hung, for she knew she could not\ntake it by force.\n\n\"Come with me,\" said the old man, \"I will take you there.\"\n\nSo they went and took their seats in the lodge near to the door. The\ncouncil lodge was filled with warriors amusing themselves with games,\nand constantly keeping up the fire to smoke the head to dry it. As the\ngirl entered the lodge the men saw the features of the head move, and,\nnot knowing what to make of it, one spoke and said--\n\n\"Ha! ha! it is beginning to feel the effects of the smoke.\"\n\nThe sister looked up from the seat by the door; her eyes met those of\nher brother, and tears began to roll down the cheeks of the head.\n\n\"Well,\" said the chief, \"I thought we would make you do something at\nlast. Look! look at it shedding tears,\" said he to those around him,\nand they all laughed and made jokes upon it. The chief, looking\naround, observed the strange girl, and after some time said to the old\nman who brought her in--\n\n\"Who have you got there? I have never seen that woman before in our\nvillage.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the old man, \"you have seen her. She is a relation of\nmine, and seldom goes out. She stays in my lodge, and she asked me to\nbring her here.\"\n\nIn the centre of the lodge sat one of those young men who are always\nforward, and fond of boasting and displaying themselves before others.\n\n\"Why,\" said he, \"I have seen her often, and it is to his lodge I go\nalmost every night to court her.\"\n\nAll the others laughed and continued their games. The young man did\nnot know he was telling a lie to the girl's advantage, who by means of\nit escaped.\n\nShe returned to the old man's lodge, and immediately set out for her\nown country. Coming to the spot where the bodies of her adopted\nbrothers lay, she placed them together with their feet towards the\neast. Then taking an axe she had she cast it up into the air, crying\nout--\n\n\"Brothers, get up from under it or it will fall on you!\"\n\nThis she repeated three times, and the third time all the brothers\nrose and stood on their feet. Mudjikewis commenced rubbing his eyes\nand stretching himself.\n\n\"Why,\" said he, \"I have overslept myself.\"\n\n\"No, indeed,\" said one of the others. \"Do you not know we were all\nkilled, and that it is our sister who has brought us to life?\"\n\nThe brothers then took the bodies of their enemies and burned them.\nSoon after the girl went to a far country, they knew not where, to\nprocure wives for them, and she returned with the women, whom she gave\nto the young men, beginning with the eldest. Mudjikewis stepped to and\nfro, uneasy lest he should not get the one he liked, but he was not\ndisappointed, for she fell to his lot; and the two were well matched,\nfor she was a female magician.\n\nThe young men and their wives all moved into a very large lodge, and\ntheir sister told them that one of the women must go in turns every\nnight to try and recover the head of her brother, untying the knots by\nwhich it was hung up in the council lodge. The women all said they\nwould go with pleasure. The eldest made the first attempt. With a\nrushing noise she disappeared through the air.\n\nTowards daylight she returned. She had failed, having only succeeded\nin untying one of the knots. All the women save the youngest went in\nturn, and each one succeeded in untying only one knot each time. At\nlength the youngest went. As soon as she arrived at the lodge she went\nto work. The smoke from the fire in the lodge had not ascended for ten\nnights. It now filled the place and drove all the men out. The girl\nwas alone, and she carried off the head.\n\nThe brothers and Iamo's sister heard the young woman coming high\nthrough the air, and they heard her say--\n\n\"Prepare the body of our brother.\"\n\nAs soon as they heard that they went to where Iamo's body lay, and,\nhaving got it ready, as soon as the young woman arrived with the head\nthey placed it to the body, and Iamo was restored in all his former\nmanliness and beauty. All rejoiced in the happy termination of their\ntroubles, and when they had spent some time joyfully together, Iamo\nsaid--\n\n\"Now I will divide the treasure,\" and taking the bear's belt he\ncommenced dividing what it contained amongst the brothers, beginning\nwith the eldest. The youngest brother, however, got the most splendid\npart of the spoil, for the bottom of the belt held what was richest\nand rarest.\n\nThen Iamo told them that, since they had all died and been restored to\nlife again, they were no longer mortals but spirits, and he assigned\nto each of them a station in the invisible world. Only Mudjikewis'\nplace was, however, named. He was to direct the west wind. The\nbrothers were commanded, as they had it in their power, to do good to\nthe inhabitants of the earth, and to give all things with a liberal\nhand.\n\nThe spirits then, amid songs and shouts, took their flight to their\nrespective places, while Iamo and his sister, Iamoqua, descended into\nthe depths below.\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD CHIPPEWAY.\n\n\nThe old man Chippeway, the first of men, when he first landed on the\nearth, near where the present Dogribs have their hunting-grounds,\nfound the world a beautiful world, well stocked with food, and\nabounding with pleasant things. He found no man, woman, or child upon\nit; but in time, being lonely, he created children, to whom he gave\ntwo kinds of fruit, the black and the white, but he forbade them to\neat the black. Having given his commands for the government and\nguidance of his family, he took leave of them for a time, to go into a\nfar country where the sun dwelt, for the purpose of bringing it to the\nearth.\n\nAfter a very long journey, and a long absence, he returned, bringing\nwith him the sun, and he was delighted to find that his children had\nremained obedient, and had eaten only of the white food.\n\nAgain he left them to go on another expedition. The sun he had brought\nlighted up the earth for only a short time, and in the land from which\nhe had brought it he had noticed another body, which served as a lamp\nin the dark hours. He resolved therefore to journey and bring back\nwith him the moon; so, bidding adieu to his children and his dwelling,\nhe set forth once more.\n\nWhile he had been absent on his first expedition, his children had\neaten up all the white food, and now, when he set out, he forgot to\nprovide them with a fresh supply. For a long time they resisted the\ncraving for food, but at last they could hold out no longer, and\nsatisfied their hunger with the black fruit.\n\nThe old Chippeway soon returned, bringing with him the moon. He soon\ndiscovered that his children had transgressed his command, and had\neaten the food of disease and death. He told them what was the\nconsequence of their act--that in future the earth would produce bad\nfruits, that sickness would come amongst men, that pain would rack\nthem, and their lives be lives of fatigue and danger.\n\nHaving brought the sun and moon to the earth, the old man Chippeway\nrested, and made no more expeditions. He lived an immense number of\nyears, and saw all the troubles he declared would follow the eating of\nthe black food. At last he became tired of life, and his sole desire\nwas to be freed from it.\n\n\"Go,\" said he, to one of his sons, \"to the river of the Bear Lake, and\nfetch me a man of the little wise people (the beavers). Let it be one\nwith a brown ring round the end of the tail, and a white spot on the\ntip of the nose. Let him be just two seasons old upon the first day\nof the coming frog-moon, and see that his teeth be sharp.\"\n\nThe man did as he was directed. He went to the river of the Bear Lake,\nand brought a man of the little wise people. He had a brown ring round\nthe end of his tail, and a white spot on the tip of his nose. He was\njust two seasons old upon the first day of the frog-moon, and his\nteeth were very sharp.\n\n\"Take the wise four-legged man,\" said the old Chippeway, \"and pull\nfrom his jaws seven of his teeth.\"\n\nThe man did as he was directed, and brought the teeth to the old man.\nThen he bade him call all his people together, and when they were come\nthe old man thus addressed them--\n\n\"I am old, and am tired of life, and wish to sleep the sleep of death.\nI will go hence. Take the seven teeth of the wise little four-legged\nman and drive them into my body.\"\n\nThey did so, and as the last tooth entered him the old man died.\n\n\n\n\nMUKUMIK! MUKUMIK! MUKUMIK!\n\n\nPauppukkeewis was a harum-scarum fellow who played many queer tricks,\nbut he took care, nevertheless, to supply his family and children with\nfood. Sometimes, however, he was hard-pressed, and once he and his\nwhole family were on the point of starving. Every resource seemed to\nhave failed. The snow was so deep, and the storm continued so long,\nthat he could not even find a partridge or a hare, and his usual\nsupply of fish had failed him. His lodge stood in some woods not far\naway from the shores of the Gitchiguma, or great water, where the\nautumnal storms had piled up the ice into high pinnacles, resembling\ncastles.\n\n\"I will go,\" said he to his family one morning, \"to these castles, and\nsolicit the pity of the spirits who inhabit them, for I know that they\nare the residence of some of the spirits of Rabiboonoka.\"\n\nHe did so, and his petition was not disregarded. The spirits told him\nto fill his mushkemoots or sacks with the ice and snow, and pass on\ntowards his lodge, without looking back, until he came to a certain\nhill. He was then to drop his sacks, and leave them till morning,\nwhen he would find them full of fish.\n\nThe spirits cautioned him that he must by no means look back, although\nhe should hear a great many voices crying out to him abusing him; for\nthey told him such voices would be in reality only the wind playing\nthrough the branches of the trees.\n\nPauppukkeewis faithfully obeyed the directions given him, although he\nfound it difficult to avoid looking round to see who was calling to\nhim. When he visited the sacks in the morning, he found them filled\nwith fish.\n\nIt happened that Manabozho visited him on the morning when he brought\nthe fish home, and the visitor was invited to partake of the feast.\nWhile they were eating, Manabozho could not help asking where such an\nabundance of food had been procured at a time when most were in a\nstate of starvation.\n\nPauppukkeewis frankly told him the secret, and and what precautions to\ntake to ensure success. Manabozho determined to profit by the\ninformation, and, as soon as he could, set out to visit the icy\ncastles. All things happened as Pauppukkeewis had told him. The\nspirits appeared to be kind, and told Manabozho to fill and carry. He\naccordingly filled his sacks with ice and snow, and then walked off\nquickly to the hill where he was to leave them. As he went, however,\nhe heard voices calling out behind him.\n\n\"Thief! thief! He has stolen fish from Rabiboonoka,\" cried one.\n\n\"Mukumik! Mukumik! take it away, take it away,\" cried another.\n\nManabozho's ears were so assailed by all manner of insulting cries,\nthat at last he got angry, and, quite forgetting the directions given\nhim, he turned his head to see who it was that was abusing him. He saw\nno one, and proceeded on his way to the hill, to which he was\naccompanied by his invisible tormentors. He left his bags of ice and\nsnow there, to be changed into fish, and came back the next morning.\nHis disobedience had, however, dissolved the charm, and he found his\nbags still full of rubbish.\n\nIn consequence of this he is condemned every year, during the month of\nMarch, to run over the hills, with Pauppukkeewis following him,\ncrying--\n\n\"Mukumik! Mukumik!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE SWING BY THE LAKE.\n\n\nThere was an old hag of a woman who lived with her daughter-in-law and\nher husband, with their son and a little orphan boy. When her\nson-in-law came home from hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife\nthe moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of\ndifferent animals. These the girl would cook crisp, so that the sound\nof their cracking could be heard when she ate them. This kind\nattention of the hunter to his wife aroused the envy of the old woman.\nShe wished to have the same luxuries, and, in order to obtain them,\nshe at last resolved to kill the young wife. One day she asked her to\nleave her infant son to the care of the orphan boy, and come out and\nswing with her. The wife consented, and the mother-in-law took her to\nthe shore of a lake, where there was a high ridge of rocks overhanging\nthe water. Upon the top of these rocks the old woman put up a swing,\nand, having fastened a piece of leather round her body, she commenced\nto swing herself, going over the precipice each time. She continued\nthis for a short while, and then, stopping, told her daughter-in-law\nto take her place. She did so, and, having tied the leather round her,\nbegan to swing backwards and forwards. When she was well going,\nsweeping at each turn clear beyond the precipice, the old woman slyly\ncut the cords, and let her drop into the lake. She then put on some of\nthe girl's clothing, entered the lodge in the dusk of the evening, and\nwent about the work in which her daughter-in-law had been usually\noccupied at such a time. She found the child crying, and, since the\nmother was not there to give it the breast, it cried on. Then the\norphan boy asked her where the mother was.