{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48469/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48469","id":"gutenberg_48469","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48469","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Fairy tales -- North America","Indians of North America -- Folklore"],"text":"THE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK\n\nBy Henry R. Schoolcraft\n\nFrom The Original Legends\n\nWith Eight Illustrations In Color By Florence Choate Elizabeth Curtis\n\nFrederick A. Stokes Company Publishers\n\n1916\n\n[Illustration: 0008]\n\n[Illustration: 0009]\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\nThese Indian fairy tales are chosen from the many stories collected by\nMr. Henry R. Schoolcraft, the first man to study how the Indians lived\nand to discover their legends. He lived among the Indians in the West\nand around the Great Lakes for thirty years in the first part of the\nNineteenth Century and wrote many books about them.\n\nWhen the story-tellers sat at the lodge fires in the long evenings to\ntell of the manitoes and their magic, of how the little boy snared the\nsun, of the old Toad Woman who stole the baby, and the other tales that\nhad been retold to generation after generation of red children, time out\nof mind, Mr. Schoolcraft listened and wrote the stories down, just as he\nheard them.\n\nIn 1856 this collection of his stories was published by Mason Brothers\nin New York City. A small brown book with quaint engravings for\npictures, it is now only to be found here and there in families that\nhave always treasured its delightful contents. It is republished, with\nrevisions and with new illustrations in color, so that these stories may\nbe passed on as they deserve.\n\n\n\n\nTHE INDIAN FAIRY BOOK\n\n\n\n\nI. THE BOY WHO SET A SNARE FOR THE SUN\n\n|The boy came home unsuccessful. Then his sister told him that he must\nnot despair, but try again the next day.\n\nShe accordingly left him again at the gathering-place of the wood and\nreturned to the lodge. Toward nightfall she heard his little footsteps\ncrackling through the snow, and he hurried in and threw down, with an\nair of triumph, one of the birds which he had killed.\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 the skins.\"\n\n\"But what shall we do with the body?\" said she; for they had always up\nto that time lived upon greens and berries.\n\n\"Cut it in two,\" he answered, \"and season our pottage with one half of\nit at a time.\"\n\nIt was their first dish of game, and they relished it greatly.\n\nThe boy kept on in his efforts, and in the course of time he killed ten\nbirds-out of the skins of which his sister made him a little coat. Being\nvery small, he had a very pretty coat, and a bird-skin to spare.\n\n\"Sister,\" said he one day, as he paraded up and down before the lodge,\nenjoying his new coat and fancying himself the greatest little fellow\nin the world--as he was, for there was no other besides him--\"My sister,\nare we really alone in the world, or are we playing at it? Is there\nnobody else living? And tell me, was all this great broad earth and this\nhuge big sky made for a little boy and girl like you and me?\"\n\n\"Ah, no,\" answered the sister, \"there are many others, but not harmless\nas you and I are. They live in a certain other quarter of the earth, and\nif we would not endanger our lives we must keep away from there. They\nhave killed off all our kinsfolk and will kill us, too, if we go near\nwhere they are.\"\n\nTo this the boy was silent; but his sister's words only served to\ninflame his curiosity the more, and soon after he took his how and\narrows and went in the forbidden direction.\n\nAfter walking a long time and meeting no one, he became tired and\nstretched himself upon a high green knoll where the day's warmth had\nmelted off the snow. It was a charming place to lie, and he soon fell\nasleep. While he slept, the sun heat upon him. It not only singed his\nbird-skin coat, but so shrivelled and shrunk and tightened it on the\nlittle boy's body as to wake him up. And then when he felt how the sun\nhad seared the coat he was so proud of, and saw the mischief its fiery\nbeams had played, he flew into a great passion. He vowed fearful things,\nand berated the sun in a terrible way for a little boy no higher than a\nman's knee.\n\n\"Do not think you are too high,\" said he; \"I shall revenge myself. Oh,\nsun! I will have you for a plaything yet.\"\n\nOn coming home he gave an account of his misfortune to his sister, and\nbitterly bewailed the spoiling of his new coat. He would not eat--not so\nmuch as a single berry. He lay down as one that fasts; nor did he move\nor change his manner of lying for ten full days, though his sister\nstrove to prevail on him to rise. At the end of ten days he turned over,\nand then he lay full ten days on the other side.\n\nWhen he got up he was very pale, but very resolute too. He bade his\nsister make a snare.\n\n\"For,\" said he, \"I mean to catch the sun.\"\n\n\"I have nothing strong to make a snare of,\" objected the sister. But on\nhis insisting, she brought forward a deer's sinew which their father\nhad left, and soon made it into a string suitable for a noose. But the\nbrother was not pleased with it; he told her that it would not do and\ndirected her to find something else. She said she had nothing--nothing\nat all; but at last she thought of the bird-skin that was left over\nwhen the coat was made, and she wrought this into a string. And now the\nlittle boy was more vexed than before.\n\n\"The sun has had enough of my bird-skins,\" he said; \"find something\nelse.\"\n\nShe went out of the lodge, saying to herself, \"Was there ever so\nobstinate a boy?\" She did not dare to answer this time that she had\nnothing. Then luckily she thought of her own beautiful hair, and pulling\nsome of it from among her locks, she quickly braided it into a cord,\nand, returning, handed it to her brother. The moment his eye fell upon\nthe jet black braid he was delighted.\n\n\"This will do,\" he said, and he immediately began to run it back and\nforth through his hands as swiftly as he could; and as he drew it forth,\nhe tried its strength. He said again, \"This will do,\" and winding it in\na glossy coil about his shoulders, he set out a little after midnight.\n\nHis object was to catch the sun before it rose. He fixed his snare\nfirmly on a spot just where the sun must strike the land as it rose\nabove the earth; and sure enough, he caught the sun, so that it was held\nfast in the cord and did not rise.\n\nThe animals who ruled the earth were immediately put into great\ncommotion. They had no light; and they ran to and fro, calling out to\none another and inquiring what had happened. They summoned a council\nto debate upon the matter, and an old dormouse, suspecting where the\ntrouble lay, proposed that some one should be appointed to go and cut\nthe cord. This was a bold thing to undertake, as the rays of the sun\ncould not fail to burn whoever should venture so near to them.\n\nAt last the venerable dormouse himself undertook it, for the very good\nreason that no one else would. But all were glad to accept his offer, so\nhe hastened to the spot where the sun lay ensnared.\n\nNow at this time the dormouse was the largest animal in the world. When\nhe stood up he looked like a mountain, and when he walked the earth\ntrembled. His courage was great in proportion, but as he came nearer and\nnearer to the sun his back began to smoke and burn with the heat, and\nsoon the whole top of his huge bulk was turned to enormous heaps of\nashes. He succeeded, however, in cutting the cord with his teeth, and\nthe sun, free, as round and beautiful as ever, rolled up again into the\nwide blue sky. But the dormouse--or blind woman as it is called--was\nshrunk away to a very small size; and that is the reason why it is now\none of the tiniest creatures upon the earth.\n\nThe little boy returned home when he discovered that the sun had escaped\nhis snare, and devoted himself entirely to hunting.\n\n\"If the beautiful hair of my sister would not hold the sun fast, nothing\nin the world could,\" he said. \"I was not born, a little fellow like\nmyself, to look after the sun. It requires one greater and wiser than I\nto regulate that.\"\n\nSo he went out and shot ten more snow-birds; for in this business he was\nvery expert; and he had a new bird-skin coat made, which was prettier\nthan the one he had worn before.\n\n[Illustration: 0022]\n\n\n\n\nII. MANABOZHO, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER\n\n\n|THERE was never in the whole world a more mischievous busy-body than\nthat notorious giant Manabozho. He was everywhere, in season and out\nof season, running about and putting his hand in whatever was going\nforward. To carry on his game, he could take almost any shape he\npleased; he could be very foolish or very wise; very weak or very\nstrong; very poor or very rich--just as happened to suit his humor best.\nWhatever any one else could do, he would attempt without a moment's\nreflection. He was a match for any man he met, and there were few\nmani-toes that could get the better of him. By turns he would be very\nkind, or very cruel; an animal or a bird; a man or a spirit. And yet, in\nspite of all these gifts, Manabozho was always getting himself involved\nin all sorts of troubles; and more than once, in the course of his busy\nadventures, was this great maker of mischief driven to his wits' ends to\ncome off with his life.\n\nTo begin at the beginning, Manabozho, while yet a youngster, was living\nwith his grandmother near the edge of a wide prairie. It was on this\nprairie that he first saw animals and birds of every kind; he also there\nmade first acquaintance with thunder and lightning; he would sit by the\nhour watching the clouds as they rolled, and musing on the shades of\nlight and darkness as the day rose and fell.\n\nFor a stripling, Manabozho was uncommonly wideawake. Every new sight he\nbeheld in the heavens was a subject of remark; every new animal or bird,\nan object of deep interest; and every sound that came from the bosom of\nnature was like a new lesson which he was expected to learn. He often\ntrembled at what he heard and saw.\n\nTo the scene of the wide open prairie his grandmother sent him at an\nearly age to watch. The first sound he heard was that of the owl, at\nwhich he was greatly terrified. Quickly descending the tree he had\nclimbed, he ran with alarm to the lodge.\n\n\"Noko! noko! grandmother!\" he cried. \"I have heard a monedo.\"\n\nShe laughed at his fears and asked him what kind of noise his reverence\nmade. He answered:\n\n\"It makes a noise like this: Ko-ko-ko-ho.\"\n\nHis grandmother told him he was young and foolish; that what he heard\nwas only a bird which derived its name from the peculiar noise it made.\n\nHe returned to the prairie and continued his watch. As he stood there\nlooking at the clouds, he thought thus to himself:\n\n\"It is singular that I am so simple and my grandmother so wise; and that\nI have neither father nor mother. I have never heard a word about them.\nI must ask and find out.\"\n\nHe went home and sat down, silent and dejected. Finding that this did\nnot attract the notice of his grandmother, he began a loud lamentation,\nwhich he kept increasing, louder and louder, till it shook the lodge and\nnearly deafened the old grandmother. She at length said:\n\n\"Manabozho, what is the matter with you? You are making a great deal of\nnoise.\"\n\nManabozho started off again with his doleful hubbub; but succeeded in\njerking out between his big sobs, \"I haven't got any father or mother; I\nhaven't,\" and he set out again lamenting more boisterously than ever.\n\nKnowing that he was of a wicked and revengeful temper, his grandmother\ndreaded to tell him the story of his parentage; as she knew he would\nmake trouble of it.\n\nManabozho renewed his cries and managed to throw out, for a third or\nfourth time, his sorrowful lament that he was a poor unfortunate, who\nhad no parents and no relations. Finally his grandmother said:\n\n\"Yes, you have a father and three brothers living. Your mother is dead.\nShe was taken for a wife by your father, the West, without the consent\nof her parents. Your brothers are the North, East, and South; and being\nolder than yourself, your father has given them great power with the\nwinds, according to their names. You are the youngest of his children.\nI have nursed you from your infancy; for your mother, owing to the\nill-treatment of your father, died when you were born. I have no\nrelations beside you. Your mother was my only child, and you are my only\nhope.\"\n\n\"I am glad my father is living,\" said Manabozho. \"I shall set out in the\nmorning to visit him.\"\n\nHis grandmother would have discouraged him, saying it was a long\ndistance to the place where his father, Ningabiun, or the West, lived.\n\nThis information seemed rather to please than to disconcert Manabozho;\nfor by this time he had grown to such a size and strength that he had\nbeen compelled to leave the narrow shelter of his grandmother's lodge\nand to live out of doors. He was so tall that, as he stood up, he could\nhave snapped off the heads of the birds roosting in the topmost branches\nof the highest trees, without being at the trouble to climb. And if\nhe had at any time taken a fancy to one of the same trees for a\nwalking-stick, he would have had no more to do than to pluck it up with\nhis thumb and finger and strip down the leaves and twigs with the palm\nof his hand.\n\nBidding good-bye to his venerable old grandmother, who pulled a very\nlong face over his departure, Manabozho set out at great headway, for he\nwas able to stride from one side of a prairie to the other at a single\nstep.\n\nHe found his father on a high mountain-ground, far in the west. His\nfather espied his approach at a great distance and bounded down the\nmountain-side several miles to give him welcome; and, side-by-side,\napparently delighted with each other, they reached in two or three of\ntheir giant paces the lodge of the West, which stood high up near the\nclouds.\n\nThey spent some days in talking with each other--for these two great\npersons did nothing on a small scale, and a whole day to deliver a\nsingle sentence was quite an ordinary affair, such was the immensity of\ntheir discourse.\n\nOne evening Manabozho asked his father what he was most afraid of on\nearth.\n\nHe replied--\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"But is there nothing you dread, here--nothing that would hurt you if\nyou took too much of it? Come, tell me.\"\n\nManabozho was very urgent, and at last his father said:\n\n\"Yes, there is a black stone to be found a couple of hundred miles\nfrom here, over that way,\" pointing as he spoke. \"It is the only thing\nearthly that I am afraid of, for if it should happen to hit me on any\npart of my body it would hurt me very much.\"\n\nThe West made this important circumstance known to Manabozho in the\nstrictest confidence.\n\n\"Now you will not tell any one, Manabozho, that the black stone is bad\nmedicine for your father, will you?\" he added. \"You are a good son, and\nI know you will keep it to yourself. Now tell me, my darling boy, is\nthere not something that you don't like?\"\n\nManabozho answered promptly--\"Nothing.\"\n\nHis father, who was of a very steady and persevering temper, put the\nsame question to him seventeen times, and each time Manabozho made the\nsame answer--\"Nothing.\"\n\nBut the West insisted--\"There must be something you are afraid of.\"\n\n\"Well, I will tell you,\" said Manabozho, \"what it is.\"\n\nHe made an effort to speak, but it seemed to be too much for him.\n\n\"Out with it,\" said Ningabiun, or the West, fetching Manabozho such a\nblow on the back as shook the mountain with its echo.\n\n\"Je-ee, je-ee--it is--\" said Manabozho, apparently in great pain. \"Yeo,\nyeo! I cannot name it, I tremble so.\"\n\nThe West told him to banish his fears and to speak up; no one would hurt\nhim.\n\nManabozho began again, and he would have gone over the same make-believe\nof anguish, had not his father, whose strength he knew was more than a\nmatch for his own, threatened to pitch him into a river about five miles\noff. At last he cried out:\n\n\"Father, since you will know, it is the root of the bulrush.\"\n\nHe who could with perfect ease spin a sentence a whole day long, seemed\nto be exhausted by the effort of pronouncing that one word, \"bulrush.\"\n\nSome time after, Manabozho observed:\n\n\"I will get some of the black rock, merely to see how it looks.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the father, \"I will also get a little of the bulrush-root,\nto learn how it tastes.\"\n\nThey were both double-dealing with each other, and in their hearts\ngetting ready for some desperate work.\n\nThey had no sooner separated for the evening than Manabozho was striding\noff the couple of hundred miles necessary to bring him to the place\nwhere the black rock was to be procured, while down the other side of\nthe mountain hurried Ningabiun.\n\nAt the break of day they each appeared at the great level on the\nmountain-top, Manabozho with twenty loads, at least, of the black stone,\non one side, and on the other the West, with a whole meadow of bulrush\nin his arms.\n\nManabozho was the first to strike--hurling a great piece of the black\nrock, which struck the West directly between the eyes. The West returned\nthe favor with a blow of bulrush that rung over the shoulders of\nManabozho, far and wide, like the whip-thong of the lightning among the\nclouds.\n\nAnd now both rallied, and Manabozho poured in a tempest of black rock,\nwhile Ningabiun discharged a shower of bulrush. Blow upon blow, thwack\nupon thwack--they fought hand to hand until black rock and bulrush were\nall gone. Then they betook themselves to hurling crags at each\nother, cudgeling with huge oak-trees, and defying each other from one\nmountain-top to another. At times they shot enormous boulders of granite\nacross at each other's heads, as though they had been mere jack-stones.\nThe battle, which had commenced on the mountains, had extended far west.\nThe West was forced to give ground. Manabozho pressing on, drove him\nacross rivers and mountains, ridges and lakes, till at last he got him\nto the very brink of the world.\n\n\"Hold!\" cried the West. \"My son, you know my power, and although I allow\nthat I am now fairly out of breath, it is impossible to kill me. Stop\nwhere you are, and I will also portion you out with as much power as\nyour brothers. The four quarters of the globe are already occupied, but\nyou can go and do a great deal of good to the people of the earth. They\nare beset with serpents, beasts and monsters, who make great havoc of\nhuman life. Go and do good, and if you put forth half the strength you\nhave to-day, you will acquire a name that will last forever. When you\nhave finished your work I will have a place provided for you. You will\nthen go and sit with your brother, Kabinocca, in the North.\"\n\nManabozho gave his father his hand upon this agreement. And parting\nfrom him, he returned to his own grounds, where he lay for some time\nsore of his wounds.\n\nThese being, however, greatly allayed and soon after cured by his\ngrandmother's skill in medicines, Manabozho, as big and sturdy as ever,\nwas ripe for new adventures. He set his thoughts immediately upon a war\nexcursion against the Pearl Feather, a wicked old manito, who had killed\nhis grandfather. Pearl Feather lived on the other side of the great\nlake, but that was nothing to Manabozho. He began his preparations by\nmaking huge bows and arrows without number; but he had no heads for\nhis shafts. At last Noko told him that an old man, whom she knew, could\nfurnish him with such as he needed. He sent her to get some. She soon\nreturned with her wrapper full. Manabozho told her that he had not\nenough and sent her again. She came back with as many more. He thought\nto himself, \"I must find out the way of making these heads.\"\n\nInstead of directly asking how it was done, he preferred--it was just\nlike Manabozho--to deceive his grandmother and come at the knowledge he\ndesired by a trick.\n\n\"Noko,\" said he, \"while I take my drum and rattle, and sing my\nwar-songs, do you go and try to get me some larger heads, for these you\nhave brought me are all of the same size. Go and see whether the old man\nis not willing to make some a little larger.\"\n\nAs she went he followed at a distance, having left his drum at the\nlodge, with a great bird tied at the top, whose fluttering should keep\nup the drum-beat the same as if he were tarrying at home. He saw the old\nworkman busy and learned how he prepared the heads; he also beheld the\nold man's daughter, who was very beautiful. Manabozlio now discovered\nfor the first time that he had a heart of his own, and the sigh he\nheaved passed through the arrow-maker's lodge like a gale of wind.\n\n\"How it blows!\" said the old man.\n\n\"It must be from the south,\" said the daughter; \"for it is very\nfragrant.\"\n\nManabozho slipped away, and in two strides he was at home, shouting\nforth his songs as though he had never left the lodge. He had just time\nto free the bird which had been beating the drum, when his grandmother\ncame in and delivered to him the big arrowheads.\n\nIn the evening the grandmother said, \"My son, you ought to fast before\nyou go to war, as your brothers do, to find out whether you will be\nsuccessful or not.\"\n\nHe said he had no objection; and privately stored away, in a shady\nplace in the forest two or three dozen juicy bears, a moose, and twenty\nstrings of the tender-est birds. The place of his fast had been chosen\nby Noko, and she had told him it must be so far as to be beyond the\nsound of her voice or it would be unlucky. So Manabozho would retire\nfrom the lodge so far as to be entirely out of view of his grandmother,\nfall to and enjoy himself heartily, and at nightfall, having just\ndespatched a dozen birds and half a bear or so, he would return\ntottering and woe-begone, as if quite famished, so as to move deeply the\nsympathies of his wise old granddame.\n\nBut after a time Manabozho, who was always spying out mischief, said to\nhimself, \"I must find out why my grandmother is so anxious to have me\nfast at this spot.\"\n\nThe next day he went but a short distance. She cried out, \"A little\nfarther off;\" but he came nearer to the lodge, the rogue that he was,\nand cried out in a low, counterfeited voice, to make it appear that he\nwas going away instead of approaching. He had now got so near that he\ncould see all that passed in the lodge.\n\nHe had not been long in ambush when an old magician crept into the\nlodge. This old magician had very long hair, which hung across his\nshoulders and down his back like a bush or foot-mat. Noko welcomed him\nkindly and they commenced talking earnestly. In doing so, they put their\ntwo old heads so very close together that Manabozho was satisfied they\nwere kissing each other. He was indignant that any one should take such\na liberty with his venerable grandmother, and to mark his sense of the\noutrage, he touched the bushy hair of the old magician with a live coal\nwhich he had blown upon. The old magician felt the flame; he jumped out\ninto the air, making his hair burn only the fiercer, and ran, blazing\nlike a fire-ball, across the prairie.\n\nManabozho who had, meanwhile, stolen off to his fasting-place, cried out\nin a heart-broken tone and as if on the very point of starvation, \"Noko!\nNoko! is it time for me to come home?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she cried. And when he came in she asked him, \"Did you see\nanything?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" he answered, with an air of childish candor; looking as much\nlike a big simpleton as he could. The grandmother looked at him very\nclosely and said no more.\n\nManabozho finished his term of fasting, in the course of which he slyly\ndespatched twenty fat bears, six dozen birds, and two fine moose. Then\nhe sang his war-song and embarked in his canoe, fully prepared for war.\nBesides weapons of battle, he had stowed in a large supply of oil.\n\nHe traveled rapidly night and day, for he had only to will or speak, and\nthe canoe went. At length he arrived at a place guarded by many fiery\nserpents. He paused to view them, observing that they were some distance\napart, and that the flames which they constantly belched forth reached\nacross the pass. He gave them a good morning and began talking with them\nin a very friendly way; but they answered:\n\n\"We know you, Manabozho; you cannot pass.\"\n\nHe was not, however, to be put off so easily. Turning his canoe as if\nabout to go back, he suddenly cried out with a loud and terrified voice:\n\n\"What is that behind you?\"\n\nThe serpents, thrown off their guard, instantly turned their heads, and\nhe glided past them in a moment.\n\n\"Well,\" said he quietly, after he had got by, \"how do you like my\nmovement?\"\n\nHe then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot every\none of them, easily, for the serpents were fixed to one spot and could\nnot even turn around. They were of an enormous length, and a bright\ncolor.\n\nHaving thus escaped the sentinel serpents, Mana-bozho pushed on in\nhis canoe until he came to a part of the lake called Pitch-water, as\nwhatever touched it was sure to stick fast. But Manabozho was prepared\nwith his oil, and rubbing his canoe freely from end to end, he slipped\nthrough with ease, the first person who had ever succeeded in passing\nthrough the Pitch-water.\n\n\"There is nothing like a little oil to help one through pitch-water,\"\nsaid Manabozho to himself.\n\nNow in view of land, he could see the lodge of Pearl Feather, the\nShining Manito, high upon a distant hill.\n\nPutting his clubs and arrows in order, Manabozho began his attack,\nyelling and shouting, heating his drum, and calling out in triple\nvoices:\n\n\"Surround him! surround him! run up! run up!\" making it appear that he\nhad many followers. He advanced, shouting aloud:\n\n\"It was you that killed my grandfather,\" and shot off a whole forest of\narrows.\n\nThe Pearl Feather appeared on the height, blazing like the sun, and paid\nback the discharges of Mana-bozho with a tempest of bolts, which rattled\nlike the hail.\n\nAll day long the fight was kept up, and Manabozho had fired all of his\narrows but three, without effect; for the Shining Manito was clothed\nin pure wampum. It was only by immense leaps to right and left that\nManabozho could save his head from the sturdy blows which fell about\nhim on every side, like pine-trees, from the hands of the Manito. He was\nbadly bruised and at his very wits' end, when a large woodpecker flew\npast and lit on a tree. It was a bird he had known on the prairie, near\nhis grandmother's lodge.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" called out the woodpecker, \"your enemy has a weak point;\nshoot at the lock of hair on the crown of his head.\"\n\nHe shot his first arrow and only drew blood in a few drops. The Manito\nmade one or two unsteady steps, then recovered himself. He began to\nparley, but Manabozho, knowing that he had discovered a way to reach\nhim, was in no humor to trifle, and let slip another arrow, which\nbrought the Shining Manito to his knees. And now, having the crown of\nhis head within good range, Manabozho sent in his third arrow, which\nlaid the Manito out upon the ground, stark dead.\n\nManabozho lifted up a huge war-cry, beat his drum, and took the scalp\nof the Manito as his trophy. Then calling the woodpecker to come and\nreceive a reward for the timely hint he had given him, he rubbed the\nblood of the Shining Manito on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of\nwhich are red to this day. Full of his victory, Manabozho returned home,\nbeating his war-drum furiously and shouting aloud his songs of\ntriumph. His grandmother was on the shore ready to welcome him with\nthe war-dance, which she performed with wonderful skill for one so far\nadvanced in years.\n\nThe heart of Manabozho swelled within him. He was fairly on fire and\nan unconquerable desire for further adventures seized upon him. He had\ndestroyed the powerful Pearl Feather, killed his serpents, and escaped\nall his wiles and charms. He had prevailed in a great land fight, his\nnext trophy should be from the water.\n\nHe tried his prowess as a fisherman, and with such success that he\ncaptured a fish monstrous in size and so rich in fat that with the\noil Manabozho was able to form a small lake. To this, being generously\ndisposed and having a cunning purpose of his own to answer, he invited\nall the birds and beasts of his acquaintance; and he made the order in\nwhich they partook of the banquet the measure of their fatness for all\ntime to come. As fast as they arrived he told them to plunge in and help\nthemselves.\n\nThe first to make his appearance was the bear, who took a long and\nsteady draught; then came the deer, the opossum, and such others of the\nfamily as are noted for their comfortable case. The moose and bison were\nslack in their cups, and the partridge, always lean in flesh, looked on\ntill the supply was nearly gone. There was not a drop left by the time\nthe hare and the martin appeared on the shore of the lake, and they are,\nin consequence, the slenderest of all creatures.\n\nWhen this ceremony was over, Manabozho suggested to his friends, the\nassembled birds and animals, that the occasion was proper for a little\nmerry-making; and taking up his drum, he cried out:\n\n\"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, dance!\"\n\nIn order to make the sport more mirthful, he directed that they should\nshut their eyes and pass around him in a circle. Again he beat his drum\nand cried out:\n\n\"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, dance!\"\n\n[Illustration: 0039]\n\nThey all fell in and commenced their rounds. Whenever Manabozho, as he\nstood in the circle, saw pass by him a fat fowl which he fancied, he\nadroitly wrung its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time\nbeating his drum and singing at the top of his lungs to drown the\nnoise of the fluttering. And he all the time called out in tones of\nadmiration:\n\n\"That's the way, my brothers; that's the way!\"\n\nAt last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking there was something\nwrong, opened one eye and saw what Manabozho was doing.\n\n\"Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is killing us!\" he cried, giving a spring and\nmaking for the water.\n\nManabozho, quite vexed that the creature should have played the spy upon\nhis house-keeping, followed him; and just as the duck was diving into\nthe water, he gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver's\ntail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs straightened\nout, so that when he gets on land he makes a poor figure in walking.\n\nMeantime, the other birds, having no ambition to be thrust in\nManabozho's girdle, flew off, and the animals scampered into the woods.\n\nManabozho, stretching himself at ease in the shade along the side of\nthe prairie, thought what he should do next. He concluded that he would\ntravel and see new countries; and having once made up his mind, such was\nhis length of limb and the immensity of his stride, that in less than\nthree days he had walked over the entire continent and looked into every\nlodge by the way--and with such nicety of observation that he was able\nto inform his good old grandmother what each family had for a dinner at\na given hour.\n\nBy way of relief to these grand doings, Manabozho was disposed to vary\nhis experiences by bestowing a little time upon the sports of the woods.\nHe had heard reported great feats in hunting, and he had a desire to try\nhis power in that way. Besides that, it was a slight consideration that\nhe had devoured all the game within reach of the lodge. And so, one\nevening, while walking along the shore of the great lake, weary and\nhungry, he was quite delighted to encounter a great magician in the form\nof an old wolf, with six young ones.\n\nThe wolf no sooner caught sight of him than he told his whelps, who were\nclose about his side, to keep out of the way of Manabozho. \"For I know,\"\nhe said, \"that it is that mischievous fellow whom 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. I\nwish to have a little chat with your excellent father.\"\n\nSaying which he advanced and greeted the old wolf, expressing himself\npleased at seeing him looking so well.\n\n\"Whither do you journey?\" he asked.\n\n\"We are looking for a good hunting-ground to pass the winter,\" the old\nwolf answered. \"What brings you here?\"\n\n\"I was looking for you,\" said Manabozho. \"For I have a passion for the\nchase, brother. I always admired your family; are you willing to change\nme into a wolf?\"\n\nThe wolf gave him a favorable answer, and he was forthwith changed into\na wolf.\n\n\"Well, that will do,\" said Manabozho; then looking at his tail, he\nadded, \"Oh! could you oblige me by making my tail just a little longer\nand more bushy, please?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said the old wolf; and he gave Mana-bozho such a length and\nspread of tail that it was constantly getting between his legs, and\nit was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to find strength to\ncarry it. But having asked for it, he was ashamed to say a word; and\nthey all started off in company, dashing up a ravine.\n\nAfter getting into the woods for some distance, they fell in with the\ntracks of moose. The young ones scampered off in pursuit, the old wolf\nand Manabozho following at their leisure.\n\n\"Well,\" said the old wolf, by way of opening discourse, \"who do you\nthink is the fastest of the boys? Can you tell by the jumps they take?\"\n\n\"Why,\" Manabozho replied, \"that one that takes such long jumps, he is\nthe fastest, 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 one to kill the game.\"\n\nBy this time they had come to the spot where the boys had started in\nchase. One had dropped what seemed to be a small medicine-sack, which he\ncarried for the use of the hunting-party.\n\n\"Take that, Manabozho,\" said the old wolf.\n\n\"Esa,\" he replied, \"what will I do with a dirty dogskin?\"\n\nThe old wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe.\n\n\"Oh, I will carry it now,\" cried Manabozho.\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said the old wolf, who had exerted his magical powers, \"it is\na robe of pearls. Come along!\"\n\nAnd away sped the old wolf at a great rate of speed.\n\n\"Not so fast,\" called Manabozho after him; and then he added to himself\nas he panted after, \"Oh, this tail!\"\n\nComing to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young\nwolves had made a fresh start after their prey.\n\n\"Why,\" said the old wolf, \"this moose is poor. I know by the tracks; in\nthat way I can always tell whether they are fat or not.\"\n\nA little farther on, one of the young wolves, in dashing at the moose,\nhad broken a tooth on a tree.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said the old wolf, \"one of your grandchildren has shot at\nthe game. Take his arrow; there it is.\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Manabozho; \"what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth?\"\n\nThe old wolf took it up, and behold it was a beautiful silver arrow.\n\nWhen they at last overtook them, they found that the youngsters had\nkilled a very fat moose. Manabozho was exceedingly hungry; but the\nold wolf just then again exerted his magical powers, and Manabozho saw\nnothing but the bones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, \"Just\nas I expected! Dirty, greedy fellows! If it had not been for this log\nat my back, I should have been in time to have got a mouthful;\" and he\ncursed the bushy tail which he carried, to the bottom of his heart. He,\nhowever, sat down without saying a word.\n\nAt length the old wolf spoke to one of the young ones, saying:\n\n\"Give some meat to your grandfather.\"\n\nOne of them obeyed, and coming near to Manabozho, he presented him the\nother end of his own bushy tail, which was nicely seasoned with burrs\ngathered in the course of the hunt.\n\nManabozho jumped up and called out:\n\n\"You dog, now that your stomach is full, do you think I am going to eat\nyou to get at my dinner? Get you gone into some other place.\"\n\nSaying which, Manabozho, in his anger, walked off by himself.\n\n\"Come back, brother,\" cried the wolf. \"You are losing your eyes.\"\n\nManabozho turned back.\n\n\"You do the child injustice. Look there!\" and behold, a heap of fresh,\nruddy meat was lying on the spot, already prepared.\n\nManabozho, at the view of so much good provision, put on a smiling face.\n\n\"Amazement!\" he said; \"how fine the meat is!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the old wolf, \"it is always so with us; we know our work\nand always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes the hunter.\"\n\nManabozho hit his lip.\n\nThey now fixed their winter quarters. The youngsters went out in search\nof game, and they soon brought in a large supply. One day, during the\nabsence of the young hunters, the old wolf amused himself in cracking\nthe large bones of a moose.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said he, \"cover your head with the robe, and do not look at\nme while I am busy with these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye.\"\n\nManabozho did as he was bid; but looking through a rent in the robe, he\nsaw what the other was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off and\nhit him on the eye. He cried out:\n\n\"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?\"\n\nThe wolf answered--\"You must have been looking at me.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" retorted Manabozho, \"why should I want to look at you?\"\n\n\"Manabozho,\" said the old wolf, \"you must have been looking or you would\nnot have got hurt.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" he replied again, \"I was not.\" But he thought to himself, \"I\nwill repay the saucy wolf this mischief.\"\n\nSo the next day, taking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the\nwolf:\n\n\"Brother, cover your head and do not look at me, for I very much fear a\npiece may fly in your eye.\"\n\nThe wolf did so; and Manabozho, taking the large leg-bone of the moose,\nfirst looking to see if the wolf was well covered, hit him a blow with\nall his might. The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell prostrate from\nthe effects of the blow.\n\n\"Why,\" said he, when he came to a little and was able to sit up, \"why\ndid you strike me so?\"\n\n\"Strike you?\" said Manabozho, with well-feigned surprise. \"No; you must\nhave been looking at me.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the wolf, \"I say I have not.\"\n\nBut Manabozho insisted, and as the old wolf was no great master of\ntricky argument, he was obliged to give it up.\n\nShortly after this the old wolf suggested to Manabozho that he should go\nout and try his luck in hunting by himself.\n\nWhen he chose to put his mind upon it Manabozho was quite expert, and\nthis time he succeeded in killing a fine fat moose, which he thought he\nwould take aside slyly and devour alone, having prepared to tell the old\nwolf a pretty story on his return, to account for his failure to bring\nanything with him.\n\nHe was very hungry, and he sat down to eat; but as he never could go to\nwork in a straightforward way, he immediately fell into great doubts as\nto the proper point at which to begin.\n\n\"Well,\" said he, \"I do not know where to commence. At the head? No.\nPeople will laugh, and say--'He ate him backward.'\"\n\nHe went to the side. \"No,\" said he, \"they will say I ate him sideways.\"\n\nHe then went to the hind-quarter. \"No, that will not do, either; they\nwill say I ate him forward. I will begin here, say what they will.\"\n\nHe took a delicate piece from the small of the back and was just on the\npoint of putting it to his mouth, when a tree close by made a creaking\nnoise. He seemed vexed at the sound. He raised the morsel to his mouth\nthe second time, when the tree creaked again.\n\n\"Why,\" he exclaimed, \"I cannot eat when I hear such a noise. Stop,\nstop!\" he said to the tree. He put the meat down, exclaiming--\"I cannot\neat with such a noise\"; and starting away he climbed the tree, and was\npulling at the limb which had offended him, when his fore-paw was caught\nbetween the branches so that he could not free himself.\n\nWhile thus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves advancing through the wood\nin the direction of his meat. He suspected them to be the old wolf and\nhis cubs, but night was coming on and he could not make them out.\n\n\"Go the other way, go the other way!\" he cried out; \"what would you come\nto get here?\"\n\nThe wolves stopped for a while and talked among themselves, and said:\n\n\"Manabozho must have something there, or he would not tell us to go\nanother way.\"\n\n\"I begin to know him,\" said the old wolf, \"and all his tricks. Let us go\nforward and see.\"\n\nThey came on, and finding the moose, they soon made away with it.\nManabozho looked wistfully on to see them eat till they were fully\nsatisfied, when they scampered oft in high spirits.\n\nA heavy blast of wind opened the branches and released Manabozho, who\nfound that the wolves had left nothing but the bare bones. He made for\nhome, where, when he related his mishap, the old wolf took him by the\nfore-paw and condoled with him deeply on his ill-luck. A tear even\nstarted to his eye as he said:\n\n\"My brother, this should teach us not to meddle with points of ceremony\nwhen we have good meat to eat.\"\n\nOn a bright morning in the early spring, the winter having by this time\ndrawn fairly to a close, the old wolf addressed Manabozho:\n\n\"My brother, I am obliged to leave you; and although I have sometimes\nbeen merry at your expense, I will show that I care for your comfort. I\nshall leave one of the boys behind me to be your hunter and to keep you\ncompany through the long summer afternoons.\"\n\nThe old wolf galloped off with his five young ones; and as they\ndisappeared from view, Manabozho was disenchanted in a moment and\nreturned to his mortal shape.\n\nAlthough he had been sometimes vexed and imposed upon, he had,\naltogether, passed a pleasant winter with the cunning old wolf, and now\nthat he was gone, Manabozho was downcast and low in spirit. But as\nthe days grew brighter he recovered by degrees his air of cheerful\nconfidence and was ready to try his hand upon any new adventure that\nmight occur to him. The old spirit of mischief was still alive within\nhim.\n\nThe young wolf who had been left with him was a good hunter and never\nfailed to keep the lodge well supplied with meat. One day Manabozho\naddressed him as follows:\n\n\"My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not portend good. It\nis of the large lake which lies in that direction. You must be careful\nalways to go across it, whether the ice seem strong or not. Never go\naround it, for there are enemies on the further shore who lie in wait\nfor you. The ice is always safe.\"\n\nNow Manabozho knew well that the ice was thinning every day under the\nwarm sun, but he could not stay himself from playing a trick upon the\nyoung wolf.\n\nIn the evening when he came to the lake, after a long day's travel\nin quest of game, the young wolf, confiding to his grandfather, said,\n\"Hwooh! the ice does look thin, but Nesho says it is sound\"; and he\ntrotted upon the glassy plain.\n\nHe had not got half way across when the ice snapped, and with a\nmournful cry, the young wolf fell in and was immediately seized by the\nwater-serpents. They knew that it was Manabozho's grandson and were\nthirsting for revenge upon him for the death of their relations in the\nwar upon Pearl Feather.\n\nManabozho heard the young wolf's cry as he sat in his lodge; he knew\nwhat had happened; and from that moment he was deprived of the greater\npart of his magical power.\n\nHe returned scarcely more than an ordinary mortal to his former place\nof dwelling, whence his grandmother had departed no one knew whither.\nHe married the arrow-maker's daughter, and became the father of several\nchildren, and very poor. He was scarcely able to procure the means of\nliving. His lodge was pitched in a remote part of the country where he\ncould get no game. It was winter, and he had not the common comforts of\nlife.\n\nHe said to his wife one day:\n\n\"I will go out a-walking and see if I can not find some lodges.\"\n\nAfter walking some time he saw a lodge at a distance. The children were\nplaying at the door. When they saw him approaching they ran in and told\ntheir parents that Manabozho was coming.\n\nIt was the residence of the large red-headed woodpecker. He came to\nthe door and asked Manabozho to enter. This invitation was promptly\naccepted.\n\nAfter some time, the woodpecker, who was a magician, said to his wife:\n\n\"Have you nothing to give Manabozho? He must be hungry.\" She answered,\n\"No.\"\n\n\"He ought not to go without his supper,\" said the woodpecker. \"I will\nsee what I can do.\"\n\nIn the center of the lodge stood a large tamarack tree. Upon this the\nwoodpecker flew, and commenced going up, turning his head on each side\nof the tree and every now and then driving in his bill. At last he\npulled something out of the tree and threw it down; when, behold! a fine\nfat raccoon lay on the ground. He drew out six or seven more. He then\ndescended and told his wife to prepare them.\n\n\"Manabozho,\" he said, \"this is the only thing we eat; what else can we\ngive you?\"\n\n\"It is very good,\" replied Manabozho.\n\nThey smoked their pipes and conversed with each other.\n\nAfter eating, Manabozho got ready to go home. Then the woodpecker\nsaid to his wife, \"Give him the other raccoons to take home for his\nchildren.\"\n\nIn the act of leaving the lodge, Manabozho, on purpose, dropped one of\nhis mittens, which was soon after observed upon the ground.\n\n\"Run,\" said the woodpecker to his eldest son, \"and give it to him; but\nmind that you do not give it into his hand; throw it at him, for there\nis no knowing him, he acts so curiously.\"\n\nThe boy did as he was directed.\n\n\"Grandfather,\" said he to Manabozho, as he came up to him, \"you have\nleft one of your mittens. Here it is.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said, affecting to be ignorant of the circumstance, \"it is so;\nbut don't throw it, you will soil it on the snow.\"\n\nThe lad, however, threw it, and was about to return, when Manabozho\ncried out:\n\n\"Bakah! Bakah! stop--stop! Is that all you eat? Do you eat nothing else\nwith your raccoon? Tell me!\"\n\n\"Yes, that is all,\" answered the young Woodpecker; \"we have nothing\nelse.\"\n\n\"Tell your father,\" continued Manabozho, \"to come and visit me, and\nlet him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his\nraccoon-meat.\"\n\nWhen the young one returned and reported this message to his father, the\nold woodpecker turned up his nose at the invitation.\n\n\"I wonder,\" he said, \"what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!\"\n\nHe was bound, however, to answer the proffer of hospitality, so he went\naccordingly to pay a visit to Manabozho, taking along a cedar-sack.\n\nManabozho received the old red-headed woodpecker with great ceremony.\nHe had stood at the door awaiting his arrival, and as soon as he came in\nsight Manabozho commenced, while he was yet far off, bowing and opening\nwide his arms in token of welcome; all of which the woodpecker returned\nin due form by ducking his bill and hopping to right and left upon the\nground, extending his wings to their full length and fluttering them\nback to his breast.\n\nWhen the woodpecker at last reached the lodge, Manabozho made various\nremarks upon the weather, the appearance of the country, and especially\non the scarcity of game.\n\n\"But we,\" he added, \"we always have enough. Come in, and you shall not\ngo away hungry, my noble bird!\"\n\nManabozho had always prided himself on being able to give as good as he\nhad received; and to be up with the woodpecker, he had shifted his lodge\nso as to inclose a large dry tamarack tree.\n\n\"What can I give you?\" said he to the woodpecker. \"But as we eat so\nshall you eat.\"\n\nWith this Manabozho hopped forward, and jumping on the tamarack tree,\nattempted to climb it just as he had seen the woodpecker do in his own\nlodge. He turned his head first on one side, then on the other, in the\nmanner of the bird, meanwhile striving to go up, and as often slipping\ndown. Ever and anon he would strike the tree with his nose, as if it had\nbeen a bill, and draw back, but he pulled out no raccoons; and he dashed\nhis nose so often against the trunk that at last the blood began to\nflow, and he tumbled down senseless upon the ground.\n\nThe woodpecker started up with his drum and rattle and by beating them\nviolently be succeeded in bringing him to.\n\nAs soon as he came to his senses, Manabozbo began to lay the blame of\nhis failure upon his wife, saying to his guest:\n\n\"Nemesho, it is this woman-relation of yours--she is the cause of my not\nsucceeding. She has made me a worthless fellow. Before I took her I also\ncould get raccoons.\"\n\nThe woodpecker said nothing, but flying on the tree, drew out several\nfine raccoons.\n\n\"Here,\" said be, \"this is the way we do!\" and left in disdain, carrying\nhis bill high in the air and stepping over the door-sill as if it were\nnot worthy to be touched by his toes.\n\nAfter this visit, Manabozbo was sitting in the lodge one day with his\nhead down. He heard the wind whistling around it, and thought that by\nattentively listening he could hear the voice of some one speaking to\nhim. It seemed to say to him:\n\n\"Great chief, why are you sorrowful? Am not I your friend--your guardian\nspirit?\"\n\nManabozbo immediately took up his rattle, and without rising from the\nground where he was sitting, began to sing the chant which has at every\nclose the refrain of, \"Wha lay le aw.\"\n\nWhen he had dwelt for a long time on this peculiar chant, which he had\nbeen used to sing in all his times of trouble, he laid his rattle aside\nand determined to fast. For this purpose he went to a cave which faced\nthe setting sun and built a very small fire, near which he lay down,\nfirst telling his wife that neither she nor the children must come near\nhim till he had finished his i fast.\n\nAt the end of seven days he came back to the lodge, pale and thin,\nlooking like a spirit himself, and as if he had seen spirits. His wife\nhad in the meantime dug | through the snow and got a few of the roots\ncalled truffles. These she boiled and set before him, and this was all\nthe food they had or seemed likely to obtain.\n\nWhen he had finished his light repast, Manabozho took up his station in\nthe door to see what would happen. As he stood thus, holding in his hand\nhis large bow, with a quiver well filled with arrows, a deer glided past\nalong the far edge of the prairie; but it was miles away, and no shaft\nthat Manabozho could shoot would be able to touch it.\n\nPresently a cry come down the air, and looking up he beheld a great\nflight of birds; but they were so far up in the sky that he would have\nlost his arrows in a vain attempt among the clouds.\n\nStill he stood watchful and confident that some turn of luck was about\nto occur, when there came near to the lodge two hunters, who bore\nbetween them on poles, a bear; and it was so fine and fat a bear that it\nwas as much as the two hunters could do with all their strength to carry\nit.\n\nAs they came to the lodge-door, one of the hunters asked if Manabozho\nlived thereabout.\n\n\"He is here,\" answered Manabozho.\n\n\"I have often heard of you,\" said the first hunter, \"and I was curions\nto see you. But you have lost your magical power. Do you know whether\nany of it is left?\"\n\nManabozho answered that he was himself in the dark on the subject.\n\n\"Suppose you make a trial,\" said the hunter.\n\n\"What shall I do?\" asked Manabozho.\n\n\"There is my friend,\" said the hunter, pointing to his companion, \"who\nwith me owns this bear which we are carrying home. Suppose you see if\nyou can change him into a piece of rock.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Manabozho; and he had scarcely spoken before the other\nhunter became a rock.\n\n\"Now change him hack again,\" said the first hunter.\n\n\"That I can't do,\" Manabozho answered; \"there my power ends.\"\n\nThe hunter looked at the rock with a bewildered face.\n\n\"What shall I do?\" he asked. \"This bear I can never carry alone, and it\nwas agreed between my friend there and myself, that we should not divide\nit till we reached home. Can't you change my friend hack, Manabozho?\"\n\n\"I would like to oblige you,\" answered Manabozho, \"but it is utterly out\nof my power.\"\n\nWith this, looking again at the rock with a sad and bewildered face, and\nthen casting a sorrowful glance at the bear, which lay by the door of\nthe lodge, the hunter took his leave, bewailing bitterly at heart the\nloss of his friend and his bear.\n\nHe was scarcely out of sight when Manabozho sent the children to get\nred willow sticks. Of these he cut off as many pieces of equal length as\nwould serve to invite his friends among the beasts and birds to a feast.\nA red stick was sent to each one, not forgetting the woodpecker and his\nfamily.\n\n\"When they arrived they were astonished to see such an abundance of meat\nprepared for them at such a time of scarcity. Manabozho understood their\nglance and was proud of a chance to make such a display.\n\n\"Akewazi,\" he said to the oldest of the party, \"the weather is very\ncold, and the snow lasts a long time; we can kill nothing now but small\nsquirrels, and they are all black. I have sent for you to help me eat\nsome of them.\"\n\nThe woodpecker was the first to try a mouthful of the bear's meat, but\nhe had no sooner begun to taste it than it changed into a dry powder and\nset him coughing. It appeared as bitter as ashes.\n\nThe moose was affected in the same way, and it brought on such a dry\ncough as to shake every bone in his body.\n\nOne by one, each in turn joined the company of coughers, except\nManabozho and his family, to whom the bear's meat proved very savory.\n\nBut the visitors had too high a sense of what was due to decorum and\ngood manners to say anything. The meat looked very fine, and being\nkeenly set and strongly tempted by its promising look, they thought they\nwould try more of it. The more they ate the faster they coughed and the\nlouder became the uproar, until Mana-bozho, exerting the magical gift\nwhich he found he retained, changed them all into squirrels; and to this\nday the squirrel sutlers from the same dry cough which was brought on by\nattempting to sup off of Manabozho's ashen bear's meat.\n\nAnd even after this transformation, when Mana-bozho lacked provisions\nfor his family, he would hunt the squirrel, a supply of which never\nfailed him, so that he was always sure to have a number of his friends\npresent, in this shape, at the banquet.\n\nThe rock into which he changed the hunter, thus becoming possessed of\nthe bear, and laying the foundations of his good fortune, ever\nafter remained by his lodge-door, and it was called the Game-Bag of\nMana-bozho, the Mischief-Maker.\n\n[Illustration: 0059]\n\n\n\n\nIII. THE RED SWAN\n\n\n|THREE brothers were left destitute at an early age by the death of\ntheir parents. The eldest was not yet able to provide fully for their\nsupport, but he did all that he could in hunting; and with this aid, and\nthe stock of provisions already laid by in the lodge, they managed to\nkeep along. They had no neighbors to lend them a helping hand, for the\nfather had withdrawn many years before from the body of the tribe and\nhad lived ever since in a solitary place. The lads had no idea that\nthere was a human being near them. They did not even know who their\nparents had been; for at the time of their death, the eldest was too\nyoung to remember it.\n\nForlorn as they were, they nevertheless kept a good heart, made use of\nevery chance and in course of time acquired a knowledge of hunting\nand the pursuit of game. The eldest became expert in the craft of the\nforest, and he was very successful in procuring food. He was noted for\nhis skill in killing buffalo, elk, and moose; and he instructed his\nbrothers, so that each should become a master over a particular animal\nwhich was assigned to him.\n\nAfter they had become able to hunt and to take care of themselves, the\nelder proposed to leave them and to go in search of the world, promising\nto return and bring them wives as soon as he could procure them. In this\nintention he was over-ruled by his brothers, who said that they could\nnot part with him.\n\nJeekewis, the second, was loud in disapproval of the scheme, saying:\n\"What will you do with those you propose to get? We have lived so long\nby ourselves, we can still do without them.\" This counsel prevailed, and\nfor a time the three brothers continued together.\n\nOne day they each agreed to kill a male of that kind of animal which\neach was most expert in hunting, for the purpose of making quivers\nfrom the skins. When these quivers were prepared, they were straightway\nfilled with arrows; for the brothers all had a presentiment that\nsomething was about to happen which called upon them to be ready.\n\nSoon after they hunted on a wager to see who should come in first with\ngame. This one was to have the privilege of acting as entertainer to the\nothers, but they were to shoot no other beast or bird than such as each\nwas in the habit of killing.\n\nThey set out on different paths. Maidwa, the youngest, had not gone far\nbefore he saw a bear, an animal he was not to kill, according to the\nagreement. He, however, followed him closely, and driving an arrow\nthrough and through him, brought him to the ground.\n\nThen Maidwa commenced skinning him, when suddenly something red tinged\nthe air all around him. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was perhaps\ndeceived; but rub as hard as he would, the red hue still crimsoned the\nair, and tinged with its delicate splendor every object that he looked\non--the tree-tops, the river that flowed, and the deer that glided away\nalong the edge of the forest.\n\nAs he stood musing on this fairy spectacle, a strange noise came to his\near from a distance. At first it seemed like a human voice. Following\nthe sound, he reached the shore of a lake. Floating at a distance upon\nits waters sat a most beautiful Red Swan, whose plumage glittered in\nthe sun. When it lifted up its neck, it uttered the peculiar tone he had\nheard. He was within long bow-shot, and, drawing the arrow to his ear,\nhe took careful aim and discharged the shaft. It had no effect. The\nbeautiful bird sat proudly on the water still pouring forth its peculiar\nchant, still spreading the radiance of its plumage far and wide, and\nlighting up the whole world with its ruby splendors.\n\nMaidwa shot again and again, till his quiver was empty, for he longed\nto possess so glorious a creature. But the swan, untouched, did not even\nspread its wings to fly. Circling round and round, it stretched its long\nneck and dipped its bill into the water, as if indifferent to mortal\nshafts.\n\nMaidwa ran home, and bringing all the arrows in the lodge, shot them\naway. He then stood with his bow dropped at his side, lost in wonder,\ngazing at the beautiful bird.\n\nWhile standing thus, with a heart beating more and more eagerly every\nmoment for the possession of this fair swan, Maidwa remembered the\nsaying of his elder brother, that in their dead father's medicine-sack\nwere three magic arrows; but his brother had not told Maidwa that their\nfather, on his death-bed, had especially bequeathed the arrows to his\nyoungest son, Maidwa, from whom they had been wrongfully kept. The\nthought of the magic arrows put heart in Maidwa, and he hastened with\nall speed to procure them.\n\nAt any other time he would have shrunk from opening his father's\nmedicine-sack, but something prompted him to believe that there was\nno wrong in it now, and snatching the arrows forth, he ran back, not\nstaying to restore the other contents to the sack but leaving them\nscattered, here and there, about the lodge.\n\nHe feared that the swan must by this time have taken wing; but as he\nemerged from the wood, he found to his great delight the air as rosy\nas ever, and there sat the glorious Red Swan in her own serene and\nbeautiful way.\n\nWith trembling hand he shot the first of his magic shafts; it grazed\na wing. The second came closer, and cut away a few of the bright red\nfeathers, which fluttered and fell like flakes of fire in the water. The\nthird, which he carefully aimed and drew home upon the string with all\nhis force, made the lucky hit, and passed through the neck of the bird a\nlittle above the breast.\n\n[Illustration: 0065]\n\n\"She is mine,\" cried Maidwa, but to his great surprise, instead of\ndrooping its neck and drifting to the shore, the Red Swan flapped its\nwings, rose slowly, and flew off with a majestic motion toward the\nfalling sun.\n\nMaidwa, that he might meet his brothers with a good face, rescued two of\nthe magic arrows from the water. And although the third was borne off,\nhe had a hope yet to recover that one, too, and to be master of the\nswan. He was noted for his speed; for he would shoot an arrow and then\nrun so fast that the arrow always fell behind him. He now set off at his\nbest speed of foot.\n\n\"I can run fast,\" he thought, \"and I can get up with the swan sometime\nor other.\"\n\nHe sped on over hills and prairies toward the west, and was only going\nto take one more run and then seek a place to sleep for the night,\nwhen, suddenly, he heard noises at a distance, like the murmur of waters\nagainst the shore. As he went on, he heard voices, and presently he saw\npeople, some of whom were busy felling trees, the strokes of their labor\nechoing through the woods. He passed on, and when he emerged from the\nforest, the sun was just falling below the edge of the sky.\n\nHe was bent on success in pursuit of the swan, whose red track he marked\nwell far westward till she was lost to sight. Meanwhile he would tarry\nfor the night and procure something to eat, as he had fasted since he\nhad left home.\n\nAt a distance, on rising ground, he could see the lodges of a large\nvillage. He went toward it and soon heard the voice of the watchman,\nwho was set on a height to overlook the place and give notice of the\napproach of friends or foes. \"We are visited,\" he cried, and a loud\nhalloo indicated that all had heard it.\n\nWhen Maidwa advanced, the watchman pointed to the lodge of the chief.\n\"It is there you must go in,\" he said, and left him.\n\n\"Come in, come in,\" said the chief; \"take a seat there,\" pointing to the\nside of the lodge where his daughter sat. \"It is there you must sit.\"\n\nThey gave him something to eat, and very few questions were put to him,\nbecause he was a stranger; it was only when he spoke that the others\nanswered.\n\n\"Daughter,\" said the chief, as soon as the night had set in, \"take out\nson-in-law's moccasins and see if they be torn; if so, mend them for him\nand bring in his bundle.\"\n\nMaidwa thought it strange that he should be so warmly received, and\ninstantly married against his own wishes, although he could not help\nnoticing that the chief's daughter was pretty.\n\nIt was some time before she would take the moccasins which he had laid\noff. It displeased him to see her loth to do so; and when at last she\ndid reach them, he snatched them from her hand and hung them up himself.\nHe lay down and thought of the swan, and made up his mind to be off with\nthe dawn. He wakened early, and finding the chief's daughter looking\nforth at the door, he spoke to her, but she gave no answer. He touched\nher lightly.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she said, and turned her face away from him.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said Maidwa, \"what time the swan passed. I am following it;\ncome out, and point the way.\"\n\n\"Do you think you can overtake it?\" she said.\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered.\n\n\"Naubesah--fool!\" retorted the chief's pretty daughter.\n\nShe went out, however, and pointed in the direction he should go. The\nyoung man paced slowly along till the sun arose, when he commenced\ntraveling at his accustomed speed. He passed the day in running, and\nalthough he could not see the Red Swan anywhere on the horizon, he\nthought that he discerned a faint red light far over in the west.\n\nWhen night came, he was pleased to find himself near another village.\nWhen still at a distance he heard the watchman crying out, \"We are\nvisited,\" and soon the men of the village stood out to see the stranger.\n\nHe was again told to enter the lodge of the chief, and his reception\nwas in every respect the same as on the previous night; except that this\nyoung woman was more beautiful than the first, and that she entertained\nhim very kindly. Although urged to stay with them, the mind of Maidwa\nwas fixed on the object of his journey.\n\nBefore daybreak he asked the young woman at what time the Red Swan\npassed, and to point out the way. She marked against the sky with\nher finger the course it had taken, and told him that it had passed\nyesterday when the sun was between midday and its falling-place.\n\nMaidwa again set out rather slowly, but when the sun had risen, he\ntried his speed by shooting an arrow ahead and running after it; it fell\nbehind him, and he knew that he had lost nothing of his quickness of\nfoot.\n\nNothing remarkable happened through the day, and he went on leisurely.\nSome time after dark, as he was peering around the country for shelter,\nhe saw a light emitted from a small low lodge. He went up to it very\nslyly, and, peeping through the door, he discovered an old man alone,\nwith his head down upon his breast, warming his back before the fire.\n\nMaidwa thought that the old man did not know that he was standing near\nthe door; but in this he was mistaken, for, without turning his eyes to\nlook at him, the old man said:\n\n\"Walk in, my grandchild; take a seat opposite to me, and take off\nyour things and dry them, for you must be fatigued. I will prepare you\nsomething to eat; you shall have something very delicate.\"\n\nMaidwa accepted this kind invitation and entered the lodge. The old man\nthen remarked, as if in mere course of conversation:\n\n\"My kettle with water stands near the fire.\" Immediately a small earthen\npot with legs appeared by the fire. He then took one grain of corn, also\none of whortleberry, and put them in the pot.\n\nMaidwa was very hungry, and seeing the limited scale of the old man's\nhousekeeping, he thought his chance for a supper was slight. The old man\nhad promised him something very delicate, and he seemed likely to keep\nhis word. But Maidwa looked on silently, and did not change his face any\nmore than if the greatest banquet that was ever spread had been going\nforward.\n\nThe pot soon boiled, whereupon the old man said in a very quiet way:\n\n\"The pot will stand at a distance from the fire.\"\n\nThe pot removed itself, and the old man added to Maidwa:\n\n\"My grandchild, feed yourself,\" handing him at the same time a dish and\nladle of the same ware as the pot itself.\n\nThe young man, whose hunger was very great, helped himself to all that\nwas in the pot. He felt ashamed to think that he had done so, but before\nhe could speak the old man said:\n\n\"Eat, my grandchild; eat, eat!\" and soon after he again said--\"Help\nyourself from the pot.\"\n\nMaidwa was surprised, on dipping in his ladle, to see that the pot\nwas full; and although he emptied it a second time, it was still again\nfilled and refilled till his hunger was entirely satisfied. The old man\nthen observed, without raising his voice:\n\n\"The pot will return to its corner,\" and the pot took itself off to its\naccustomed place in an out-of-the-way corner of the lodge.\n\nMaidwa observed that the old man was about to address him, and took an\nattitude which showed that he was prepared to listen.\n\n\"Keep on, my grandchild,\" said the old man; \"you will surely gain that\nwhich you seek. To tell you more I am not permitted; but go on as you\nhave begun and you will not be disappointed. To-morrow you will again\nreach one of my fellow old men, but it is the one you will see after\nhim who will tell you all, and the manner in which you must proceed to\naccomplish your journey. Often has this Red Swan passed, and those\nwho have followed it have never returned; but you must be firm in your\nresolution, and be prepared for all that may happen.\"\n\n\"So will it be,\" answered Maidwa; and they both lay down to sleep.\n\nEarly in the morning the old man ordered his magic kettle to prepare\nbreakfast, so that his guest might eat before leaving. As Maidwa passed\nout, the old man gave him a blessing with his parting advice.\n\nMaidwa set forth in better spirits than at any time since he had\nstarted; and night again found him in company with another old man who\nalso had a frisky little kettle which hurried up to the fire before it\nwas spoken to, bustled about and set supper briskly before Maidwa,\nand then frisked away again, without waiting for orders. This old man\nentertained him kindly and also carefully directed him on his way in the\nmorning.\n\nHe traveled with a light heart, as he now expected to meet the one who\nwas to give him directions how to proceed to get the Red Swan.\n\nToward night-fall Maidwa reached the lodge of the third old man. Before\ncoming to the door he heard him saying:\n\n\"Grandchild, come in.\" And going in promptly he felt quite at home.\n\nThe old man prepared him something to eat, acting as the other magicians\nhad done; and his kettle was of the same size, and looked as if it were\nan own brother of the two others which had feasted him, except that this\nkettle, in coming and going about its household duties, would make a\npassing remark or sing a little tune for itself.\n\nThe old man waited until Maidwa had fully satisfied his hunger before he\naddressed him:\n\n\"Young man, the errand you are bound on is beset with trials and\ndifficulties. Numbers have passed with the same purpose as that which\nnow prompts you, but they never returned. Be careful, and if your\nguardian spirits are powerful, you may succeed. This Red Swan you are\nfollowing is the daughter of a magician who has abundance of everything,\nbut only this one child, whom he values more than the sacred arrows. In\nformer times he wore a cap of wampum, which was attached to his scalp;\nbut powerful Indians, warriors of a distant chief, came and told him\nthat their chief's daughter was on the brink of the grave, and that she\nherself requested his wampum-cap, which she was confident would save\nher life. 'If I can only see it,' she said, 'I will recover.' It was\nfor this cap they had come, and after long solicitation the magician\nat length consented to part with it, in hope that it would restore to\nhealth the dying maiden, although when he took it off to hand it to the\nmessengers it left the crown of his head bare and bloody. Years have\npassed since, and his head has not healed. The coming of the warriors\nto procure the cap for the sick maiden was a cheat, and they are now\nconstantly making sport of the unhappy scalp--dancing it about from\nvillage to village--and on every insult it receives the poor old chief\nto whom it belongs groans with pain. Those who hold it are too powerful\nfor the magician, and many have sacrificed themselves to recover it for\nhim, but without success. The Red Swan has enticed many a young man,\nas she has you, to enlist them to procure the scalp, and whoever is so\nfortunate as to succeed, it is understood, will receive the Red Swan\nas his reward. In the morning you will proceed on your way, and toward\nevening you will come to this magician's lodge. You will know it by the\ngroans which you will hear far over the prairie as you approach. He will\nask you in. You will see no one but himself. He will question you much\nas to your dreams and the strength of your guardian spirits. If he is\nsatisfied with your answers, he will urge you to attempt the recovery\nof his scalp. He will show you the course to take, and if you feel\ninclined, as I see that you shall, go forward, my son, with a strong\nheart; persevere, and I have a presentiment that you will succeed.\"\n\nMaidwa answered, \"I will try.\"\n\nBetimes in the morning he set off on his journey, after having eaten\nfrom the magic kettle, which sang a sort of farewell chant on its way\nfrom the fireplace to its station in the corner.\n\nToward evening as he crossed a prairie, Maidwa heard groans from a\ndistant lodge, which were only interrupted by a voice from a person whom\nhe could not see, calling to him aloud:\n\n\"Come in! come in!\"\n\nAs the young man entered the lodge, the magician heaved a great groan\nfrom the very bottom of his chest, and Maidwa saw that the crown of his\nhead was all bare and bloody.\n\n\"Sit down, sit down,\" he said, \"while I prepare you something to eat.\nYou see how poor I am. I have to attend to all my own wants, with no\nother servant than that poor little kettle in the corner. Kettle, we\nwill have something to eat, if you please.\"\n\n\"In a moment,\" the kettle spoke up from the corner.\n\n\"You will oblige me by making all the despatch you can,\" said the\nmagician, in a very humble tone, still addressing the kettle.\n\n\"Have patience,\" replied the kettle, \"and I will be with you presently.\"\n\nAfter a considerable delay, there came forward ont of the corner from\nwhich it had spoken a great heavy-browed and pot-bellied kettle, which\nadvanced with much stateliness and solemnity of manner till it had come\ndirectly in front of the magician, whom it addressed with the question:\n\n\"What shall we have, sir?\"\n\n\"Corn, if you please,\" the magician answered.\n\n\"No, we will have whortleberries,\" rejoined the kettle, in a firm voice.\n\n\"Very well; just as you choose.\"\n\nWhen he supposed it was time, the magician invited Maidwa to help\nhimself.\n\n\"Hold a minute,\" interposed the kettle, as Maidwa was about to dip in\nhis ladle. He paused, and after a delay, the kettle, shaking itself up\nand simmering very loudly, said, \"Now we are ready.\"\n\nMaidwa fell to and satisfied his hunger.\n\n\"Will the kettle now withdraw?\" asked the magician, with an air of much\ndeference.\n\n\"No,\" said the kettle, \"we will stay and hear what the young man has to\nsay for himself.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the magician. \"You see,\" he added to Maidwa, \"how poor\nI am. I have to take counsel with the kettle, or I should be all alone,\nwithout a day's food, and with no one to advise me.\"\n\nAll this time the Red Swan was carefully concealed in the lodge, behind\na curtain, from which Maidwa heard now and then a rustling noise that\nfluttered his spirits and set his heart to beating at a wonderful rate.\n\nAs soon as Maidwa had partaken of food and laid aside his leggings and\nmoccasins, the old magician commenced telling him how he had lost his\nscalp, the insults it was receiving, the pain he suffered thereby, his\nwishes to regain it, the many unsuccessful attempts that had already\nbeen made, and the numbers and power of those who retained it. He would\ninterrupt his discourse at times with sudden groans, and say:\n\n\"Oh, how shamefully they are treating it.\"\n\nMaidwa listened to all the old magician had to say with solemn\nattention.\n\nThe magician renewed his discourse and inquired of Maidwa as to his\ndreams, or what he saw in his sleep, at such times as he had fasted and\ndarkened his face to procure guardian spirits.\n\nMaidwa then told him one dream. The magician groaned.\n\n\"No, that is not it,\" he said.\n\nMaidwa told him of two or three others.\n\nThe magician groaned again and again and said, rather peevishly, \"No,\nthese are not the dreams.\"\n\n\"Keep cool,\" said the kettle. It had left the fire and was standing in\nthe middle of the floor, where a pleasant breeze was blowing through the\nlodge. Then it added, \"Have you no more dreams of another kind?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Maidwa, and he told him one.\n\n\"That will do,\" said the kettle. \"We are much pleased with that.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is it--that is it!\" the magician added. \"You will cause me to\nlive. That was what I was wishing you to say. Will you then go and see\nif you can not recover my poor scalp?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Maidwa, \"I will go; and the day after to-morrow, when you\nhear the ka-kak cries of the hawk, you will know that I am successful.\nYou must prepare your head, and lean it out through the door, so that\nthe moment I arrive I may place your scalp on.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" said the magician. \"As you say it will be done.\"\n\nEarly the next morning, Maidwa set out to fulfil his promise; and in\nthe afternoon, when the sun hangs toward home, he heard the shouts of a\ngreat many people. He was in a wood at the time, and saw, as he thought,\nonly a few men, but as he went on they increased in numbers. When he\nemerged upon the plain, their heads appeared like the hanging leaves,\nthey were so many.\n\nIn the middle of the plain he perceived a post and something waving at\nits top. It was the wampum scalp; and every now and then the air was\nrent with the war-song, for they were dancing the war-dance in high\nspirit around it.\n\nBefore he could be observed, Maidwa changed himself into a humming-bird,\nand flew toward the scalp. When he passed some of those who were\nstanding by, he came close to their ears; as they heard the rapid whirr\nor murmur which this bird makes when it flies, they jumped aside and\nasked each other what it could be. Maidwa by this time had nearly\nreached the scalp, but fearing that he should be perceived while untying\nit, he again changed himself into the down that floats lightly on the\nair, and sailed slowly on to the scalp. He loosened it, and moved\noff heavily, as the weight was almost too great for him to carry. The\nIndians around would have snatched it away had not a lucky current of\nair just then buoyed him up. As they saw that it was moving away they\ncried out:\n\n\"It is taken from us! it is taken from us!\"\n\nMaidwa was borne gently along but a little way above their heads; and\nas they followed him, the rush and hum of the people was like the dead\nheating of the surges upon a lake shore after a storm. But the good\nwind, gaining strength, soon carried him beyond their pursuit. A little\nfurther on he changed himself into a hawk and flew swiftly off with his\ntrophy, crying, \"Ka-kak! ka-kak!