\n\n\"She is still swinging,\" replied the old woman.\n\n\"I will go,\" said he, \"and look for her.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the old woman, \"you must not. What would you go for?\"\n\nIn the evening, when the husband came in, he gave the coveted morsels\nto what he supposed was his wife. He missed the old woman, but asked\nnothing about her. Meanwhile the woman ate the morsels, and tried to\nquiet the child. The husband, seeing that she kept her face away from\nhim, was astonished, and asked why the child cried so. His pretended\nwife answered that she did not know.\n\nIn the meantime the orphan boy went to the shores of the lake, where\nhe found no one. Then he suspected the old woman, and, having returned\nto the lodge, told the hunter, while she was out getting wood, all he\nhad heard and seen. The man, when he had heard the story, painted his\nface black, and placed his spear upside down in the earth, and\nrequested the Great Spirit to send lightning, thunder, and rain, in\nthe hope that the body of his wife might arise from the water. He then\nbegan to fast, and told the boy to take the child and play upon the\nlake shore.\n\nMeanwhile this is what had happened to the wife. After she had plunged\ninto the lake, she found herself in the hold of a water-tiger, who\ndrew her to the bottom. There she found a lodge, and all things in it\nas if arranged for her reception, and she became the water-tiger's\nwife.\n\nWhilst the orphan boy and the child were playing on the shore of the\nlake one day, the boy began to throw pebbles into the water, when\nsuddenly a gull arose from the centre of the lake, and flew towards\nthe land. When it had arrived there, it took human shape, and the boy\nrecognised that it was the lost mother. She had a leather belt around\nher, and another belt of white metal. She suckled the baby, and,\npreparing to return to the water, said to the boy--\n\n\"Come here with the child whenever it cries, and I will nurse it.\"\n\nThe boy carried the child home, and told the father what had occurred.\nWhen the child cried again, the man went with the boy to the shore,\nand hid himself behind a clump of trees. Soon the gull made its\nappearance, with a long shining chain attached to it. The bird came to\nthe shore, assumed the mother's shape, and began to suckle the child.\nThe husband stood with his spear in his hand, wondering what he had\nbest do to regain his wife. When he saw her preparing to return to the\nlake he rushed forward, struck the shining chain with his spear, and\nbroke it. Then he took his wife and child home. As he entered the\nlodge the old woman looked up, and, when she saw the wife, she dropped\nher head in despair. A rustling was heard in the place; the next\nmoment the old woman leaped up, flew out of the lodge, and was never\nheard of more.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIRE PLUME.\n\n\nWassamo was living with his parents on the shores of a large bay on\nthe east coast of Lake Michigan. It was at a period when nature\nspontaneously furnished everything that was wanted, when the Indians\nused skins for clothing, and flints for arrow heads. It was long\nbefore the time that the flag of the white man had first been seen in\nthese lakes, or the sound of an iron axe had been heard. The skill of\nour people supplied them with weapons to kill game, with instruments\nto procure bark for their canoes, and they knew to dress and cook\ntheir victuals.\n\nOne day, when the season had commenced for fish to be plentiful near\nthe shore of the lake, Wassamo's mother said to him--\n\n\"My son, I wish you would go to yonder point, and see if you cannot\nprocure me some fish. You may ask your cousin to accompany you.\"\n\nHe did so. They set out, and, in the course of the afternoon, arrived\nat the fishing-ground. His cousin attended to the nets, for he was\ngrown up to manhood, but Wassamo had not yet reached that age. They\nput their nets in the water, and encamped near them, using only a few\npieces of birch-bark for a lodge to shelter them at night. They lit a\nfire, and, while they were conversing together, the moon arose. Not a\nbreath of wind disturbed the smooth and bright surface of the lake.\nNot a cloud was seen. Wassamo looked out on the water towards their\nnets, and saw that almost all the floats had disappeared.\n\n\"Cousin,\" he said, \"let us visit our nets. Perhaps we are fortunate.\"\n\nThey did so, and were rejoiced, as they drew them up, to see the\nmeshes white here and there with fish. They landed in good spirits,\nand put away their canoe in safety from the winds.\n\n\"Wassamo,\" said his cousin, \"you cook that we may eat.\"\n\nWassamo set about it immediately, and soon got his kettle on the\nflames, while his cousin was lying at his ease on the opposite side of\nthe fire.\n\n\"Cousin,\" said Wassamo, \"tell me stories, or sing me some love-songs.\"\n\nThe other obeyed, and sang his plaintive songs. He would frequently\nbreak off, and tell parts of stories, and would then sing again, as\nsuited his feelings or fancy. While thus employed, he unconsciously\nfell asleep. Wassamo had scarcely noticed it in his care to watch the\nkettle, and, when the fish were done, he took the kettle off. He spoke\nto his cousin, but received no answer. He took the wooden ladle to\nskim off the oil, for the fish were very fat. He had a flambeau of\ntwisted bark in one hand to give light; but, when he came to take out\nthe fish, he did not know how to manage to hold the light, so he took\noff his garters, and tied them tight round his head, and then placed\nthe lighted flambeau above his forehead, so that it was firmly held by\nthe bandage, and threw its light brilliantly about him. Having both\nhands thus at liberty, he began to take out the fish. Suddenly he\nheard a laugh.\n\n\"Cousin,\" said he, \"some one is near us. Awake, and let us look out.\"\n\nHis cousin, however, continued asleep. Again Wassamo heard the\nlaughter, and, looking, he beheld two beautiful girls.\n\n\"Awake, awake,\" said he to his cousin. \"Here are two young women;\" but\nhe received no answer, for his cousin was locked in his deepest\nslumbers.\n\nWassamo started up and advanced to the strange women. He was about to\nspeak to them, when he fell senseless to the earth.\n\nA short while after his cousin awoke. He looked around and called\nWassamo, but could not find him.\n\n\"Netawis, Netawis (Cousin, cousin)!\" he cried; but there was no\nanswer. He searched the woods and all the shores around, but could not\nfind him. He did not know what to do.\n\n\"Although,\" he reasoned, \"his parents are my relations, and they know\nhe and I were great friends, they will not believe me if I go home and\nsay that he is lost. They will say that I killed him, and will require\nblood for blood.\"\n\nHowever, he resolved to return home, and, arriving there, he told\nthem what had occurred. Some said, \"He has killed him treacherously,\"\nothers said, \"It is impossible. They were like brothers.\"\n\nSearch was made on every side, and when at length it became certain\nthat Wassamo was not to be found, his parents demanded the life of\nNetawis.\n\nMeanwhile, what had happened to Wassamo? When he recovered his senses,\nhe found himself stretched on a bed in a spacious lodge.\n\n\"Stranger,\" said some one, \"awake, and take something to eat.\"\n\nLooking around him he saw many people, and an old spirit man,\naddressing him, said--\n\n\"My daughters saw you at the fishing-ground, and brought you here. I\nam the guardian spirit of Nagow Wudjoo (the sand mountains). We will\nmake your visit here agreeable, and if you will remain I will give you\none of my daughters in marriage.\"\n\nThe young man consented to the match, and remained for some time with\nthe spirit of the sand-hills in his lodge at the bottom of the lake,\nfor there was it situated. At last, however, approached the season of\nsleep, when the spirit and his relations lay down for their long rest.\n\n\"Son-in-law,\" said the old spirit, \"you can now, in a few days, start\nwith your wife to visit your relations. You can be absent one year,\nbut after that you must return.\"\n\nWassamo promised to obey, and set out with his wife. When he was near\nhis village, he left her in a thicket and advanced alone. As he did\nso, who should he meet but his cousin.\n\n\"Netawis, Netawis,\" cried his cousin, \"you have come just in time to\nsave me!\"\n\nThen he ran off to the lodge of Wassamo's parents.\n\n\"I have seen him,\" said he, \"whom you accuse me of having killed. He\nwill be here in a few minutes.\"\n\nAll the village was soon in a bustle, and Wassamo and his wife excited\nuniversal attention, and the people strove who should entertain them\nbest. So the time passed happily till the season came that Wassamo and\nhis wife should return to the spirits. Netawis accompanied them to the\nshores of the lake, and would have gone with them to their strange\nabode, but Wassamo sent him back. With him Wassamo took offerings from\nthe Indians to his father-in-law.\n\nThe old spirit was delighted to see the two return, and he was also\nmuch pleased with the presents Wassamo brought. He told his son-in-law\nthat he and his wife should go once more to visit his people.\n\n\"It is merely,\" said he, \"to assure them of my friendship, and to bid\nthem farewell for ever.\"\n\nSome time afterwards Wassamo and his wife made this visit. Having\ndelivered his message, he said--\n\n\"I must now bid you all farewell for ever.\"\n\nHis parents and friends raised their voices in loud lamentation, and\nthey accompanied him and his wife to the sand-banks to see them take\ntheir departure.\n\nThe day was mild, the sky clear, not a cloud appeared, nor was there a\nbreath of wind to disturb the bright surface of the water. The most\nperfect silence reigned throughout the company. They gazed intently\nupon Wassamo and his wife as they waded out into the water, waving\ntheir hands. They saw them go into deeper and deeper water. They saw\nthe wave close over their heads. All at once they raised a loud and\npiercing wail. They looked again. A red flame, as if the sun had\nglanced on a billow, marked the spot for an instant; but the\nFeather-of-Flames and his wife had disappeared for ever.\n\n\n\n\nTHE JOURNEY TO THE ISLAND OF SOULS.\n\n\nOnce upon a time there lived in the nation of the Chippeways a most\nbeautiful maiden, the flower of the wilderness, the delight and wonder\nof all who saw her. She was called the Rock-rose, and was beloved by a\nyouthful hunter, whose advances gained her affection. No one was like\nthe brave Outalissa in her eyes: his deeds were the greatest, his\nskill was the most wonderful. It was not permitted them, however, to\nbecome the inhabitants of one lodge. Death came to the flower of the\nChippeways. In the morning of her days she died, and her body was laid\nin the dust with the customary rites of burial. All mourned for her,\nbut Outalissa was a changed man. No more did he find delight in the\nchase or on the war-path. He grew sad, shunned the society of his\nbrethren. He stood motionless as a tree in the hour of calm, as the\nwave that is frozen up by the breath of the cold wind.\n\nJoy came no more to him. He told his discontent in the ears of his\npeople, and spoke of his determination to seek his beloved maiden. She\nhad but removed, he said, as the birds fly away at the approach of\nwinter, and it required but due diligence on his part to find her.\nHaving prepared himself, as a hunter makes ready for a long journey,\nhe armed himself with his war-spear and bow and arrow, and set out to\nthe Land of Souls.\n\nDirected by the old tradition of his fathers, he travelled south to\nreach that region, leaving behind him the great star. As he moved\nonwards, he found a more pleasant region succeeding to that in which\nhe had lived. Daily, hourly, he remarked the change. The ice grew\nthinner, the air warmer, the trees taller. Birds, such as he had never\nseen before, sang in the bushes, and fowl of many kinds were pluming\nthemselves in the warm sun on the shores of the lake. The gay\nwoodpecker was tapping the hollow beech, the swallow and the martin\nwere skimming along the level of the green vales. He heard no more the\ncracking of branches beneath the weight of icicles and snow, he saw no\nmore the spirits of departed men dancing wild dances on the skirts of\nthe northern clouds, and the farther he travelled the milder grew the\nskies, the longer was the period of the sun's stay upon the earth, and\nthe softer, though less brilliant, the light of the moon.