\" till the hawk cry resounded with its\nshrill tone throughout the whole country, far and wide.\n\nMeanwhile the magician had remembered the instructions of Maidwa,\nplacing his head outside of the lodge as soon as he heard the ka-kak cry\nof the hawk.\n\nIn a moment Maidwa came past with rustling wings, and as he flew he gave\nthe magician a severe blow on the head with the wampum-scalp. The old\nman's limbs extended and quivered in pain, but the scalp adhered,\njust as Maidwa, in his own person, walked into the lodge and sat down,\nfeeling perfectly at home.\n\nThe magician was so long in recovering from the stunning blow which\nhad been dealt him, that Maidwa feared he had destroyed his life in\nrestoring the crown of his head. Presently, however, he was pleased to\nsee him show by the motion of his hands and limbs that his strength was\nreturning; and in a little while he rose and stood upon his feet. What\nwas the delight of Maidwa to behold, instead of a withered old man far\nadvanced in years and stricken in sorrow, a bright and cheerful youth,\nwho glittered with life as he stood up before him.\n\n\"Thank you, my friend,\" he said. \"Your kindness and bravery of heart\nhave restored me to my former shape. It was so ordained, and you have\nnow accomplished the victory.\"\n\nThey embraced, and the young magician urged the stay of his deliverer\nfor a few days. This invitation Maidwa was glad to accept and they\nformed a strong attachment to each other.\n\nThe magician, to the deep regret of Maidwa, never once alluded to the\nRed Swan in all their conferences.\n\nAt last the day arrived when Maidwa prepared to return to his home. The\nyoung magician bestowed on him ample presents of wampum, fur, robes, and\nother costly things. Although Maidwa's heart was burning within him to\nsee the Red Swan, to hear her spoken of, and to learn what his fortune\nwas to be in regard to that fond object of his pursuit, he constrained\nhis feelings and so checked his countenance as never to look where he\nsupposed she might be. His friend the young magician observed the same\nsilence and caution.\n\nMaidwa's pack for traveling was now ready, and he was taking his\nfarewell smoke, when the young magician thus addressed him:\n\n\"My friend Maidwa, you know for what cause you came thus far, and why\nyou have risked so much and waited so long. You have proved my friend\nindeed. You have accomplished your object, and your noble perseverance\nshall not go unrewarded. If you undertake other things with the same\nspirit, you will always succeed. My destiny compels me to remain where\nI am, although I should feel happy to be allowed to go with you. I have\ngiven you, of ordinary gifts, all you will need as long as you live;\nbut I see you are backward to speak of the Red Swan. I appreciate your\ndelicacy, but I vowed that whoever procured me my lost wampum-scalp\nshould be rewarded by possessing her.\"\n\nHe then spoke in a language which Maidwa did not understand, the curtain\nof the lodge parted, and the Red Swan met his delighted gaze. It was a\nbeautiful maiden that he beheld, so majestic and airy in her look, that\nhe seemed to see a creature whose home should rather be in the free\nheaven, among the rosy clouds, than in this dusky lodge.\n\n\"Take her,\" the young magician said, \"she is my sister; treat her well.\nShe is worthy of you, and what you have done for me merits more. She is\nready to go with you to your kindred and friends, and has been so ever\nsince your arrival. My good wishes shall go with you both.\"\n\nThe Red Swan smiled kindly on Maidwa, who advanced and greeted her. Hand\nin hand, then, they took their way forth from the lodge, and, watched\nby the young magician, advanced across the prairie on their homeward\ncourse.\n\nThey traveled slowly and looked with double joy on the beautiful country\nover which they had both so lately passed with hearts ill at ease.\n\nAfter two or three days they reached the lodge of the third old man\nwho had entertained him with the singing kettle; but the kettle was not\nthere. The old man, nevertheless, received them very kindly, and said to\nMaidwa:\n\n\"You see what your perseverance has secured you; do so always, and you\nwill succeed in whatever you undertake.\"\n\nOn the following morning, when they were about to start, he pulled from\nthe side of the lodge a bag, which he presented to Maidwa, saying:\n\n\"Grandchild, I give you this; it contains a present for you; and I hope\nyou will live happily till old age.\"\n\nBidding him farewell, they again set forward; and they soon came to the\nsecond old man's lodge. He also gave them a present and bestowed his\nblessing.\n\nNor did Maidwa see anything here of the frisky little kettle which had\nbeen so lively on his former visit.\n\nAs they went on and came to the lodge of the first old man, their\nreception and farewell were the same; only when Maidwa glanced to the\ncorner he failed to see the silent kettle, which had served him so well.\nThe old man smiled when he discovered the direction of Maidwa's glance,\nbut he said nothing.\n\nWhen, on continuing their journey, they at last approached the first\ntown that Maidwa passed in his pursuit, the watchman gave notice as\nbefore, and Maidwa was shown into the chief's lodge.\n\n\"Sit down there, son-in-law,\" said the chief, pointing to a place near\nhis daughter. \"And you also,\" he said to the Red Swan.\n\nThe chief's daughter was engaged in coloring a girdle, and, as\nindifferent to these visitors, she did not even raise her head.\nPresently the chief said, \"Let some one bring in the bundle of our\nson-in-law.\"\n\nWhen the bundle was laid before him, Maidwa opened one of the bags\nwhich had been given to him. It was filled with various costly\narticles--wampum, robes, and trinkets of much richness and value;\nthese, in token of his kindness, he presented to the chief. The chief's\ndaughter stole a glance at the costly gifts, then at Maidwa and his\nbeautiful wife. She stopped working and was silent and thoughtful all\nthe evening. The chief himself talked with Maidwa of his adventures,\ncongratulated him on his good fortune, and concluded by telling him that\nhe should take his daughter along with him in the morning.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Maidwa.\n\nThe chief then spoke up, saying, \"Daughter, be ready to go with him in\nthe morning.\"\n\nNow it happened when the chief was thus speaking that there was a\nfoolish fellow in the lodge, who had thought to have got this chief's\ndaughter for a wife. He jumped up, looked grimly at Maidwa, and said:\n\"Who is he that he should take her for a few presents? I will kill him.\"\n\nAnd he raised a knife which he had in his hand and gave it a mighty\nflourish in the air. He kept up this terrible flourish till some one\ncame and pulled him back to his seat. He had been waiting for this and\nyielded quietly enough.\n\nAt peep of day amid the greetings of their new friends, Maidwa and the\nRed Swan, with the chief's daughter, took their leave. Toward evening\nthey reached the other town. The watchman gave the signal, and numbers\nof men, women and children stood out to see them. They were again\nshown into the chief's lodge, and the chief welcomed Maidwa, saying:\n\"Son-in-law, you are welcome.\"\n\nAnd he requested Maidwa to take a seat by his daughter, and the two\nwomen did the same.\n\nAfter suitable refreshments for all, and while Maidwa smoked a pipe,\nthe chief asked him to relate his adventures in the hearing of all the\ninmates of the lodge and of the strangers who had gathered in at report\nof his singular fortunes.\n\nMaidwa gave them his whole story. When he came to those parts which\nrelated to the Red Swan, they turned and looked upon her in wonder and\nadmiration, for she was very beautiful.\n\nThe chief then informed Maidwa that his brothers had been to their town\nin search of him, but that they had gone back some time before, having\ngiven up all hopes of ever seeing him again.\n\n\"But you are a man of spirit,\" the chief continued, \"whom fortune is\npleased to befriend. Take my daughter with you and treat her well. So\nshall we be more closely bound together.\"\n\nIt is always the case in an assembly or gathering that some one of the\nnumber is foolish and disposed to play the clown. It happened to be so\nhere. One of this very sort was in the lodge, and now this pretender\njumped up in a passion and cried out:\n\n\"Who is this stranger, that he should have her? I want her myself.\"\n\nThe chief bade him be quiet, and not to disturb or quarrel with one who\nwas enjoying their hospitality.\n\n\"No, no,\" he exclaimed, rushing forward as in act to strike.\n\nMaidwa sat unmoved and paid no heed to his threats.\n\nHe cried the louder--\"I will have her, I will have her!\" whereupon the\nold chief, being now vexed past patience, took his great war-club and\ntapped this clownish fellow upon the head, which so far subdued him\nthat he sat for some time quite still; when, after a while, he came to\nhimself, the chief upbraided him for his folly and told him to go out\nand tell stories to the old women.\n\nWhen at last Maidwa was about to leave he made rich presents and invited\na number of the families of the chief to go with him and visit his\nhunting-grounds, where he promised them that they would find game in\nabundance. They consented, and in the morning a large company assembled\nand joined Maidwa; and the chief, with a party of warriors, escorted\nthem a long distance. When ready to return, the chief made a speech and\nbesought the blessing of the Good Spirit on Maidwa and his friends.\n\nThe two companies parted, marching away over the prairie, each on its\nown course, their waving feathers glittering in the morning sun, their\nwar-drums sounding afar.\n\nAfter several days' travel, Maidwa and his friends came in sight of his\nhome. The others rested within the woods while he went alone in advance\nto see his brothers.\n\nHe entered the lodge. It was all in confusion and covered with ashes. On\none side was his elder brother, sitting among the cinders, with his\nface blackened, and crying aloud. On the other side sat the younger,\nJee-kewis, also with blackened face, his head covered with stray\nfeathers and tufts of swan-down. This one presented so curious a\nfigure that Maidwa could not keep from laughing. He seemed to be so lost\nand far-gone in grief that he could not notice his brother's arrival.\nThe eldest, however, lifted up his head and recognized Maidwa, then\njumped up and shook hands, kissed him, and expressed much joy at his\nreturn.\n\nMaidwa, as soon as he had received his brother's greeting, made known\nthat he had brought each of; them a wife. And now Jeekewis, hearing a\nwife spoken of, roused from his torpor and sprang to his feet, crying\nloudly:\n\n\"Why, did you come just now?\" and at once made for the door and peeped\nout to see the strangers. He then commenced jumping and laughing and\ncrying out, \"Women! women!\" and that was all the reception he: gave his\nbrother. But Maidwa told them to wash themselves and put the lodge in\norder while he went to fetch the wives in.\n\nJeekewis scampered about and began to wash himself; but he would every\nnow and then, with one side of his head all feathers and the other clear\nand shining, peep forth to look at the women again. When they came near,\nhe said, \"I will have this one. No, that one\"; he did not exactly know\nwhich; he would sit down for an instant, and then rise, and peep about\nand laugh; in fact he acted like one beside himself.\n\nAs soon as order was restored, and all the company who had been brought\nin were seated, Maidwa presented one of the chief's daughters to his\neldest brother, saying: \"These women were given to me, to dispose of in\nmarriage. I now give one to each. I intended so from the first.\"\n\nMaidwa led the other daughter to Jeekewis and said, \"My brother, here is\na wife for you. Live happily.\"\n\nJeekewis hung down his head as if he were ashamed, but he would every\nnow and then steal a look at his wife and also at the other women.\n\nBy and by he turned toward his wife and acted as if he had been married\nfor years.\n\nMaidwa, seeing that no preparation had been made to entertain the\ncompany, said, \"Are we to have no supper?\"\n\nHe had no sooner spoken, than forth from a corner stepped the silent\nkettle, which placed itself by the fire and began bubbling and boiling\nquite briskly. Presently this was joined by the big talking kettle,\nwhich said, addressing itself to Maidwa, \"Master, we shall be ready\npresently.\" And then, dancing along, there came from still another\ncorner the frisky little kettle, which hopped to their side and took\nan active part in the preparations for the evening meal. When all was\nnearly ready, a delicate voice was heard singing in the last corner of\nthe lodge, and keeping up its dainty carol all the way to the fireplace,\nthe fourth kettle joined the three cooks. Then they all fell to with all\ntheir might to despatch their work in the best possible humor.\n\nIt was not long before the big kettle advanced toward Maidwa and said,\nin his own confident way, \"Supper is ready!\"\n\nThe feast was a jovial one, for they were all hungry, and plied their\nladles with right good will. And yet the four magic kettles held out,\ndip in as often as they would, and had plenty to the end of the revel.\n\nAnd now to draw to a close, Maidwa and his friends lived in peace for\na time; their town prospered; there was no lack of children; and\neverything else was in abundance.\n\nBut one day the two brothers began to look darkly upon Maidwa. They\nreproached him for having taken from the medicine-sack their dead\nfather's magic arrows; they upbraided him especially that one was lost.\n\nAfter listening to them in silence, he said that he would go in search\nof the lost arrow, and that it should be restored; and the very next\nday, true to his word, he left them.\n\nAfter traveling a long way and looking in every direction, almost\nhopeless of discovering the lost treasure, he came to an opening in\nthe earth. When he descended this, it led him to the abode of departed\nspirits. The country appeared beautiful, the pastures were greener than\nhis own, the sky bluer than that which hung over the lodge, and the\nextent of it was utterly lost in a dim distance. Moreover he saw animals\nof every kind wandering about in great numbers. The first he came to\nwere buffalos; and his surprise was great when they addressed him as\nhuman beings.\n\nThey asked him what he came for, how he had descended, and why he was so\nbold as to visit the abode of the dead.\n\nHe answered that he was in quest of a magic arrow, to appease the anger\nof his brothers.\n\n\"Very well,\" said the leader of the buffalos, whose form was nothing\nbut bone. \"Yes, we know it,\" and he and his followers moved off a little\nspace from Maidwa, as if they were afraid of him. \"You have come,\"\nresumed the buffalo-spirit, \"to a place where a living man has never\nbefore been. Return immediately to your tribe, for under pretence of\nrecovering one of the magic arrows which belong to you by your father's\ndying wish, your brothers have sent you off so that they may become\npossessed of your beautiful wife, the Red Swan. Speed home! You will\nfind the magic arrow at the lodge-door. You will live to a very old age,\nand die happily. You can go no farther in these abodes of ours.\"\n\nMaidwa looked, as he thought, to the west, and saw a bright light as if\nthe sun was shining in its splendor, but he saw no sun.\n\n\"What light is that yonder?\" he asked.\n\nThe buffalo whose form was nothing but bone answered--\"It is the place\nwhere those who were good dwell.\"\n\n\"And that dark cloud?\" Maidwa again asked.\n\n\"It is the place of the wicked,\" answered the buffalo.\n\nThis cloud was very dark and to look upon it pained his eyes. So Maidwa\nmoved away with the help of his guardian spirits, stood upon the earth\nagain, and beheld the sun giving light as usual.\n\nAll else that he learned in the abodes of the dead is unknown, for he\nnever spoke of it to any human being.\n\nAfter regaining the earth and wandering a long time to gather knowledge\nto make his people happy and to add to their comfort, he drew near to\nhis village one evening. Passing all the other lodges he came to his own\ndoor, where he found the magic arrow, as he had been promised. He heard\nhis brothers within at high words with each other. They were quarrelling\nfor the possession of his wife, who had remained constant through all\nhis absence, and sadly awaited his return. Maidwa listened in shame and\nsorrow.\n\nHe entered the lodge, holding his head aloft as one conscious of good\nprinciple and shining with anger. He spoke not a word, but placing the\nmagic arrow to his bow, he would have laid his brothers dead at his\nfeet.\n\nJust then, however, the talking kettle stepped forward and spoke such\nwords of wisdom, the singing kettle trolled forth such a soothing little\nsong, the guilty brothers were so contrite and keenly repentant of their\nintended wrong, the Red Swan was so radiant and forgiving, the silent\nkettle straightway served them up so hearty and wholesome a meal, and\nthe frisky little kettle was so joyful and danced about so merrily, that\nMaidwa decided to forgive them. And when the magic arrows were laid away\nin the medicine-sack, there was in all the Indian country that night no\nhappier family than the three brothers, who ever after dwelt together in\nall kindness, as all good brothers should.\n\n[Illustration: 0091]\n\n\n\n\nIV. THE CELESTIAL SISTERS\n\n\n|WAUPEE, or the White Hawk, lived in a remote part of the forest, where\nanimals abounded. Every day he returned from the chase with a large\nspoil, for he was one of the most skilful and lucky hunters of his\ntribe. His form was like the cedar; the fire of youth beamed from his\neye; there was no forest too gloomy for him to penetrate, and no track\nmade by bird or beast of any kind which he could not readily follow.\n\nOne day he had gone beyond any point which he had ever before visited.\nHe traveled through an open wood, which enabled him to see a great\ndistance. At length he beheld a light breaking through the foliage of\nthe distant trees, which made him sure that he was on the borders of\na prairie. It was a wide plain, covered with long blue grass, and\nenamelled with flowers of a thousand lovely tints.\n\nAfter walking for some time without a path, musing upon the open country\nand enjoying the fragrant breeze, he suddenly came to a ring worn among\nthe grass and the flowers, as if it had been made by footsteps moving\nlightly round and round. But it was strange--so strange as to cause the\nWhite Hawk to pause and gaze long and fixedly upon the ground--there was\nno path which led to this flowery circle. There was not even a crushed\nleaf or a broken twig, nor did he find the least trace of a footstep,\napproaching or retiring. So wondering he thought he would hide himself\nand lie in wait to discover, if he could, what this strange circle\nmeant.\n\nPresently he heard faint sounds of music in the air. Looking up in the\ndirection they came from, he saw floating a small object, like a little\nsummer cloud that approaches down from above the earth. At first it was\nvery small, and seemed as if it could have been blown away by the first\nbreeze that came along; but it rapidly grew as he gazed upon it, and\nthe music every moment came clearer and more sweetly to his ear. As it\nneared the earth it appeared as a basket, and it was filled with twelve\nsisters, of the most lovely forms and enchanting beauty.\n\nAs soon as the basket touched the ground they leaped out, and began\nstraightway to dance around the magic ring, in the most joyous manner,\nstriking a shining ball, which uttered ravishing melodies, keeping time\nas they danced.\n\n[Illustration: 0095]\n\nThe White Hawk, from his concealment, gazed with delight upon their\ngraceful forms and movements. He admired them all, but he was most\npleased with the youngest. He longed to be at her side, to embrace her,\nto call her his own; and unable to remain longer a silent admirer, he\nrushed out and endeavored to seize this twelfth beauty who so enchanted\nhim. But the sisters, the moment they descried the form of a man, leaped\nback into the basket with the swiftness of birds, and were drawn up into\nthe sky.\n\nLamenting his ill-luck, Waupee gazed longingly upon the fairy basket as\nit ascended bearing the lovely sisters from his view.\n\n\"They are gone,\" he said, \"and I shall see them no more.\"\n\nHe returned to his solitary lodge, but found no relief to his mind.\nHe walked abroad, but to look at the sky, which had withdrawn from his\nsight the only being he had ever loved, was painful to him now.\n\nThe next day, selecting the same hour, the White Hawk went back to the\nprairie, and took his station near the ring. But in order to deceive the\nsisters, he assumed the form of an opossum, and sat among the grass as\nif he were there engaged in chewing the cud. He had not waited long when\nhe saw the cloudy basket descend, and heard the same sweet music falling\nas before. He crept slowly toward the ring; but the instant the sisters\ncaught sight of him they were startled, and sprang into their car. It\nrose a short distance when one of the elder sisters spoke:\n\n\"Perhaps,\" she said, \"it has come to show us how the game is played by\nmortals.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" the youngest replied; \"quick, let us ascend.\"\n\nAnd all joining in a chant, they rose out of sight.\n\nThen Waupee, casting off his disguise, walked sorrowfully back to his\nlodge--but ah, the night seemed very long to lonely White Hawk! His\nwhole soul was filled with the thought of the beautiful sister.\n\nBetimes, the next day, he returned to the haunted spot, hoping and\nfearing, and sighing as though his very soul would leave his body in its\nanguish. He reflected upon the plan he should follow to secure success.\nHe had already failed twice; to fail a third time would be fatal. By\nsearching he found nearby an old stump, much covered with moss, and just\nthen in use as the residence of a number of mice, who had stopped there\non a pilgrimage to some relatives on the other side of the prairie. The\nWhite Hawk was so pleased with their tidy little forms that he\nthought he, too, would be a mouse, especially as they were by no means\nformidable to look at, and would not be at all likely to create alarm.\n\nHe accordingly brought the stump and set it near the ring. Then, without\nfurther notice, he became a mouse, and peeped and sported, and kept his\nsharp little eyes busy with the others; only he did not forget to keep\none eye up toward the sky, and one ear wide open in the same direction.\n\nIt was not long before the sisters, at their customary hour, came down\nand resumed their sport.\n\n\"But see,\" cried the youngest sister, \"that stump was not there before.\"\n\nShe ran off, frightened, toward the basket. But her sisters only smiled,\nand gathering round the old tree-stump, struck it, in jest, when out ran\nthe mice, and among them Waupee. This was sport for the sisters and they\nchased and killed them all save one, which was pursued by the twelfth\nsister, who had decided after all to join in the game. As she raised a\nsilver stick which she held in her hand to put an end to that, too, the\nform of the White Hawk arose, and he clasped his prize in his arms. The\nother eleven sprang to their basket, and were drawn up to the skies.\n\nDelighted with his success, Waupee exerted all his skill to please\nhis bride and win her affections. He wiped the tears from her eyes; he\nrelated his adventures in the chase; he dwelt upon the charms of life\non the earth. He was constant in his attentions, keeping fondly by\nher side, and picking out the way for her to walk as he led her gently\ntoward his lodge. He felt his heart glow with joy as he entered it, and\nfrom that moment he was one of the happiest of men.\n\nWinter and summer passed rapidly away, and as spring drew near with its\nbalmy gales and its many-colored flowers, their happiness was increased\nby the presence of a beautiful boy in their lodge, a son with both his\nmother's beauty and his father's strength. What more of earthly blessing\nwas there for them to enjoy?\n\nWaupee's wife, however, was a daughter of one of the stars; and as the\nscenes of earth began to pall upon her sight, she sighed to revisit her\nfather. But she hid these feelings from her husband. She remembered the\ncharm that would carry her up, and while White Hawk was engaged in the\nchase, she took occasion to construct a wicker basket, which she kept\nconcealed. In the meantime, she collected such rarities from the earth\nas she thought would please her father, as well as the most dainty kinds\nof food.\n\nThen on a day when all was in readiness and Wau-pee absent, she went out\nto the charmed ring, taking with her her little son. As they entered the\ncar she commenced her magical song, and the basket rose. The song was\nsad, and of a lowly and mournful cadence, and as it was wafted far away\nby the wind, it caught her husband's ear. It was a voice which he well\nknew, and he instantly ran to the prairie. But though he made breathless\nspeed, he could not reach the ring before his wife and child had\nascended beyond his reach. He lifted up his voice in loud appeals, but\nthey were unavailing. The basket still went up. He watched it till it\nbecame a small speck, and finally it vanished in the sky. He then bent\nhis head down to the ground and was miserable.\n\nThrough a long winter and a long summer Waupee bewailed his loss, but he\nfound no relief. The beautiful spirit had come and gone, and he should\nsee it no more!\n\nIn the meantime his wife had reached her home in the stars, and in the\nblissful employments of her father's house she almost forgot that she\nhad left a husband upon the earth. But her son, as he grew up, resembled\nhis father more and more, and every day he was restless and anxious to\nrevisit the scene of his birth. His grandfather, perceiving this, said\nto his daughter:\n\n\"Go, my child, take your son down to his father, and ask him to come up\nand live with us. But tell him to bring along a specimen of each kind of\nbird and animal he kills in the chase.\"\n\nThe mother accordingly took the boy and descended. And the White Hawk,\nwho was ever near the enchanted spot, heard her voice as she came down\nthe sky. His heart beat with impatience as he saw her form and that of\nhis son, and they were soon clasped in his arms.\n\nHe heard the message of the Star, and he began to hunt with the greatest\nactivity, that he might collect the present with all despatch. He\nspent whole nights, as well as days, in searching for every curious and\nbeautiful animal and bird. But he only preserved a foot, a wing, or a\ntail of each.\n\nWhen all was ready, Waupee visited once more each favorite spot--the\nhill-top whence he had been used to see the rising sun; the stream where\nhe had sported as a boy; the old lodge, which he was to sit in no more;\nand last of all, he came to the magic circle, and gazed widely around\nhim with tearful eyes. Then taking his wife and child by the hand, he\nentered the car, and they were drawn up--into a country far beyond the\nflight of birds, or the power of mortal eye to pierce.\n\nGreat joy was manifested upon their arrival at the starry plains.\nThe Star Chief invited all his people to a feast; and when they had\nassembled, he proclaimed aloud that each one might continue as he was,\nan inhabitant of his own dominions, or select of the earthly gifts such\nas he liked best. A very strange confusion immediately arose; not one\nbut sprang forward. Some chose a foot, some a wing, some a tail, and\nsome a claw. Those who selected tails or claws were changed into animals\nand ran off; the others assumed the form of birds and flew away. Waupee\nchose a white hawk's feather. His wife and son followed his example, and\neach one became a white hawk. He spread his wings, and, followed by his\nwife and son, descended with the other birds to the earth, where they\nare still to be found, with the brightness of the starry plains in their\neyes and the freedom of the heavenly breezes in their wings.\n\n[Illustration: 0101]\n\n\n\n\nV. GRAY EAGLE AND HIS FIVE BROTHERS\n\n\n|THERE were six falcons living in a nest, five of whom were still too\nyoung to fly, when it so happened that both the parent birds were shot\nin one day. The young brood waited anxiously for their return; but night\ncame, and they were left without parents and without food.\n\nGray Eagle, the eldest, and the only one whose feathers had become stout\nenough to enable him to leave the nest, took his place at the head of\nthe family and assumed the duty of stifling his brothers' cries\nand providing the little household with food. In this he was very\nsuccessful. But one day, while out on a foraging excursion, he got one\nof his wings broken. This was more to be regretted as the season had\narrived when they were soon to go to a southern country to pass the\nwinter, and the children were only waiting to become a little stronger\nand more expert on the wing to set out on the journey.\n\nFinding that their elder brother did not return, they resolved to go in\nsearch of him. After beating up and down the country for the better part\nof a whole day, they last found him, sorely wounded and unable to fly,\nlodged in the upper branches of a sycamore tree.\n\n\"Brothers,\" said Gray Eagle, as they gathered around, questioning him\nabout his injuries, \"an accident has befallen me, but let not this\nprevent your going to a warmer climate. Winter is rapidly approaching,\nand you cannot remain here. It is better that I alone should die, than\nfor you all to suffer on my account.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" they replied, with one voice. \"We will not forsake you. We\nwill share your sufferings; we will abandon our journey and take care of\nyou as you did of us before we were able to take care of ourselves. If\nthe chill climate kills you, it shall kill us. Do you think we can so\nsoon forget your brotherly care, which has equalled a father's, and even\na mother's kindness? Whether you live or die, we will live or die with\nyou.\"\n\nThey sought out a hollow tree to winter in, and contrived to carry their\nwounded nest-mate thither; and before the rigor of the season had set\nin, they had, by diligence and economy, stored up food enough to carry\nthem through the winter months.\n\nTo make the provisions they had laid in last the better, it was agreed\namong them that two of their number should go south, leaving the other\nthree to watch over, feed, and protect their wounded brother. So the\ntravelers set forth, sorry to leave home, but resolved that the first\npromise of spring should bring them back again. And the three who\nremained, mounting to the very peak of the tree and bearing Gray Eagle\nin their arms, watched them, as they vanished away southward, till their\nforms blended with the air and were wholly lost to sight.\n\nThen Gray Eagle was propped up in a snug fork with cushions of dry\nmoss, and the household was set in order. The oldest of the five younger\nbrothers took upon himself the charge of nursing Gray Eagle, preparing\nhis food, bringing him water, and changing his pillows when he grew\ntired of one position. He also looked to it that the house itself was\nkept in a tidy condition, and that the pantry was supplied with food.\nTo the next brother was assigned the duty of physician, and he was to\nprescribe such herbs and other medicines as the health of Gray Eagle\nseemed to require. As the doctor brother had no other invalid on his\nvisiting-list, he devoted the time not given to the cure of his patient\nto the killing of game wherewith to stock the housekeeper's larder; so\nthat, whatever he did, he was always busy in the line of professional\nduty--killing or curing. On his hunting excursions Doctor Falcon carried\nwith him his youngest brother, who, being a foolish young fellow and\ninexperienced in the ways of the world, it was not thought safe to trust\nalone.\n\nIn due time, what with good nursing, good feeding, and good air, Gray\nEagle recovered from his wound; and he then repaid the kindness of\nhis brothers by giving them such advice and instruction in the art of\nhunting as his age and experience qualified him to impart. As spring\nadvanced they began to look about for the means of replenishing their\nstorehouse, whose supplies were running low; and they were all quite\nsuccessful in their quest except the youngest, whose name was Peepi, or\nthe Pigeon-Hawk. He had of late begun to set up for himself, but being\nsmall and foolish and feather-headed, flying hither and yonder without\nany set purpose, it so happened that Peepi always came home, so to\nphrase it, with an empty game-bag and his pinions terribly rumpled.\n\nAt last Gray Eagle spoke to him and demanded the cause of his ill-luck.\n\n\"It is not my smallness or weakness of body,\" Peepi answered, \"that\nprevents my bringing home provender as well as my brothers. I am all the\ntime on the wing, hither and thither. I kill ducks and other birds every\ntime I go out; but just as I get to the woods, on my way home, I am met\nby a large ko-ko-ho, who robs me of my prey; and,\" added Peepi, with\ngreat energy, \"it's my settled opinion that the villain lies in wait for\nthe very purpose of doing so.\"\n\n\"I have no doubt you are right, Brother Peepi,\" rejoined Gray Eagle. \"I\nknow this pirate--his name is White Owl; and now that I feel my strength\nfully recovered, I will go out with you to-morrow and help you look\nafter this greedy bush-ranger.\"\n\nThe next day they went forth in company and arrived at a fine\nfresh-water lake. Gray Eagle seated himself hard by, while Peepi started\nout. The latter soon pounced upon a duck.\n\n\"Well done!\" thought his brother, who saw his success; but just as\nlittle Peepi was getting to land with his prize, up sailed a large white\nowl from a tree where he, too, had been watching, and laid claim to it.\nHe was on the point of wresting it from Peepi, when Gray Eagle, calling\nout to the intruder to stop, rushed up, fixed his talons in both sides\nof the owl, and without further introduction or ceremony flew away with\nhim.\n\nThe little Pigeon-Hawk followed closely, with the duck under his wing,\nrejoiced and happy to think that he had something to carry home at last.\nHe was naturally much vexed with the owl, and had no sooner delivered\nover the duck to the housekeeper, than he flew in the owl's face and,\nventing an abundance of reproaches, would have torn the very eyes out of\nthe White Owl's head in his passion.\n\n\"Softly, Peepi,\" said the Gray Eagle, stepping in between them. \"Don't\nbe in such a huff, my little brother, or show so revengeful a temper. Do\nyou not know that we are to forgive our enemies? White Owl, you may go;\nbut let this be a lesson to you, not to play the tyrant over those who\nmay chance to be weaker than yourself.\"\n\nSo, after adding to this much more good advice and telling him what kind\nof herbs would cure his wounds.\n\nGray Eagle dismissed White Owl, and the brothers sat down to supper.\n\nThe next day, betimes, before the household had fairly rubbed the\ncobwebs out of the corners of their eyes, there came a knock at the\nfront door--which was a dry branch that lay down before the hollow of\nthe tree in which they lodged--and being called to come in, who should\nmake their appearance but the two nest-mates, who had just returned from\nthe South where they had been wintering. There was great rejoicing over\ntheir return, and now that they were all happily reunited, each one soon\nchose a mate and began to keep house in the woods for himself.\n\nSpring had now revisited the North. The cold winds had all blown\nthemselves away, the ice had melted, the streams were open and smiled as\nthey looked at the blue sky once more; and the forests, far and wide, in\ntheir green mantle, echoed every cheerful sound.\n\nBut it is in vain that spring returns, and that the heart of Nature is\nopened in bounty, if we are not thankful to the Master of Life, who has\npreserved us through the winter. Nor does that man answer the end for\nwhich he was made who does not show a kind and charitable feeling to all\nwho are in want or sickness.\n\nThe love and harmony of Gray Eagle and his brothers continued. They\nnever forgot each other. Every week, on the fourth afternoon of the week\n(for that was the time when they had found their wounded elder brother),\nthey had a meeting in the hollow of the old sycamore tree, when they\ntalked over family matters and advised with each other about their\naffairs, as brothers should.\n\n[Illustration: 0108]\n\n\n\n\nVI. HE OF THE LITTLE SHELL\n\n\n|ONCE upon a time, all the people of a certain country had died,\nexcepting two helpless children, a baby boy and a little girl.\n\nWhen their parents died, these children were asleep. The little girl,\nwho was the elder, was the first to awake. She looked around her, but\nseeing nobody but her little brother, who lay smiling in his dreams, she\nquietly resumed her bed.\n\nAt the end of ten days her brother moved, without opening his eyes.\n\nAt the end of ten days more he changed his position, lying on the other\nside, and in this way he kept on sleeping for a long time; and pleasant,\ntoo, must have been his dreams, for his little sister never looked at\nhim that he was not quite a little heaven of smiles and flashing\nlights, which beamed about his head and filled the lodge with a strange\nsplendor.\n\nThe girl soon grew to be a woman, but the boy increased in stature very\nslowly. It was a long time before he could even creep, and he was well\nadvanced in years before he could stand alone. When he was able to walk,\nhis sister made him a little bow and arrows, and hung around his neck a\nsmall shell, saying:\n\n\"You shall be called Dais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell.\"\n\nEvery day he would go out with his bow, shooting at the small birds. The\nfirst bird he killed was a tom-tit. His sister was highly pleased when\nhe took it to her. She carefully prepared and stuffed it, and put it\naway for him.\n\nThe next day he killed a red squirrel. His sister preserved this, too.\nThe third day he killed a partridge, and this they had for their evening\nmeal.\n\nAfter this he acquired more courage and would venture some distance from\nhome. His skill and success daily increased, and he killed the deer,\nbear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the forest.\n\nAt last, although so very small of stature, he became a great hunter,\nand all that he shot he brought home and shared with his sister; and\nwhenever he entered the lodge, a light beamed about his head and filled\nthe place with a strange splendor.\n\nHe had now arrived at the years of manhood, but he still remained a\nperfect infant in size.\n\nOne day, walking about in quest of game, he came to a small lake.\n\nIt was in the winter season; and upon the ice of the lake he saw a man\nof giant height, employed in killing beavers.\n\nComparing himself with this great man, he felt that he was no bigger\nthan an insect. He seated himself on the shore and watched his\nmovements.\n\nWhen the large man had killed many beavers, he put them on a hand-sled\nwhich he had, and pursued his way home. When he saw him retire, the\ndwarf hunter followed, and, wielding his magic shell, he cut off the\ntail of one of the heavers and ran home with the prize.