\n\nNoting these changes as he went with a joyful heart, for they were\nindications of his near approach to the land of joy and delight, he\ncame at length to a cabin situated on the brow of a steep hill in the\nmiddle of a narrow road. At the door of this cabin stood a man of a\nmost ancient and venerable appearance. He was bent nearly double with\nage. His locks were white as snow. His eyes were sunk very far into\nhis head, and the flesh was wasted from his bones, till they were like\ntrees from which the bark has been peeled. He was clothed in a robe of\nwhite goat's skin, and a long staff supported his tottering limbs\nwhithersoever he walked.\n\nThe Chippeway began to tell him who he was, and why he had come\nthither, but the aged man stopped him, telling him he knew upon what\nerrand he was bent.\n\n\"A short while before,\" said he, \"there passed the soul of a tender\nand lovely maiden, well-known to the son of the Red Elk, on her way to\nthe beautiful island. She was fatigued with her long journey, and\nrested a while in this cabin. She told me the story of your love, and\nwas persuaded that you would attempt to follow her to the Lake of\nSpirits.\"\n\nThe old man, further, told Outalissa that if he made speed he might\nhope to overtake the maiden on the way. Before, however, he resumed\nhis journey he must leave behind him his body, his spear, bow, and\narrows, which the old man promised to keep for him should he return.\nThe Chippeway left his body and arms behind him, and under the\ndirection of the old man entered upon the road to the Blissful Island.\nHe had travelled but a couple of bowshots when it met his view, even\nmore beautiful than his fathers had painted it.\n\nHe stood upon the brow of a hill which sloped gently down to the water\nof a lake which stretched as far as eye could see. Upon its banks\nwere groves of beautiful trees of all kinds, and many canoes were to\nbe seen gliding over its water. Afar, in the centre of the lake, lay\nthe beautiful island appointed for the residence of the good. He\nwalked down to the shore and entered a canoe which stood ready for\nhim, made of a shining white stone. Seizing the paddle, he pushed off\nfrom the shore and commenced to make his way to the island. As he did\nso, he came to a canoe like his own, in which he found her whom he was\nin pursuit of. She recognised him, and the two canoes glided side by\nside over the water. Then Outalissa knew that he was on the Water of\nJudgment, the great water over which every soul must pass to reach the\nbeautiful island, or in which it must sink to meet the punishment of\nthe wicked. The two lovers glided on in fear, for the water seemed at\ntimes ready to swallow them, and around them they could see many\ncanoes, which held those whose lives had been wicked, going down. The\nMaster of Life had, however, decreed that they should pass in safety,\nand they reached the shores of the beautiful island, on which they\nlanded full of joy.\n\nIt is impossible to tell the delights with which they found it filled.\nMild and soft winds, clear and sweet waters, cool and refreshing\nshades, perpetual verdure, inexhaustible fertility, met them on all\nsides. Gladly would the son of the Red Elk have remained for ever with\nhis beloved in the happy island, but the words of the Master of Life\ncame to him in the pauses of the breeze, saying--\n\n\"Go back to thy own land, hunter. Your time has not yet come. You\nhave not yet performed the work I have for you to do, nor can you yet\nenjoy those pleasures which belong to them who have performed their\nallotted task on earth. Go back, then. In time thou shalt rejoin her,\nthe love of whom has brought thee hither.\"\n\n\n\n\nMACHINITOU, THE EVIL SPIRIT.\n\n\nChemanitou, being the Master of Life, at one time became the origin of\na spirit that has ever since caused him and all others of his creation\na great deal of disquiet. His birth was owing to an accident. It was\nin this wise:--\n\nMetowac, or as the white people now call it, Long Island, was\noriginally a vast plain, so level and free from any kind of growth\nthat it looked like a portion of the great sea that had suddenly been\nmade to move back and let the sand below appear, which was, in fact,\nthe case.\n\nHere it was that Chemanitou used to come and sit when he wished to\nbring any new creation to life. The place being spacious and solitary,\nthe water upon every side, he had not only room enough, but was free\nfrom interruption.\n\nIt is well known that some of these early creations were of very great\nsize, so that very few could live in the same place, and their\nstrength made it difficult for even Chemanitou to control them, for\nwhen he has given them certain powers they have the use of the laws\nthat govern those powers, till it is his will to take them back to\nhimself. Accordingly it was the custom of Chemanitou, when he wished\nto try the effect of these creatures, to set them in motion upon the\nisland of Metowac, and if they did not please him, he took the life\naway from them again. He would set up a mammoth, or other large\nanimal, in the centre of the island, and build it up with great care,\nsomewhat in the manner that a cabin or a canoe is made.\n\nEven to this day may be found traces of what had been done here in\nformer years, and the manner in which the earth sometimes sinks down\nshows that this island is nothing more than a great cake of earth, a\nsort of platter laid upon the sea for the convenience of Chemanitou,\nwho used it as a table upon which he might work, never having designed\nit for anything else, the margin of the Chatiemac (the stately swan),\nor Hudson river, being better adapted to the purposes of habitation.\n\nWhen the Master of Life wished to build up an elephant or mammoth, he\nplaced four cakes of clay upon the ground, at proper distances, which\nwere moulded into shape, and became the feet of the animal.\n\nNow sometimes these were left unfinished, and to this day the green\ntussocks to be seen like little islands about the marshes show where\nthese cakes of clay were placed.\n\nAs Chemanitou went on with his work, the Neebanawbaigs (or\nwater-spirits), the Puck-wud-jinnies (little men who vanish), and,\nindeed, all the lesser manitoes, used to come and look on, and wonder\nwhat it would be, and how it would act.\n\nWhen the animal was completed, and had dried a long time in the sun,\nChemanitou opened a place in the side, and, entering in, remained\nthere many days.\n\nWhen he came forth the creature began to shiver and sway from side to\nside, in such a manner as shook the whole island for leagues. If its\nappearance pleased the Master of Life it was suffered to depart, and\nit was generally found that these animals plunged into the open sea\nupon the north side of the island, and disappeared in the great\nforests beyond.\n\nNow at one time Chemanitou was a very long time building an animal of\nsuch great bulk that it looked like a mountain upon the centre of the\nisland, and all the manitoes from all parts came to see what it was.\nThe Puck-wud-jinnies especially made themselves very merry, capering\nbehind its great ears, sitting within its mouth, each perched upon a\ntooth, and running in and out of the sockets of the eyes, thinking\nChemanitou, who was finishing off other parts of the animal, would not\nsee them.\n\nBut he can see right through everything he has made. He was glad to\nsee the Puck-wud-jinnies so lively, and he bethought him of many new\ncreations while he watched their motions.\n\nWhen the Master of Life had completed this large animal, he was\nfearful to give it life, and so it was left upon the island, or\nwork-table of Chemanitou, till its great weight caused it to break\nthrough, and, sinking partly down, it stuck fast, the head and tail\nholding it in such a manner as to prevent it slipping further down.\n\nChemanitou then lifted up a piece of the back, and found it made a\nvery good cavity, into which the old creations which failed to please\nhim might be thrown.\n\nHe sometimes amused himself by making creatures very small and active,\nwith which he disported awhile, and finding them of very little use in\nthe world, and not so attractive as the little vanishers, he would\ntake out the life, taking it to himself, and then cast them into the\ncave made in the body of the unfinished animal.\n\nIn this way great quantities of very odd shapes were heaped together\nin this Roncomcomon, or Place of Fragments.\n\nHe was always careful before casting a thing he had created aside to\ntake out the life.\n\nOne day the Master of Life took two pieces of clay and moulded them\ninto two large feet, like those of a panther. He did not make\nfour--there were two only.\n\nHe put his own feet into them, and found the tread very light and\nspringy, so that he might go with great speed and yet make no noise.\n\nNext he built up a pair of very tall legs, in the shape of his own,\nand made them walk about a while. He was pleased with the motion. Then\nfollowed a round body covered with large scales, like those of the\nalligator.\n\nHe now found the figure doubling forward, and he fastened a long\nblack snake, that was gliding by, to the back part of the body, and\nwound the other end round a sapling which grew near, and this held the\nbody upright, and made a very good tail.\n\nThe shoulders were broad and strong, like those of the buffalo, and\ncovered with hair. The neck thick and short, and full at the back.\n\nThus far Chemanitou had worked with little thought, but when he came\nto the head he thought a long while.\n\nHe took a round ball of clay into his lap, and worked it over with\ngreat care. While he thought, he patted the ball of clay upon the top,\nwhich made it very broad and low, for Chemanitou was thinking of the\npanther feet and the buffalo neck. He remembered the Puck-wud-jinnies\nplaying in the eye sockets of the great unfinished animal, and he\nbethought him to set the eyes out, like those of a lobster, so that\nthe animal might see on every side.\n\nHe made the forehead broad and full, but low, for here was to be the\nwisdom of the forked tongue, like that of the serpent, which should be\nin its mouth. It should see all things and know all things. Here\nChemanitou stopped, for he saw that he had never thought of such a\ncreation before, one with two feet--a creature that should stand\nupright, and see upon every side.\n\nThe jaws were very strong, with ivory teeth and gills upon either\nside, which rose and fell whenever breath passed through them. The\nnose was like the beak of the vulture. A tuft of porcupine-quills made\nthe scalp lock.\n\nChemanitou held the head out the length of his arm, and turned it\nfirst upon one side and then upon the other. He passed it rapidly\nthrough the air, and saw the gills rise and fall, the lobster eyes\nwhirl round, and the vulture nose look keen.\n\nChemanitou became very sad, yet he put the head upon the shoulders. It\nwas the first time he had made an upright figure. It seemed to be the\nfirst idea of a man.\n\nIt was now nearly right. The bats were flying through the air, and the\nroar of wild beasts began to be heard. A gusty wind swept in from the\nocean and passed over the island of Metowac, casting the light sand to\nand fro. A wavy scud was skimming along the horizon, while higher up\nin the sky was a dark thick cloud, upon the verge of which the moon\nhung for a moment and was then shut in.\n\nA panther came by and stayed a moment, with one foot raised and bent\ninward, while it looked up at the image and smelt the feet that were\nlike its own.\n\nA vulture swooped down with a great noise of its wings, and made a\ndash at the beak, but Chemanitou held it back.\n\nThen came the porcupine, the lizard, and the snake, each drawn by its\nkind in the image.\n\nChemanitou veiled his face for many hours, and the gusty wind swept\nby, but he did not stir.\n\nHe saw that every beast of the earth seeks its kind, and that which\nis like draws its likeness to itself.\n\nThe Master of Life thought and thought. The idea grew into his mind\nthat at some time he would create a creature who should be made, not\nafter the things of the earth, but after himself.\n\nThe being should link this world to the spirit world, being made in\nthe likeness of the Great Spirit, he should be drawn unto his\nlikeness.\n\nMany days and nights--whole seasons--passed while Chemanitou thought\nupon these things. He saw all things.\n\nThen the Master of Life lifted up his head. The stars were looking\ndown upon the image, and a bat had alighted upon the forehead,\nspreading its great wings upon each side. Chemanitou took the bat and\nheld out its whole leathery wings (and ever since the bat, when he\nrests, lets his body hang down), so that he could try them over the\nhead of the image. He then took the life of the bat away, and twisted\noff the body, by which means the whole thin part fell down over the\nhead of the image and upon each side, making the ears, and a covering\nfor the forehead like that of the hooded serpent.\n\nChemanitou did not cut off the face of the image below, but went on\nand made a chin and lips that were firm and round, that they might\nshut in the forked tongue and ivory teeth, and he knew that with the\nlips the image would smile when life should be given to it.\n\nThe image was now complete save for the arms, and Chemanitou saw that\nit was necessary it should have hands. He grew more grave.\n\nHe had never given hands to any creature. He made the arms and the\nhands very beautiful, after the manner of his own.\n\nChemanitou now took no pleasure in the work he had done. It was not\ngood in his sight.\n\nHe wished he had not given it hands. Might it not, when trusted with\nlife, create? Might it not thwart the plans of the Master of Life\nhimself?\n\nHe looked long at the image. He saw what it would do when life should\nbe given it. He knew all things.\n\nHe now put fire in the image, but fire is not life.\n\nHe put fire within and a red glow passed through and through it. The\nfire dried the clay of which the image was made, and gave the image an\nexceedingly fierce aspect. It shone through the scales upon the\nbreast, through the gills, and the bat-winged ears. The lobster eyes\nwere like a living coal.\n\nChemanitou opened the side of the image, but he did not enter. He had\ngiven it hands and a chin.\n\nIt could smile like the manitoes themselves.\n\nHe made it walk all about the island of Metowac, that he might see how\nit would act. This he did by means of his will.\n\nHe now put a little life into it, but he did not take out the fire.\nChemanitou saw the aspect of the creature would be very terrible, and\nyet that it could smile in such a manner that it ceased to be ugly.\nHe thought much upon these things. He felt that it would not be best\nto let such a creature live--a creature made up mostly from the beasts\nof the field, but with hands of power, a chin lifting the head upward,\nand lips holding all things within themselves.\n\nWhile he thought upon these things he took the image in his hands and\ncast it into the cave. But Chemanitou forgot to take out the life.\n\nThe creature lay a long time in the cave and did not stir, for its\nfall was very great. It lay amongst the old creations that had been\nthrown in there without life.\n\nNow when a long time had passed Chemanitou heard a great noise in the\ncave. He looked in and saw the image sitting there, and it was trying\nto put together the old broken things that had been cast in as of no\nvalue.\n\nChemanitou gathered together a vast heap of stones and sand, for large\nrocks are not to be had upon the island, and stopped the mouth of the\ncave. Many days passed and the noise within the cave grew louder. The\nearth shook, and hot smoke came from the ground. The manitoes crowded\nto Metowac to see what was the matter.\n\nChemanitou came also, for he remembered the image he had cast in there\nof which he had forgotten to take away the life.\n\nSuddenly there was a great rising of the stones and sand, the sky grew\nblack with wind and dust. Fire played about on the ground, and water\ngushed high into the air.\n\nAll the manitoes fled with fear, and the image came forth with a great\nnoise and most terrible to behold. Its life had grown strong within\nit, for the fire had made it very fierce.\n\nEverything fled before it and cried--\n\n\"Machinitou! machinitou,\" which means a god, but an evil god.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOMAN OF STONE.\n\n\nIn one of the niches or recesses formed by a precipice in the cavern\nof Kickapoo Creek, which is a tributary of the Wisconsin, there is a\ngigantic mass of stone presenting the appearance of a human figure. It\nis so sheltered by the overhanging rocks and by the sides of the\nrecess in which it stands as to assume a dark and gloomy character. Of\nthe figure the following legend is related:--\n\nOnce upon a time there lived a woman who was called Shenanska, or the\nWhite Buffalo Robe. She was an inhabitant of the prairie, a dweller in\nthe cabins which stand upon the verge of the hills. She was the pride\nof her people, not only for her beauty, which was very great, but for\nher goodness. The breath of the summer wind was not milder than the\ntemper of Shenanska, the face of the sun was not fairer than her\ncountenance.\n\nAt length the tribe was surprised in its encampment on the banks of\nthe Kickapoo by a numerous band of the fierce Mengwe. Many of them\nfell fighting bravely, the greater part of the women and children were\nmade prisoners, and the others fled to the wilds for safety. It was\nthe fortune of Shenanska to escape from death or captivity. When the\nalarm of the war-whoop reached her ear as she was sleeping in her\nlodge with her husband, she had rushed forth with him and gone with\nthe braves to meet their assailants. When she saw half of the men of\nher nation lying dead around, then she fled. She had been wounded in\nthe battle, but she still succeeded in effecting her escape to the\nhills. Weakened by loss of blood, she had not strength enough left to\nhunt for a supply of food, and she was near perishing with hunger.\n\nWhile she lay beneath the shade of a tree there came to her a being\nnot of this world.\n\n\"Shenanska,\" said he, in a gentle voice, \"thou art wounded and hungry,\nshall I heal thee and feed thee? Wilt thou return to the lands of thy\ntribe and live to be old, a widow and alone, or go now to the land of\ndeparted spirits and join the shade of thy husband? The choice is\nthine. If thou wilt live, crippled, and bowed down by wounds and\ndisease, thou mayest. If it would please thee better to rejoin thy\nfriends in the country beyond the Great River, say so.\"\n\nShenanska replied that she wished to die. The spirit took her, and\nplaced her in one of the recesses of the cavern, overshadowed by\nhanging rocks. He then spoke some words in a low voice, and, breathing\non her, she became stone. Determined that a woman so good and\nbeautiful should not be forgotten by the world, he made her into a\nstatue, to which he gave the power of killing suddenly any one who\nirreverently approached it. For a long time the statue relentlessly\nexercised this power. Many an unconscious Indian, venturing too near\nto it, fell dead without any perceptible wound. At length, tired of\nthe havoc the statue made, the guardian spirit took away the power he\nhad given to it. At this day the statue may be approached with safety,\nbut the Indians hold it in fear, not intruding rashly upon it, and\nwhen in its presence treating it with great respect.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAIDEN WHO LOVED A FISH.\n\n\nThere was once among the Marshpees, a small tribe who have their\nhunting-grounds on the shores of the Great Lake, near the Cape of\nStorms, a woman whose name was Awashanks. She was rather silly, and\nvery idle. For days together she would sit doing nothing. Then she was\nso ugly and ill-shaped that not one of the youths of the village would\nhave aught to say to her by way of courtship or marriage. She squinted\nvery much; her face was long and thin, her nose excessively large and\nhumped, her teeth crooked and projecting, her chin almost as sharp as\nthe bill of a loon, and her ears as large as those of a deer.\nAltogether she was a very odd and strangely formed woman, and wherever\nshe went she never failed to excite much laughter and derision among\nthose who thought that ugliness and deformity were fit subjects for\nridicule.\n\nThough so very ugly, there was one faculty she possessed in a more\nremarkable degree than any woman of the tribe. It was that of singing.\nNothing, unless such could be found in the land of spirits, could\nequal the sweetness of her voice or the beauty of her songs. Her\nfavourite place of resort was a small hill, a little removed from the\nriver of her people, and there, seated beneath the shady trees, she\nwould while away the hours of summer with her charming songs. So\nbeautiful and melodious were the things she uttered, that, by the time\nshe had sung a single sentence, the branches above her head would be\nfilled with the birds that came thither to listen, the thickets around\nher would be crowded with beasts, and the waters rolling beside her\nwould be alive with fishes, all attracted by the sweet sounds. From\nthe minnow to the porpoise, from the wren to the eagle, from the snail\nto the lobster, from the mouse to the mole,--all hastened to the spot\nto listen to the charming songs of the hideous Marshpee maiden.\n\nAmong the fishes which repaired every night to the vicinity of the\nLittle Hillock, which was the chosen resting-place of the ugly\nsongstress, was the great chief of the trouts, a tribe of fish\ninhabiting the river near by. The chief was of a far greater size than\nthe people of his nation usually are, being as long as a man, and\nquite as thick.\n\nOf all the creatures which came to listen to the singing of Awashanks\nnone appeared to enjoy it so highly as the chief of the trouts. As his\nbulk prevented him from approaching so near as he wished, he, from\ntime to time, in his eagerness to enjoy the music to the best\nadvantage, ran his nose into the ground, and thus worked his way a\nconsiderable distance into the land. Nightly he continued his\nexertions to approach the source of the delightful sounds he heard,\ntill at length he had ploughed out a wide and handsome channel, and so\neffected his passage from the river to the hill, a distance extending\nan arrow's-flight. Thither he repaired every night at the commencement\nof darkness, sure to meet the maiden who had become so necessary to\nhis happiness. Soon he began to speak of the pleasure he enjoyed, and\nto fill the ears of Awashanks with fond protestations of his love and\naffection. Instead of singing to him, she soon began to listen to his\nvoice. It was something so new and strange to her to hear the tones of\nlove and courtship, a thing so unusual to be told she was beautiful,\nthat it is not wonderful her head was turned by the new incident, and\nthat she began to think the voice of her lover the sweetest she had\never heard. One thing marred their happiness. This was that the trout\ncould not live upon land, nor the maiden in the water. This state of\nthings gave them much sorrow.\n\nThey had met one evening at the usual place, and were discoursing\ntogether, lamenting that two who loved one another so should be doomed\nto always live apart, when a man appeared close to Awashanks. He asked\nthe lovers why they seemed to be so sad.\n\nThe chief of the trouts told the stranger the cause of their sorrow.\n\n\"Be not grieved nor hopeless,\" said the stranger, when the chief had\nfinished. \"The impediments can be removed. I am the spirit who\npresides over fishes, and though I cannot make a man or woman of a\nfish, I can make them into fish. Under my power Awashanks shall become\na beautiful trout.\"\n\nWith that he bade the girl follow him into the river. When they had\nwaded in some little depth he took up some water in his hand and\npoured it on her head, muttering some words, of which none but himself\nknew the meaning. Immediately a change took place in her. Her body\ntook the form of a fish, and in a few moments she was a complete\ntrout. Having accomplished this transformation the spirit gave her to\nthe chief of the trouts, and the pair glided off into the deep and\nquiet waters. She did not, however, forget the land of her birth.\nEvery season, on the same night as that upon which her disappearance\nfrom her tribe had been wrought, there were to be seen two trouts of\nenormous size playing in the water off the shore. They continued these\nvisits till the pale-faces came to the country, when, deeming\nthemselves to be in danger from a people who paid no reverence to the\nspirits of the land, they bade it adieu for ever.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LONE LIGHTNING.\n\n\nA little orphan boy, who had no one to care for him, once lived with\nhis uncle, who treated him very badly, making him do hard work, and\ngiving him very little to eat, so that the boy pined away and never\ngrew much, but became, through hard usage, very thin and light. At\nlast the uncle pretended to be ashamed of this treatment, and\ndetermined to make amends for it by fattening the boy up. He really\nwished, however, to kill him by overfeeding him. He told his wife to\ngive the boy plenty of bear's meat, and let him have the fat, which is\nthought to be the best part. They were both very assiduous in cramming\nhim, and one day nearly choked him to death by forcing the fat down\nhis throat. The boy escaped, and fled from the lodge. He knew not\nwhere to go, and wandered about. When night came on he was afraid the\nwild beasts would eat him, so he climbed up into the forks of a high\npine-tree, and there he fell asleep in the branches.\n\nAs he was asleep a person appeared to him from the high sky, and\nsaid--\n\n\"My poor lad, I pity you, and the bad usage you have received from\nyour uncle has led me to visit you. Follow me, and step in my tracks.