\n\nThe giant, on reaching his lodge with his sled-load of heavers, was\nsurprised to find one of them shorn of its tail.\n\nThe next day the little hero of the shell went to the same lake. The\ngiant, who had been busy there for some time, had already loaded his\nsled and commenced his return; but running nimbly forward and overtaking\nhim, Dais-Imid succeeded in securing another of the heaver-tails.\n\n\"I wonder,\" said the giant, on reaching his lodge and overlooking his\nheavers, \"what dog it is that has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I\nwould make his flesh quiver at the point of my javelin.\"\n\nThe giant forgot that he had taken without permission these very heavers\nout of a beaver-dam which belonged to the little shell-man and his\nsister.\n\nThe next day he pursued his hunting at the beaver-dam near the lake, and\nhe was again followed by the little man with the shell.\n\nThis time the giant was so nimble in his movements that he had nearly\nreached home before Little Shell could overtake him; but making his best\nspeed, he was just in time to clip another beaver's tail before the sled\nslipped into the lodge.\n\nThe giant would have been a patient giant, indeed, if his anger had not\nbeen violent at these constant tricks played upon him. What vexed him\nmost, was, that he could not get sight of his enemy. Sharp eyes he would\nhave needed to do so, inasmuch as He of the Little Shell had the gift of\nmaking himself invisible whenever he chose.\n\nThe giant, giving vent to his feelings with many loud rumbling words,\nlooked sharply around to see whether he could discover any tracks.\nHe could find none. The unknown had stepped too lightly to leave the\nslightest mark behind.\n\nThe next day the giant resolved to disappoint his mysterious follower by\ngoing to the beaver-dam very early; and accordingly, when Dais-Imid came\nto the place, he found the fresh traces of his work, but the giant\nhad already gone away. He followed hard upon his tracks but failed to\novertake him. When He of the Little Shell came in sight of the lodge,\nthe stranger was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers.\n\nAs Dais-Imid stood looking at him--he had been all this time\ninvisible--he thought:\n\n\"I will let him have a view of me.\"\n\nPresently the man, who proved to be no less a personage than the\ncelebrated giant, Manabozho, looked up and saw him. After regarding him\nwith attention, he said:\n\n\"Who are you, little man? I have a mind to kill you.\"\n\nThe little hero of the shell replied:\n\n\"If you were to try to kill me you could not do it.\"\n\nWith this speech of the little man, Manabozho grabbed at him; but when\nhe thought to have had him in his hand, Little Shell was gone.\n\n\"Where are you now, little man?\" cried Manabozho.\n\n\"Here, under your girdle,\" answered the shell-dwarf. At which giant\nManabozho, thinking to crush him, slapped down his great hand with all\nhis might; but on unloosing his girdle he was disappointed at finding no\ndwarf there.\n\n\"Where are you now, little man?\" he cried again, in a greater rage than\never.\n\n\"In your right nostril!\" the dwarf replied. Whereupon the giant\nManabozho seized himself by the finger and thumb at the place, and gave\nit a violent tweak; but as he immediately heard the voice of the dwarf\nat a distance upon the ground, he was satisfied that he had only pulled\nhis own nose to no purpose.\n\n\"Good-bye, Manabozho,\" said the voice of the invisible dwarf. \"Count\nyour beaver-tails, and you will find that I have taken another for\nmy sister\"; for He of the Little Shell never, in his wanderings or\npastimes, forgot his sister and her wishes. \"Good-bye, beaver-man!\"\n\nAnd as he went away he made himself visible once more, and a light\nbeamed about his head and lit the air around him with a strange\nsplendor; a circumstance which Manabozho, who was at times quite\nthick-headed and dull of apprehension, could in no way understand.\n\nWhen Dais-Imid returned home, he told his sister that the time drew nigh\nwhen they must separate.\n\n\"I must go away,\" said Dais-Imid, \"it is my fate. You, too,\" he added,\n\"must go away soon. Tell me where you would wish to dwell.\"\n\nShe said, \"I would like to go to the place of the breaking of daylight.\nI have always loved the East. The earliest glimpses of light are from\nthat quarter, and it is to my mind the most beautiful part of the\nheavens. After I get there, my brother, whenever you see the clouds,\nin that direction, of various colors, you may think that your sister is\npainting her face.\"\n\n\"And I,\" said he, \"I, my sister, shall live on the mountains and rocks.\nThere I can see you at the earliest hour; there the streams of water run\nclear; the air is pure; and the golden lights will shine ever around my\nhead. I shall ever be called 'Puck-Ininee, or the Little Wild Man of the\nMountains.' But,\" he resumed, \"before we part forever, I must go and\ntry to find what manitoes rule the earth, and see which of them will be\nfriendly to us.\"\n\nHe left his sister and traveled over the surface of the globe, and then\nwent far down into the earth.\n\nHe had been treated well wherever he went. But at last he came to a\ngiant manito, who had a large kettle which was forever boiling. The\ngiant, who was a first cousin to Manabozho, and had already heard of the\ntricks which Dais-Imid had played upon his kinsman, regarded him with a\nstern look, and, catching him up in his hand, threw him unceremoniously\ninto the kettle.\n\nIt was evidently the giant's intention to drown Dais-Imid. In this he\nwas unsuccessful, for by means of his magic shell, little Dais, in less\nthan a second's time, hailed the water to the bottom, leaped from the\nkettle, and ran away unharmed.\n\nHe returned to his sister and related his rovings and adventures. He\nfinished his story by addressing her thus:\n\n\"My sister, there is a manito at each of the four corners of the earth.\nThere is also one above them, far in the sky, a Great Being who assigns\nto you and to me and to all of us, where we must go. And last,\" he\ncontinued, \"there is another and wicked one who lives deep down in\nthe earth. It will be our lot to escape out of his reach. We must now\nseparate. When the winds blow from the four corners of the earth, you\nmust then go. They will carry you to the place you wish. I go to the\nrocks and mountains, where my kindred will ever delight to dwell.\"\n\nDais-Imid then took his hall-stick and commenced running up a high\nmountain; a bright light shone about his head all the way, and he kept\nsinging as he went:=\n\n```Blow, winds, blow! my sister lingers\n\n````For her dwelling in the sky,\n\n```Where the mom, with rosy fingers,\n\n````Shall her cheeks with vermil dye.\n\n```There my earliest views directed,\n\n````Shall from her their color take,\n\n```And her smiles, through clouds reflected,\n\n````Guide me on by wood or lake.\n\n```While I range the highest mountains,\n\n````Sport in valleys green and low,\n\n```Or, beside our Indian fountains,\n\n````Raise my tiny hip-hallo.=\n\nHis voice rose faintly and more faint, and at last the maiden was alone.\n\nBut presently the winds blew, and, as Dais-Imid had predicted, his\nsister was borne by them to the eastern sky, where she has ever since\nlived, and her name is now the Morning Star.\n\n[Illustration: 0116]\n\n\n\n\nVII. OSSEOJ THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR\n\n\n|THERE once lived an Indian in the north who had ten daughters, all of\nwhom grew up to womanhood. They were noted for their beauty, especially\nOweenee, the youngest, who was very independent in her way of thinking.\nShe was a great admirer of romantic places and spent much of her time\nwith the flowers and winds and clouds in the open air. It mattered not\nto her that the flower was homely, if it was fragrant--that the winds\nwere rough, if they were healthful--and that the clouds were dark, if\nthey embosomed the fruitful rain; she knew how, in spite of appearances,\nto acknowledge the good qualities concealed from the eye.\n\nHer elder sisters were all sought in marriage, and one after another\nwent off to dwell in the lodges of their husbands. But Oweenee paid very\nlittle attention to the many handsome young men who came to her father's\nlodge for the purpose of seeing her. She was deaf to all proposals, till\nat last to the great surprise of her kinsfolk she married an old man\ncalled Osseo, who was scarcely able to walk, and who was too poor to\nhave things like other people. The only property he owned in the world\nwas the walking-staff which he carried in his hand. But though thus poor\nand homely, Osseo was a devout and good man, faithful in all his duties,\nand obedient in all things to the Good Spirit. Of course they jeered and\nlaughed at Oweenee on all sides, but she seemed to be quite happy, and\nsaid to them:\n\n\"It is my choice and you will see in the end who has acted the wisest.\"\n\nThey made a special mock of the walking-staff, and scarcely an hour in\nthe day passed that they had not some disparaging reference to make\nto it. Among themselves they spoke of \"Osseo of the walking-staff,\" in\nderision, as one might speak of \"the owner of the big woods,\" or \"the\ngreat timberman.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Oweenee, \"it is but a simple stick; but as it supports the\nsteps of my husband, it is more precious to me than all the forests of\nthe north.\"\n\nA time came when the sisters and their husbands and their parents were\nall invited to a feast. As the distance was considerable, they doubted\nwhether Osseo, so aged and feeble, would be able to undertake the\njourney; but in spite of their friendly doubts, he joined them and set\nout with a good heart.\n\nAs they walked along the path they could not help pitying their young\nand handsome sister who had such an unsuitable mate. She, however,\nsmiled upon Osseo, and kept with him on the way the same as if he had\nbeen the comeliest bridegroom in all the company. Osseo often stopped\nand gazed upward; but the others could perceive nothing in the direction\nin which he looked, unless it was the faint glimmering of the evening\nstar. They heard him muttering to himself as they went along, and one of\nthe elder sisters caught the words:\n\n\"Pity me, my father!\"\n\n\"Poor old man,\" said she, \"he is talking to his father. What a pity it\nis that he would not fall and break his neck, that our sister might have\na young husband.\"\n\nPresently as they came to a great rock where Osseo had been used to\nbreathe his morning and his evening prayer, the star emitted a brighter\nray, which shone directly in his face. Osseo, with a sharp cry, fell\ntrembling to the earth, where the others would have left him. But his\ngood wife raised him up, whereupon he sprang forward on the path, and\nwith steps light as the reindeer's he led the party, no longer decrepit\nand infirm, but a beautiful young man. All were delighted, but when they\nturned around to look for his wife, behold! she had become changed at\nthe same moment into an aged and feeble woman, bent almost double, and\nwalking with the staff which he had cast aside.\n\nOsseo immediately joined her, and with looks of fondness and the\ntenderest regard bestowed on her every endearing attention, and\nconstantly addressed her by the term of \"De-ne-moosh-a,\" or \"my\nsweetheart.\"\n\nAs they walked along, whenever they were not gazing fondly in each\nother's faces they bent their looks on heaven, and a light, as if of\nfar-off stars, was in their eyes.\n\nOn arriving at the lodge of the hunter with whom they were to feast,\nthey found the banquet ready, and as soon as their entertainer had\nfinished his harangue--in which he told them his feasting was in honor\nof the Evening or Woman's Star--they began to partake of the portion\ndealt out to each one of the guests, according to age and character. The\nfood was very delicious, and they were all happy but Osseo, who looked\nat his wife and then gazed upward, as if he were still looking into the\nsubstance of the sky. Then sounds were heard, as if from far-off voices\nin the air, and they became plainer and plainer, till he could clearly\ndistinguish some of the words.\n\n\"My son, my son,\" said the voice, \"I have seen your afflictions, and\npity your wants. I come to call you away from a scene that is stained\nwith blood and tears. The earth is full of sorrows. Wicked spirits, the\nenemies of mankind, walk abroad and lie in wait to ensnare the children\nof the sky. Every night they are lifting their voices to the Power of\nEvil, and every day they make themselves busy in casting mischief in the\nhunter's path. You have long been their victim, but you shall be their\nvictim no more. The spell you were under is broken. Your evil genius is\novercome. I have cast him down by my superior strength, and it is this\nstrength I now exert for your happiness. Ascend, my son; ascend into the\nskies, and partake of the feast I have prepared for you in the stars,\nand bring with you those you love.\n\n\"The food set before you is enchanted and blessed. Fear not to partake\nof it. It is endowed with magic power to give immortality to mortals and\nto change men to spirits. Your bowls and kettles shall no longer be wood\nand earth. The one shall become silver, and the other pure gold. They\nshall shine like fire, and glisten like the most beautiful scarlet.\nEvery maiden shall also change her state and looks, and no longer be\ndoomed to laborious tasks. She shall put on the beauty of the star-light\nand become a shining bird of the air. She shall dance and not work. She\nshall sing, and not cry.\n\n\"My beams,\" continued the voice, \"shine faintly on your lodge, but they\nhave power to transform it into the lightness of the skies and decorate\nit with the colors of the clouds. Come, Osseo, my son, and dwell no\nlonger on earth. Think strongly on my words and look steadfastly at my\nbeams. My power is now at its height. Doubt not, delay not. It is the\nvoice of the Spirit of the Evening Star that calls you away to happiness\nand celestial rest.\"\n\nThe words were clear to Osseo, but his companions thought them some\nfar-off sounds of music, or birds singing in the woods. Very soon the\nlodge began to shake and tremble, and they felt it rising into the air.\nIt was too late to run out, for they were already as high as the tops\nof the trees. Osseo looked around him as the lodge passed through the\ntopmost boughs, and behold, their wooden dishes were changed into shells\nof a scarlet color, the poles of the lodge to glittering rods of silver,\nand the bark that covered them into the gorgeous wings of insects.\n\nA moment more and his brothers and sisters, and their parents and\nfriends, were transformed into birds of various plumage. Some were jays,\nsome partridges and pigeons, and others gay singing birds, who hopped\nabout displaying their many-colored feathers and singing songs of\ncheerful note.\n\nBut his wife, Oweenee, still kept her earthly garb and showed all the\nsigns of extreme old age. He again cast his eyes in the direction of the\nclouds and uttered the peculiar cry which had given him the victory at\nthe rock. In a moment the youth and beauty of his wife returned; her\ndingy garments assumed the shining appearance of green silk, and her\nstaff was changed into a silver feather.\n\nThe lodge again shook and trembled, for they were now passing through\nthe uppermost clouds, and they immediately afterward found themselves in\nthe Evening Star, the residence of Osseo's father.\n\n\"My son,\" said the old man, \"leave the cage of birds at the door of the\nlodge. Then enter, and I will inform you why you and your wife have been\nsent for.\"\n\nOsseo obeyed, and then took his seat in the lodge.\n\n\"Pity was shown to you,\" resumed the King of the Star, \"on account of\nthe contempt of your wife's sisters, who laughed at her ill fortune and\nridiculed you while you were under the power of that wicked spirit whom\nyou overcame at the rock. That spirit lives in the next lodge, the\nsmall star you see on the left of mine. He has always felt envious of\nmy family because we had greater power, and especially that we had\ncommitted to us the care of the female world. He failed in many attempts\nto destroy your brothers and sisters-in-law, but succeeded at last in\ntransforming yourself and your wife into decrepit old persons. You must\nbe careful and not let the light of his beams fall on you, while you are\nhere, for therein lies the power of his enchantment. A ray of light is\nthe bow and arrow he uses.\"\n\nOsseo and Oweenee lived happy and contented in the parental lodge, and\nin the course of time had a son, who grew up rapidly and in the very\nlikeness of Osseo himself. He was very quick and ready in learning\neverything that was done in his grandfather's dominions, but he wished\nalso to learn the art of hunting, for he had heard that this was a\nfavorite pursuit below. To gratify him, his father made him a bow and\narrows and then let the birds out of the cage that he might practise\nshooting. In this pastime he soon became expert, and the very first day\nhe brought down a bird; but when he went to pick it up, to his amazement\nit was a beautiful young woman, with the arrow sticking in her breast.\nIt was one of his younger aunts.\n\nThe moment her blood fell upon the surface of that pure and spotless\nplanet, the charm was dissolved. The boy immediately found himself\nsinking, although he was partly upheld by something like wings until\nhe had passed through the lower clouds. He then suddenly dropped upon a\nhigh, breezy island in a large lake. He was pleased, on looking up, to\nsee all his aunts and uncles following him in the form of birds, and he\nsoon discovered the silver lodge descending with his father and mother,\nits waving tassels fluttering like so many insects' gilded wings. It\nrested on the loftiest cliffs of the island, and there they fixed\ntheir residence. They all resumed their natural shapes, but they were\ndiminished to the size of fairies; and as a mark of homage to the King\nof the Evening Star, they never failed on every pleasant evening during\nthe summer season to join hands and dance upon the top of the rocks.\nThese rocks were quickly observed by the Indians to be covered, on\nmoonlight evenings, with a larger sort of Ininees, or little men. They\ncalled them Mish-in-e-mok-in-ok-ong, or Little Spirits, and the island\nis named from them to this day.\n\nTheir shining lodge can be seen in the summer evenings, when the moon\nbeams strongly on the pinnacles of the rocks; and the fishermen who go\nnear those high cliffs at night have even heard the voices of the happy\nlittle dancers. And Osseo and his wife, as fondly attached to each other\nas ever, always lead the dance.\n\n[Illustration: 0125]\n\n\n\n\nVIII. THE WONDERFUL EXPLOITS OF GRASSHOPPER\n\n\n|A MAN of small stature found himself standing alone on a prairie. He\nthought to himself: \"How came I here? Are there no beings on this earth\nbut myself? I must travel and see. I must walk till I find the abodes of\nmen.\"\n\nSo soon as his mind was made up, he set out, he knew not whither,\nin search of habitations. He was a resolute little fellow, and no\ndifficulties could turn him from his purpose; neither prairies, rivers,\nwoods nor storms had the effect to daunt his courage or turn him back.\nAfter traveling a long time he came to a wood, in which he saw decayed\nstumps of trees looking as if they had been cut in ancient times, but\naside from that no other trace of men. Pursuing his journey, he found\nmore recent marks of the same kind; after this he came upon fresh traces\nof human beings; first their footsteps, and then the wood they had\nfelled, lying in heaps. Pushing on, he emerged toward dusk from the\nforest and beheld at a distance a large village of high lodges standing\non rising ground.\n\n\"I am tired of this dog-trot,\" he said to himself. \"I will arrive there\non a run.\"\n\nHe started off with all his speed. On coming to the first lodge he\njumped over it, without any special exertion, and found himself standing\nby the door on the other side. Those within saw something pass over the\nopening in the roof; they thought from the shadow it cast that it must\nhave been some huge bird--and then they heard a thump upon the ground.\n\n\"What is that?\" they all said and several ran out to see.\n\nThey invited him in, and he found himself in company with an old chief\nand several men who were seated in the lodge. Meat was set before him;\nafter which the old chief asked him whither he was going and what was\nhis name. He answered that he was in search of adventures and that his\nname was \"Grasshopper.\"\n\nThey all opened their eyes upon the stranger with a broad stare.\n\n\"Grasshopper!\" whispered one to another; and a general titter went\nround.\n\nThey invited him to stay with them, which he was inclined to do; for\nit was a pleasant village, but so small as constantly to embarrass\nGrasshopper. He was in perpetual trouble; whenever he shook hands with a\nstranger, to whom he might be introduced, such was the abundance of his\nstrength that, without meaning it he wrung his arm off at the shoulder.\nOnce or twice, in mere sport, he cuffed the boys by the side of the\nhead, and they flew out of sight as though they had been shot from a\nbow; nor could they ever be found again, though they were searched\nfor in all the country round, far and wide. If Grasshopper proposed to\nhimself a short stroll in the morning, he was at once miles out of town.\nWhen he entered a lodge, if he happened for a moment to forget himself,\nhe walked straight through the leathern, or wooden, or earthen walls, as\nif he had been merely passing through a bush. At his meals he broke\nin pieces all the dishes, set them down as lightly as he would; and\nstretching a bit when he rose, it was a common thing for him to push off\nthe top of the lodge.\n\nHe wanted more elbow-room; and after a short stay, in which by\naccidentally letting go of his strength he had nearly laid waste the\nwhole place, filling it with demolished lodges and broken pottery and\none-armed men, he made up his mind to go farther, taking with him a\nyoung man who had formed a strong attachment for him, and who might\nserve him as his pipe-bearer. For Grasshopper was a huge smoker, and\nvast clouds followed him wherever he went; so that people could say,\n\"Grasshopper is coming!\" by the mighty smoke he raised.\n\nThey set out together, and when his companion was fatigued with walking,\nGrasshopper would put him forward on his journey a mile or two by giving\nhim a cast in the air and lighting him in a soft place among the trees,\nor in a cool spot in a water-pond, among the sedges and water-lilies. At\nother times he would lighten the way by showing off a few tricks, such\nas leaping over trees, or turning round on one leg till he made the\ndust fly; at which the pipe-bearer was mightily pleased, although it\nsometimes happened that the character of these gambols frightened him.\nFor Grasshopper would, without the least hint of such an intention, jump\ninto the air far ahead, and it would cost the little pipe-bearer half\na day's hard travel to come up with him. And then, too, the dust\nGrasshopper raised was often so thick and heavy as completely to bury\nthe poor little pipe-bearer, and compel Grasshopper to dig diligently\nand with might and main to get him out alive.\n\nOne day they came to a very large village, where they were well\nreceived. After staying in it some time (in the course of which\nGrasshopper, in a fit of abstraction, walked straight through the\nsides of three lodges without stopping to look for the door), they\nwere informed of a number of wicked manitoes or spirits who lived at\na distance, and who made it a practise to kill all who came to their\nlodge. Attempts had been made to destroy them, but they had always\nproved more than a match for such as had come out against them.\n\nGrasshopper determined to pay them a visit, although he was strongly\nadvised not to do so. The chief of the village warned him of the great\ndanger he would incur, but finding Grasshopper resolved, he said:\n\n\"Well, if you will go, being my guest, I will send twenty warriors to\nserve you.\"\n\nGrasshopper thanked him for the offer, although he suggested that he\nthought he could get along without them; at which the little pipe-bearer\ngrinned, for his master had never shown in that village what he could\ndo, and the chief thought that Grasshopper, being little himself, would\nbe likely to need twenty warriors, at the least, to encounter the wicked\nspirits with any chance of success. So twenty young men made their\nappearance. They set forward, and after about a day's journey they\ndescried the lodge of the Manitoes.\n\nGrasshopper placed the warriors and his friend, the pipe-bearer, near\nenough to see all that passed, while he went alone to the lodge.\n\nAs he entered, Grasshopper saw five horrid-looking Manitoes in the act\nof eating. It was the father and his four sons. They were really hideous\nto look upon. Their eyes were swimming low in their heads, and they\nglared about as if they were half starved. They offered Grasshopper\nsomething to eat, which he politely refused, for he had a strong\nsuspicion that it was the thigh-bone of a man.\n\n\"What have you come for?\" said the old one.\n\n\"Nothing,\" answered Grasshopper. \"Where is your uncle?\"\n\nThey all stared at him and answered:\n\n\"We ate him, yesterday. What do you want?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" said Grasshopper. \"Where is your grandfather?\"\n\nThey all answered, with another broad stare:\n\n\"We ate him a week ago. Do you not wish to wrestle?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Grasshopper, \"I don't mind if I do take a turn; but you\nmust be easy with me, for you see I am very little.\"\n\nPipe-bearer, who stood near enough to overhear the conversation, grinned\nfrom ear to ear when he caught this remark. The Manitoes answered:\n\n\"Oh, yes, we will be easy with you.\"\n\nAnd as they said this they looked at one another, and rolled their eyes\nabout in a dreadful manner. A hideous smile came over their faces as\nthey whispered among themselves:\n\n\"It's a pity he's so thin.\" Then, \"You go,\" they said to the eldest\nbrother.\n\nThe two got ready--the Manito and Grasshopper--and they were soon\nclinched in each other's arms for a deadly throw. Grasshopper knew their\nobject--his death; they wanted a taste of his delicate little body, and\nhe was determined they should have it, but perhaps in a different sense\nfrom what they intended.\n\n\"Haw! haw!\" they cried, and soon the dust and dry leaves flew about\nas if driven by a strong wind. The Manito was strong, but Grasshopper\nthought he could master him; and all at once giving him a sly trip, just\nas the wicked spirit was trying to finish his breakfast with a piece out\nof his shoulder, he sent the Manito head-foremost against a stone; and\ncalling aloud to the three others, he bade them come and take the body\naway.\n\nThe brothers now stepped forth in quick succession, but Grasshopper,\nhaving got his blood up and limbered himself by exercise, soon\ndispatched the three--sending one this way, another that, and the third\nstraight up into the air, so high that he never came down again.\n\nIt was time for the old Manito to be frightened, and dreadfully\nfrightened he got, and ran for his life, which was the very worst thing\nhe could have done; for Grasshopper, of all his gifts of strength, was\nmost noted for his speed of foot. The old Manito set off, and for mere\nsport's sake, Grasshopper pursued him. Sometimes he was before the\nwicked old spirit, sometimes he was flying over his head, and then he\nwould keep along at a steady trot just at his heels, till he had blown\nall the breath out of the old knave's body.\n\nMeantime his friend, the pipe-bearer, and the twenty young warriors\ncried out:\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha! ha, ha, ha! Grasshopper is driving the Manito before him.\"\n\nThe Manito only turned his head now and then to look back. At length\nwhen he was tired of the sport, Grasshopper, to be rid of him, with a\ngentle application of his foot sent the wicked old Manito whirling\naway through the air, where he made a great number of the most curious\nturn-overs in the world till he came to alight. It so happened, then,\nthat he fell astride of an old bull-buffalo grazing in a distant\npasture, who straightway set off with him at a long gallop; and the old\nManito has not been heard of to this day.\n\nThen the warriors and the pipe-bearer and Grasshopper set to work and\nburned down the lodge of the wicked spirits, and when they came to look\nabout, they saw that the ground was strewn on all sides with human bones\nbleaching in the sun; these were the unhappy victims of the Manitoes.\nGrasshopper then took three arrows from his girdle, and after having\nperformed a ceremony to the Great Spirit, he shot one into the air,\ncrying:\n\n\"You are lying down; rise up, or you will be hit!\"\n\nThe bones all moved to one place. He shot the second arrow, repeating\nthe same words, and each bone drew toward its fellow-bone. The third\narrow brought forth to life the whole multitude of people who had been\nkilled by the Manitoes. Grasshopper conducted the crowd to his friend,\nthe chief of the village, and gave them into his hands, telling who they\nwere and the manner in which they had come to life again. Meanwhile the\ntwenty warriors, pipe-bearer, and all the people cried together:\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Grasshopper has killed the wicked Manito.\"\n\nThe chief was there with his counsellors, to whom he spoke apart.\n\n\"Who is more worthy to rule than you?\" said the chief to Grasshopper.\n\"_You_ alone can defend us all.\"\n\nGrasshopper thanked him and told him that he was in search of more\nadventures.\n\n\"I have done some things,\" said little Grasshopper, rather boastfully,\n\"and I think I can do some more.\"\n\nThe chief still urged him, but he was eager to go, and naming\nPipe-bearer to tarry and take his place, Grasshopper set out again on\nhis travels, promising that he would some time or other come back and\nsee them.\n\n\"Ho! ho! ho!\" they all cried. \"Come back again and see us!\" He renewed\nhis promise that he would; and then set out alone.\n\nAfter traveling some time he came to a great lake, and on looking about\nhe discovered a very large otter on an island. He thought to himself,\n\"His skin will make me a fine pouch.\" And he immediately drew up at long\nshot and drove an arrow into the otter's side. Then he waded into\nthe lake, and with some difficulty dragged him ashore and up a hill\noverlooking the lake.\n\nAs soon as Grasshopper got the otter into the warm sunshine, he skinned\nhim and threw the carcass some distance off, thinking the war-eagle\nwould come, and that he would have a chance to secure his feathers\nas ornaments for the head; for Grasshopper began to be proud, and was\ndisposed to display himself.\n\nHe soon heard a rushing noise as of a loud wind, but could see nothing.\nPresently a large eagle dropped, as if from the air, upon the otter's\ncarcass. Grasshopper drew his bow, and the arrow passed through under\nboth of his wings. The bird made a convulsive flight upward, with such\nforce that the cumbrous body was borne up several feet from the ground;\nbut the heavy otter, in which the bird's claws were deeply fixed,\nbrought the eagle back to the earth. Grasshopper possessed himself of a\nhandful of the prime feathers, crowned his head with the trophy, and set\noff in high spirits on the look-out for something new.\n\nAfter walking a while, he came to a body of water which flooded the\ntrees on its hanks--it was a lake made by beavers. Taking his station on\nthe raised dam where the stream escaped, he watched to see whether any\nof the beavers would show themselves. A head presently peeped out of the\nwater to see who it was that disturbed them.\n\n\"My friend,\" said Grasshopper in his most persuasive manner, \"could you\nnot oblige me by turning me into a beaver like yourself? Nothing would\nplease me so much as to make your acquaintance, I can assure you.\" For\nGrasshopper was curious to know how these watery creatures lived, and\nwhat kind of notions they had.\n\n\"I do not know,\" replied the heaver, who was rather short-nosed and\nsurly. \"I will go and ask the others. Meanwhile stay where you are, if\nyou please.\"\n\n\"To be sure,\" answered Grasshopper, stealing down the bank several paces\nas soon as the beaver's back was turned.\n\nPresently there was a great splashing of the water, and all the heavers\nshowed their heads, and looked warily to where he stood, to see if he\nwas armed. But he had knowingly left his bow and arrows in a hollow tree\nat a short distance.\n\nAfter a long conversation, which they conducted in a whisper so that\nGrasshopper could not catch a word, strain his ears as he would,\nthey all advanced in a body toward the spot where he stood; the chief\napproaching the nearest and lifting his head highest out of the water.\n\n\"Can you not,\" said Grasshopper, noticing that they waited for him to\nspeak first, \"turn me into a beaver? I wish to live among you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" answered their chief. \"Lie down.\" And Grasshopper in a moment\nfound himself a beaver, and was gliding into the water, when a thought\nseemed to strike him, and he paused at the edge of the lake.\n\n\"I am very small,\" he said to the beaver in a sorrowful tone. \"You must\nmake me large.\" For Grasshopper was terribly ambitious and wanted always\nto be the first person in every company. \"Larger than any of you; in my\npresent size it's hardly worth my while to go into the water.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" said they. \"By and by, when we get into the lodge it shall\nbe done.\"\n\nThey all dived into the lake, and when in passing great heaps of limbs\nand logs at the bottom, Grasshopper asked their use, they answered, \"For\nour winter's provision.\"\n\nWhen they all got into the lodge the number was about one hundred. The\nlodge was large and warm.\n\n\"Now we will make you large,\" said they. Then, \"Will _that_ do?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he answered; for he found that he was ten times the size of the\nlargest.\n\n\"You need not go out,\" said the others. \"We will bring you food into the\nlodge, and you will be our chief.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" Grasshopper answered. He thought, \"I will stay here and\ngrow fat at their expense.\"\n\nBut, soon after, one of them ran into the lodge out of breath, crying\nout:\n\n\"We are visited by the Indians!\"\n\nAll huddled together in great fear. The water began to lower, for the\nhunters had broken down the dam, and soon they could be heard on the\nroof of the lodge, breaking it up. Out jumped all the beavers into the\nwater, and so escaped.\n\nGrasshopper tried to follow, then to call them back; but either they did\nnot hear or would not attend to him. So he had to find his own way of\ngetting out. Now, unfortunately, in order to gratify his ambition, the\nbeavers had made him too large to crawl out of the hole. He wiggled and\ntwisted in vain, and only worried himself till the sweat stood out on\nhis forehead in knobs and huge bubbles. He looked like a great bladder\nswollen and blistered in the sun.\n\nAlthough he heard and understood every word that the hunters spoke--and\nsome of their expressions suggested terrible ideas--he could not turn\nhimself back into a man. He had chosen to be a beaver, and a beaver\nhe must he. One of the hunters, a prying little man with a single lock\ndangling over one eye, put his head in at the top of the lodge.\n\n\"Ty-au!\" cried he. \"Tut ty-au! Me-shau-mik--king of beavers is in.\"\n\nWhereupon the whole crowd of hunters began upon him with their clubs,\nand knocked his skull about until it was no harder than a morass in the\nmiddle of summer. Grasshopper thought as well as ever he did, although\nhe was inhabiting the carcass of a beaver; and he felt that he was in a\nrather foolish scrape.\n\nPresently seven or eight of the hunters hoisted his body upon long\npoles and marched away home with him. As they went, he reflected in this\nmanner:\n\n\"What will become of me? My ghost or shadow will not die after they get\nme to their lodges. So perhaps then I will be free again.\"\n\nInvitations were immediately sent out for a grand feast. But as soon as\nGrasshopper's body got cold, his soul flew off, being uncomfortable in a\nhouse without heat.\n\nHaving reassumed his mortal shape, Grasshopper found himself standing\nnear a prairie. After walking a distance, he saw a herd of elk feeding.\nHe admired their apparent ease and enjoyment of life, and thought there\ncould be nothing more pleasant than the liberty of running about and\nfeeding on the prairies. He had been a water animal and now he wished to\nbecome a land animal, to learn what passed in an elk's head as he\nroved about. So he asked them if they could not turn him into one of\nthemselves.\n\n\"Yes,\" they answered, after a pause. \"Get down on your hands and feet.\"\n\nHe obeyed their directions and forthwith found himself an elk.\n\n\"I want big horns, big feet,\" said he. \"I wish to be very large.\" For\nall the conceit and vain-glory had not been knocked out of Grasshopper,\neven by the sturdy thwacks of the hunters' clubs.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" they answered. \"There,\" exerting their power, \"are you big\nenough?\"\n\n\"That will do,\" he replied, for, looking into a lake hard by,\nGrasshopper saw that he was very large.\n\nThe elk spent their time in grazing and running to and fro; but what\nastonished Grasshopper was that although he often lifted up his head and\ndirected his eyes that way, he could never see the stars, which he had\nso admired as a human being.\n\nBeing rather cold one day, Grasshopper went into a thick wood for\nshelter, whither he was followed by most of the herd. They had not been\nlong there when some elks from behind passed the others like a strong\nwind, calling out:\n\n\"The hunters are after us!\"\n\nAll took the alarm, and off they ran, Grasshopper with the rest.\n\n\"Keep out on the plains,\" they said. But it was too late to profit by\nthis advice, for they had already got entangled in the thick woods.\nGrasshopper soon scented the hunters, who were closely following his\ntrail, for they had left all the other elk and were making after him in\nfull cry. He jumped furiously, dashed through the underwood, and broke\ndown whole groves of saplings in his flight. But this only made it the\nharder for him to get on, such a huge and lusty elk was he by his own\nrequest.\n\nPresently, as he dashed past an open space, he felt an arrow in his\nside. They could not well miss him, he presented so wide a mark to the\nshot. He bounded over trees under the smart, but the shafts clattered\nthicker and thicker at his ribs, and at last one entered his heart.\nHe fell to the ground, and heard the whoop of triumph sounded by the\nhunters. On coming up, they looked on the carcass with astonishment, and\nwith their hands up to their mouths, exclaimed:\n\n\"Ty-au! ty-au!\"\n\nThere were about sixty in the party, which had come out on a special\nhunt, as one of their number the day before had observed his large\ntracks on the plains. Now they were highly elated at having caught this\ngiant elk and immediately set about dividing the spoils. But as soon as\nthe skin was removed, the flesh grew cold. His spirit took its flight\nfrom the dead body, and Grasshopper found himself again in human shape,\nwith a bow and arrows.