\"\n\nImmediately his sleep left him, and he rose up and followed his guide,\nmounting up higher and higher in the air until he reached the lofty\nsky. Here twelve arrows were put into his hands, and he was told that\nthere were a great many manitoes in the northern sky, against whom he\nmust go to war and try to waylay and shoot them. Accordingly he went\nto that part of the sky, and, at long intervals, shot arrow after\narrow until he had expended eleven in a vain attempt to kill the\nmanitoes. At the flight of each arrow there was a long and solitary\nstreak of lightning in the sky--then all was clear again, and not a\ncloud or spot could be seen. The twelfth arrow he held a long time in\nhis hands, and looked around keenly on every side to spy the manitoes\nhe was after, but these manitoes were very cunning, and could change\ntheir form in a moment. All they feared was the boy's arrows, for\nthese were magic weapons, which had been given to him by a good\nspirit, and had power to kill if aimed aright. At length the boy drew\nup his last arrow, took aim, and let fly, as he thought, into the very\nheart of the chief of the manitoes. Before the arrow reached him,\nhowever, he changed himself into a rock, into which the head of the\narrow sank deep and stuck fast.\n\n\"Now your gifts are all expended,\" cried the enraged manito, \"and I\nwill make an example of your audacity and pride of heart for lifting\nyour bow against me.\"\n\nSo saying, he transformed the boy into the Nazhik-a-wae wae sun, or Lone\nLightning, which may be observed in the northern sky to this day.\n\n\n\n\nAGGO-DAH-GAUDA.\n\n\nAggo-dah-gauda had one leg hooped up to his thigh so that he was\nobliged to get along by hopping. He had a beautiful daughter, and his\nchief care was to secure her from being carried off by the king of the\nbuffaloes. He was peculiar in his habits, and lived in a loghouse, and\nhe advised his daughter to keep indoors, and never go out for fear she\nshould be stolen away.\n\nOne sunshiny morning Aggo-dah-gauda prepared to go out fishing, but\nbefore he left the lodge he reminded his daughter of her strange\nlover.\n\n\"My daughter,\" said he, \"I am going out to fish, and as the day will\nbe a pleasant one, you must recollect that we have an enemy near who\nis constantly going about, and so you must not leave the lodge.\"\n\nWhen he reached his fishing-place, he heard a voice singing--\n\n    \"Man with the leg tied up,\n    Man with the leg tied up,\n        Broken hip--hip--\n                  Hipped.\n\n    Man with the leg tied up,\n    Man with the leg tied up,\n        Broken leg--leg--\n                  Legged.\"\n\nHe looked round but saw no one, so he suspected the words were sung by\nhis enemies the buffaloes, and hastened home.\n\nThe girl's father had not been long absent from the lodge when she\nbegan to think to herself--\n\n\"It is hard to be for ever kept indoors. The spring is coming on, and\nthe days are so sunny and warm, that it would be very pleasant to sit\nout of doors. My father says it is dangerous. I know what I will do: I\nwill get on the top of the house, and there I can comb and dress my\nhair.\"\n\nShe accordingly got up on the roof of the small house, and busied\nherself in untying and combing her beautiful hair, which was not only\nfine and shining, but so long that it reached down to the ground,\nhanging over the eaves of the house as she combed it. She was so\nintent upon this that she forgot all ideas of danger. All of a sudden\nthe king of the buffaloes came dashing by with his herd of followers,\nand, taking her between his horns, away he cantered over the plains,\nand then, plunging into a river that bounded his land, he carried her\nsafely to his lodge on the other side. Here he paid her every\nattention in order to gain her affections, but all to no purpose, for\nshe sat pensive and disconsolate in the lodge among the other females,\nand scarcely ever spoke. The buffalo king did all he could to please\nher, and told the others in the lodge to give her everything she\nwanted, and to study her in every way. They set before her the\nchoicest food, and gave her the seat of honour in the lodge. The king\nhimself went out hunting to obtain the most delicate bits of meat both\nof animals and wild-fowl, and, not content with these proofs of his\nlove, he fasted himself and would often take his pib-be-gwun (Indian\nflute) and sit near the lodge singing--\n\n    \"My sweetheart,\n    My sweetheart,\n            Ah me!\n\n    When I think of you,\n    When I think of you,\n            Ah me!\n\n    How I love you,\n    How I love you,\n            Ah me!\n\n    Do not hate me,\n    Do not hate me,\n            Ah me!\"\n\nIn the meantime Aggo-dah-gauda came home, and finding his daughter had\nbeen stolen he determined to get her back. For this purpose he\nimmediately set out. He could easily trace the king till he came to\nthe banks of the river, and then he saw he had plunged in and swum\nover. When Aggo-dah-gauda came to the river, however, he found it\ncovered with a thin coating of ice, so that he could not swim across\nnor walk over. He therefore determined to wait on the bank a day or\ntwo till the ice might melt or become strong enough to bear him. Very\nsoon the ice was strong enough, and Aggo-dah-gauda crossed over. On\nthe other side, as he went along, he found branches torn off and cast\ndown, and these had been strewn thus by his daughter to aid him in\nfollowing her. The way in which she managed it was this. Her hair was\nall untied when she was captured, and as she was carried along it\ncaught in the branches as she passed, so she took the pieces out of\nher hair and threw them down on the path.\n\nWhen Aggo-dah-gauda came to the king's lodge it was evening. Carefully\napproaching it, he peeped through the sides and saw his daughter\nsitting there disconsolately. She saw him, and knowing that it was her\nfather come for her, she said to the king, giving him a tender\nglance--\n\n\"I will go and get you a drink of water.\"\n\nThe king was delighted at what he thought was a mark of her affection,\nand the girl left the lodge with a dipper in her hand. The king waited\na long time for her, and as she did not return he went out with his\nfollowers, but nothing could be seen or heard of the girl. The\nbuffaloes sallied out into the plains, and had not gone far by the\nlight of the moon, when they were attacked by a party of hunters. Many\nof them fell, but the buffalo-king, being stronger and swifter than\nthe others, escaped, and, flying to the west, was never seen more.\n\n\n\n\nPIQUA.\n\n\nA great while ago the Shawanos nation took up the war-talk against the\nWalkullas, who lived on their own lands on the borders of the Great\nSalt Lake, and near the Burning Water. Part of the nation were not\nwell pleased with the war. The head chief and the counsellors said the\nWalkullas were very brave and cunning, and the priests said their god\nwas mightier than ours. The old and experienced warriors said the\ncounsellors were wise, and had spoken well; but the Head Buffalo, the\nyoung warriors, and all who wished for war, would not listen to their\nwords. They said that our fathers had beaten their fathers in many\nbattles, that the Shawanos were as brave and strong as they ever were,\nand the Walkullas much weaker and more cowardly. They said the old and\ntimid, the faint heart and the failing knee, might stay at home to\ntake care of the women and children, and sleep and dream of those who\nhad never dared bend a bow or look upon a painted cheek or listen to a\nwar-whoop, while the young warriors went to war and drank much blood.\nWhen two moons were gone they said they would come back with many\nprisoners and scalps, and have a great feast. The arguments of the\nfiery young men prevailed with all the youthful warriors, but the\nelder and wiser listened to the priests and counsellors, and remained\nin their villages to see the leaf fall and the grass grow, and to\ngather in the nut and follow the trail of the deer.\n\nTwo moons passed, then a third, then came the night enlivened by many\nstars, but the warriors returned not. As the land of the Walkullas lay\nbut a woman's journey of six suns from the villages of our nation, our\npeople began to fear that our young men had been overcome in battle\nand were all slain. The head chief, the counsellors, and all the\nwarriors who had remained behind, came together in the great wigwam,\nand called the priests to tell them where their sons were. Chenos, who\nwas the wisest of them all (as well he might be, for he was older than\nthe oak-tree whose top dies by the hand of Time), answered that they\nwere killed by their enemies, the Walkullas, assisted by men of a\nstrange speech and colour, who lived beyond the Great Salt Lake,\nfought with thunder and lightning, and came to our enemies on the back\nof a great bird with many white wings. When he had thus made known to\nour people the fate of the warriors there was a dreadful shout of\nhorror throughout the village. The women wept aloud, and the men\nsprang up and seized their bows and arrows to go to war with the\nWalkullas and the strange warriors who had helped to slay their sons,\nbut Chenos bade them sit down again.\n\n\"There is one yet living,\" said he. \"He will soon be here. The sound\nof his footsteps is in my ear as he crosses the hollow hills. He has\nkilled many of his enemies; he has glutted his vengeance fully; he has\ndrunk blood in plenteous draughts. Long he fought with the men of his\nown race, and many fell before him, but he fled from the men who came\nto the battle armed with the real lightning, and hurling unseen death.\nEven now I see him coming; the shallow streams he has forded; the deep\nrivers he has swum. He is tired and hungry, and his quiver has no\narrows, but he brings a prisoner in his arms. Lay the deer's flesh on\nthe fire, and bring hither the pounded corn. Taunt him not, for he is\nvaliant, and has fought like a hungry bear.\"\n\nAs the wise Chenos spoke these words to the grey-bearded counsellors\nand warriors the Head Buffalo walked calm and cool into the midst of\nthem. There he stood, tall and straight as a young pine, but he spoke\nno word, looking on the head chief and the counsellors. There was\nblood upon his body, dried on by the sun, and the arm next his heart\nwas bound up with the skin of the deer. His eye was hollow and his\nbody gaunt, as though he had fasted long. His quiver held no arrows.\n\n\"Where are our sons?\" inquired the head chief of the warrior.\n\n\"Ask the wolf and the panther,\" he answered.\n\n\"Brother! tell us where are our sons!\" exclaimed the chief. \"Our\nwomen ask us for their sons. They want them. Where are they?\"\n\n\"Where are the snows of last year?\" replied the warrior. \"Have they\nnot gone down the swelling river into the Great Lake? They have, and\neven so have your sons descended the stream of Time into the great\nLake of Death. The great star sees them as they lie by the water of\nthe Walkulla, but they see him not. The panther and the wolf howl\nunheeded at their feet, and the eagle screams, but they hear them not.\nThe vulture whets his beak on their bones, the wild-cat rends their\nflesh, both are unfelt, for your sons are dead.\"\n\nWhen the warrior told these things to our people, they set up their\nloud death-howl. The women wept; but the men sprang up and seized\ntheir weapons, to go to meet the Walkullas, the slayers of their sons.\nThe chief warrior rose again--\n\n\"Fathers and warriors,\" said he, \"hear me and believe my words, for I\nwill tell you the truth. Who ever heard the Head Buffalo lie, and who\never saw him afraid of his enemies? Never, since the time that he\nchewed the bitter root and put on the new moccasins, has he lied or\nfled from his foes. He has neither a forked tongue nor a faint heart.\nFathers, the Walkullas are weaker than us. Their arms are not so\nstrong, their hearts are not so big, as ours. As well might the timid\ndeer make war upon the hungry wolf, as the Walkullas upon the\nShawanos. We could slay them as easily as a hawk pounces into a dove's\nnest and steals away her unfeathered little ones. The Head Buffalo\nalone could have taken the scalps of half the nation. But a strange\ntribe has come among them--men whose skin is white as the folds of the\ncloud, and whose hair shines like the great star of day. They do not\nfight as we fight, with bows and arrows and with war-axes, but with\nspears which thunder and lighten, and send unseen death. The Shawanos\nfall before it as the berries and acorns fall when the forest is\nshaken by the wind in the beaver-moon. Look at the arm nearest my\nheart. It was stricken by a bolt from the strangers' thunder; but he\nfell by the hands of the Head Buffalo, who fears nothing but shame,\nand his scalp lies at the feet of the head chief.\n\n\"Fathers, this was our battle. We came upon the Walkullas, I and my\nbrothers, when they were unprepared. They were just going to hold the\ndance of the green corn. The whole nation had come to the dance; there\nwere none left behind save the sick and the very old. None were\npainted; they were all for peace, and were as women. We crept close to\nthem, and hid in the thick bushes which grew upon the edge of their\ncamp, for the Shawanos are the cunning adder and not the foolish\nrattlesnake. We saw them preparing to offer a sacrifice to the Great\nSpirit. We saw them clean the deer, and hang his head, horns, and\nentrails upon the great white pole with a forked top, which stood over\nthe roof of the council wigwam. They did not know that the Master of\nLife had sent the Shawanos to mix blood with the sacrifices. We saw\nthem take the new corn and rub it upon their hands, breasts, and\nfaces. Then the head chief, having first thanked the Master of Life\nfor his goodness to the Walkullas, got up and gave his brethren a\ntalk. He told them that the Great Spirit loved them, and had made them\nvictorious over all their enemies; that he had sent a great many fat\nbears, deer, and moose to their hunting-ground, and had given them\nfish, whose heads were very small and bodies very big; that he had\nmade their corn grow tall and sweet, and had ordered his suns to ripen\nit in the beginning of the harvest moon, that they might make a great\nfeast for the strangers who had come from a far country on the wings\nof a great bird to warm themselves at the Walkullas' fire. He told\nthem they must love the Great Spirit, take care of the old men, tell\nno lies, and never break the faith of the pipe of peace; that they\nmust not harm the strangers, for they were their brothers, but must\nlive in peace with them, and give them lands and wives from among\ntheir women. If they did these things the Great Spirit, he said, would\nmake their corn grow taller than ever, and direct them to\nhunting-grounds where the moose should be as thick as the stars.\n\n\"Fathers and warriors, we heard these words; but we knew not what to\ndo. We feared not the Walkullas; the God of War, we saw, had given\nthem into our hands. But who were the strange tribe? Were they armed\nas we were, and was their Great Medicine (Great Spirit) like ours?\nWarriors, you all knew the Young Eagle, the son of the Old Eagle, who\nis here with us; but his wings are feeble, he flies no more to the\nfield of blood. The Young Eagle feared nothing but shame, and he\nsaid--\n\n\"'I see many men sit round a fire, I will go and see who they are!'\n\n\"He went. The Old Eagle looks at me as if he would say, 'Why went not\nthe chief warrior himself?' I will tell you. The Head Buffalo is a\nhead taller than the tallest man of his tribe. Can the moose crawl\ninto the fox's hole? Can the swan hide himself under a little leaf?\nThe Young Eagle was little, save in his soul. He was not full-grown,\nsave in his heart. He could go and not be seen or heard. He was the\ncunning black-snake which creeps silently in the grass, and none\nthinks him near till he strikes.\n\n\"He came back and told us there were many strange men a little way\nbefore us whose faces were white, and who wore no skins, whose cabins\nwere white as the snow upon the Backbone of the Great Spirit (the\nAlleghany Mountains), flat at the top, and moving with the wind like\nthe reeds on the bank of a river; that they did not talk like the\nWalkullas, but spoke a strange tongue, the like of which he had never\nheard before. Many of our warriors would have turned back to our own\nlands. The Flying Squirrel said it was not cowardice to do so; but the\nHead Buffalo never turns till he has tasted the blood of his foes. The\nYoung Eagle said he had eaten the bitter root and put on the new\nmoccasins, and had been made a man, and his father and the warriors\nwould cry shame on him if he took no scalp. Both he and the Head\nBuffalo said they would go and attack the Walkullas and their friends\nalone. The young warriors then said they would also go to the battle,\nand with a great heart, as their fathers had done. Then the Shawanos\nrushed upon their foes.\n\n\"The Walkullas fell before us like rain in the summer months. We were\nas a fire among rushes. We went upon them when they were unprepared,\nwhen they were as children; and for a while the Great Spirit gave them\ninto our hands. But a power rose up against us that we could not\nwithstand. The strange men came upon us armed with thunder and\nlightning. Why delays my tongue to tell its story? Fathers, your sons\nhave fallen like the leaves of a forest-tree in a high wind, like the\nflowers of spring after a frost, like drops of rain in the sturgeon\nmoon! Warriors, the sprouts which sprang up from the withered oaks\nhave perished, the young braves of our nation lie food for the eagle\nand the wild-cat by the arm of the Great Lake!\n\n\"Fathers, the bolt from the strangers' thunder entered my flesh, yet I\ndid not fly. These six scalps I tore from the Walkullas, but this has\nyellow hair. Have I done well?\"\n\nThe head chief and the counsellors answered he had done very well, but\nChenos answered--\n\n\"No. You went into the Walkullas' camp when the tribe were feasting\nto the Great Spirit, and you disturbed the sacrifice, and mixed human\nblood with it. Therefore has this evil come upon us, for the Great\nSpirit is very angry.\"\n\nThen the head chief and the counsellors asked Chenos what must be done\nto appease the Master of Breath.\n\nChenos answered--\n\n\"The Head Buffalo, with the morning, will offer to him that which he\nholds dearest.\"\n\nThe Head Buffalo looked upon the priests, and said--\n\n\"The Head Buffalo fears the Great Spirit. He will kill a deer, and, in\nthe morning, it shall be burned to the Great Spirit.\"\n\nChenos said to him--\n\n\"You have told the council how the battle was fought and who fell; you\nhave shown the spent quiver and the scalps, but you have not spoken of\nyour prisoner. The Great Spirit keeps nothing hid from his priests, of\nwhom Chenos is one. He has told me you have a prisoner, one with\ntender feet and a trembling heart.\"\n\n\"Let any one say the Head Buffalo ever lied,\" replied the warrior. \"He\nnever spoke but truth. He has a prisoner, a woman taken from the\nstrange camp, a daughter of the sun, a maiden from the happy islands\nwhich no Shawano has ever seen, and she shall live with me, and become\nthe mother of my children.\"\n\n\"Where is she?\" asked the head chief.\n\n\"She sits on the bank of the river at the bend where we dug up the\nbones of the great beast, beneath the tree which the Master of Breath\nshivered with his lightnings. I placed her there because the spot is\nsacred, and none dare disturb her. I will go and fetch her to the\ncouncil fire, but let no one touch her or show anger, for she is\nfearful as a young deer, and weeps like a child for its mother.\"\n\nSoon he returned, and brought with him a woman. She shook like a reed\nin the winter's wind, and many tears ran down her cheeks. The men sat\nas though their tongues were frozen. Was she beautiful? Go forth to\nthe forest when it is clothed with the flowers of spring, look at the\ntall maize when it waves in the wind, and ask if they are beautiful.\nHer skin was white as the snow which falls upon the mountains beyond\nour lands, save upon her cheeks, where it was red,--not such red as\nthe Indian paints when he goes to war, but such as the Master of Life\ngives to the flower which grows among thorns. Her eyes shone like the\nstar which never moves. Her step was like that of the deer when it is\na little scared.\n\nThe Head Buffalo said to the council--\n\n\"This is my prisoner. I fought hard for her. Three warriors, tall,\nstrong, and painted, three pale men, armed with red lightning, stood\nat her side. Where are they now? I bore her away in my arms, for fear\nhad overcome her. When night came on I wrapped skins around her, and\nlaid her under the leafy branches of the tree to keep off the cold,\nand kindled a fire, and watched by her till the sun rose. Who will\nsay she shall not live with the Head Buffalo, and be the mother of his\nchildren?\"\n\nThen the Old Eagle got up, but he could not walk strong, for he was\nthe oldest warrior of his tribe, and had seen the flowers bloom many\ntimes, the infant trees of the forest die of old age, and the friends\nof his boyhood laid in the dust. He went to the woman, laid his hands\non her head, and wept. The other warriors, who had lost their kindred\nand sons in the war with the Walkullas, shouted and lamented. The\nwoman also wept.\n\n\"Where is the Young Eagle?\" asked the Old Eagle of the Head Buffalo.\nThe other warriors, in like manner, asked for their kindred who had\nbeen killed.\n\n\"Fathers, they are dead,\" answered the warrior. \"The Head Buffalo has\nsaid they are dead, and he never lies. But let my fathers take\ncomfort. Who can live for ever? The foot of the swift step and the\nhand of the stout bow become feeble. The eye grows dim, and the heart\nof many days quails at the fierce glance of warriors. 'Twas better\nthey should die like brave men in their youth than become old men and\nfaint.\"\n\n\"We must have revenge,\" they all cried. \"We will not listen to the\nyoung warrior who pines for the daughter of the sun.\"\n\nThen they began to sing a mournful song. The strange woman wept. Tears\nrolled down her cheeks, and she often looked up to the house of the\nGreat Spirit and spoke, but none could understand her. All the time\nthe Old Eagle and the other warriors begged that she should be burned\nto revenge them.\n\n\"Brothers and warriors,\" said Chenos, \"our sons did wrong when they\nbroke in upon the sacred dance the Walkullas made to their god, and he\nlent his thunder to the strange warriors. Let us not draw down his\nvengeance further by doing we know not what. Let the beautiful woman\nremain this night in the wigwam of the council, covered with skins,\nand let none disturb her. To-morrow we will offer a sacrifice of\ndeer's flesh to the Great Spirit, and if he will not give her to the\nraging fire and the torments of the avengers, he will tell us so by\nthe words of his mouth. If he does not speak, it shall be done to her\nas the Old Eagle and his brothers have said.\"\n\nThe head chief said--\n\n\"Chenos has spoken well; wisdom is in his words. Make for the strange\nwoman a soft bed of skins, and treat her kindly, for it may be she is\na daughter of the Great Spirit.\"\n\nThen they all returned to their cabins and slept, save the Head\nBuffalo, who, fearing for the woman's life, laid himself down at the\ndoor of the lodge, and watched.\n\nWhen the morning came the warrior went to the forest and killed a deer\nwhich he brought to Chenos, who prepared it for a sacrifice, and sang\na song while the flesh lay on the fire.\n\n\"Let us listen,\" said Chenos, stopping the warriors in their dance.\n\"Let us see if the Great Spirit hears us.\"\n\nThey listened, but could hear nothing. Chenos asked him why he did not\nspeak, but he did not answer. Then they sang again.\n\n\"Hush!\" said Chenos listening. \"I hear the crowing of the Great\nTurkey-cock. I hear him speaking.\"\n\nThey stopped, and Chenos went close to the fire and talked with his\nmaster, but nobody saw with whom he talked.\n\n\"What does the Great Spirit tell his prophet?\" asked the head chief.\n\n\"He says,\" answered Chenos, \"the young woman must not be offered to\nhim. He wills her to live and become the mother of many children.\"\n\nMany were pleased that she was to live, but those who had lost\nbrothers or sons were not appeased, and they said--\n\n\"We will have blood. We will go to the priest of the Evil Spirit, and\nask him if his master will not give us revenge.\"\n\nNot far from where our nation had their council fire was a great hill,\ncovered with stunted trees and moss, and rugged rocks. There was a\ngreat cave in it, in which dwelt Sketupah, the priest of the Evil One,\nwho there did worship to his master. Sketupah would have been tall had\nhe been straight, but he was more crooked than a bent bow. His hair\nwas like a bunch of grapes, and his eyes like two coals of fire. Many\nwere the gifts our nation made to him to gain his favour, and the\nfavour of his master. Who but he feasted on the fattest buffalo hump?\nWho but he fed on the earliest ear of milky corn, on the best things\nthat grew on the land or in the water?\n\nThe Old Eagle went to the mouth of the cave and cried with a loud\nvoice--\n\n\"Sketupah!\"\n\n\"Sketupah!\" answered the hoarse voice of the Evil One from the hollow\ncave. He soon came and asked the Old Eagle what he wanted.\n\n\"Revenge for our sons who have been killed by the Walkullas and their\nfriends. Will your master hear us?\"\n\n\"My master must have a sacrifice; he must smell blood,\" answered\nSketupah. \"Then we shall know if he will give revenge. Bring hither a\nsacrifice in the morning.\"\n\nSo in the morning they brought a sacrifice, and the priest laid it on\nthe fire while he danced around. He ceased singing and listened, but\nthe Evil Spirit answered not. Just as he was going to commence another\nsong the warriors saw a large ball rolling very fast up the hill to\nthe spot where they stood. It was the height of a man. When it came up\nto them it began to unwind itself slowly, until at last a little\nstrange-looking man crept out of the ball, which was made of his own\nhair. He was no higher than one's shoulders. One of his feet made a\nstrange track, such as no warrior had ever seen before. His face was\nas black as the shell of the butter-nut or the feathers of the raven,\nand his eyes as green as grass. His hair was of the colour of moss,\nand so long that, as the wind blew it out, it seemed the tail of a\nfiery star.\n\n\"What do you want of me?\" he asked.\n\nThe priest answered--\n\n\"The Shawanos want revenge. They want to sacrifice the beautiful\ndaughter of the sun, whom the Head Buffalo has brought from the camp\nof the Walkullas.