\n\nBut his passion for adventure was not yet cooled; for on coming to a\nlarge lake with a sandy beach, he saw a large flock of brant. Speaking\nto them in the brant language, he requested them to make a brant of him.\n\n\"Yes,\" they replied at once, for the brant is a bird of a very obliging\ndisposition.\n\n\"But I want to be very large,\" he said. There was no end to the ambition\nof little Grasshopper.\n\n\"Very well,\" they answered, and he soon found himself a large brant, all\nthe others standing gazing in astonishment at his great size.\n\n\"You must fly as leader,\" they said.\n\n\"No,\" answered Grasshopper, \"I will fly behind.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" rejoined the brant. \"One thing more we have to say to you,\nbrother Grasshopper. You must be careful, in flying, not to look down,\nor something may happen to you.\"\n\n\"Well, it is so,\" said he; and soon the flock rose up into the air, for\nthey were bound north. They flew very fast--he behind.\n\nOne day, while going with a strong wind and as swiftly as their wings\ncould flap, they passed over a large village. The Indians raised a great\nshout on seeing them, particularly on Grasshopper's account, for his\nwings were broader than two large mats. The village people made such\na frightful noise that he forgot what had been told him about looking\ndown. They were now scudding along as swift as arrows; and as soon as he\nbrought his neck in and stretched it down to look at the shouters, his\nhuge tail was caught by the wind, and over and over he was blown. He\ntried to right himself, but without success, for he had no sooner got\nout of one heavy air-current than he fell into another, which treated\nhim even more rudely than that which he had escaped from. Down, down\nhe went, making more turns than he wished for, from a height of several\nmiles.\n\nThe first moment he had to look about him, Grasshopper, in the shape of\na big brant, was aware that he was jammed into a large hollow tree. To\nget backward or forward was out of the question, and there, in spite of\nhimself, was Grasshopper forced to tarry till his brant life was ended\nby starvation, when, his spirit being at liberty, he was once more a\nhuman being.\n\nAs he journeyed on in search of further adventures, Grasshopper came to\na lodge in which were two old men, with heads white from extreme age.\nThey were very fine old men to look at. There was such sweetness and\ninnocence in their features that Grasshopper was very glad to accept\ntheir invitation to enter the lodge and tarry a while.\n\nThey treated him well, and when he made known to them that he was going\nback to his village, his friends and people, the two white-headed old\nmen very heartily wished him a good journey and abundance of comfort in\nseeing his friends once more. They even arose, old and infirm as they\nwere, and tottering with exceeding difficulty to the door, were at great\npains to point out to him the exact course he should take; and called\nhis attention to the circumstance that it was much shorter and more\ndirect than the one he would have taken himself. Ah! what merry\ndeceivers were these two old men with very white heads.\n\nGrasshopper, with blessings showered on him until he was fairly out\nof sight, set forth with good heart. He thought he heard loud laughter\nresounding after him in the direction of the lodge; but it could not\nhave been the two old men, for they were, certainly, too old to laugh.\n\nHe walked briskly all day, and at night he had the satisfaction of\nreaching a lodge in all respects like that which he had left in the\nmorning. There were two more fine old men, and his treatment was in\nevery particular the same, even down to the parting blessing and the\nlaughter that followed him as he went his way.\n\nAfter walking the third day and coming to a lodge the same as before,\nhe was satisfied from the bearings of the course he had taken and by a\nnotch which he had cut in the door-post, that he had been journeying\nin a circle, that these were the same two old men, all along, and that,\ndespite their innocent faces and their very white heads, they had been\nplaying him a sorry trick.\n\n\"Who are you,\" said Grasshopper, \"to treat me so? Come forth, I say.\"\n\nThey were compelled to obey his summons, lest, in his anger, he should\ntake their lives; and they appeared on the outside of the lodge.\n\n\"We must have a little trial of speed, now,\" said Grasshopper.\n\n\"A race?\" they asked. \"We are very old; we cannot run.\"\n\n\"We will see,\" said Grasshopper. Whereupon he set them out upon the road\nand gave them a gentle push, which put them in motion. Then he pushed\nthem again--harder--harder--until they got under fine headway, when he\ngave each of them an astounding shock with his foot, and off they flew\nat a great rate, round and round the course; and such was the magic\nvirtue of the foot of Grasshopper, that no object once set a-going by\nit could by any possibility stop; so that, for aught we know to the\ncontrary, the two innocent, whiteheaded, merry old men are trotting to\nthis day, with all their might and main around the circle in which they\nbeguiled Grasshopper.\n\nContinuing his journey, Grasshopper, although his head was warm and\nbuzzing with all sorts of schemes, did not know exactly what to do until\nhe came to a big lake. He mounted a high hill to try and see to the\nother side, but he could not. He then made a canoe and sailed forth. The\nwater was very clear--a transparent blue--and he saw that it abounded\nwith fish of a rare and delicate complexion. This circumstance inspired\nhim with a wish to return to his own village, so that he might bring his\npeople to live near this beautiful lake.\n\nToward evening, coming to a woody island, he encamped and ate the fish\nhe had speared, and they proved to be as comforting to the stomach as\nthey were pleasing to the eye. The next day Grasshopper returned to the\nmainland, and as he wandered along the shore he espied at a distance the\ncelebrated giant, Manabozho, who is a bitter enemy of Grasshopper and\nloses no opportunity to stop him on his journeyings and to thwart his\nplans.\n\nAt first it occurred to Grasshopper to have a trial of wits with the\ngiant, but on second thoughts he said to himself, \"I am in a hurry now;\nI will see him another time.\"\n\nWith no further mischief than raising a great whirlwind of dust, which\ncaused Manabozho to rub his eyes severely, Grasshopper quietly slipped\nout of the way; and he made good speed withal, for in much less time\nthan you could count half the stars in the sky of a winter night, he had\nreached home.\n\nHis return was welcomed with a great hubbub of feasting and songs; and\nhe had scarcely set foot in the village before he had invitations to\ntake pot-luck at different lodges, and ate enough to have lasted him the\nrest of his natural life. Pipe-bearer, who had some time before given\nup the cares of a ruler and fallen back upon his native place, fairly\ndanced with joy at the sight of Grasshopper, who, not to be outdone,\ndandled him affectionately in his arms by casting him up and down in the\nair half a mile or so, till little Pipe-bearer had no breath left in his\nbody to say that he was happy to see Grasshopper home again.\n\nGrasshopper gave the village folks a lively account of his adventures,\nand when he came to the blue lake and the abundant fish, he dwelt upon\ntheir charms with such effect that they agreed, with one voice, that it\nmust be a glorious place to live in, and if he would show them the way\nthey would shift camp and settle there at once.\n\nHe not only showed them the way, but bringing his wonderful strength and\nspeed of foot to bear, in less than half a day he had transported the\nwhole village, with its children, women, tents, and implements of war,\nto the new water-side.\n\nHere, for a time, Grasshopper appeared to be content, until one day a\nmessage was brought him by a bear, who said that their king wished to\nsee him immediately at his village. Grasshopper was ready in an instant;\nand mounting upon the messenger's back, off he went. Toward evening they\nclimbed a high mountain and came to a cave where the bear-king lived.\nHe was a very large person; and puffing with fat and a sense of his own\nimportance, he made Grasshopper welcome by inviting him into his lodge.\n\nAs soon as it was proper, the king spoke, and said that he had sent for\nhim on hearing that he was the chief who was moving a large party into\nthe bears' hunting-ground.\n\n\"You must know,\" said the bear-king with a terrible growl, \"that you\nhave no right there, and I wish you would leave the country with your\nparty, or else the strongest force will take possession. This I say.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" replied Grasshopper, going toward the door, for he\nsuspected that the king of the bears was preparing to give him a hug.\n\"So be it.\"\n\nHe wished to gain time and to consult his people; for he had seen as he\ncame along that the bears were gathering in great force on the side of\nthe mountain. He also made known to the bear-king that he would go back\nthat night so that his people might be put in immediate possession of\nthe royal behest.\n\nThe bear-king replied that Grasshopper might do as he pleased, but that\none of his young men was at his command; so jumping nimbly on his back,\nGrasshopper rode home.\n\nHe assembled the people and ordered the bear's head off, to be hung\noutside of the village, that the bear spies, who were lurking in the\nneighborhood, might see it and carry the news to their chief.\n\nThe next morning, by break of day, Grasshopper had all of his young\nwarriors under arms and ready for a fight. And none too soon, for about\nthe middle of the afternoon the bear war-party came in sight, led on by\nthe fat king. The bears advanced on their hind-legs, making a tremendous\nnoise, and a very imposing display of their teeth and eyeballs.\n\nThe bear-chief himself came forward, and with a majestic wave of his\nright hand, said that he did not wish to shed the blood of the young\nwarriors; but that if Grasshopper consented, they two would have a race.\nThe winner should kill the losing chief, and all his young men should be\nservants to the other.\n\nGrasshopper agreed, of course--how little Pipe-bearer, who stood by,\ngrinned as they came to terms!--and they started to run before the whole\ncompany of warriors who stood in a circle looking on.\n\nAt first there was a prospect that Grasshopper would be badly beaten;\nfor although he kept crowding the great fat bear-king till the sweat\ntrickled from his shaggy ears, he never seemed to be able to push past\nhim. But by and by, Grasshopper, going through a number of the most\nextraordinary maneuvers in the world, raised about the great fat\nbear-king such eddies and whirlwinds of sand, and so danced about,\nbefore and after him, that the king at last got fairly bewildered, and\ncried out for mercy. But Grasshopper still went on and reached the goal\nwhere he only waited for the bear-king to come up to drive an arrow\nthrough him. And now in fulfilment of the agreement the bears must\nbecome servants, and Grasshopper ordered them to take the body off and\nprepare it for supper.\n\n\"I am hungry,\" he said, \"and would hold a great feast to celebrate our\nvictory.\"\n\nAll the bears had to help, and although bound to act becomingly\naccording to the forfeit, they made many a wry face as they carved up\nthe body of their late royal master. And either by accident or design\nthey fell into many curions blunders. One sprightly young fellow of an\ninquisitive turn of mind was found upon the roof of the lodge, with his\nhead half-way down the smoke-hole, with a view to learn what they were\nto have for dinner. Another, a middle-aged bear with very long arms,\nwho was put in charge of the children as nurse while the mothers were\noutside to look after the preparations, squeezed three or four of the\nmost promising young papooses to death; another, when he should have\nbeen waiting at the back of his master, had climbed a shady tree and was\nindulging in his afternoon nap. And when, at last, the dinner was ready\nto be served, they came tumbling in with the dishes, heels over head,\none after the other, so that one-half of the feast was spread upon the\nground, and the other half deposited out of doors, on the other side of\nthe lodge.\n\nAfter a while, however, by strict discipline and threatening to cut off\ntheir provisions, the bear-servants were brought into tolerable control.\n\nYet Grasshopper, with his ever restless disposition, was uneasy; and,\nhaving done so many wonderful things, he resolved upon a strict and\nthorough reform in all the affairs of the village. To prevent future\ndifficulty, he determined to adopt new regulations between the bears and\ntheir masters.\n\nWith this view, he issued an edict that henceforward the bears should\neat at the first table, and that the Indians were to wait upon them;\nthat in all public processions of an honorable character the bears\nshould go first; and that when any fighting was to be done, the Indians\nshould have the privilege reserved of receiving the first shots. A\nspecial exemption was made in behalf of Grasshopper's favorite and\nconfidential adviser, the Pipe-bearer, who had been very busy in\nprivate, recommending the new order of things. He was to be allowed to\nsit at the head of the feast, and to stay at home with the old women in\nthe event of battle.\n\nHaving seen his orders strictly enforced and the rights of the bears\nover the Indians fairly established, Grasshopper fixed his mind upon\nfurther adventures. He determined to go abroad for a time, and having\nan old score to settle with Manabozho, he set out with a hope of soon\nfalling in with that famous giant. Grasshopper was a blood relation of\nDais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell, and had heard of what had passed\nbetween that giant and his kinsman.\n\nAfter wandering a long time he came to the lodge of Manabozho, who was\nabsent. He thought he must play him a trick; and so he turned everything\nin the lodge upside down and killed his birds, of which there was an\nextraordinary attendance. For Manabozho is master of the fowls of the\nair, and this was the appointed morning for them to call and pay their\ncourt to him. Among the number was a raven, accounted the meanest of\nbirds, which Grasshopper killed and hung up by the neck, as an insult.\n\nHe then went on till he came to a very high point of rocks running ont\ninto the lake, from the top of which he could see the country, back as\nfar as the eye could reach. While sitting there, Manabozho's mountain\nchickens flew around and past him in great numbers. Out of mere spite\nto their master, Grasshopper shot them by the score, for his arrows were\nsure and the birds very plenty, and he amused himself by throwing the\nbirds down the rocks. At length a wary bird cried out:\n\n\"Grasshopper is killing us; go and tell our father.\"\n\nAway sped a delegation of the birds which were the quickest of wing, and\nManabozho soon made his appearance on the plain below. Grasshopper, who,\nwhen he is in the wrong, is no match for Manabozho, made his escape on\nthe other side. Manabozho, who had in two or three strides reached the\ntop of the mountain, cried out:\n\n\"You are a rogue. The earth is not so large but I can get up to you.\"\n\nOff ran Grasshopper and Manabozho after him. The race was sharp; and\nsuch leaps and strides as they made! Over hills and prairies with all\nhis speed went Grasshopper, and Manabozho hard upon him. Grasshopper had\nsome mischievous notions still left in his head which he thought might\nbefriend him. He knew that Manabozho was under a spell to restore\nwhatever he, Grasshopper, destroyed. Forthwith he stopped and climbed a\nlarge pine-tree, stripped off its beautiful green foliage, threw it to\nthe winds, and then went on.\n\nWhen Manabozho reached the spot, the tree addressed him:\n\n\"Great chief,\" said the tree, \"will you give me my life again?\nGrasshopper has killed me.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Manabozho, who, as quickly as he could, gathered the\nscattered leaves and branches, renewed its beauty with his breath, and\nset off. Although Grasshopper in the same way compelled Manabozho to\nlose time in repairing the hemlock, the sycamore, cedar, and many other\ntrees, the giant did not falter, but pushing briskly forward, was fast\novertaking him, when Grasshopper happened to see an elk. Asked for old\nacquaintance' sake, to take him on his back, the elk did so, and for\nsome time made good headway, but still Manabozho was in sight.\n\nHe was fast gaining upon him, when Grasshopper threw himself off the\nelk's back. Striking a great sandstone rock near the path, he broke\nit into pieces, and scattered the grains in a thousand directions.\nManabozho was so close upon him at this place that he had almost caught\nhim; but the foundation of the rock, cried out:\n\n\"Haye! Ne-me-sho, Grasshopper has spoiled me. Will you not restore me to\nlife?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Manabozho, and re-established the rock in all its\nstrength.\n\nHe then pushed on in pursuit, and had got so near to Grasshopper as to\nput out his arm to seize him; but Grasshopper dodged him, and, as\nhis last chance, he immediately raised such a dust and commotion by\nwhirlwinds, as made the trees break and the sand and leaves dance in the\nair. Again and again Manabozho stretched out his arm, but Grasshopper\nescaped him at every turn and kept up such a tumult of dust that he was\nable to dash into a hollow tree which had been blown down, and change\nhimself into a snake without Manabozho's seeing him. He crept out at the\nroots just in time to save his life, for at that moment Manabozho, who\nhad the power of lightning, struck the tree, and it was strewn about in\nlittle pieces.\n\nAgain Grasshopper was in human shape, and Manabozho was pressing him\nhard. At a distance he saw a very high bluff of rocks jutting out into\na lake, and he ran for the foot of the precipice, which was abrupt and\nelevated. As he came near, to his surprise and great relief, the Manito\nof the rock opened his door and told Grasshopper to come in. The door\nwas no sooner closed than Manabozho knocked.\n\n\"Open it!\" he-cried, with a loud voice.\n\nThe Manito was afraid of Manabozho; but he said to Grasshopper:\n\n\"Since I have taken you as my guest, I would sooner die with you than\nopen the door.\"\n\n\"Open it!\" Manabozho again cried, in a louder voice than before.\n\nThe Manito kept silent. Manabozho, however, made no attempt to open it\nby force. He waited a few moments.\n\n\"Very well,\" he said, \"I give you till morning to live.\"\n\nGrasshopper trembled, for he thought his last hour had come; but the\nManito bade him to be of good cheer.\n\nWhen the night came on the clouds were thick and black, and as they were\ntorn open by the lightning, such discharges of thunder as bellowed forth\nwere never before heard. The clouds advanced slowly and wrapped the\nearth about with their vast shadows as in a huge cloak. All night long\nthe clouds gathered, and the lightning flashed, and the thunder roared,\nand above all could be heard Manabozho muttering vengeance upon poor\nlittle Grasshopper.\n\n\"You have led a very foolish kind of life, Grasshopper,\" said his friend\nthe Manito.\n\n\"I know it--I know it!\" Grasshopper answered.\n\n\"You had great gifts of strength awarded to you,\" said the Manito.\n\n\"I am aware of it,\" replied Grasshopper.\n\n\"Instead of employing it for useful purposes, and for the good of your\nfellow-creatures, you have done nothing since you became a man but raise\nwhirlwinds on the highways, leap over trees, break whatever you met in\npieces, and perform a thousand idle pranks.\"\n\nGrasshopper, with great penitence, confessed that his friend the Manito\nspoke but too truly; and at last his host, with a still more serious\nmanner, said:\n\n\"Grasshopper, you still have your gift of strength. Dedicate it to the\ngood of mankind. Lay all of these wanton and vainglorious notions out of\nyour head. In a word, be as good as you are strong.\"\n\n\"I will,\" answered Grasshopper. \"My heart is changed; I see the error of\nmy ways.\"\n\nBlack and stormy as it had been all night, when morning came the sun\nwas shining, the air was soft and sweet as the summer down and the blown\nrose; and afar off upon the side of a mountain sat Manabozho, his head\nupon his knees, languid and cast down in spirit. His power was gone, for\nnow Grasshopper was in the right, and he could touch him no more.\n\nWith many thanks Grasshopper left the good Manito, taking the nearest\nway home to his own people.\n\nAs he passed on, he fell in with an old man who was wandering about the\ncountry in search of some place which he could not find. As soon as he\nlearned his difficulty, Grasshopper, placing the old man upon his back,\nhurried away, and in a short hour's despatch of foot set him down among\nhis own kindred, of whom he had been in quest.\n\nLosing no time, Grasshopper next came to an open plain where a small\nnumber of men stood at bay and on the very point of being attacked by\nmany armed warriors, fierce of aspect and of prodigious strength. When\nGrasshopper saw this unequal struggle, he rushed forward, seized a\nlong bare pole, and, wielding it with his whole force, drove the fierce\nwarriors back. Laying about him on every hand, he soon sent them a\nthousand ways in great haste, and in a very sore plight.\n\nWithout tarrying to receive the thanks of those to whom he had brought\nthis timely relief, he made his utmost speed, and by the close of\nthe afternoon he had come in sight of his own village. What were his\nsurprise and horror, as he approached nearer, to discover the bears\nin excellent condition and flesh, seated at lazy leisure in the trees,\nlooking idly on while his brother Indians were dancing a fantastic and\nwearisome dance, for their pastime, in the course of which they were\nfrequently compelled to go upon all fours and bow their heads in\nprofound obeisance to their bear-masters in the trees.\n\nAs he drew nearer, his heart sank within him to see how starved and\nhollow-eyed and woe-begone they were; and his horror was at its height\nwhen, as he entered his own lodge, he beheld his favorite and friend,\nPipe-bearer, also on all fours, smoothing the floor with the palms of\nhis hands to make it a comfortable sitting-place for the bears on their\nreturn from the dance.\n\nIt did not take Grasshopper a long time to resolve what he should do.\nHe immediately resumed power in the village, bestowed a sound cudgeling\nupon the bears, and sent them off to live in the mountains among their\nown people, as bears should; restored to his people all their rights;\ngave them plenty to eat and drink; exerting his great strength in\nhunting, in rebuilding their lodges, keeping in check their enemies, and\ndoing all the good he could to everybody.\n\nPeace and plenty soon shone and showered upon the spot; and never once\nthinking of his wild and wanton frolics, the people blessed Grasshopper\nfor all his kindness, and sincerely prayed that his name might be held\nin honor for a thousand years to come, as no doubt it will.\n\nLittle Pipe-hearer stood by Grasshopper in all his course, and admired\nhis ways as much now that he had taken to being orderly and useful,\nas in the old times when he was walking a mile a minute, and in mere\nwantonness bringing home whole forests in his arms for fire-wood, in\nmidsummer.\n\nIt was a great old age to which Grasshopper lived, and when at last he\ncame to die, there was not a dry eye in all that part of the world where\nhe spent his latter days.\n\n[Illustration: 0157]\n\n\n\n\nIX. THE TOAD-WOMAN\n\n\n|GREAT good luck once happened to a young woman who was living all alone\nin the woods with nobody near her but her little dog; for she found\nfresh meat every morning at her door. She was much surprised and\nvery curious to know who it was that supplied her. So she watched one\nmorning, just as the sun had risen, and saw a handsome young man gliding\naway into the forest. Having seen her, he became her husband, and they\nhad a son.\n\nOne evening not long after this, he did not return as usual from\nhunting. She waited till late at night, but he came not at all.\n\nThe next day she swung her child to sleep in its cradle, and then said\nto her dog, \"Take care of your brother while I am gone, and when he\ncries, halloo for me.\"\n\nThe cradle was made of the finest wampum, and all its bandages and\nornaments were of the same precious stuff.\n\nAfter a short time, the woman heard the cry of the dog, and running\nhome as fast as she could, she found her child gone, and the dog too. On\nlooking around, she saw scattered upon the ground pieces of the wampum\nof her child's cradle, and she knew that the dog had been faithful and\nhad striven his best to save the babe from being carried off.\n\nNow the thief was an old woman from a distant country, called Mukakee\nMindemoea, or the Toad-Woman. The mother hurried off at full speed in\npursuit of her. As she flew along, she came from time to time to lodges\ninhabited by old women, who told her at what time the child-thief had\npassed; they also gave her shoes that she might follow on. A number of\nthese old women seemed to be prophetesses, and knew what was to come\nlong beforehand. Each of them would say to her that when she had arrived\nat the next lodge, she must set the toes of the moccasins they had given\nher pointing homeward, and that they would then return of themselves.\nThe young woman was very careful to send back in this manner all the\nshoes she borrowed.\n\nShe thus followed in the pursuit, from valley to valley, and stream to\nstream, for many months and years, and at length came to the lodge of\nthe last of the friendly old grandmothers, as they were called, who gave\nher final instructions how to proceed. She told the mother that she was\nnear the place where her son was to be found; and she directed her to\nbuild a lodge of cedar-boughs hard by the old Toad-Woman's lodge, and\nto make a little bark dish, and to fill it with the juice of the wild\ngrape.\n\n\"Then,\" she said, \"your first child (meaning the dog) will come and find\nyou out.\"\n\nThese directions the young woman followed just as they had been given to\nher, and in a short time she heard her son, now grown up, going out\nto hunt. The dog was following and she called out to him,\n\"Pee-waubik--Spirit-Iron--Twee! Twee!\"\n\nThe dog came into the lodge, and she set before him the dish of\ngrape-juice.\n\n\"See, my child,\" she said, addressing him, \"the pretty drink your mother\ngives you.\"\n\nSpirit-Iron took a long draught, and immediately left the lodge with\nhis eyes wide open; for this was the drink which teaches one to see the\ntruth of things as they are. He rose up when he got into the open air,\nstood upon his hind-legs, and looked about.\n\n\"I see how it is,\" he said; and marching off, erect as a man, he sought\nout his young master.\n\nApproaching him in great confidence, he bent down and whispered in\nhis ear, having first looked cautiously around to see that no one was\nlistening:\n\n\"This old woman here in the lodge is no mother of yours. I have found\nyour real mother, and she is worth looking at. When we come back from\nour day's sport, I'll prove it to you.\"\n\nThey went out into the woods, and at the close of the afternoon they\nbrought back a great spoil of meat of all kinds. Then the young man, as\nsoon as he had laid aside his weapons, said to the old Toad-Woman, \"Send\nsome of the best of this meat to the stranger who has arrived lately.\"\n\nThe Toad-Woman answered, \"No! Why should I send to her, the poor widow!\"\nBut the young man would not be refused; and at last the old Toad-Woman\nconsented to take something and throw it down at the door.\n\n\"My son gives you this,\" she called out. But, being bewitched by Mukakee\nMindemoea, the meat was so bitter and distasteful that the young woman\nimmediately cast it out of the lodge after her.\n\nIn the evening the young man paid the stranger a visit at her lodge of\ncedar-houghs. She then told him that she was his real mother, and\nthat he had been stolen away from her by the old Toad-Woman, who was a\nchild-thief and a witch. As the young man appeared to doubt, she said\nto him: \"Feign yourself sick when you go home to her lodge; and when the\nToad-Woman asks what ails you, say that you wish to see your cradle;\nfor your cradle was of wampum, and your faithful brother the dog, in\nstriving to save you, tore off these pieces which I show you.\"\n\nThey were real wampum, white and blue, shining and beautiful; and the\nyoung man, placing them in his bosom, set off. He did not seem quite\nsteady in his belief of the strange woman's story. But the dog,\nSpirit-Iron, taking his arm, kept close by his side and gave him many\nwords of encouragement as they went along. They entered the lodge\ntogether; and the old Toad-Woman saw, from something in the dog's eye,\nthat trouble was coming.\n\n\"Mother,\" said the young man, placing his hand to his head and leaning\nheavily upon Spirit-Iron, as if a sudden faintness had come upon him,\n\"Why am I so different in looks from the rest of your children?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she answered, \"there was a very bright, clear blue sky when you\nwere born; that is the reason.\"\n\nHe seemed to be so very ill that the Toad-Woman at length asked what she\ncould do for him. He said that nothing could do him good but the sight\nof his cradle. She ran immediately and brought a cedar cradle; but he\nsaid:\n\n\"That is not my cradle.\"\n\nShe went and got another of her own children's cradles, of which there\nwere four; but he turned his head and said:\n\n\"That is not mine; I am as sick as ever.\"\n\nWhen she had shown the four, and they had all been rejected, she at\nlast produced the real cradle. The young man saw that it was of the same\nstuff as the wampum which he had in his bosom. He could even see the\nmarks of the teeth of Spirit-Iron left upon the edges, where he had\ntaken hold, striving to hold it back. So he had no doubt, now, which was\nhis mother.\n\nTo get free of the old Toad-Woman, it was necessary that the young man\nshould kill a fat bear; and, being directed by Spirit-Iron, who was\nvery wise in such a matter, he secured the fattest in all that country.\nHaving stripped a tall pine of all its bark and branches, he perched\nthe carcass in the top, with its head to the east and its tail due west.\nThen returning to the lodge, he informed the old Toad-Woman that the\nfat hear was ready for her, but that to get it she would have to go very\nfar, even to the end of the earth. She answered:\n\n\"It is not so far but that I can get it!\" For of all things in the\nworld, a fat bear was the delight of the old Toad-Woman.\n\nShe at once set forth; and she was no sooner out of sight than the young\nman and his dog, Spirit-Iron, blew a strong breath in the face of the\nToad-Woman's four children (who were all bad spirits, or bear-fiends),\nand so put out their life. Then setting them up by the side of the door,\nthey thrust a piece of the white bear-fat in each of their mouths.\n\nThe Toad-Woman spent a long time in finding the bear which she had been\nsent after, and she made at least five and twenty attempts before she\nwas able to climb to the carcass. She slipped down three times where she\nwent up once. But at last she succeeded and returned with the great bear\non her back. As she drew near her lodge she was astonished to see\nthe four children standing up by the door-posts with the fat in their\nmouths. She was angry with them, and called out:\n\n\"Why do you thus insult the pomatum of your brother?\"\n\nShe was still more angry when they made no answer to her complaint; but\nwhen she found that they were stark dead and had been placed in this way\nto mock her, her fury was very great indeed. She ran after the tracks of\nthe young man and his mother as fast as she could; so fast, indeed, that\nshe was on the very point of overtaking them, when the dog, Spirit-Iron,\ncoming close up to his master, whispered to him--\"Snake-berry!\"\n\n\"Let the snakeberry spring up to detain her!\" cried out the young man.\nAnd immediately the berries spread for a long distance like scarlet all\nover the path, and the old Toad-Woman, who was almost as fond of these\nberries as she was of fat bears, could not avoid stooping down to pick\nand eat.\n\n[Illustration: 0165]\n\nThe old Toad-Woman was very anxious to get forward, but the\nsnakeberry-vines kept spreading out on every side; and they grew and\ngrew, and spread and spread. And to this day the wicked old Toad-Woman\nis busy picking the berries. She will never be able to get beyond to the\nother side, to disturb the happiness of the young hunter and his mother,\nwho still live, with their faithful dog, in the shadow of the beautiful\nwood-side where they were born.\n\n[Illustration: 0164]\n\n\n\n\nX. THE ORIGIN OF THE ROBIN\n\n\n|AN old man had an only son, named Iadilla, who had come to that age\nwhen it is thought to be time for a boy to make the long and final fast\nwhich is to secure through life a guardian genius or spirit. The father\nwas ambitious that his son should surpass all others in whatever was\ndeemed wisest and greatest among his people. He thought it necessary\nthat the young Iadilla, to do this, should fast a much longer time than\nany of those renowned for their power or wisdom. The father therefore\ndirected his son to prepare with great ceremony for the important event.\nFirst he was to go several times to the sweating-lodge and bath, which\nwere to prepare and purify him for communion with his good spirit. Then\nhe was to lie down upon a clean mat in a little lodge expressly provided\nfor him. He was especially enjoined, at the same time, to endure his\nfast like a man, and promised that at the end of twelve days he should\nreceive food and the blessing of his father.\n\nThe lad carefully observed these commands, and lay with his face\ncovered, calmly awaiting the approach of the spirit which was to decide\nhis good or evil fortune for all the days of his life.\n\nEvery morning his father came to the door of the little lodge and\nencouraged him to persevere, dwelling at length on the vast honor and\nrenown that must ever attend him, should he accomplish the full term of\ntrial allotted to him.\n\nTo these glowing words of promise and glory the boy never replied, but\nhe lay without the least sign of discontent or murmuring until the ninth\nday, when he addressed his father as follows:\n\n\"My father, my dreams forbode evil. May I break my fast now, and at a\nmore favorable time make a new fast?\"\n\nThe father answered:\n\n\"My son, you know not what you ask. If you get up now, all your glory\nwill depart. Wait patiently a little longer. You have but three days\nmore, and your term will be completed. You know it is for your own good,\nand I encourage you to persevere. Shall not your aged father live to see\nyou a star among the chieftains and the beloved of battle?\"\n\nThe son assented; and covering himself more closely, that he might shut\nout the light which prompted him to complain, he lay till the eleventh\nday, when he repeated his request.\n\nThe father addressed Iadilla as he had the day before, and promised that\nhe would himself prepare his first meal and bring it to him by the dawn\nof the next morning.\n\nThe son moaned, and the father added:\n\n\"Will you bring shame upon your father when he is is falling in the west?\"\n\n\"I will not shame you, my father,\" replied Iadilla; he lay so still and\nmotionless that you could only know that he was living by the gentle\nheaving of his chest.\n\nAt the spring of day, the father, delighted at having gained his end,\nprepared a repast for his son and hastened to set it before him. But on\ncoming to the door of rhe little lodge, he was surprised to hear his son\ntalking to himself. He stooped his ear to listen, and, looking through\na small opening, was yet more astonished when he beheld his son painted\nwith vermillion over all his breast. He was just in the act of finishing\nhis work by laying on the paint as far back on his shoulders as he could\nreach, saying at the same time to himself: \"My father has destroyed my\nfortune as a man. He would not listen to my requests. He has urged me\nbeyond my tender strength. He will be the loser. I shall be forever\nhappy in my new state, for I have been obedient to my parent. He alone\nwill be the sufferer, for my guardian spirit is a just one. Though\nnot propitious to me in the manner I desired, he has shown me pity in\nanother way--he has given me another shape; and now I must go.\"\n\nAt this moment the old man broke in, exclaiming:\n\n\"My son! my son! I pray you leave me not!\"\n\nBut the young man, with the quickness of a bird, had flown to the top of\nthe lodge and perched himself on the highest pole, having been changed\ninto a beautiful robin red-breast. He looked down upon his father with\npity beaming in his eyes, and addressed him as follows:\n\n\"Regret not, my father, the change you behold. I shall be happier in\nmy present state than I could have been as a man. I shall always be the\nfriend of men and keep near their dwellings. I shall ever be happy and\ncontented; and although I could not be a mighty warrior as you wished,\nit will be my daily aim to make you amends for it as a harbinger of\npeace and joy. I will cheer you by my songs and strive to inspire in\nothers the joy and lightsomeness of heart I feel in my present state.\nThis will be some compensation to you for the loss of glory you\nexpected. I am now free from the cares and pains of human life. My food\nis spontaneously furnished by the mountains and fields, and my path of\nfife is in the bright air.\"\n\nThen stretching himself on his toes, as if delighted with the gift of\nwings, Iadilla carolled one of his sweetest songs and flew away into a\nneighboring wood.\n\n[Illustration: 0170]\n\n\n\n\nXI. WHITE FEATHER AND THE SIX GIANTS\n\n\n|THERE was an old man living in the depth of a forest with his grandson,\nwhom he had taken in charge when quite an infant. The child had no\nparents, brothers, or sisters; they had all been destroyed by six large\ngiants, and he was informed that he had no other relative living besides\nhis grandfather. The band of Indians to whom he had belonged had put up\ntheir children on a wager in a race against those of the giants, and had\nthus lost them. But there was an old tradition in the tribe, that one\nday it would produce a great man, who would wear a white feather, and\nwho would astonish every one by his feats of skill and bravery.\n\nThe grandfather, as soon as the child could play about, gave him a bow\nand arrows to amuse himself with. He went into the edge of the woods\none day and saw a rabbit; but not knowing what it was, he ran home and\ndescribed it to his grandfather, who told him that its flesh was good to\neat, and that if he would shoot one of his arrows into its body he would\nkill it. The boy went out again and brought home the little animal,\nwhich he asked his grandfather to boil, that they might feast on it. The\nold man humored the boy in this and encouraged him to go on acquiring\nthe knowledge of hunting, until he could kill deer and the larger kinds\nof game. And thus he became, as he grew up, an expert hunter.