\"\n\n\"They shall have their wish,\" said the Evil Spirit. \"Go and fetch\nher.\"\n\nThen Old Eagle and the warriors fetched her. Head Buffalo would have\nfought for her, but Chenos commanded him to be still.\n\n\"My master,\" he said, \"will see she does not suffer.\" Then they\nfastened her to the stake. The head warrior had stood still, for he\nhoped that the priest of the Great Spirit should snatch her away from\nthe Evil One. Now he shouted his war-cry and rushed upon Sketupah. It\nwas in vain. Sketupah's master did but breathe upon the face of the\nwarrior when he fell as though he had struck him a blow, and never\nbreathed more. Then the Evil One commanded them to seize Chenos.\n\n\"Come, my master,\" cried Chenos, \"for the hands of the Evil One are\nupon me.\"\n\nAs soon as he had said this, very far over the tall hills, which\nIndians call the Backbone of the Great Spirit, the people saw two\ngreat lights, brighter and larger than stars, moving very fast towards\nthe land of the Shawanos. One was just as high as another, and they\nwere both as high as the goat-sucker flies before a thunderstorm. At\nfirst they were close together, but as they came nearer they grew\nwider apart. Soon our people saw that they were two eyes, and in a\nlittle while the body of a great man, whose head nearly reached the\nsky, came after them. Brothers, the eyes of the Great Spirit always go\nbefore him, and nothing is hid from his sight. Brothers, I cannot\ndescribe the Master of Life as he stood before the warriors of our\nnation. Can you look steadily on the star of the morning?\n\nWhen the Evil Spirit saw the Spirit of Good coming, he began to grow\nin stature, and continued swelling until he was as tall and big as he.\nWhen the Spirit of Good came near and saw how the Evil Spirit had\ngrown, he stopped, and, looking angry, said, with a voice that shook\nthe hills--\n\n\"You lied; you promised to stay among the white people and the nations\ntowards the rising sun, and not trouble my people more.\"\n\n\"This woman,\" replied the Evil Spirit, \"comes from my country; she is\nmine.\"\n\n\"She is mine,\" said the Great Spirit. \"I had given her for a wife to\nthe warrior whom you have killed. Tell me no more lies, bad manito,\nlest I punish you. Away, and see you trouble my people no more.\"\n\nThe cowardly spirit made no answer, but shrank down to the size he was\nwhen he first came. Then he began as before to roll himself up in his\nhair, which he soon did, and then disappeared as he came. When he was\ngone, the Great Spirit shrank till he was no larger than a Shawano,\nand began talking to our people in a soft sweet voice--\n\n\"Men of the Shawanos nation, I love you and have always loved you. I\nbade you conquer your enemies; I gave your foes into your hands. I\nsent herds of deer and many bears and moose to your hunting-ground,\nand made my suns shine upon your corn. Who lived so well, who fought\nso bravely as the Shawanos? Whose women bore so many sons as yours?\n\n\"Why did you disturb the sacrifice which the Walkullas were offering\nto me at the feast of green corn? I was angry, and gave your warriors\ninto the hands of their enemies.\n\n\"Shawanos, hear my words, and forget them not; do as I bid you, and\nyou shall see my power and my goodness. Offer no further violence to\nthe white maiden, but treat her kindly. Go now and rake up the ashes\nof the sacrifice fire into a heap, gathering up the brands. When the\ngreat star of evening rises, open the ashes, put in the body of the\nHead Buffalo, lay on much wood, and kindle a fire on it. Let all the\nnation be called together, for all must assist in laying wood on the\nfire, but they must put on no pine, nor the tree which bears white\nflowers, nor the grape-vine which yields no fruit, nor the shrub whose\ndew blisters the flesh. The fire must be kept burning two whole moons.\nIt must not go out; it must burn night and day. On the first day of\nthe third moon put no wood on the fire, but let it die. On the morning\nof the second day the Shawanos must all come to the heap of\nashes--every man, woman, and child must come, and the aged who cannot\nwalk must be helped to it. Then Chenos and the head chief must bring\nout the beautiful woman, and place her near the ashes. This is the\nwill of the Great Spirit.\"\n\nWhen he had finished these words he began to swell until he had\nreached his former bulk and stature. Then at each of his shoulders\ncame out a wing of the colour of the gold-headed pigeon. Gently\nshaking these, he took flight from the land of the Shawanos, and was\nnever seen in those beautiful regions again.\n\nThe Shawanos did as he bade them. They raked the ashes together, laid\nthe body of Head Buffalo in them, lighted the fire, and kept it\nburning the appointed time. On the first day of the third moon they\nlet the fire out, assembled the nation around, and placed the\nbeautiful woman near the ashes. They waited, and looked to see what\nwould happen. At last the priests and warriors who were nearest began\nto shout, crying out--\n\n\"Piqua!\" which in the Shawanos tongue means a man coming out of the\nashes, or a man made of ashes.\n\nThey told no lie. There he stood, a man tall and straight as a young\npine, looking like a Shawanos, but handsomer than any man of our\nnation. The first thing he did was to cry the war-whoop, and demand\npaint, a club, a bow and arrows, and a hatchet,--all of which were\ngiven him. Looking around he saw the white woman, and he walked up to\nher, and gazed in her eyes. Then he came to the head chief and said--\n\n\"I must have that woman for my wife.\"\n\n\"What are you?\" asked the chief.\n\n\"A man of ashes,\" he replied.\n\n\"Who made you?\"\n\n\"The Great Spirit; and now let me go, that I may take my bow and\narrows, kill my deer, and come back and take the beautiful maiden for\nmy wife.\"\n\nThe chief asked Chenos--\n\n\"Shall he have her? Does the Great Spirit give her to him?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the priest. \"The Great Spirit has willed that he shall\nhave her, and from them shall arise a tribe to be called Piqua.\"\n\nBrothers, I am a Piqua, descended from the man made of ashes. If I\nhave told you a lie, blame not me, for I have but told the story as I\nheard it. Brothers, I have done.\n\n\n\n\nTHE EVIL MAKER.\n\n\nThe Great Spirit made man, and all the good things in the world, while\nthe Evil Spirit was asleep. When the Evil Spirit awoke he saw an\nIndian, and, wondering at his appearance, he went to him and asked--\n\n\"Who made you?\"\n\n\"The Great Spirit,\" replied the man.\n\n\"Oh, oh,\" thought the Evil Spirit, \"if he can make such a being so can\nI.\"\n\nSo he went to work, and tried his best to make an Indian like the man\nhe saw, but he made some mistake, and only made a black man. When he\nsaw that he had failed he was very angry, and in that state was\nwalking about when he met a black bear.\n\n\"Who made you?\" he asked.\n\n\"The Great Spirit,\" answered the bear.\n\n\"Then,\" thought the Evil Spirit, \"I will make a bear too.\"\n\nTo work he went, but do what he would he could not make a black bear,\nbut only a grizzly one, unfit for food. More disgusted than before, he\nwas walking through the forest when he found a beautiful serpent.\n\n\"Who made you?\" he asked.\n\n\"The Great Spirit,\" replied the serpent.\n\n\"Then I will make some like you,\" said the Evil Maker.\n\nHe tried his best, but the serpents he made were all noisome and\npoisonous, and he saw that he had failed again.\n\nThen it occurred to him that he might make some trees and flowers, but\nall his efforts only resulted in his producing some poor deformed\ntrees and weeds.\n\nThen he said--\n\n\"It is true, I have failed in making things like the Great Spirit, but\nI can at least spoil what he has made.\"\n\nAnd he went off to put murder and lies in the hearts of men.\n\n\n\n\nMANABOZHO THE WOLF.\n\n\nManabozho set out to travel. He wished to outdo all others, and see\nnew countries, but after walking over America, and encountering many\nadventures, he became satisfied as well as fatigued. He had heard of\ngreat feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his power in that\nway.\n\nOne evening, as he was walking along the shores of a great lake, weary\nand hungry, he encountered a great magician in the form of an old\nwolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The wolf, as soon as he\nsaw him, told his whelps to keep out of the way of Manabozho.\n\n\"For I know,\" said he, \"that it is he we see yonder.\"\n\nThe young wolves were in the act of running off, when Manabozho cried\nout--\n\n\"My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop, and I will go with you.\"\n\nHe appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and asked him whither he was\njourneying. Being told that they were looking out for a place where\nthey could find the most game, and best pass the winter, he said he\nshould like to go with them, and addressed the old wolf in these\nwords--\n\n\"Brother, I have a passion for the chase. Are you willing to change me\ninto a wolf?\"\n\nThe old wolf was agreeable, and Manabozho's transformation was\neffected.\n\nHe was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding in size\nwith the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change,\ncrying out--\n\n\"Oh! make me a little larger.\"\n\nThey did so.\n\n\"A little larger still,\" he cried.\n\nThey said--\n\n\"Let us humour him,\" and granted his request.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"that will do.\" Then looking at his tail--\n\n\"Oh!\" cried he, \"make my tail a little longer and more bushy.\"\n\nThey made it so, and shortly after they all started off in company,\ndashing up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they\nfell in with the tracks of moose. The young wolves went after them,\nManabozho and the old wolf following at their leisure.\n\n\"Well,\" said the wolf, \"who do you think is the fastest of my sons?\nCan you tell by the jumps they take?\"\n\n\"Why,\" replied he, \"that one that takes such long jumps; he is the\nfastest, to be sure.\"\n\n\"Ha, ha! You are mistaken,\" said the old wolf. \"He makes a good start,\nbut he will be the first to tire out. This one who appears to be\nbehind will be the first to kill the game.\"\n\nSoon after they came to the place where the young ones had killed the\ngame. One of them had dropped his bundle there.\n\n\"Take that, Manabozho,\" said the old wolf.\n\n\"Esa,\" he replied, \"what will I do with a dirty dog-skin?\"\n\nThe wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe.\n\n\"Oh! I will carry it now,\" said Manabozho.\n\n\"Oh no,\" replied the wolf, who at the moment exerted his magic power.\n\"It is a robe of pearls.\"\n\nFrom that moment he lost no opportunity of displaying his superiority,\nboth in the hunter's and magician's art, over his conceited companion.\n\nComing to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the\nyoung wolves had made a fresh start after their prey.\n\n\"Why,\" said the wolf, \"this moose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I\ncan always tell whether they are fat or not.\"\n\nThey next came to a place where one of the wolves had tried to bite\nthe moose, and, failing, had broken one of his teeth on a tree.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said the wolf, \"one of your grandchildren has shot at the\ngame. Take his arrow. There it is.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied he, \"what will I do with a dirty tooth?\"\n\nThe old wolf took it up, and, behold! it was a beautiful silver arrow.\n\nWhen they overtook the young ones, they found they had killed a very\nfat moose. Manabozho was very hungry, but, such is the power of\nenchantment, he saw nothing but bones, picked quite clean. He thought\nto himself--\n\n\"Just as I expected. Dirty, greedy fellows!\"\n\nHowever, he sat down without saying a word, and the old wolf said to\none of the young ones--\n\n\"Give some meat to your grandfather.\"\n\nThe wolf, coming near to Manabozho, opened his mouth wide as if he had\neaten too much, whereupon Manabozho jumped up, saying--\n\n\"You filthy dog, you have eaten so much that you are ill. Get away to\nsome other place.\"\n\nThe old wolf, hearing these words, came to Manabozho, and, behold!\nbefore him was a heap of fresh ruddy meat with the fat lying all ready\nprepared. Then Manabozho put on a smiling-face.\n\n\"Amazement!\" cried he, \"how fine the meat is!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the wolf; \"it is always so with us. We know our work,\nand always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter.\"\n\nManabozho bit his lip.\n\nThey then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the young ones\nwent out in search of game, of which they soon brought in a large\nsupply. One day, during the absence of the young wolves, the old one\namused himself by cracking the large bones of a moose.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said he, \"cover your head with the robe, and do not look\nat me while I am at these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye.\"\n\nManabozho covered his head, but, looking through a rent in the robe,\nhe saw all the other was about. At that moment a piece of bone flew\noff and hit him in the eye. He cried out--\n\n\"Tyau! Why do you strike me, you old dog!\"\n\nThe wolf said--\n\n\"You must have been looking at me.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" replied Manabozho; \"why should I want to look at you?\"\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said the wolf, \"you must have been looking, or you would\nnot have got hurt.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" said Manabozho; and he thought to himself, \"I will repay the\nsaucy wolf for this.\"\n\nNext day, taking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the old\nwolf--\n\n\"Cover your head, and don't look at me, for I fear a piece may fly in\nyour eye.\"\n\nThe wolf did so. Then Manabozho took the leg-bone of the moose, and,\nlooking first to see if the old wolf was well covered, he hit him a\nblow with all his might. The wolf jumped up, and cried out--\n\n\"Why do you strike me so?\"\n\n\"Strike you?\" exclaimed Manabozho. \"I did not strike you!\"\n\n\"You did,\" said the wolf.\n\n\"How can you say I did, when you did not see me. Were you looking?\"\nsaid Manabozho.\n\nHe was an expert hunter when he undertook the work in earnest, and one\nday he went out and killed a fat moose. He was very hungry, and sat\ndown to eat, but fell into great doubts as to the proper point in the\ncarcass to begin at.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"I don't know where to commence. At the head? No.\nPeople would laugh, and say, 'He ate him backward!'\"\n\nThen he went to the side.\n\n\"No,\" said he, \"they will say I ate him sideways.\"\n\nHe then went to the hind-quarter.\n\n\"No,\" said he, \"they will say I ate him forward.\"\n\nAt last, however, seeing that he must begin the attack somewhere, he\ncommenced upon the hind-quarter. He had just got a delicate piece in\nhis mouth when the tree just by began to make a creaking noise,\nrubbing one large branch against another. This annoyed him.\n\n\"Why!\" he exclaimed, \"I cannot eat when I hear such a noise. Stop,\nstop!\" cried he to the tree.\n\nHe was again going on with his meal when the noise was repeated.\n\n\"I cannot eat with such a noise,\" said he; and, leaving the meal,\nalthough he was very hungry, he went to put a stop to the noise. He\nclimbed the tree, and having found the branches which caused the\ndisturbance, tried to push them apart, when they suddenly caught him\nbetween them, so that he was held fast. While he was in this position\na pack of wolves came near.\n\n\"Go that way,\" cried Manabozho, anxious to send them away from the\nneighbourhood of his meat. \"Go that way; what would you come to get\nhere?\"\n\nThe wolves talked among themselves, and said, \"Manabozho wants to get\nus out of the way. He must have something good here.\"\n\n\"I begin to know him and all his tricks,\" said an old wolf. \"Let us\nsee if there is anything.\"\n\nThey accordingly began to search, and very soon finding the moose made\naway with the whole carcass. Manabozho looked on wistfully, and saw\nthem eat till they were satisfied, when they left him nothing but bare\nbones. Soon after a blast of wind opened the branches and set him\nfree. He went home, thinking to himself--\n\n\"See the effect of meddling with frivolous things when certain good is\nin one's possession!\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN-FISH.\n\n\nA very great while ago the ancestors of the Shawanos nation lived on\nthe other side of the Great Lake, half-way between the rising sun and\nthe evening star. It was a land of deep snows and much frost, of winds\nwhich whistled in the clear, cold nights, and storms which travelled\nfrom seas no eyes could reach. Sometimes the sun ceased to shine for\nmoons together, and then he was continually before their eyes for as\nmany more. In the season of cold the waters were all locked up, and\nthe snows overtopped the ridge of the cabins. Then he shone out so\nfiercely that men fell stricken by his fierce rays, and were numbered\nwith the snow that had melted and run to the embrace of the rivers. It\nwas not like the beautiful lands--the lands blessed with soft suns and\never-green vales--in which the Shawanos now dwell, yet it was well\nstocked with deer, and the waters with fat seals and great fish, which\nwere caught just when the people pleased to go after them. Still, the\nnation were discontented, and wished to leave their barren and\ninhospitable shores. The priests had told them of a beautiful world\nbeyond the Great Salt Lake, from which the glorious sun never\ndisappeared for a longer time than the duration of a child's sleep,\nwhere snow-shoes were never wanted--a land clothed with perpetual\nverdure, and bright with never-failing gladness. The Shawanos listened\nto these tales till they came to loathe their own simple comforts; all\nthey talked of, all they appeared to think of, was the land of the\nhappy hunting-grounds.\n\nOnce upon a time the people were much terrified at seeing a strange\ncreature, much resembling a man, riding along the waves of the lake on\nthe borders of which they dwelt. He had on his head long green hair;\nhis face was shaped like that of a porpoise, and he had a beard of the\ncolour of ooze.\n\nIf the people were frightened at seeing a man who could live in the\nwater like a fish or a duck, how much more were they frightened when\nthey saw that from his breast down he was actually fish, or rather two\nfishes, for each of his legs was a whole and distinct fish. When they\nheard him speak distinctly in their own language, and when he sang\nsongs sweeter than the music of birds in spring, or the whispers of\nlove from the lips of a beautiful maiden, they thought it a being from\nthe Land of Shades--a spirit from the happy fishing-grounds beyond the\nlake of storms.\n\nHe would sit for a long time, his fish-legs coiled up under him,\nsinging to the wondering ears of the Indians upon the shore the\npleasures he experienced, and the beautiful and strange things he saw\nin the depths of the ocean, always closing his strange stories with\nthese words, shouted at the top of his voice--\n\n\"Follow me, and see what I will show you.\"\n\nEvery day, when the waves were still and the winds had gone to their\nresting-place in the depths of the earth, the monster was sure to be\nseen near the shore where the Shawanos dwelt. For a great many suns\nthey dared not venture upon the water in quest of food, doing nothing\nbut wander along the beach, watching the strange creature as he played\nhis antics upon the surface of the waves, listening to his songs and\nto his invitation--\n\n\"Follow me, and see what I will show you.\"\n\nThe longer he stayed the less they feared him. They became used to\nhim, and in time looked upon him as a spirit who was not made for\nharm, nor wished to injure the poor Indian. Then they grew hungry, and\ntheir wives and little ones cried for food, and, as hunger banishes\nall fear, in a few days three canoes with many men and warriors\nventured off to the rocks in quest of fish.\n\nWhen they reached the fishing-place, they heard as before the voice\nshouting--\n\n\"Follow me, and see what I will show you.\"\n\nPresently the man-fish appeared, sitting on the water, with his legs\nfolded under him, and his arms crossed on his breast, as they had\nusually seen him. There he sat, eying them attentively. When they\nfailed to draw in the fish they had hooked, he would make the water\nshake and the deep echo with shouts of laughter, and would clap his\nhands with great noise, and cry--\n\n\"Ha, ha! there he fooled you.\"\n\nWhen a fish was caught he was very angry. When the fishers had tried\nlong and patiently, and taken little, and the sun was just hiding\nitself behind the dark clouds which skirted the region of warm winds,\nthe strange creature cried out still stronger than before--\n\n\"Follow me, and see what I will show you.\"\n\nKiskapocoke, who was the head man of the tribe, asked him what he\nwanted, but he would make no other answer than--\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\n\"Do you think,\" said Kiskapocoke, \"I would be such a fool as to go I\ndon't know with whom, and I don't know where?\"\n\n\"See what I will show you,\" cried the man-fish.\n\n\"Can you show us anything better than we have yonder?\" asked the\nwarrior.\n\n\"I will show you,\" replied the monster, \"a land where there is a herd\nof deer for every one that skips over your hills, where there are vast\ndroves of creatures larger than your sea-elephants, where there is no\ncold to freeze you, where the sun is always soft and smiling, where\nthe trees are always in bloom.\"\n\nThe people began to be terrified, and wished themselves on land, but\nthe moment they tried to paddle towards the shore, some invisible hand\nwould seize their canoes and draw them back, so that an hour's labour\ndid not enable them to gain the length of their boat in the direction\nof their homes. At last Kiskapocoke said to his companions--\n\n\"What shall we do?\"\n\n\"Follow me,\" said the fish.\n\nThen Kiskapocoke said to his companions--\n\n\"Let us follow him, and see what will come of it.\"\n\nSo they followed him,--he swimming and they paddling, until night\ncame. Then a great wind and deep darkness prevailed, and the Great\nSerpent commenced hissing in the depths of the ocean. The people were\nterribly frightened, and did not think to live till another sun, but\nthe man-fish kept close to the boats, and bade them not be afraid, for\nnothing should hurt them.\n\nWhen morning came, nothing could be seen of the shore they had left.\nThe winds still raged, the seas were very high, and the waters ran\ninto their canoes like melted snows over the brows of the mountains,\nbut the man-fish handed them large shells, with which they baled the\nwater out. As they had brought neither food nor water with them, they\nhad become both hungry and thirsty. Kiskapocoke told the strange\ncreature they wanted to eat and drink, and that he must supply them\nwith what they required.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the man-fish, and, disappearing in the depths of the\nwater, he soon reappeared, bringing with him a bag of parched corn and\na shell full of sweet water.\n\nFor two moons and a half the fishermen followed the man-fish, till at\nlast one morning their guide exclaimed--\n\n\"Look there!\"\n\nUpon that they looked in the direction he pointed out to them and saw\nland, high land, covered with great trees, and glittering as the sand\nof the Spirit's Island. Behind the shore rose tall mountains, from the\ntops of which issued great flames, which shot up into the sky, as the\nforks of the lightning cleave the clouds in the hot moon. The waters\nof the Great Salt Lake broke in small waves upon its shores, which\nwere covered with sporting seals and wild ducks pluming themselves in\nthe beams of the warm and gentle sun. Upon the shore stood a great\nmany strange people, but when they saw the strangers step upon the\nland and the man-fish, they fled to the woods like startled deer, and\nwere no more seen.\n\nWhen the warriors were safely landed, the man-fish told them to let\nthe canoe go; \"for,\" said he, \"you will never need it more.\" They had\ntravelled but a little way into the woods when he bade them stay where\nthey were, while he told the spirit of the land that the strangers he\nhad promised were come, and with that he descended into a deep cave\nnear at hand. He soon returned, accompanied by a creature as strange\nin appearance as himself. His legs and feet were those of a man. He\nhad leggings and moccasins like an Indian's, tightly laced and\nbeautifully decorated with wampum, but his head was like a goat's. He\ntalked like a man, and his language was one well understood by the\nstrangers.\n\n\"I will lead you,\" he said, \"to a beautiful land, to a most beautiful\nland, men from the clime of snows. There you will find all the joys an\nIndian covets.\"\n\nFor many moons the Shawanos travelled under the guidance of the\nman-goat, into whose hands the man-fish had put them, when he retraced\nhis steps to the Great Lake. They came at length to the land which the\nShawanos now occupy. They found it as the strange spirits had\ndescribed it. They married the daughters of the land, and their\nnumbers increased till they were so many that no one could count them.\nThey grew strong, swift, and valiant in war, keen and patient in the\nchase. They overcame all the tribes eastward of the River of Rivers,\nand south to the shore of the Great Lake.\n\n\nPrinted by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to Her Majesty,\nat the Edinburgh University Press.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note.\n\nMinor typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\nAll Native American words have been kept as originally printed,\nincluding those with variation in hyphenation or spelling.\n\nThe advertisement has been moved to follow the title page.","title":"Folk-Lore and Legends: North American Indian","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":45166}