\n\nAs they lived alone, and away from other Indians, the curiosity of the\nstripling was excited to know what was passing in the world. One day\nhe came to the edge of a prairie, where he saw ashes like those at his\ngrandfather's lodge, and lodge-poles left standing. He returned and\ninquired whether his grandfather had put up the poles and made the fire.\n\n\"No,\" answered the old man, \"nor do I believe that you have seen\nanything of the kind; you must have lost your sense to be thinking of\nsuch things.\"\n\nAnother day the youth went out to see what there was, within a day's\nhunt, that was curious; and on entering the woods he heard a voice\ncalling out to him:\n\n\"Come here, you who are destined to wear the White Feather. You do not\nwear it, yet, but you are worthy of it. Return home and take a short\nnap. You will dream of hearing a voice, which will tell you to rise and\nsmoke. You will see in your dream a pipe, a smoking-sack, and a large\nwhite feather. When you awake you will find these articles. Put the\nfeather on your head, and you will become a great hunter, a great\nwarrior, and a great man, able to do anything. As a proof that these\nthings shall come to pass, when you smoke, the smoke will turn into\npigeons.\"\n\nThe voice then informed the youth who he was, and made known the\ncharacter of his grandfather, who was imposing upon him to serve his own\nends.\n\nThe voice-spirit then caused a vine to be laid at his side, and told him\nthat he was now of an age to avenge the wrongs of his kindred.\n\n\"When you meet your enemy,\" the spirit added, \"you will run a race with\nhim. He will not see the vine, because it is enchanted. While you are\nrunning, you will throw it over his head and entangle him, so that you\nwill win the race.\"\n\nLong before this speech was ended the youth had turned to the quarter\nfrom which the voice proceeded, and was astonished to behold a man; as\nyet he had never seen any human being besides his grandfather.\n\nAs he looked more keenly, he saw that this man, who had the looks of\ngreat age, was wood from the breast downward, and that he appeared to\nbe fixed in the earth. As the youth's eye dwelt upon this strange being,\nthe countenance by degrees faded away, and when he advanced to the spot\nwhence it had addressed him, it was gone.\n\nHe returned home; slept, and in the midst of his slumbers, as from\nthe hollow of the air, heard the voice; wakened and found the promised\ngifts. It was all just as the old man had said. The grandfather on\nawakening was greatly surprised to find the youth with a white feather\non his forehead, and to see flocks of pigeons flying out of the lodge.\nHe then remembered the old tradition, and knowing that now the day had\ncome when he should lose control of his charge, he bitterly bewailed the\nhour.\n\nPossessed of his three magic gifts, the young man departed the next\nmorning, to seek his enemies and to demand revenge.\n\nThe six giants lived in a very high lodge in the middle of a wood. He\ntraveled on with good heart till he reached this lodge, where he found\nthat his coming had been made known by the little spirits who carry\nthe news. The giants hastened out and gave a cry of joy as they saw him\ndrawing near. \"When he approached within hail, they began to make sport\nof him, saying:\n\n\"Here comes the little man with the white feather, who is to achieve\nsuch wonderful wonders.\"\n\nWhen, however, he had arrived among them, they spoke him fair, saying he\nwas a brave man and would do brave things. Their object was to encourage\nhim, so that he would be bold to engage in some foolhardy trial of\nstrength.\n\nWithout paying much heed to their fine speeches, White Feather went\nfearlessly into their lodge; and without waiting for invitation, he\nchallenged them to a foot-match. They agreed; and by way of being easy\nat first, told him to begin the race with the smallest of their number.\n\nThe point to which they were to run was a peeled tree toward the rising\nsun, and then back to the starting-place, which was a war-club of iron.\nWhoever won this stake was empowered to use it in despatching the\ndefeated champion. If White Feather should overcome the first giant, he\nwas to try the second, and so on, until they had all measured speed with\nhim. To this the giants agreed without a thought that he would survive\nthe first trial. But White Feather feared nothing and, by a dexterous\nuse of the vine, gained the race, struck down his competitor, and cut\noff his head.\n\nThe next morning he raced with the second giant, whom he also outran,\nkilled and beheaded.\n\nHe went on in this way for five mornings, always conquering by the aid\nof his vine, and lopping off the heads of the vanquished.\n\nFinally the last of the giants who was yet to run with him acknowledged\nhis power, but prepared secretly to deceive him. By way of parley, he\nproposed that White Feather should leave the heads with him, and offered\nto give him a handsome start for odds. This White Feather declined, as\nhe preferred to keep the heads as trophies of his victory.\n\nOn his way to the giant's lodge the sixth morning, White Feather met\nhis old counsellor in the woods. He was standing rooted in the earth,\nas before. He told White Feather that he was about to give him a word of\nwarning.\n\n\"On your way this morning,\" he said, \"you will meet the most beautiful\nwoman in the world, but do not trust her or pay the least attention to\nher. As soon as you catch her eye you must wish yourself changed into an\nelk. The change will take place immediately. Do not look at her again.\"\n\nWhite Feather thanked his kind adviser, who even as he spoke was\ndisappearing as before, then proceeded toward the lodge. He had not\ngone far before he met the maiden, who was, indeed, as lovely as the\nmorning's light. This was White Feather's first sight of a maiden, and\nhe was greatly disposed to linger. But remembering the counsellor's\nwords, he lost no time in becoming an elk. At this the maiden began to\nreproach him that he had cast aside the form of a man so that he might\navoid her.\n\n\"I have traveled a great distance,\" she said, \"to see you and to become\nyour wife; for I have heard of your great achievements and admire you\nvery much.\"\n\nNow this woman was the sixth giant, who had assumed this disguise to\nentrap White Feather. But without a suspicion of her real character, her\nreproaches and her beauty affected him so deeply that he wished himself\na man again, and at once resumed his natural shape. Then they sat down\nand began to talk together.\n\nSoothed by her smiles and gracious manner, he laid his head on her lap,\nand in a little while fell into a deep slumber.\n\nEven then, such was her fear of White Feather, she doubted whether his\nsleep might not be feigned. To assure herself she pushed his head aside,\nand seeing that he remained unconscious, she quickly assumed the form\nof the sixth giant. He took the plume from the brow of White Feather and\nplaced it upon his own head. Then with a sudden blow of his war-club the\ngiant changed White Feather into a dog, in which form he followed his\nenemy to the lodge.\n\nWhile these things were passing, there were living in an Indian village\nat some distance two sisters, the daughters of a chief. These sisters\nwere rivals, and they were at that very time fasting to acquire power\nfor enticing the wearer of the white feather to visit their lodge. They\neach secretly hoped to win his love, and each had built a lodge on the\nborder of the village encampment.\n\nThe giant, knowing this and having become possessed of the magic plume,\nwent immediately to visit them. As he approached, the sisters, who were\non the look-out at their lodge-doors, espied and recognized the feather.\n\nThe elder sister had prepared her lodge with great show, and all the\nfinery she could command, so as to attract the eye. The younger touched\nnothing in her lodge, but left it in its ordinary state.\n\nThe elder went out to meet the giant and invited him in. He accepted\nher invitation and made her his wife. The younger sister invited the\nenchanted dog into her lodge, prepared him a good supper and a neat bed,\nand treated him with much attention.\n\nThe giant, supposing that whoever possessed the white feather possessed\nalso all its virtues, went out upon the prairie to hunt, hallooing\naloud to the game to come and be killed; but the great hubbub he kept up\nscared them away, and he returned at night with nothing but himself; for\nhe had shouted so lustily all day long that he had been obliged to leave\neven the mighty halloo behind.\n\nThe dog went out the same day hunting upon the banks of a river. He\nstole quietly along to a certain spot, and stepping into the water drew\nout a stone, which instantly became a beaver.\n\nThe next day the giant followed the dog, and hiding behind a tree,\nwatched the manner in which the dog hunted in the river and drew out a\nstone, which at once turned into a beaver.\n\n\"Ah, ha!\" said the giant to himself, \"I will catch some beaver for\nmyself.\"\n\nSo as soon as the dog had left the place, the giant went to the river,\nand, imitating the dog, drew out a stone. He was delighted to see it\nchange into a fine fat beaver as soon as it touched the land.\n\nTying it to his belt he hastened home, shouting a good deal and\nbrandishing the white feather about, as if he were prepared now to show\nthem what he could do when he once tried. And when he reached home he\nthrew the beaver down, as is the custom, at the door of the lodge before\nhe entered.\n\nAfter being seated a short time, he gave a dry cough and bade his wife\nbring in his hunting girdle. She made despatch to obey him and presently\nreturned with the girdle, with nothing tied to it but a stone.\n\nThe next day the dog, finding that his method of catching beavers had\nbeen discovered, went to a wood at some distance and broke off a charred\nlimb from a burned tree. This limb instantly became a bear. The giant,\nwho appeared to have lost faith in his hullaba-looing, again watched\nhim, did exactly as the dog had done, and carried a bear home; but his\nwife, when she came to go out for it, found nothing but a black stick\ntied to his belt.\n\nAnd so it happened with everything. Whatever the dog undertook,\nprospered; whatever the giant attempted, failed. And even his brave\nhalloo had now died away to a feeble chirp. Every day the younger sister\nhad reason to be more proud of the poor dog she had asked into her\nlodge, and every day the elder sister was made more aware that, though\nshe had married the white feather, the virtues of the magic plume were\nnot the personal property of the noisy giant.\n\nAt last the wife determined that she would go to her father and make\nknown to him what a valuable husband she had, and how he furnished her\nlodge with a great abundance of sticks and stones, which he would pass\nupon her for bear and beaver. So, when her husband had started for the\nhunt, she set out.\n\nAs soon as these two had gone away from the neighborhood, the dog made\nsigns to his mistress to sweat him after the manner of the Indians.\nHe had always been a good dog, and she was willing to oblige him. She\naccordingly made a lodge just large enough for him to creep in. She then\nput in heated stones and poured water upon them, raising a vapor that\nfilled the lodge and searched with its warmth to the very heart's core\nof the enchanted dog.\n\nWhen this had been kept up for the customary time, the enchanted dog was\ncompletely sweated away, and out came in his stead a very handsome young\nman. But unhappily he was without the power of speech. In taking away\nthe form of the dog, it appears that the sweating-lodge had also carried\noff his voice with it.\n\nMeantime the elder sister had reached her father's lodge and had told\nhim with much circumstance and a very long face how her sister was\nsupporting an idle dog, and entertaining him as her husband. In her\nanxiety to make known her sister's affairs and the great scandal she was\nbringing upon the family, the elder sister forgot to say anything of\nthe sticks and stones which her own husband brought home for bears and\nbeavers. The old man listening to his daughter and suspecting that there\nwas magic about, sent a deputation of young men and women to ask his\nyounger daughter to come to him and to bring her dog along with her.\nWhen the deputation reached the lodge, they were surprised to find in\nthe place of the dog a fine young man; and on announcing their message,\nthey all returned to the old chief, who was no less surprised at the\nchange.\n\nHe immediately assembled all the old and wise beads of the nation to\ncome and be witnesses to the exploits which it was reported that the\nyoung man could perform. The sixth giant, although neither very old nor\nvery wise, thrust himself in among the relations of the old chief.\n\nWhen they were all assembled and seated in a circle, the old chief took\nhis pipe and filled it, and passed it to the Indians around, to see if\nanything would happen when they smoked. They passed it on until it came\nto the Dog, who made a sign that it should be handed first to the giant,\nand this was done. And the giant puffed with all his might, and shook\nthe white feather upon his head, and swelled his chest; but nothing came\nof it, except a great deal of smoke. The Dog then took it himself. He\nmade a sign to them to put the white feather upon his head. This was no\nsooner done than he recovered his speech, and, beginning to draw upon\nthe pipe at the same moment, behold! immense flocks of white and blue\npigeons rushed from the smoke.\n\n[Illustration: 0183]\n\nThen White Feather, at the request of the company, faithfully recounted\nhis history, and the sixth giant was known for what he was. So the old\nchief, who was a magician too, ordered that he should be transformed\ninto a dog and turned into the middle of the village, where the boys\ncould pelt him to death with clubs. This being done, the whole six\ngiants were at an end, and never troubled that neighborhood again,\nforever after.\n\nThe chief then gave out a further command, at the request of White\nFeather, that all the young men should employ themselves four days in\nmaking arrows. White Feather also asked for a buffalo robe. This he cut\ninto thin shreds, and in the night went secretly and sowed them about\nthe prairie in every direction.\n\nAt the end of the four days he invited the young men to gather together\nall of their arrows and to accompany him to a buffalo hunt. When they\ngot out upon the prairie, they found it covered with a great herd of\nbuffalos. Of these they killed as many as they pleased, and afterward\nthey had a grand festival in honor of White Feather's triumph over the\ngiants.\n\nAll this being pleasantly over, White Feather got his wife to ask her\nfather's permission to go with him on a visit to his grandfather. The\nold chief replied that a woman must follow her husband into whatever\nquarter of the world he may choose to go.\n\nSo bidding farewell to all his friends, White Feather placed the plume\nin his frontlet, took his war-club in his hand, and led the way into the\nforest, followed by his faithful wife.\n\n\n\n\nXII. SHEEM, THE FORSAKEN BOY\n\n\n|ON a certain afternoon the sun was falling in the west, and in the\nmidst of the ruddy silence a solitary lodge stood on the banks of\na remote lake. One sound only broke in the least degree the forest\nstillness--the low breathing of the dying inmate of the lodge, who was\nthe head of a poor family. His wife and children surrounded the buffalo\nrobe on which he lay. Of the children, two were almost grown up--a\ndaughter and a son; the other was a boy, and a mere child in years.\n\nAll the skill of the household in simple medicines was exhausted, and\nthey stood watching now, awaiting the departure of the spirit. As one\nof the last acts of kindness, the skin door of the lodge had been\nthrown back to admit the fresh air of the evening. The poor man felt a\nmomentary return of strength, and raising himself a little, he addressed\nhis family:\n\n\"I leave you,\" he said, \"in a world of care, in which it has required\nall my strength and skill to supply you food, and to protect you from\nthe storms and cold of a harsh climate.\"\n\nHe cast his eyes upon his wife, and continued: \"For you, my partner in\nlife, I have less sorrow, because I am persuaded you will not remain\nlong behind me; but you, my children! my poor and forsaken children, who\nhave just begun the career of life! Who will shelter you from calamity?\nListen to my words. Unkindness, ingratitude, and every wickedness are\nin the outside world. It was for this that years ago I withdrew from\nmy kindred and my tribe to spend our days in this lonely spot. I have\ncontented myself with the company of your mother and yourselves, during\nseasons of very frequent scarcity and want, while your kindred, feasting\nin plenty, have caused the forests to echo with the shouts of successful\nwar. I gave up these things for the enjoyment of peace. I wished to hide\nyou away from the bad examples which would have spoiled your innocence.\nI have seen you, thus far, grow up in purity of heart. If we have\nsometimes suffered bodily want, we have escaped pain of mind. We have\nnot been compelled to look on or to take a part with the red hand in\nscenes of rioting and bloodshed. My path now stops. I have arrived\nat the brink of the world. I will shut my eyes in peace if you, my\nchildren, will promise me to cherish each other. Let not your mother\nsuffer during the few days that are left to her; and I charge you, on\nno account, to forsake your younger brother. Of him I give you both my\ndying command to have a tender care.\"\n\nHe spoke no more, and as the sun fell out of view the light had gone\nfrom his face. The family stood still, as if they expected to hear\nsomething further; but when they came to his side and called him by\nname, his spirit did not answer. It was in another world.\n\nThe mother and daughter lamented aloud, but the elder son clothed\nhimself in a mantle of silence and took his course as though nothing had\noccurred. He exerted himself to supply, with his bow and net, the wants\nof the little household, but he never made mention of his father.\n\nFive moons had filled and waned, and the sixth was near its full, when\nthe mother also died. In her last moments she begged them to fulfil\ntheir father's wish.\n\nThe winter passed, and the spring, sparkling in the clear northern air,\ncheered the spirits of the lonely little people in the lodge.\n\nThe girl, being the eldest, directed her brothers, and she seemed to\nfeel a tender and sisterly affection for the youngest, who was slight of\nframe and of a delicate temper. The other boy soon began to break forth\nwith restless speeches, which showed that his spirit was not at ease.\nOne day he addressed his sister as follows:\n\n\"My sister, are we always to live as if there were no other human beings\nin the world? Must I deprive myself of the pleasure of mingling with my\nown kind? I have determined this question for myself. I shall seek the\nvillages of men, and you can not prevent me.\"\n\nThe sister replied:\n\n\"I do not say no, my brother, to what you desire; we are not forbidden\nthe society of our fellow mortals, but we are told to cherish each\nother, and to do nothing that shall not be agreeable to all our little\nhousehold. Neither pleasure nor pain ought, therefore, to separate us,\nespecially from our younger brother, who, being but a child and weakly\nwithal, is entitled to a double share of our affection. If we follow our\nseparate fancies, it will surely make us neglect him, whom we are bound\nto support by vows both to our father and mother.\"\n\nThe young man received this address in silence, still took his course as\nthough nothing out of the ordinary way had occurred, and after a while\nseemed to recover his spirits. Now as they lived in a large country,\nwhere there were open fields, the two brothers often amused themselves\nin playing ball. One afternoon Owasso, the elder brother, chose the\nground near to a beautiful lake, and they played and laughed with great\nspirit, and the ball was seldom allowed to touch the ground.\n\nIn this lake there happened to harbor a wicked old Manito, Mishosha by\nname. He looked at the brothers as they played and was vastly pleased\nwith their nimbleness and beauty. He thought to himself, \"What shall I\ndo to get these lads to accompany me? I know--one of them shall hit the\nball sideways and it shall fall into my canoe.\"\n\nIt so happened, and it somehow seemed as if Owasso had purposely given\nthe ball that direction. But when he saw the old man, he professed to be\ngreatly surprised, as the other, Sheem by name, was in truth, for he had\nnot noticed the old Manito before.\n\n\"Bring the ball to us,\" they both cried ont. \"Come to the shore.\"\n\n\"No,\" answered the old magician. He, however, came near enough for\neither of them to wade out to him. \"Come, come,\" he said. \"Come and get\nyour ball.\"\n\nThey insisted that he should come ashore, but this he sturdily declined\nto do.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Owasso, \"I will go and get it.\" And he ran into the\nwater. \"Hand it to me,\" he said, when he had approached near enough to\nreceive it.\n\n\"Ha!\" answered the Manito, \"reach over and get it yourself.\"\n\nOwasso was about to grasp the ball, when the old magician suddenly\nseized him and pushed him into the boat.\n\n\"My grandfather,\" said Owasso, \"pray take my little brother also. Alone\nI can not go with you; he will starve if I leave him.\"\n\nMishosha only laughed at him. He then uttered the charmed words,\n\"Chemaun Poll!\" and gave his canoe a slap, whereupon it glided through\nthe water with the swiftness of an arrow without further help.\n\nIn a short time they reached the magician's lodge, which stood upon the\nfurther shore a little distance back from the lake. The two daughters of\nMishosha were seated within.\n\n\"My daughter,\" the magician said to the eldest, as they entered the\nlodge, \"I have brought you a husband.\"\n\nThe young woman smiled; for Owasso was a comely youth to look upon.\nThe magician told him to take his seat near her, and by this act the\nmarriage ceremony was completed. Owasso and the magician's daughter were\nnow man and wife, and in the course of time a son was born to them.\n\nBut no sooner was Owasso in the family than the old Manito wished him\nout of the way, and went about in his own wicked fashion to compass it.\n\nOne day he asked his son-in-law to go out a-fishing with him. They\nstarted without delay; for the magician had only to speak, and oft went\nthe canoe. Soon they reached a solitary bay in an island, a very dark,\nlonely, and out-of-the-way place. The Manito advised Owasso to spear\na large sturgeon that came alongside, which with its great glassy eye\nturned up seemed to recognize the magician. Owasso rose in the boat to\ndart his spear, and by speaking that moment to his canoe, Mishosha shot\nforward in it and hurled his son-in-law headlong into the water. Leaving\nhim to struggle for himself, the old magician was soon out of sight.\n\nMeanwhile Owasso, being himself gifted with certain limited magical\npowers, spoke to the fish and bade him swim toward the lodge, then\ngrabbing hold of the tail, he was carried along at great speed. Once he\ndirected the sturgeon to rise near the surface of the water, so that\nhe might, if possible, get a view of the magician. The fish obeyed, and\nOwasso saw the wicked old Manito busy in another direction, fishing, as\nunconcerned as though he had not just lost a member of his family.\n\nOn went the fish, and on went Owasso, till they reached the shore, near\nthe magician's lodge. He then spoke kindly to the sturgeon and told him\nhe should not be angry at having been speared, as he was created to be\nmeat for man. The sturgeon made no reply, or if he did, it has not been\nreported; and Owasso, drawing the fish on shore, went up and told his\nwife to dress and cook it immediately. By the time it was prepared the\nmagician had come in sight.\n\n\"Your grandfather has arrived,\" said the woman to her son; \"go and see\nwhat he brings, and eat this as you go\"--handing him a piece of the\nfish.\n\nThe boy went, and the magician no sooner saw him with the fish in his\nhand, than he asked him, \"What are you eating? Who brought it?\"\n\nThe boy replied, \"My father brought it.\"\n\nThe magician began to feel uneasy, for he saw that he had been\noutwitted. He put on a grave face, however, and entering the lodge,\nacted as if nothing unusual had happened.\n\nSome days after this, Mishosha again requested his son-in-law to\naccompany him; and Owasso, without hesitation, said \"Yes!\"\n\nThey went out and quickly arrived at a solitary island, which was no\nmore than a heap of high and craggy rocks.\n\nThe magician said to Owasso, \"Go on shore, my son, and pick up all the\ngulls' eggs you can find.\"\n\nThe rocks were strewn with eggs, and the air resounded with the cry of\nthe birds as they saw them gathered up by Owasso.\n\nThe old magician took the opportunity to speak to the gulls.\n\n\"I have long wished,\" he said, \"to offer you something. I now give you\nthis young man for food.\"\n\nHe then uttered the charm to his canoe, and it shot out of sight,\nleaving Owasso to make his peace the best way he could.\n\nThe gulls flew in immense numbers around, all ready to devour him, but\nOwasso did not lose his presence cf mind. He addressed them and said:\n\n\"Gulls, you know you were not formed to eat human flesh, nor was man\nmade to be the prey of birds. Obey my words. Fly close together, a\nsufficient number of you, and carry me on your backs to the magician's\nlodge.\"\n\n[Illustration: 0193]\n\nThey listened attentively to what he said, and seeing nothing\nunreasonable in his request, they obeyed him, and Owasso soon found\nhimself sailing swiftly homeward through the air.\n\nMeanwhile the old magician had fallen asleep and allowed his canoe to\ncome to a standstill. Owasso, in his flight over the lake, saw him lying\non his back in the boat taking a nap, which was quite natural, as the\nday was very soft and balmy.\n\nAs Owasso, with his convoy of birds, passed over, he let fall a capful\nof gulls' eggs directly in the face of the old magician. They broke and\nso besmeared Misho-sha's eyes that he could barely see. He jumped up and\nexclaimed:\n\n\"It is always so with these thoughtless birds. They never consider where\nthey drop their eggs.\"\n\nOwasso flew on and reached the lodge in safety, where, excusing himself\nfor the liberty, he killed two or three of the gulls, as he wished their\nfeathers to ornament his son's head.\n\nWhen the magician arrived, soon after, his grandson came out to meet\nhim, tossing his head about as the feathers danced and struggled with\nthe wind.\n\n\"Where did you get these,\" asked the Manito, \"and who brought them?\"\n\n\"My father brought them,\" the boy replied.\n\nThe old magician was quite distressed in his mind that he had not\ndestroyed his son-in-law. He entered his lodge in silence and set his\nwits busily at work again to contrive some more successful plan to gain\nhis purpose.\n\nHe could not help saying to himself:\n\n\"What manner of boy is this who is ever escaping from my power? But his\nguardian spirit shall not save him. I will entrap him to-morrow. Ha, ha,\nha!\"\n\nHe was painfully aware that he had tried two of his charms without\neffect, and that he had only two more left. But he now professed to be\nmore friendly with his son-in-law than ever, and the very next day he\nsaid to Owasso:\n\n\"Come, my son, you must go with me to procure some young eagles. We will\ntame them and have them for pets about the lodge. I have discovered an\nisland where they are in great abundance.\"\n\nThey started on the trip, and after traversing an immense waste of\nwater, at last reached the island. Mishosha led Owasso inland until they\ncame to the foot of a tall pine-tree, upon which the nests were to be\nfound.\n\n\"Now, my son,\" said Mishosha, \"climb up this tree and bring down the\nbirds. I think you will get some fine ones up there.\"\n\nOwasso obeyed. When he had with great difficulty got near the nest,\nMishosha cried out, addressing himself to the tree, and without much\nregard for the wishes of Owasso:\n\n\"Now stretch yourself up and he very tall.\"\n\nThe tree, at this bidding, rose up so far that Owasso would have\nimperiled his neck by any attempt to get to the ground.\n\n\"Listen, ye eagles!\" continued Mishosha. \"You have long expected a gift\nfrom me. I now present you this boy, who has had the presumption to\nclimb up to your nests in order to molest your young. Stretch forth your\nclaws and seize him.\"\n\nSo saying, the old magician turned his back upon Owasso, and going off\nin the canoe, left his son-in-law to shift for himself.\n\nBut the birds did not seem to be so badly minded as the old magician had\nsupposed; for a very old bald eagle, quite corpulent and large of limb,\nalighted on a branch just opposite, opened conversation with Owasso by\nasking what had brought him there.\n\nOwasso replied that he had not mounted the tree of himself, or out of\nany disposition to harm the birds, but that his father-in-law, the old\nmagician who had just left them, had sent him up; that he was constantly\nsending him on mischievous errands. In a word, the young man was\nenlarging at great length upon the character of the wicked Manito, when\nhe was interrupted by being darted upon by a hungry-eyed bird, with long\nclaws.\n\nOwasso, not in the least disconcerted, boldly seized this fierce eagle\nby the neck and dashed it against the rocks, crying out:\n\n\"Thus will I deal with all who come near me.\"\n\nThe old eagle, who appeared to be the head of the tribe, was so pleased\nwith this show of spirit that he immediately appointed two tall birds,\nuncommonly strong in the wings, to transport Owasso to his lodge. They\nwere to take turns in conducting him through the air.\n\nOwasso expressed many obligations to the old eagle for his kindness, and\nthey forthwith set out. It was a high point from which they started,\nfor the pine-tree had shot far, far up toward the clouds, and they could\neven descry from it the enchanted island where the old magician lived,\nthough it was miles and miles away. For this point they steered their\nflight; and in a short time they landed Owasso at the door of the lodge.\n\nWith many compliments for their despatch, Owasso dismissed the birds and\nstood ready to greet his wicked father-in-law who arrived a few minutes\nafter. And now when Mishosha espied his son-in-law standing there\nunharmed he became very black in the face and raged horribly. But\ndissembling his feelings and still professing great friendship he\npondered deeply as to how he might use his one remaining charm to the\nbest advantage.\n\nWhile he was still considering this, Owasso and his wife, sitting on the\nbanks of the lake one evening, heard a song, as if sung by some one at a\ngreat distance. The sound continued for some time and then died away in\nperfect stillness.\n\n\"Oh, it is the voice of Sheem,\" cried Owasso. \"It is the voice of my\nbrother! If I could only see him!\" And he hung down his head in deep\nanguish.\n\nHis wife witnessed his distress, and to comfort him she proposed that\nthey should attempt to make their escape and carry him succor on the\nmorrow.\n\nWhen the morning came, and the sun shone warmly into the lodge, the wife\nof Owasso offered to comb her father's hair, with the hope that it would\nsoothe him to sleep. It had that effect; and they no sooner saw him\nin deep slumber than they seized the magic canoe, Owasso uttered the\ncharmed words, \"Chemaun Poll!\" and they glided away upon the water\nwithout need of oar or sail.\n\nThey had nearly reached the land on the opposite side of the lake,\nand could distinctly hear the voice of the younger brother singing his\nlament as before, when the old magician wakened. Missing his daughter\nand her husband, he suspected deception of some kind; he looked for his\nmagic boat and found it gone. He spoke the magic words, which were more\npowerful from him than from any other person in the world, and the canoe\nimmediately returned; to the sore disappointment of Owasso and his wife.\n\nWhen they came back to the shore, Mishosha stood upon the beach and\ndrew up his canoe. He did not utter a word. The son-in-law and daughter\nentered the lodge in silence.\n\nThe time, walking along in its broad open path, brought the autumn\nmonths to a close, and the winter had set in. Soon after the first fall\nof snow, Owasso said:\n\n\"Father, I wish to try my skill in hunting. It is said there is plenty\nof game not far off, and it can now be easily tracked. Let us go.\"\n\nThe magician consented; they set out, and arriving at a good ground\nfor their sport, spent the day in hunting. Night coming on, they\nbuilt themselves a lodge of pine-branches to sleep in. Although it was\nbitterly cold, the young man took off his leggings and moccasins and\nhung them up to dry. The old magician did the same, carefully hanging\nhis own in a separate place, and they lay down to sleep.\n\nOwasso, from a glance he had given, suspected that the magician had a\nmind to play him a trick; and to be beforehand with him, he watched an\nopportunity to get up and change the moccasins and leggings, putting\nhis own in the place of Mishosha's, and depending on the darkness of the\nlodge to help him through.\n\nNear daylight, the old magician bestirred himself, as if to rekindle the\nfire; but he slyly reached down a pair of moccasins and leggings with\na stick, and thinking they were no other than those of Owasso's, he\ndropped them into the flames. Then he cast himself down and affected to\nbe lost in a heavy sleep. The leather leggings and moccasins soon drew\nup and were burned.\n\nInstantly jumping up and rubbing his eyes, Misho-sha cried out:\n\n\"Son-in-law, your moccasins are burning; I know it by the smell.\"\n\nOwasso rose up, deliberate and unconcerned.\n\n\"No, my friend,\" said he, \"here are mine,\" at the same time taking them\ndown and drawing them on. \"It is your moccasins that are burning.\"\n\nMishosha dropped his head upon his breast. All his tricks were played\nout--there was not so much as half a one left to help him ont of the\nsorry plight he was in.\n\n\"I believe, my grandfather,\" added Owasso, \"that this is the moon in\nwhich fire attracts, and I fear you must have set your foot and leg\ngarments too near the fire, and they have been drawn in. It is bad that\nyou have none, but let us go forth to the hunt.\"\n\nThe old magician was compelled to follow him, and they pushed out into a\ngreat storm of snow and hail and wind, which had come on over night; and\nneither the wind, the hail, nor the snow had the slightest respect for\nthe bare limbs of the old magician, for there was not the least virtue\nof magic in those parts of old Mishosha's body. After a while they quite\nstiffened under him, his body became hard, and his hair bristled in the\ncold wind; so that he looked more like a tough old sycamore tree than a\nhighly gifted magician. But Owasso, remembering, had no compassion and\nturned away, leaving the wicked old fellow alone to ponder upon his past\nlife.\n\nOwasso himself reached home in safety, proof against all kinds of\nweather, and the magic canoe became the exclusive property of the young\nman and his wife.\n\nNow to go back to the sister who had been left alone with Sheem during\nall these years. She knew enough of the arts of the forest to provide\ntheir daily food and labored with good-will to supply the lodge. She\nwatched her little brother and tended his wants, with all of a good\nsister's care. But at last she began to be weary of solitude and of her\ncharge. No one came to be a witness of her constancy, or to let fall a\nsingle word in her mother-tongue. She could not converse with the birds\nand beasts about her, and felt, to the bottom of her heart, that she\nwas alone. In these thoughts she forgot her younger brother, and almost\nwished him dead; for it was he alone that kept her from seeking the\ncompanionship of others.\n\nSo one day she collected all the provisions she had been able to reserve\nfrom their daily use and brought a supply of wood to the door. Then she\nsaid to her little brother:\n\n\"My brother, you must not stray from the lodge. I am going to seek our\nelder brother. I shall be back soon.\"\n\nShe then set the lodge in perfect order and, taking her bundle, set off\nin search of habitations. These she soon found, and in the enjoyment of\nthe pleasures and pastimes of her new acquaintances, she began to think\nless and less of her little brother, Sheem. At last she accepted\na proposal of marriage, and from that time she utterly forgot the\nabandoned boy.\n\nAs for poor little Sheem, he was soon brought to the pinching turn of\nhis fate. As soon as he had eaten all of the food left in the lodge, he\nwas obliged to pick berries and live off such roots as could be dug with\nhis slender hands. As he wandered about in search of the wherewithal to\nstay his hunger, he often looked up to heaven and saw the gray clouds\ngoing up and down. And then he looked about upon the wide earth, but he\nnever saw his sister or brother returning from their long delay.\n\nAt last, even the roots and berries gave out. They were blighted by the\nfrost or hidden out of reach by the snow, for midwinter had come on,\nand poor little Sheem was obliged to leave the lodge and wander away in\nsearch of food.\n\nSometimes he had to pass the night in the clefts of old trees or in\ncaverns, and to break his fast with the refuse meals of the savage\nwolves.\n\nThese at last became his only resource, and he grew to be so little\nfearful of these animals that he would sit by them while they devoured\ntheir meat, and patiently await his share.\n\nAfter a while, the wolves took to little Sheem very kindly, and seeming\nto understand his outcast condition, they would always leave something\nfor him to eat. By and by they began to talk with him, and to inquire\ninto his history. When he told them that he had been forsaken by his\nbrother and his sister, the wolves turned about to each other, lifted up\ntheir eyes to heaven, and wondered among themselves, with raised paws,\nthat such a thing should have been.\n\nIn this way Sheem lived on till the spring, and as soon as the lake was\nfree from ice, he followed his new friends to the shore.\n\nIt happened on the same day that his elder brother, Owasso, was fishing\nin his magic canoe, a considerable distance out upon the lake. Suddenly\nhe thought he heard the cries of a child upon the shore. He wondered how\nany human creature could exist on so bleak and barren a coast.\n\nHe listened again with all attention, and he heard the cry distinctly\nrepeated; and this time it was the well-known cry of his younger brother\nthat reached his ear. He knew too well the secret of his song, as he\nheard him chaunting mournfully:\n\n\"My brother! My brother! Since you left me going in the canoe, a-hee-ee,\nI am half changed into a wolf, E-wee. I am half changed into a wolf,\nE-wee.\" Owasso made for the shore, and as he approached the lament was\nrepeated. The sounds were very distinct, and the voice of wailing was\nvery sorrowful for Owasso to listen to; and it touched him the more that\nit died away at the close into a long-drawn howl, like that of the wolf.\n\nIn the sand, as he drew closer to the land, he saw the tracks as of an\nanimal fleeing away; and beside these the prints of human hands. But\nwhat were the pity and astonishment that smote Owasso to the heart when\nhe espied his poor little brother--poor little forsaken Sheem--half boy\nand half wolf, flying along the shore!\n\nOwasso immediately leaped upon the ground and strove to catch him in his\narms, saying soothingly, \"My brother! my brother! Come to me.\"\n\nBut the poor wolf-boy avoided his grasp, crying, as he fled, \"Neesia,\nneesia. Since you left me going in the canoe, a-he-ee, I am half changed\ninto a wolf, E-wee. I am half changed into a wolf, E-wee!\" And he howled\nbetween these words of lament.\n\nThe elder brother, sore at heart and feeling all of his brotherly\naffection strongly returning, cried out with renewed anguish, \"My\nbrother! my brother! my brother!\"\n\nBut the nearer he approached to poor Sheem, and the faster Sheem fled,\nthe more rapidly the change from boy to wolf went on; the boy-wolf\nby turns singing and howling, and calling out the name, first of his\nbrother, next of his sister, till the change was complete. Then he\nleaped upon a bank, and looking back, cast upon Owasso a glance of deep\nreproach and grief.\n\n\"I am a wolf!\" he cried and disappeared in the woods.\n\n[Illustration: 0205]\n\n\n\n\nXIII. STRONG DESIRE AND THE RED SORCERER\n\n\n|THERE was a man called Odshedoph, or the Child of Strong Desires, who\nhad a wife and one son. He had withdrawn his family from the village,\nwhere they had spent the winter, to the neighborhood of a distant\nforest, where game abounded. This wood was a day's travel from his\nwinter home, and under its ample shadows the wife fixed the lodge, while\nthe husband went out to hunt. Early in the evening he returned with\na deer, and being weary and athirst, he asked his son, whom he called\nStrong Desire, to go to the river for some water. The son replied that\nit was dark and he was afraid. His father still urged him, saying that\nhis mother as well as himself was tired, and the distance to the water\nvery short. But no persuasion could overcome the young man's reluctance.\nHe refused to go.\n\n\"Ah, my son,\" said the father at last, \"I am ashamed of you. If you are\neven afraid to go to the river, you will never kill the Red Head.\"\n\nThe stripling was deeply vexed by this observation; it seemed to touch\nhim to the very quick. He mused in silence. He refused to eat and made\nno reply when spoken to. He sat by the lodge-door all the night through,\nlooking up at the stars and sighing like one sorely distressed.\n\nThe next day he asked his mother to dress the skin of the deer and to\nmake it into moccasins for him, while he busied himself in preparing a\nbow and arrows.\n\nAs soon as these were in readiness, he left the lodge one morning at\nsunrise, without saying a word to his father or mother. As he passed\nalong, he fired one of his arrows into the air, and it fell westward. He\ntook that course, and coming to the spot where the arrow had fallen, was\nrejoiced to find it piercing the heart of a deer. He refreshed himself\nwith a meal of the venison, and the next morning fired another arrow.\nFollowing its course, after traveling all day he found that he had\ntransfixed another deer. In this manner he fired four arrows, and every\nevening discovered that he had killed a deer.\n\nBy a strange oversight he left the arrows sticking in the carcasses and\npassed on without withdrawing them. Having in this way no arrow for the\nfifth day, he was in great distress at night for the want of food.\n\nAt last he threw himself upon the earth in despair, concluding that\nhe might as well perish there as go farther. But he had not lain long\nbefore he heard a hollow rumbling noise in the ground beneath him, like\nthat of an earthquake moving slowly along.\n\nHe sprang up and discovered at a distance the figure of a human being,\nwalking with a stick. He looked attentively and saw that the figure was\nwalking over the prairie on a wide beaten path that ran from a dusky\nlodge to the waters of a black and turbid lake.\n\nTo his surprise this lodge, which had not been in view when he cast\nhimself upon the ground, was now near at hand. He approached a little\nnearer, concealing himself, and in a moment discovered that the figure\nwas no other than that of the terrible witch, the Little Old Woman Who\nMakes War. Her path to the lake was perfectly smooth and solid, and the\nnoise Strong Desire had heard was caused by the striking of her walking\nstaff upon the ground. The top of this staff was decorated with a string\nof the toes and bills of every kind of bird, and at every stroke of the\nstick these fluttered and sang their various notes in concert:\n\nThe witch entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, which was entirely\ncomposed of the scalps of women. Before folding it, she shook it several\ntimes, and at every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of laughter, in\nwhich the old hag joined. The boy, who now had arrived at the door, was\ngreatly alarmed, but he uttered no cry.\n\nAfter laying by the cloak, the witch came directly to him. Looking at\nhim steadily, she informed him that she had known him from the time he\nhad left his father's lodge, and had watched his movements. She told him\nnot to fear or despair, for she would be his protector and friend. Then\nshe invited him into her lodge and gave him a supper. During the repast\nshe questioned him as to his motives for visiting her. He related his\nstory and stated the manner in which he had been disgraced and the\ndifficulties he labored under.\n\n\"Now tell me truly,\" said the Little Old Woman Who Makes War, \"you were\nafraid to go to the water in the dark.\"\n\n\"I was,\" Strong Desire answered promptly.\n\nAs he replied, the hag waved her staff. The birds set up a clamorous\ncry, and the mantle shook violently as all the scalps burst into a\nhideous shout of laughter.\n\n\"And are you afraid now?\" she asked again.\n\n\"I am,\" again answered Strong Desire without hesitation.\n\n\"But you are not afraid to speak the truth,\" rejoined the little old\nwoman. \"You will be a brave man yet, and to show you that I trust you I\nwill help you kill the Red Head.\"\n\nNow Hah-Nudo-Tah, or the Red Head, was a most powerful sorcerer. Living\nupon an island in the center of his realm of water, he was the terror of\nall the country about. It was the ambition of every Indian youth to be\nthe one finally to overcome him, so Strong Desire was greatly cheered by\nthis assurance of the little old woman's friendship.\n\n\"Do to me as you will,\" he said, \"I will try not to be unworthy of your\nconfidence.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" answered the little old woman, and began at once to exercise\nher power upon him. His hair being very short, she took a great leaden\ncomb, and after she had drawn it through his locks several times, they\nbecame of a handsome length like those of a beautiful young woman.\nShe then proceeded to dress him as a maiden, furnishing him with the\nnecessary garments and tinting his face with colors of the most charming\ndye. She gave him, too, a bowl of shining metal. She directed him to\nput in his girdle a blade of scented sword-grass and to proceed the\nnext morning to the banks of the lake, which was no other than that over\nwhich the Red Head reigned. She then informed him that there would\nbe many Indians upon the island, who, as soon as they saw him use the\nshining bowl to drink with, would come thinking him a woman, to offer\nmarriage. These offers he was to refuse, and to say that he was a maiden\nwho had come a great distance to be the wife of the Red Head, and that\nif the chief could not seek her she would marry no one.\n\n\"Then,\" continued the little old woman, \"as soon as Red Head hears of\nthis he will come for you in his own canoe, in which you must embark. On\nreaching the shore,\" she added, \"you must consent to be his wife; and\nin the evening you are to induce him to take a walk out of the village.\nWhen you have reached a lonesome spot, use the first opportunity to cut\noff his head with the blade of grass.\"\n\nThe little old woman also gave Strong Desire advice about how he was to\nconduct himself to sustain his assumed character of a woman. But by this\ntime his fear was so great that he could hardly consent to engage in\nan adventure attended with so much danger; only the recollection of his\nfather's looks and reproaches for his want of courage decided him.\n\nEarly in the morning he left the lodge of the Little Old Woman Who Makes\nWar, and it was clouded in a heavy brackish fog, so thick and heavy to\nbreathe that he with difficulty made his way forth. When he turned to\nlook hack, the lodge was gone.\n\nThen Strong Desire took the hard beaten path to the banks of the lake\nand made for the water at a point directly opposite the Red Head's\nlodge.\n\nHe had not been long there, sauntering along the beach, when he\ndisplayed the glittering bowl by dipping water from the lake. Very soon\na number of canoes came off from the island. The men admired his dress\nand were charmed with his beauty and almost with one voice they all made\nproposals of marriage. These Strong Desire promptly declined, in the\nmanner of which the little old woman had warned him.\n\nWhen this was reported to Red Head, he ordered his royal bark to be\nlaunched by his chosen men of the oar, and crossed over to see this\nwonderful girl. As they approached the shore, Strong Desire saw that the\nribs of the sorcerer's canoe were formed of living rattlesnakes, whose\nheads pointed outward to guard him from his enemies. Being invited, he\nhad no sooner stepped into the canoe, than they began to hiss and rattle\nfuriously, which put him in a great fright.\n\nHowever this rather added to than detracted from the supposed maiden's\ncharms, and Red Head thought nothing of it, but spoke to the snakes,\nupon which they became pacified and quiet. Shortly afterward the\nboat reached the landing upon the island. The marriage took place\nimmediately; and the bride made presents of various rich gifts which had\nbeen furnished her by the old witch who inhabited the cloudy lodge.\n\nAs they were sitting in the lodge, surrounded by the friends and\nrelatives, the mother of the Red Head regarded the face of her new\ndaughter-in-law for a long time with fixed attention. From this scrutiny\nshe was convinced that this singular and hasty marriage boded no good to\nher son. She drew him aside, and disclosed to him her suspicions.\n\n\"This can be no maiden,\" said she. \"She has the figure and manners of a\nwoman, but the countenance, and more especially the eyes, are beyond a\ndoubt those of a man.\"\n\nThe mother spoke truly, but Red Head rejected her suspicions and rebuked\nher severely for entertaining, such notions of her own daughter-in-law.\nShe still urged her doubts, which so vexed the husband that he broke his\npipe-stem in her face and called her an owl.\n\nThis act astonished the company, who sought an explanation; and it was\nno sooner given than the mock bride, rising with an air of offended\ndignity, informed the Red Head that after receiving so gross an affront\nfrom his relatives she could not think of remaining with him as his\nwife, but should forthwith return to her own friends.\n\nWith a toss of the head, like that of an angry woman, Strong Desire left\nthe lodge and walked away until he came to the beach of the island, near\nthe spot where they had first landed. He was followed by Red Head, who\nentreated him to remain, urging every motive and making all sorts of\nmagnificent promises--none of which seemed to make the least impression.\nStrong Desire was very hard-hearted. During these appeals they had\nseated themselves upon the ground, and Red Head, in great affliction,\nreclined his head upon his fancied wife's lap. Strong Desire now changed\nhis manner, was very kind and soothing, and suggested in the most\nwinning accent that if Red Head would sleep soundly for a while he might\npossibly dream himself out of all his troubles. Red Head, delighted at\nso happy a prospect, said that he would fall asleep immediately.\n\n\"You have killed a good many men in your time, Red Head,\" said Strong\nDesire, by way of suggesting agreeable thoughts to the sorcerer.\n\n\"Hundreds,\" answered Red Head, \"and what is better, now that I am fairly\nsettled in life by this happy marriage, I shall be able to give my whole\nattention to massacre.\"\n\n\"And you will kill hundreds more,\" interposed Strong Desire, in the most\ninsinuating manner imaginable.\n\n\"Just so, my dear,\" Red Head replied, with a great leer, \"thousands.\nThere will be no end to my delicious murders. I love dearly to kill\npeople. I would like to kill you if you were not my wife.\"\n\n\"There, there,\" said Strong Desire, with the coaxing air of a little\ncoquette, \"go to sleep; that's a good Red Head.\"\n\nNo other subject of conversation occurring to the chief, now that he had\nexhausted the delightful topic of wholesale murder, he straightway fell\ninto a deep sleep.\n\nThe chance so anxiously sought for had come; and Strong Desire, with a\nsmiling eye, drawing his blade of grass with lightning swiftness once\nacross the neck of the Red Head, severed the huge and wicked head from\nthe body.\n\nIn a moment, stripping off his woman's dress, underneath which he\nhad all along worn his male attire, Strong Desire seized the bleeding\ntrophy, plunged into the lake, and swam safely over to the main shore.\nHe had scarcely reached it, when, looking back, he saw amid the darkness\nthe torches of persons come out in search of the newly married couple.\nHe listened until they had found the headless body, and he heard their\npiercing shrieks of rage and sorrow as he took his way to the lodge of\nhis kind adviser.\n\nThe Little Old Woman Who Makes War was in an excellent humor, and she\nreceived Strong Desire with rejoicing. She admired his prudence and\nassured him his bravery should never be questioned again. Lifting up the\nhead, which she gazed upon with vast delight, she said he need only have\nbrought the scalp. Cutting off a lock of the hair for herself, she told\nhim he might now return with the head, which would be evidence of an\nachievement that would cause his own people to respect him.\n\n\"On your way home,\" added the little old woman, \"you will meet with\nbut one difficulty. Maunkahkeesh, the Spirit of the Earth, requires an\noffering or sacrifice from all of her sons who perform extraordinary\ndeeds. As you walk along in a prairie there will be an earthquake;\nthe earth will open and divide the prairie in the middle. Take this\npartridge and throw it into the opening, and instantly spring over it.\"\n\nWith many thanks to the little old witch, who had so faithfully\nbefriended him, Strong Desire took his leave. Doing as she said he\nsafely passed the earthquake, and in due time arrived near his own\nvillage. Then he secretly hid his precious trophy.\n\nOn entering the village, he found that his parents had returned from the\nplace of their spring encampment by the wood-side, and that they were\nin heavy sorrowing for their son, whom they supposed to be lost. One\nand another of the young men had presented himself to the disconsolate\nparents and said, \"Look up, I am your son,\" but when they looked up,\nthey beheld not the familiar face of Strong Desire.\n\nHaving been often deceived in this manner, when their own son in truth\npresented himself, they sat with their heads down and their eyes nearly\nblinded with weeping. It was some time before they could be prevailed\nupon to bestow a glance upon him. It was still longer before they could\nrecognize him as Strong Desire, who had feared to draw water from the\nriver at night. This youth's countenance was no longer that of a timid\nstripling; it was the face of a man who has seen and done great things,\nand who has the heart to do greater still.\n\nWhen he recounted his adventures they believed him mad. The young men\nlaughed at him--him, Strong Desire--who feared to walk to the river at\nnight-time.\n\nHe left the lodge, and before their laughter had ceased, returned with\nhis trophy. He held aloft the head of the Red Sorcerer, still leering,\nat prospect of a thousand future murders. It was easily recognized, and\nthe young men who had scoffed at Strong Desire shrank into the corners\nout of sight. Strong Desire had conquered the terrible Red Head! All\ndoubts of the truth of his adventures were dispelled.\n\nHe was greeted with joy and placed among the first warriors of the\nnation. He finally became a chief, and his family were ever after\nrespected and esteemed.\n\n\n\n\nXIV. THE MAGIC PACKET\n\n\n|A POOR man, called Iena, or the Wanderer, was in the habit of roaming\nabout from place to place, forlorn, without relations, and almost\nhelpless. He had often wished for a companion to share his solitude; but\nwho would think of joining his fortunes with those of a poor wanderer,\nwho had no shelter in the world but such as his leather hunting-shirt\nprovided, and no other household than the packet in which his\nhunting-shirt was laid away?\n\nOne day Iena hung up his packet on the branch of a tree, and then set\nout in quest of game.\n\nOn returning to the spot in the evening, he was surprised to find a\nsmall but neat lodge built in the place where he had left his packet;\nand on looking in he beheld a beautiful maiden sitting on the further\nside of the lodge, with his packet lying beside her.\n\nDuring the day Iena had so far prospered in his sport as to kill a deer,\nwhich he now cast down at the lodge-door.\n\nThe maiden did not pause to take the least notice of the hunter, or to\ngive him a word of welcome, but ran out to see whether it was a large\ndeer that he had brought. In her haste she stumbled and fell at the\nthreshold.\n\nIena looked at her with astonishment, and thought to himself, \"I\nsupposed I was blessed, but I find my mistake. Night-Hawk,\" said he,\nspeaking aloud, \"I will leave my game with you that you may feast on\nit.\"\n\nHe then took up his packet and departed. After walking some time he came\nto another tree, on which he suspended his packet, as before, and the\nfollowing morning went for the second time in search of game.\n\nSuccess again attended him, and he returned, bringing with him a deer.\nHe found that a lodge had sprung up as before, just where he had hung\nhis packet. He looked in and saw a beautiful maiden sitting alone, with\nhis packet by her side.\n\nShe arose and came out toward the deer which he had deposited at the\ndoor, and he immediately went into the lodge and sat by the fire, as he\nwas weary with the day's hunt, which had carried him far away.\n\nThe woman did not return, and wondering at her delay, Iena at last\narose, peeped through the door of the lodge and beheld her greedily\neating all the fat of the deer. He exclaimed:\n\n\"I thought I was blessed, but I find I was mistaken.\" Then addressing\nthe woman, \"Poor Marten,\" said he, \"feast on the game I have brought.\"\n\nHe again took up his packet and departed. Then finding a tree, he hung\nit upon a branch, and the next morning again wandered off in quest of\ngame.\n\nIn the evening he returned, with his customary good luck, bringing in\na fine deer, and again found that a lodge had taken the place of his\npacket. He gazed through an opening in the side of the lodge, and there\nwas another beautiful woman sitting alone, with his packet by her side.\n\n\"Oh!\" he exclaimed, \"it is the same as it was yesterday and the day\nbefore that. I am Iena, the Wanderer, and it is not the will of the\nGreat Spirit that he should have a lodge, a woman, or the fat of the\ndeer that he kills.\"\n\nSo saying he entered the lodge, but the woman rose cheerfully, welcomed\nhim home, and without delay or complaining brought in the deer, cut it\nup as it should be, and hung up the meat to dry. She then prepared a\nportion of it for the supper of the weary hunter, who was thinking to\nhimself, \"Now I am certainly blessed.\"\n\nAnd so it went on. He continued his practise of hunting every day, and\nthe woman, on his return, always welcomed him, readily took charge of\nthe meat, and promptly prepared his evening meal; and he ever after\nlived a contented and happy man.\n\n\n\n\nXV. THE MAN WITH HIS LEG TIED UP\n\n\n|AS a punishment for having once upon a time used that foot against\na venerable medicine man, Aggo Dah Gauda had one leg looped up to\nhis thigh, so that he was obliged to get along by hopping. By dint of\npractise he had become very skilful in this exercise, and he could make\nleaps which seemed almost incredible.\n\nAggo had a beautiful daughter, and his chief care was to secure her from\nbeing carried off by the king of the buffalos, who was the ruler of all\nthe herds of that kind, and had them entirely at his command to make\nthem do as he willed.\n\nDah Gauda, too, was quite an important person in his own way, for he\nlived in great state, having a log house of his own and a court-yard\nwhich extended from the sill of his front-door as many hundred miles\nwestward as he chose to measure it.\n\nAlthough he might claim this extensive privilege of ground, he advised\nhis daughter to keep within doors, and by no means to go far in the\nneighborhood. Otherwise she would be sure to be stolen away, as he was\nsatisfied that the buffalo-king spent night and day lurking about, lying\nin wait to seize her.\n\nOne sunshiny morning, when there were just two or three promising clouds\nrolling moistly about the sky, Aggo prepared to go out a-fishing; but\nbefore he left the lodge he reminded her of her strange and industrious\nlover, whom she had never seen.\n\n\"My daughter,\" said he, \"I am going out to fish, and as the day will be\na pleasant one, you must recollect that we have an enemy near, who is\nconstantly going about with two eyes that never close. Do not expose\nyourself out of the lodge.\"\n\nWith this excellent advice, Aggo hopped off in high spirits. But he had\nscarcely reached the fishing-ground, when he heard a voice singing at a\ndistance:=\n\n```Man with the leg tied up,\n\n```Man with the leg tied up,\n\n````Broken hip--hip--\n\n`````Hipped.\n\n```Man with the leg tied up,\n\n```Man with the leg tied up,\n\n````Broken leg--leg--\n\n`````Legged.=\n\nThere was no one in sight, but Aggo heard the words quite plainly, and\nas he suspected the ditty to be the work of his enemies, the buffalos,\nhe hopped home as fast as his one leg could carry him.\n\nMeantime, the daughter had no sooner been left alone in the lodge than\nshe thought to herself:\n\n\"It is hard to be thus forever kept in doors. But my father says it\nwould be dangerous to venture abroad. I know what I will do. I will get\non the top of the house, and there I can comb and dress my hair, and no\none can harm me.\"\n\nShe accordingly ascended the roof and busied herself in untying and\ncombing her beautiful hair; for it was truly beautiful, not only of a\nfine, glossy quality, but so very long that it hung over the eaves of\nthe house and reached down to the ground, as she sat dressing it.\n\nShe was wholly occupied in this employment, without a thought of danger,\nwhen all of a sudden the king of the buffalos came dashing up with his\nherd of followers. Making sure of her by means of her drooping tresses,\nhe placed her upon the back of one of his favorite buffalos, and away he\ncantered over the plains. Plunging into a river that bounded his land,\nhe bore her safely to his lodge on the other side.\n\nAnd now the buffalo-king, having secured the beautiful person of Aggo\nDah Gauda's daughter, set to work to make her heart his own--a little\nceremony which it would have been, perhaps, wiser for his majesty, the\nking of the buffalos, to have attended to before he carried her off, for\nhe now worked to little purpose. Although he labored with great zeal to\ngain her affections, she sat pensive and disconsolate in the lodge among\nthe other women. She scarcely ever spoke, nor did she take the least\ninterest in the affairs of the king's household.\n\nTo the king himself she paid no heed, and although he breathed forth\nto her every soft and gentle word he could think of, she sat still and\nmotionless, for all the world like one of the lowly bushes by the door\nof her father's lodge when the summer wind had died away.\n\nThe king enjoined it upon the others in the lodge as a special edict,\non pain of instant death, to give to Aggo's daughter everything that she\nwanted, and to be careful not to displease her. They set before her the\nchoicest food. They gave her the seat of honor in the lodge. The king\nhimself went out hunting to obtain the most dainty meats, both of\nanimals and wild fowl, to pleasure her palate; and he treated her every\nmorning to a ride upon one of the royal buffalos, who was so gentle in\nhis motions as not even to disturb a single one of the tresses of the\nbeautiful hair of Aggo's daughter as she paced along.\n\nAnd not content with these proofs of his attachment, the king would\nsometimes fast from all food, and having thus purified his spirit and\ncleared his voice, he would take his Indian flute, sit before the lodge,\nand give vent to his feelings in pensive echoes, something after this\nfashion:=\n\n````My sweetheart,\n\n````My sweetheart,\n\n`````Ah me!\n\n````When I think of you,\n\n````When I think of you,\n\n`````Ah me!\n\n````What can I do, do, do?=\n\n````How I love you,\n\n````How I love you,\n\n`````Ah me!\n\n````Do not hate me,\n\n````Do not hate me,\n\n`````Ah me!\n\n````Speak--e'en berate me.\n\n````When I think of you,\n\n`````Ah me!\n\n````What can I do, do, do?=\n\nIn the meantime, Aggo Dali Gauda reached home, and finding that his\ndaughter had been stolen, was so thoroughly aroused that he would have\nforthwith torn every hair from his head in indignation, had he not been\nentirely bald. This relief being out of the question, Aggo hopped\noff half a mile in every direction as an easy and natural vent to his\nfeelings. First he hopped east, then he hopped west, next he hopped\nnorth, and again he hopped south, all in search of his daughter; till\nthe one leg was fairly tired out. Then he sat down in his lodge, and\nresting himself a little, reflected. After that he vowed that his\nsingle leg should never know rest again until he had found his beautiful\ndaughter and brought her home. For this purpose he immediately set out.\n\nNow that he proceeded more coolly, he could easily track the\nbuffalo-king until he came to the banks of the river, where he saw that\nhe had plunged in and swum over. There having been a frosty night or\ntwo since, the water was so covered with thin ice that Aggo could not\nventure upon it, even with one leg. So he encamped hard by till it\nbecame more solid, and then crossed over and pursued the trail.\n\nAs he went along he saw branches broken off and strewed behind, which\nguided him in his course; for these had been purposely cast along by the\ndaughter. And the manner in which she had accomplished it was this. Her\nhair was all untied when she was caught up, and being very long it took\nhold of the branches as they darted along, and it was these twigs that\nshe broke off as signs to her father.\n\nWhen Aggo came to the king's lodge it was evening. Carefully\napproaching, he peeped through the sides, and saw his daughter sitting\ndisconsolate. She immediately caught his eye, and knowing that it was\nher father come for her, she all at once appeared to relent in her\nheart. Asking for the royal dipper, she said to the king:\n\n\"I will go and get you a drink of water.\"\n\nThis token of submission delighted his majesty, and, high in hope, he\nwaited with impatience for her return.\n\nSome time passed and at last he went out; but nothing could be seen or\nheard of the captive daughter. Then calling together his followers, he\nsallied forth with them upon the plains. They had not gone far when they\nespied by the light of the moon, which was shining roundly just over the\nedge of the prairie, Aggo Dali Gauda, his daughter in his arms, making\nall speed with his one leg toward the west.\n\nThe buffalo, set on by their king, raised a great shout and scampered\noff in pursuit. They thought to overtake Aggo in less than no time; but\nalthough he had a single leg only, it was in such fine condition to go,\nthat to every pace of theirs he hopped the length of a cedar-tree.\n\nBut the buffalo-king was well assured that he would be able to overtake\nAggo, hop as briskly as he might. It would be a mortal shame, thought\nthe king, to be outstripped by a man with one leg tied up; so, shouting\nand cheering and issuing orders on all sides, he set the swiftest of his\nherd upon the track, with strict commands to take Aggo dead or alive.\nAnd a curious sight it was to see.\n\nAt one time a buffalo would gain handsomely upon Aggo, and be just\nat the point of laying hold of him, when off Aggo would hop, a good\nfurlong, in an oblique line, wide out of his reach; which bringing him\nnearly in contact with another of the herd, away he would go again, just\nas far off in another direction.\n\nAnd in this way Aggo kept the whole company of the buffalos zigzagging\nacross the plain, with the poor king at their head, running to and fro,\nshouting among them and hurrying them about in the wildest way. It was\nan extraordinary road that Aggo was taking toward home; and after a time\nit so puzzled and bewildered the buffalos that they were driven half out\nof their wits, and they roared and brandished their tails and foamed, as\nif they would put out of countenance and frighten out of sight the old\nman in the moon, who was looking on all the time, just above the edge of\nthe prairie.\n\nAs for the king himself, he lost all patience at last at the absurd\nidea of chasing a man with one leg all night long, so calling his herd\ntogether, he fled in disgust toward the west, and never more appeared in\nall that part of the country.\n\nAggo, relieved of his pursuers, hopped off a hundred steps in one, till\nhe reached the stream, crossed it in a twinkling of the eye, and bore\nhis daughter in triumph to his lodge.\n\nIn the course of time Aggo's beautiful daughter married a very worthy\nyoung warrior, who was neither a buffalo-king nor so much as the owner\nof any more of the buffalos than a splendid skin robe which he wore,\nwith great effect, thrown over his shoulders, on his wedding-day. On\nwhich occasion, Aggo Dah Gauda hopped about on his one leg livelier than\never.\n\n\n\n\nXVI. LEELINAU, THE LOST DAUGHTER\n\n\n|LEELINAU was the favorite daughter of a hunter, who lived on the lake\nshore near the base of the lofty highlands called Kang Wudjoo.\n\nFrom her earliest youth Leelinau was observed to be thoughtful and\nretiring. She passed much of her time in solitude and seemed ever\nto prefer the companionship of her own shadow to the society of the\nlodge-circle.\n\nWhenever she could leave her father's lodge she would fly to remote\nhaunts and recesses in the woods, or sit in lonely reverie upon some\nhigh promontory of rock overlooking the lake. In such places she would\noften linger long, with her face turned upward, in contemplation of the\nair, as if she were invoking her guardian spirit and beseeching him to\nlighten her sadness.\n\nBut of all the leafy haunts, none drew her steps toward it so often as a\nforest of pines on the open shore, called Manitowok, or the Sacred Wood.\nIt was one of those hallowed places which is the resort of the little\nwild men of the woods, and of the turtle spirits or fairies which\ndelight in romantic scenes.\n\nOwing to this circumstance, its green retirement was seldom visited\nby Indians, who feared to fall under the influence of its mischievous\ninhabitants. Whenever they were compelled by stress of weather to make\na landing on this part of the coast, they never failed to leave an\noffering of tobacco or some other token, to show that they desired to\nstand well with the proprietors of the fairy ground.\n\nTo this sacred spot Leelinau had made her way at an early age, gathering\nstrange flowers and plants, which she would bring home to her parents,\nand relating to them all the haps and mishaps that had occurred in her\nrambles.\n\nAlthough they discountenanced her frequent visits to the place, they\nwere not able to restrain them, for she was of so gentle and delicate a\ntemper that they feared to thwart her.\n\nHer attachment to the fairy wood, therefore, grew with her years. If she\nwished to solicit her guardian spirits to procure pleasant dreams,\nor any other maiden favor, Leelinau repaired to the Manitowok. If her\nfather remained abroad in the hunt later than usual, and it was feared\nthat he had been overwhelmed by the tempest or had met with some other\nmischance, Leelinau offered up her prayers for safety at the Manitowok.\nIt was there that she fasted, mused, and strolled.\n\nShe at length became so engrossed by the fairy pines that her parents\nbegan to suspect that some evil spirit had enticed her to its haunts and\nhad cast upon her a charm which she had not the power to resist.\n\nThis belief was confirmed when, one day, her mother, who had secretly\nfollowed her, overheard her murmuring to some unknown and invisible\ncompanion, appeals like these:\n\n\"Spirit of the dancing leaves!\" whispered Leelinau, \"hear a throbbing\nheart in its sadness. Spirit of the foaming stream! visit thou my\nnightly pillow, shedding over it silver dreams of mountain brook and\npebbly rivulet. Spirit of the starry night! lead my foot-prints to the\nblushing mis-kodeed, or where the burning passion-flower shines with\ncarmine hue. Spirit of the greenwood plume!\" she concluded, turning with\npassionate gaze to the beautiful young pines which stood waving their\ngreen beauty over her head, \"shed on me, on Leelinau the sad, thy leafy\nfragrance, such as spring unfolds from sweetest flowers, or hearts\nthat to each other show their inmost grief. Spirits! hear, oh, hear a\nmaiden's prayer!\"\n\nDay by day these strange communings with unseen beings drew away the\nheart of Leelinau more and more from the simple duties of the lodge, and\nshe walked among her people, melancholy and silent, like a spirit who\nhad visited them from another land.\n\nThe pastimes which engaged the frolic moments of her young companions\npassed by her as little trivial pageants in which she had no concern.\n\nWhen the girls of the neighboring lodges assembled to play before the\nlodge-door at the favorite game of pappus-e-kowaun, or the block and\nstring, Leelinan would sit vacantly by, or enter so feebly into the\nspirit of the play as to show that it was irksome to her.\n\nAgain, in the evening, when the young people formed a ring around the\nlodge, and the piepeendjigun, or leather and bone, passed rapidly from\none to the other, she either handed it along without attempting to play,\nor if she took a part, it was with no effort to succeed.\n\nThe time of the corn-gathering had come, and the young people of the\ntribe were assembled in the field, busy in plucking the ripened maize.\nOne of the girls, noted for her beauty, had found a red ear, and\nevery one congratulated her that a brave admirer was on his way to her\nfather's lodge. She blushed, and hiding the trophy in her bosom, thanked\nthe Good Spirit that it was a red ear, and not a crooked, that she had\nfound.\n\nPresently it chanced that one who was there among the young men espied\nin the hands of Leelinau, who had plucked it indifferently, one of\nthe crooked kind, and at once the word \"Wa-ge-min!\" was shouted aloud\nthrough the field, and the whole circle was set in a roar.\n\n\"The thief is in the corn-field!\" exclaimed the young man, Iagoo by\nname, and famous in the tribe for his mirthful powers of story-telling;\n\"see you not the old man stooping as he enters the field? See you not\nsigns that he crouched as he crept in the dark? Is it not plain by this\nmark on the stalk that he was heavily bent in his hack? Old man! be\nnimble, or some one will take thee while thou art taking the ear.\"\n\nThese questions Iagoo accompanied with the action of one bowed with age\nstealthily entering' the cornfield. He went on:\n\n\"See how he stoops as he breaks off the ear. Nushka! He seems for a\nmoment to tremble. Walker, be nimble! Hooli! It is plain the old man is\nthe thief.\"\n\nHe turned suddenly where she sat in the circle, pensively regarding the\ncrooked ear which she held in her hand, and exclaimed:\n\n\"Leelinau, the old man is thine!\"\n\nLaughter rang merrily through the corn-field, but Leelinau, casting down\nupon the ground the crooked ear of maize, walked pensively away.\n\nThe next morning the eldest son of a neighboring chief called at her\nfather's lodge. He was quite advanced in years; but he enjoyed such\nrenown in battle, and his name was so famous in the hunt, that the\nparents accepted him as a suitor for their daughter. They hoped that\nhis shining qualities would draw back the thoughts of Leelinau from that\nspirit-land whither she seemed to have wholly directed her affections.\n\nIt was this chief's son whom Iagoo had pictured as the corn-taker, but,\nwithout objecting to his age or giving any other reason, Leelinau\nfirmly declined his proposals. The parents ascribed the young daughter's\nhesitancy to maiden shyness, and paying no further heed to her refusal,\nfixed a day for the marriage-visit to the lodge.\n\nThe young warrior came to the lodge-door, and Leelinau refused to see\nhim, informing her parents, at the same time, that she would never\nconsent to the match.\n\nIt had been her custom to pass many of her hours in her favorite place\nof retirement under a broad-topped young pine, whose leaves whispered in\nevery wind that blew; but most of all in that gentle murmur of the air\nat the evening hour, dear to lovers, when the twilight steals on.\n\nThither she now repaired, and, while reclining pensively against the\nyoung pine-tree, she fancied that she heard a voice addressing her. At\nfirst it was scarcely more than a sigh; presently it grew more clear,\nand she heard it distinctly whisper--\n\n\"Maiden! think me not a tree; but thine own dear lover; fond to be with\nthee in my tall and blooming strength, with the bright green nodding\nplume that waves above thee. Thou art leaning on my breast, Leelinau;\nlean forever there and be at peace. Fly from men who are false and\ncruel, and quit the tumult of their dusty strife for this quiet, lonely\nshade. Over thee I will fling my arms, fairer than the lodge's roof. I\nwill breathe a perfume like that of flowers over thy happy evening rest.\nIn my bark canoe I'll waft thee over the waters of the sky-bine lake.\nI will deck the folds of thy mantle with the sun's last rays. Come and\nwander with me on the mountains, a fairy free!\"\n\nLeelinau drank in with eager ear these magical words. Her heart was\nfixed. No warrior's son should clasp her hand. She listened in the hope\nto hear the airy voice speak more; but it only repeated, \"Again! again!\"\nand entirely ceased.\n\nOn the eve of the day fixed for her marriage, Leelinau decked herself in\nher best garments. She arranged her hair according to the fashion of her\ntribe and put on all of her maiden ornaments in beautiful array. With a\nsmile, she presented herself before her parents.\n\n\"I am going,\" she said, \"to meet my little lover, the Chieftain of the\nGreen Plume, who is waiting for me at the Spirit Grove.\"\n\nHer face was radiant with joy, and the parents, taking what she had\nsaid as her own fanciful way of expressing acquiescence in their plans,\nwished her good fortune in the happy meeting.\n\n\"I am going,\" she continued, addressing her mother as they left the\nlodge, \"I am going from one who has watched my infancy and guarded my\nyouth; who has given me medicine when I was sick and prepared my food\nwhen I was well. I am going from a father who has ranged the forest to\nprocure the choicest skins for my dress and kept his lodge supplied with\nthe best spoil of the chase. I am going from a lodge which has been\nmy shelter from the storms of winter and my shield from the heats of\nsummer. Farewell, my parents, farewell!\"\n\nSo saying, she sped faster than any could follow her to the margin of\nthe fairy wood, and in a moment was lost to sight.\n\nAs she had often thus withdrawn herself from the lodge, the parents were\nnot in fear but confidently awaited her return. Hour chased hour, as\nthe clouds of evening rolled up in the west; darkness came on, but no\ndaughter returned. With torches they hastened to the wood, but although\nthey lit up every dark recess and leafy gloom, their search was in vain.\nLeelinau was nowhere to be seen. They called aloud, in lament, upon her\nname, but she answered not.\n\nSuns rose and set, but nevermore in their light did the bereaved\nparents' eyes behold the lost form of their beloved child. Their\ndaughter was lost indeed. Whither she had vanished no mortal tongue\ncould tell; although it chanced that a company of fishermen, who were\nspearing fish near the Spirit Grove, descried something that seemed to\nresemble a maiden's figure standing on the shore. As the evening was\nmild and the waters calm, they cautiously pulled their canoe toward\nland, but the slight ripple of their oars excited alarm. The figure\nfled in haste, but they could recognise in the shape and dress as she\nascended the hank, the lost daughter, and they saw the green plumes of\nher fairy-lover waving over his forehead as he glided lightly through\nthe forest of young pines.\n\n[Illustration: 0236]\n\n\n\n\nXVII. THE WINTER SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR\n\n\n|AN old man was sitting alone in his lodge by the side of a frozen\nstream. It was the close of winter, and his fire was almost ont. He\nappeared very old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and\nhe trembled in every joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he\nheard nothing but the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the\nnew-fallen snow.\n\nOne day as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached and\nentered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth; his\neyes sparkled with life; and a smile played upon his lips. He walked\nwith a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a wreath of\nsweet grass, in place of the warrior's frontlet, and he carried a bunch\nof flowers in his hand.\n\n\"Ah! my son,\" said the old man, \"I am happy to see you. Come in. Come,\ntell me of your adventures, and what strange lands you have been to\nsee. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and\nexploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we will\namuse ourselves.\"\n\nHe then drew from his sack a curiously wrought antique pipe, and having\nfilled it with tobacco rendered mild by an admixture of certain dried\nleaves, he handed it to his guest. \"When this ceremony was attended to,\nthey began to speak.\n\n\"I blow my breath,\" said the old man, \"and the streams stand still. The\nwater becomes stiff and hard as clear stone.\"\n\n\"I breathe,\" said the young man, \"and flowers spring up all over the\nplains.\"\n\n\"I shake my locks,\" retorted the old man, \"and snow covers the land. The\nleaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them away.\nThe birds rise from the water and fly to a distant land. The animals\nhide themselves from the glance of my eye, and the very ground where I\nwalk becomes as hard as flint.\"\n\n\"I shake my ringlets,\" rejoined the young man, \"and warm showers of\nsoft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of\nthe ground like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice\nrecalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music\nfills the groves wherever I walk, and all nature welcomes my approach.\"\n\nAt length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place.\nThe tongue of the old man became silent. The robin and the blue-bird\nbegan to sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the\ndoor, and the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the\nbreeze.\n\nWINTER SPIRIT AND HIS VISITOR\n\nDaylight fully revealed to the young man the character of his\nentertainer. When he looked upon him he saw the visage of Peboan, the\nicy old Winter-Spirit. Streams began to flow from the old man's eyes. As\nthe sun increased he grew less and less in stature, and presently he had\nmelted completely away. Nothing remained on the place of his lodge-fire\nbut the mis-kodeed, a small white flower with a pink border, which the\nyoung visitor, Seegwun, the Spirit of Spring, placed in the wreath upon\nhis brow, as his first trophy in the North.\n\n[Illustration: 0239]\n\n\n\n\nXVIII. THE ENCHANTED MOCCASINS\n\n\n|A LONG, long time ago, a little boy was living with his sister entirely\nalone in an uninhabited country far out in the north-west. He was\ncalled the Boy That Carries the Ball on his Back, from an idea that he\npossessed magical powers. This boy was in the habit of meditating alone\nand asking within himself whether there were other beings similar to\nhimself and his sister on the earth.\n\nWhen he grew up to manhood, he inquired of his sister whether she knew\nof any human beings besides themselves. She replied that she did; and\nthat there was, at a great distance, a large village.\n\nAs soon as he heard this, he said to his sister:\n\n\"I am now a young man and very much in want of a companion.\"\n\nHe asked his sister to make him several pairs of moccasins. She complied\nwith his request; and as soon as he received the moccasins, he took up\nhis war-club and set out in quest of the distant village.\n\nHe traveled on till he came to a small wigwam, in which he discovered\na very old woman sitting alone by the fire. As soon as she saw the\nstranger, she invited him in, and thus addressed him:\n\n\"My poor grandchild, I suppose you are one of those who seek for the\ndistant village, from which no person has ever yet returned. Unless\nyour guardian is more powerful than the guardians of those who have\ngone before you, you will share a similar fate to theirs. Be careful\nto provide yourself with the invisible bones those people use in the\nmedicine-dance, for without these you cannot succeed.\" After she had\nthus spoken, she gave him the following directions for his journey:\n\n\"When you come near to the village which you seek, you will see in the\ncenter a large lodge, in which the chief of the village, who has two\ndaughters, resides. Before the door there is a great tree, which is\nsmooth and without bark. On this tree, about the height of a man from\nthe ground, is hung a small lodge, in which these two false daughters\ndwell. It is here that so many have been destroyed, and among them your\ntwo elder brothers. Be wise, my grandchild, and abide strictly by my\ndirections.\"\n\nThe old woman then gave to the young man the bones which were to secure\nhis success; and she informed him with great care how he was to proceed.\n\nPlacing them in his bosom, Onwee Bahmondang, or The Wearer of the\nBall, continued his journey and kept eagerly on until he arrived at the\nvillage of which he was in search. Here, on gazing around, he saw both\nthe tree and the lodge which the old woman had mentioned.\n\nHe at once bent his steps toward the tree, and approaching, endeavored\nto reach the suspended lodge. But all his efforts were in vain; for as\noften as he attempted to reach it, the tree began to tremble, and it\nsoon shot up so that the lodge could hardly be perceived.\n\nHe bethought him of his guardian spirit, so invoking his aid and\nchanging himself into a squirrel, he mounted nimbly up again, in the\nhope that the lodge would not now escape him. But to his disappointment\naway shot the lodge, climb as briskly as he might.\n\nPanting and out of breath, he at last remembered the instructions of the\nold woman. Drawing from his bosom one of the bones, he thrust it into\nthe trunk of the tree and rested himself upon it to be ready to start\nagain.\n\nAs often as he wearied of climbing, for even a squirrel cannot climb\nforever, he repeated the little ceremony of the bones; but whenever he\ncame near the lodge and put forth his hand to touch it, the tree would\nshoot up as before and carry the lodge up far beyond his reach.\n\nAt length the bones being all gone, and the lodge well-nigh out of\nsight, he began to despair, for the earth, too, had long since vanished\nentirely from his view.\n\nSummoning his whole heart, he resolved to try once more. On and up he\nwent, but as soon as he put forth his hand to touch it, the tree again\nshook, and away went the lodge.\n\nOne more endeavor, brave Onwee, and in he goes; for having now reached\nthe arch of heaven, the flyaway lodge could go no higher.\n\nOnwee entered with a fearless step and beheld the two wicked sisters\nsitting opposite each other. He asked their names. The one on his left\nhand called herself Azhabee, and the one on the right, Negahna-bee.\n\nAfter talking with them a little while, he discovered that whenever he\naddressed the one on his left hand, the tree would tremble as before and\nsettle down to its former place; but when he addressed the one on his\nright hand, it would again shoot upward.\n\nWhen he thus perceived that by addressing the one on his left hand the\ntree would descend, he continued to do so until it had again settled\ndown to its place near the earth. Then seizing his war-club, he said to\nthe sisters:\n\n\"You who have caused the death of so many of my brethren I will now put\nan end to, and thus have revenge for those you have destroyed.\"\n\nAs he spoke this he raised the club and with one blow laid the two\nwicked women dead at his feet.\n\nOnwee then descended, and learned that these sisters had a brother\nliving with their father, who had shared in the spoils of all such as\nthe wicked sisters had betrayed. This youth would now pursue him for\nhaving put an end to their wicked profits, so Onwee set off at random,\nnot knowing whither he went.\n\nThe father, coming in the evening to visit the lodge of his daughters,\ndiscovered what had happened. He immediately sent word to his son that\nthe sisters had been slain, and that there were no more spoils to be\nhad. Now this news greatly inflamed the brother's temper, especially the\nwoful announcement at the end. He was chafing and half beside himself\nwith rage.\n\n\"Oh,\" he cried. \"The person who has done this must be that Boy That\nCarries the Ball on his Back. I know his mode of going about his\nbusiness, and since he would not allow himself to be killed by my\nsisters, he shall have the honor of dying by my hand. I will pursue him\nand have revenge.\"\n\n\"It is well, my son,\" replied the father; \"the spirit of your life\ngrant you success. But I counsel you to be wary in the pursuit. Onwee\nBahmondang is a cunning youth. It is a strong spirit who has put him on\nto do this injury to us, and he will try to deceive you in every way.\nAbove all, avoid tasting food till you succeed; for if you break your\nfast before you see his blood, your power will be destroyed.\"\n\nThe son took this fatherly advice all in good part, except that portion\nwhich enjoined upon him to abstain from staying his stomach; over that\ncommand he made a number of wry faces, for the brother of the two\nwicked sisters had, among numerous noble gifts, a very noble appetite.\nNevertheless, he took up his weapons and departed at the top of his\nspeed in pursuit of Onwee Bahmondang.\n\nOnwee, finding that he was closely followed, climbed up into one of the\ntallest sycamore-trees and shot forth the magic arrows with which he had\nprovided himself.\n\nSeeing that his pursuer was not turned back by his arrows, Onwee renewed\nhis flight; and when he found himself hard pressed and his enemy close\nbehind him, he transformed himself into the skeleton of a moose that had\nbeen killed many moons before. He then remembered the moccasins which\nhis sister had given him, and taking a pair of them, he placed them near\nthe skeleton.\n\n\"Go,\" said he to them, \"to the end of the earth.\"\n\nThe moccasins then left him, and their tracks remained.\n\nThe angry brother at length came to the skeleton of the moose. When he\nperceived that the track he had been long pursuing did not stop there,\nhe continued to follow it up till he arrived at the end of the earth,\nwhere, for all his trouble, he found only a pair of moccasins.\n\nVexed that he had been outwitted by following a pair of moccasins\ninstead of their owner, he complained bitterly, resolving not to give up\nhis revenge and to be more wary in the future.\n\nHe then called to mind the skeleton he had met with on his way, and\nconcluded that it must be the object of his search.\n\nSo the brother retraced his steps toward the skeleton, but to his\nsurprise it had disappeared, and the tracks of the Wearer of the Ball\nwere in another direction. He now became faint with hunger, and lost\nheart; but when he remembered the blood of his sisters, and that he\nshould not be allowed to enjoy a meal, or so much as a mouthful, until\nhe had put an end to Onwee Bahmondang, he plucked up his spirits and\ndetermined again to pursue.\n\nOnwee, finding that he was closely followed and that the hungry brother\nwas approaching very fast, changed himself into a very old man, with\ntwo daughters. They lived in a large lodge in the center of a beautiful\ngarden, which was filled with everything that could delight the eye or\nwas pleasant to the taste. He made himself appear so very old as to be\nunable to leave his lodge and to require his daughters to bring him food\nand wait on him, as though he had been a mere child. The garden also had\nthe appearance of old age, with its ancient bushes and hanging branches\nand decrepit vines loitering lazily about in the sun.\n\nMeanwhile the brother kept on until he was nearly starved and ready to\nsink to the earth. He exclaimed, with a long-drawn and most mournful\nsigh:\n\n\"Oh! I will forget the blood of my sisters, for I am starving. Oh! oh!\"\n\nBut again he thought of the blood of his sisters, and what a fine\nappetite he would have if he should ever be allowed to eat anything\nagain, and once more he resolved to pursue and to be content with\nnothing short of the amplest revenge.\n\nHe pushed on till he came to the beautiful garden. He advanced toward\nthe lodge.\n\nAs soon as the fairy daughters perceived him, they ran and told their\nfather that a stranger approached.\n\nTheir father replied, \"Invite him in, my children, invite him in.\"\n\nThey did so promptly, and, by the command of their father, they boiled\nsome corn and prepared several other palatable dishes. The savor was\nmost delicious to the nostrils of the hungry brother, who had not the\nleast suspicion of the sport that was going on at his expense.\n\nHe was faint and weary with travel, and he felt that he could endure\nfasting no longer; for his appetite was terribly inflamed by the sight\nof the choice food that was steaming before him.\n\nHe fell to and partook heartily of the meal; and by so doing he was\novercome and lost his right of revenge. All at once he forgot the blood\nof his sisters, and even the village of his nativity; he also forgot his\nfather's lodge, and his whole past life. He ate so keenly, and came\nand went to the choice dishes so often, that drowsiness at length\noverpowered him, and he soon fell into a profound sleep.\n\nOnwee Bahmondang watched his opportunity, and as soon as he saw that the\nfalse brother's sleep was sound, he resumed his youthful form and\nsent off the two fairy daughters and the old garden. Then drawing the\nmagic-ball from his back, and turning it into a great war-club, he\nfetched the slumbering brother a mighty blow, which sent him away too.\nAnd thus did Onwee Bahmondang vindicate his title as The Wearer of the\nBall.\n\nSuch was the great force and weight of the club with which he had\ndespatched the brother of the two wicked women that it swung Onwee\nstraight around, and he found himself in a large village, surrounded\nby a great crowd of people. At the door of a beautiful lodge stood his\nsister, smiling, and ready to invite him in. Onwee entered, and hanging\nup his war-club and the enchanted moccasins, he rested from his labors\nand smoked his evening pipe, with the admiration and approval of the\nwhole world.\n\nWith one exception only, Onwee Bahmondang had the hearty praises of all\nthe people.\n\nNow it happened that there lived in this same village an envious and\nboastful fellow, who had been once a chief. Always coming home badly\nwhipped, he had been put out of office, and now spent his time about\nthe place, proclaiming certain great things which he had in his eye and\nwhich he meant to do--one of these days.\n\nThis man's name was Ko-ko, the Owl; and hearing much of the wonderful\nachievements of the Wearer of the Ball, Ko-ko put on a big look and\nannounced that he was going to do something extraordinary himself.\n\nOnwee Bahmondang, he said, had not half done his work, and he, Ko-ko,\nmeant to go on the ground and finish it up as it should he.\n\nHe began by procuring an oak ball, which he thrust down his back, and,\nconfident in its magical powers, he, too, called himself The Wearer of\nthe Ball. In fact it was the self-same hall that Onwee had employed,\nexcept that the magic had entirely gone out of it. Coming by night in\nthe shadow of Onwee's lodge, this bad fellow thrust his arm in at the\ndoor and stealthily possessed himself of the enchanted moccasins. He\nwould have taken away Onwee's war-club, too, if he could have carried\nit; but although he was twice the size and girth of Onwee, he had not\nthe strength to lift it; so he borrowed a club from an old chief, who\nwas purblind and mistook Ko-ko for his brother, who was a brave man.\nThis accomplished, Ko-ko raised a terrible tumult with his voice and a\ngreat dust with his heels, and set out.\n\nHe had traveled all day, when he came to a small wigwam, on looking into\nwhich he discovered a very old woman sitting alone by the fire; just as\nOnwee had before.\n\nThis is the wigwam, said Ko-ko, and this is the old woman.\n\n\"What are you looking for?\" asked the old woman.\n\n\"I want to find the lodge with the wicked young women in it, those who\nslay travelers and steal their trappings,\" answered Ko-ko.\n\n\"You mean the two young women who lived in the flying lodge?\" asked the\nold woman.\n\n\"The same,\" answered Ko-ko. \"I am going to kill them.\"\n\nWith this he gave a great flourish with his borrowed club, and looked as\ndesperate and murderous as he could.\n\n\"They were slain yesterday by The Wearer of the Ball,\" said the old\nwoman.\n\nKo-ko looked around for the door in a very owlish way and heaved a short\nhem from his chest. Then he acknowledged that he had heard something to\nthat effect down in one of the villages.\n\n\"But there's the brother. I'll have a chance at him,\" said Ko-ko.\n\n\"He is dead, too,\" said the old woman.\n\n\"Is there then nobody left for me to kill!\" cried Ko-ko. \"Must I then go\nback without any blood upon my hands?\"\n\nHe made as if he could shed tears over his sad mishap.\n\n\"The father is still living; and you will find him in the lodge, if you\nhave a mind to call on him. He would like to see the Owl,\" the old woman\nadded.\n\n\"He shall,\" replied Ko-ko. \"Have you any bones about the house; for I\nsuppose I shall have to climb that tree.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes; plenty,\" answered the old woman. \"You can have as many as you\nwant.\"\n\nAnd she gave him a handful of fish-bones, which Ko-ko thrust into his\nbosom, taking them to be the Invisible Tallies which had helped Onwee\nBahmondang in climbing the magical tree.\n\n\"Thank you,\" said Ko-ko, taking up his club and striding toward the\ndoor.\n\n\"Will you not have a little advice,\" said the old woman. \"This is a\ndangerous business you are going on.\"\n\nKo-ko turned about and laughed to scorn the proposal. Then putting forth\nhis right foot from the lodge first, an observance in which he had great\nhopes, he started for the lodge of the wicked father.\n\nKo-ko ran very fast, as if he feared he should lose the chance of\nmassacring any member of the wicked family, and soon came in sight of\nthe lodge hanging upon the tree.\n\nHe then slackened his pace and crept forward with a wary eye, lest\nsomebody might chance to be looking out at the door. All was still up\nthere, however, and Ko-ko clasped the tree and began to climb.\n\nAway went the lodge, and up went Ko-ko, puffing and panting, after it.\nAnd it was not a great while before the Owl had puffed and panted away\nall the wind he had to spare; and yet the lodge kept flying aloft,\nhigher, higher. What was to be done!\n\nKo-ko, of course, bethought him of the bones, for that was just what, as\nhe knew, had occurred to Onwee Bahmondang under the like circumstances.\n\nHe had the bones in his bosom; but first it was necessary for him to be\na squirrel. He immediately called on several guardian spirits whom he\nknew of by name, and requested them to convert him into a squirrel.\nBut not one of all of them seemed to pay the slightest attention to\nhis request; for there he hung, the same heavy-limbed, big-headed,\nbe-clubbed, and be-blanketed Ko-ko as ever.\n\nHe then desired that they would turn him into an opossum; an application\nwhich met with the same luck as the previous one. After this he\npetitioned to be a wolf, a gophir, a dog, or a bear--if they would be so\nobliging. The guardian spirits were either all deaf, or indifferent to\nhis wishes, or absent on some other business.\n\nKo-ko, in spite of all his begging and supplication and beseeching, was\nobliged to be still Ko-ko.\n\n\"However, the bones are good,\" he said to himself. \"I shall get a nice\nrest, at any rate, if I am forced to climb as I am.\"\n\nWith this he drew out one of the bones from his bosom, and shouting\naloud, \"Ho! ho! who is there?\" he thrust it into the trunk of the tree\nand would have indulged himself in a rest; but being no more than a\ncommon fish-bone, without the slightest savor of magic in it, it snapped\nwith Ko-ko, who came tumbling down, with the door of the lodge, which he\nhad shaken loose, rattling after him.\n\n\"Ho! ho! who is there?\" cried the wicked father, making his appearance\nat the opening and looking down.\n\n\"It is I, Onwee Bahmondang!\" cried Ko-ko, thinking to frighten the\nwicked father.\n\n\"Ah! it is you, is it? I will be there presently,\" called the old man.\n\"Do not be in haste to go away!\"\n\nKo-ko, observing that the old man was in earnest, scrambled up from the\nground and set off promptly at his highest rate of speed.\n\nWhen he looked back and saw that the wicked father was gaining upon him,\nKo-ko mounted a tree, as had Onwee Bahmondang before. Then he fired off\na number of arrows, but as they were no more than common arrows, he got\nnothing by it, but was obliged to descend and run again for his life.\n\nAs he hurried on he encountered the skeleton of a moose, into which he\nwould have transformed himself; but not having the slightest confidence\nin any one of all the guardians who should have helped him, he passed\non.\n\nThe wicked father was hot in pursuit and Ko-ko was suffering terribly\nfor lack of wind, when luckily he remembered the enchanted moccasins. He\nwould not send them to the end of the earth, as had Onwee Bahmondang.\n\n\"I will improve on that dull fellow,\" said Ko-ko. \"I will put them on\nmyself.\"\n\nAccordingly, Ko-ko had just time to draw on the moccasins when the\nwicked father came in sight.\n\n\"Go now!\" cried Ko-ko, giving orders to the enchanted moccasins; and go\nthey did. But to the astonishment of the Owl, they turned immediately\nabout in the way in which the wicked father was furiously approaching.\n\n\"The other way! the other way!\" cried Ko-ko.\n\nCry as loud as he would, the enchanted moccasins would keep on in their\nown course; and before he could shake himself out of them, they had run\nhim directly into the face of the wicked father.\n\n\"What do you mean, you Owl?\" cried the wicked father, falling upon Ko-ko\nwith a huge club, and counting his ribs at every stroke.\n\n\"I cannot help it, good man,\" answered Ko-ko. \"I tried my best--\"\n\nKo-ko would have gone the other way, but the enchanted moccasins kept\nhurrying him forward.\n\n\"Stand off, will you?\" cried the old man.\n\nBy this time the moccasins were taking him past, allowing the wicked\nfather chance to bestow no more than five-and-twenty more blows upon\nKo-ko.\n\n\"Stop!\" cried the old man again. \"You are running away. Ho! ho! you are\na coward!\"\n\n\"I am not, good man,\" answered Ko-ko, carried away by the magical shoes,\n\"I assure you.\" But ere he could finish his avowal, the moccasins had\nhurried him out of sight.\n\n\"At any rate, I shall soon be home at this speed,\" said Ko-ko to\nhimself.\n\nThe moccasins seemed to know his thoughts; for just then they gave a\nsudden leap, slipped away from his feet, and left the Owl flat upon\nhis back! while they glided home by themselves to the lodge of Onwee\nBahmondang, where they belonged.\n\nA party of hunters passing that way after several days, found Ko-ko\nsitting among the bushes, looking greatly bewildered. When they inquired\nof him how he had succeeded with the wicked father at the lodge, he\nanswered that he had demolished the whole establishment, but that his\nname was not Ko-ko, but Onwee Bahmondang; saying which, he ran away into\nthe woods, and was never seen more.\n\n[Illustration: 0255]\n\n\n\n\nXIX. THE WEENDIGOES AND THE BONE-DWARF\n\n\n|THERE once lived a man and his wife and their son in a lonely forest.\nThe father went forth every day, according to the custom of the Indians,\nto hunt for food to supply his family.\n\nOne day while he was absent, his wife, on going out of the lodge, looked\ntoward the lake that was near and saw a very large man walking on the\nwater, coming fast toward the lodge. He was already so near that she\ncould not escape by flight, even if she had wished to.\n\n\"What shall I say to the monster?\" she thought to herself.\n\nAs he advanced rapidly, she ran in, and taking the hand of her son, a\nboy of three or four years old, she led him out. Speaking very loud,\n\"See, my son,\" she said, \"your grandfather\"; and then added in a tone of\nappeal and supplication, \"he will have pity on us.\" The giant approached\nand said, with a loud ha I ha! \"Yes, my son\"; and added, addressing the\nwoman, \"Have you anything to eat?\"\n\nBy good luck the lodge was well supplied with meats of various kinds.\nThe woman thought to please him by handing him these, which were savory\nand carefully prepared. But he pushed them away in disgust, saying, \"I\nsmell fire\"; and not waiting to be invited, he seized upon the carcass\nof a deer which lay by the door and despatched it almost without\nstopping to take breath.\n\nWhen the hunter came home he was surprised to see the monster, he was so\nvery frightful. He had again brought a deer, which he had no sooner put\ndown than the cannibal seized it, tore it in pieces, and devoured it as\nthough he had been fasting for a week. The hunter looked on in fear and\nastonishment, and in a whisper he told his wife that he was afraid for\ntheir lives, as this monster was one of those monsters whom Indians call\nWeendigoes. He did not even dare to speak to him, nor did the cannibal\nsay a word, but as soon as he had finished his meal, stretched himself\ndown and fell asleep.\n\nIn the evening the Weendigo told the people that he should go out\na-hunting; and he strided away toward the North. Toward morning he\nreturned, all besmeared with blood, but he did not make known where he\nhad been or of what kind of game he had been in quest; but the hunter\nand his wife had dreadful suspicions of the sport in which he had been\nengaged. Withal his hunger did not seem to be staid, for he took up the\ndeer which the hunter had brought in and devoured it eagerly, leaving\nthe family to make their meal of the dried meats which had been reserved\nin the lodge.\n\nIn this manner the Weendigo and the hunter's family lived for some time,\nand it surprised them that the monster did not attempt their lives; he\nnever slept at night, but always went out and returned by the break of\nday stained with blood and looking very wild and famished. When there\nwas no deer to be had wherewith to finish his repast, he said nothing.\nIn truth he was always still and gloomy, and he seldom spoke to any of\nthem; when he did, his discourse was chiefly addressed to the boy.\n\nOne evening, after he had thus sojourned with them for many weeks, he\ninformed the hunter that the time had now arrived for him to take his\nleave, but that before doing so, he would give him a charm that would\nbring good luck to his lodge. He presented to him two arrows, and\nthanking the hunter and his wife for their kindness, the Weendigo\ndeparted, saying, as he left them, that he had all the world to travel\nover.\n\nThe hunter and his wife were happy when he was gone, for they had looked\nevery moment to have been devoured by him. Then they tried the arrows,\nwhich never failed to bring down whatever they were aimed at.\n\nSo they lived on, prosperous and contented, for a year. One day when the\nhunter was absent, his wife, going out of the lodge, saw something like\na black cloud approaching.\n\nShe looked until it came near, when she perceived that it was another\nWeendigo, or Giant Cannibal.\n\nRemembering the good conduct of the other, she had no fear of this one,\nand asked him to look into the lodge.\n\nHe did so; but finding after he had glared around that there was no food\nat hand, he grew very wroth, and being sorely disappointed, he took the\nlodge and threw it to the winds. He seemed hardly at first to notice the\nwoman in his anger; but presently he cast a fierce glance upon her, and\nseizing her by the waist, in spite of her cries and entreaties, he bore\nher oft. To the little son, who ran to and fro lamenting, he paid no\nheed.\n\nWhen the hunter returned from the forest at nightfall, he was amazed.\nHis lodge was gone, and he saw his son sitting near the spot where\nit had stood, shedding tears. The son pointed in the direction the\nWeen-digo had taken, and as the father hurried along he found the bones\nof his wife strewn upon the ground.\n\nThe hunter blackened his face and vowed in his heart that he would have\nrevenge. He built another lodge, and gathering together the bones of his\nwife, he placed them in the hollow part of a dry tree.\n\nHe left his boy to take care of the lodge while he was absent. Then he\nwent hunting and roaming about from place to place, striving to forget\nhis misfortune, and always searching for the wicked Weendigo.\n\nOne morning he had been gone but a little while, when his son shot his\narrows out through the top of the lodge; running out to look for them,\nhe could find them nowhere. The boy had been trying his luck, and he was\npuzzled that he had shot his shafts entirely out of sight.\n\nHis father made him more arrows, and when he was again left alone, he\nshot one of them out; but although he looked as sharply as he could\ntoward the spot where it fell, and ran thither at once, he could not\nfind it. He shot another, which was lost in the same way. Returning to\nthe lodge to replenish his quiver, he happened to espy one of the lucky\narrows which the first Weendigo had given to his father, hanging upon\nthe side of the lodge. He reached up, and having secured it, he shot it\nout at the opening. Immediately running out to find where it fell, he\nwas surprised to see a beautiful boy just in the act of taking it up and\nhurrying away with it to a large tree. There he disappeared.\n\nThe hunter's son followed, and having come to the tree, beheld the face\nof the boy looking out through an opening in the hollow part.\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" he said, \"my friend, come out and play with me.\" And he urged\nthe boy till he consented. They played and shot their arrows by turns.\n\nSuddenly the young boy said, \"Your father is coming. We must stop.\nPromise me that you will not tell him.\"\n\nThe hunter's son promised, and the other disappeared in the tree.\n\nWhen the hunter returned from the chase, his son sat demurely by the\nfire: In the course of the evening he asked his father to make him a\nnew bow; and when he was questioned as to the use he could find for two\nbows, he answered that one might break or get lost.\n\nThe father, pleased at his son's diligence in the practise of the bow,\nmade him the new weapon; and the next day, as soon as his father had\ngone away, the boy ran to the hollow tree and invited his little friend\nto come out and play, at the same time presenting to him the new bow.\nThey went and played in the lodge together, and in their sport they\nraised the ashes all over it.\n\nSuddenly again the youngest said, \"Your father is coming, I must leave.\"\n\nHe again exacted a promise of secrecy and went back to his tree. The\neldest took his seat near the fire.\n\nWhen the hunter came in he was surprised to see the ashes scattered\nabout. \"Why, my son,\" he said, \"you must have played very hard to-day to\nraise such a dust all alone.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the boy answered, \"I was very lonesome, and I ran round and\nround--that is the cause of it.\"\n\nThe next day the hunter made ready for the chase as usual. The boy said:\n\n\"Father, try and hunt all day, and see what you can kill.\"\n\nHe had no sooner set out than the boy called his friend, and they played\nand chased each other round the lodge. They had great delight in\neach other's company and made merry by the hour. The hunter was again\nreturning, and came to a rising ground which caught the winds as they\npassed, when he heard his son laughing and making a noise; but the\nsounds as they reached him on the hill-top, seemed as if they arose from\ntwo persons playing.\n\nAt the same time the younger boy stopped, and after saying, \"Your father\nis coming,\" stole away under cover of the high grass to his hollow tree,\nwhich was not far off.\n\nThe hunter, on entering, found his son sitting by the fire, very quiet\nand unconcerned, although he saw that all the articles of the lodge were\nlying thrown about in all directions.\n\n\"Why, my son,\" he said, \"you must play very hard every day; and what is\nit that you do, all alone, to throw the lodge in such confusion?\"\n\nThe boy again had his excuse. \"Father,\" he answered, \"I play in this\nmanner: I chase and drag my blanket around the lodge, and that is the\nreason you see the ashes spread about.\"\n\nThe hunter was not satisfied until his son had shown him how he played\nwith the blanket, which he did so adroitly as to set his father laughing\nand at last drive him out of the lodge with the great clouds of ashes\nthat he raised.\n\nThe next morning the boy renewed his request that his father should\nbe absent all day, and see if he could not kill two deer. The hunter\nthought this a strange desire on the part of his son, but as he had\nalways humored the boy, he went into the forest as usual, bent on\naccomplishing his wish, if he could.\n\nAs soon as he was out of sight, his son hastened to his young companion\nat the tree, and they continued their sports.\n\nThe father on nearing his home in the evening again heard the sounds of\nplay and laughter; and as the wind brought them straight to his ear, he\nwas now certain that there were two voices.\n\nThe boy from the tree had no more than time to escape, when the hunter\nentered and found his son sitting as usual near the fire. When he cast\nhis eyes around, he saw that the lodge was in greater confusion than\nbefore.\n\n\"My son,\" he said, \"you must be very foolish to play so when alone. But,\ntell me, my son; I heard two voices, I am sure,\" and he looked closely\non the prints of the footsteps in the ashes. \"True,\" he continued, \"here\nis the print of a foot which is smaller than yours,\" and he was now\nsatisfied that his suspicions were well founded, and that some very\nyoung person had been the companion of his son during his absence.\n\nThe boy could not now refuse to tell his father what had happened.\n\n\"Father,\" he said, \"I found a boy in the hollow of that tree near the\nlodge, where you placed my mother's bones.\"\n\nStrange thoughts came over the mind of the hunter; did his wife live\nagain in this beautiful child?\n\nFearful of disturbing the dead, he did not dare to visit the place where\nhe had deposited her remains.\n\nHe, however, engaged his son to entice the boy to a dead tree by the\nedge of a wood, where they could kill many flying-squirrels by setting\nit on fire. He said that he would conceal himself near-by and take the\nboy.\n\nThe next day the hunter accordingly went into the woods, and his son,\ncalling the boy from the tree, urged him to go with him to kill the\nsquirrels. The boy objected that the father was near, but he was at\nlength prevailed on to go, and after they had fired the tree, and while\nthey were busy killing or taking the squirrels, the hunter suddenly made\nhis appearance and clasped the strange boy in his arms.\n\n\"Kago, kago, don't, don't,\" cried the child. \"You will tear my clothes!\"\nFor he was clad in a fine apparel, which shone as if it had been made of\na beautiful transparent skin. The father reassured him by every means in\nhis power.\n\nBy constant kindness and gentle words the boy was reconciled to remain\nwith them; but chiefly by the presence of his young friend, the hunter's\nson, to whom he was fondly attached. The children were never parted from\neach other; and when the hunter looked upon the strange boy, he seemed\nto see living in him the better spirit of his lost wife. He was thankful\nto the Great Spirit for this act of goodness, and in his heart he felt\nassured that in time the boy would show great virtue and in some way\navenge him on the wicked Weendigo who had destroyed the companion of his\nlodge.\n\nThe hunter grew at ease in his spirit and gave all of the time he\ncould spare from the chase to the society of the two children; but what\naffected him most, both of his sons, although they were well-formed and\nbeautiful, grew no more in stature but remained children still. Every\nday they resembled each other more and more, and they never ceased to\nsport and divert themselves in the innocent ways of childhood.\n\nOne day the hunter had gone abroad with his bow and arrows, leaving\nbehind in the lodge, at the request of the strange boy, one of the two\nshafts which the friendly Weendigo had given to him.\n\nWhen he returned, what were his surprise and joy to see stretched dead\nby his lodge-door the black giant who had slain his wife. He had been\nstricken down by the magic shaft in the hands of the little stranger\nfrom the tree; and ever after the boy, or the Bone-Dwarf as he was\ncalled, was the guardian and good genius of the lodge. No evil spirit,\ngiant, or Weendigo, ever again dared approach it to mar their peace.\n\n\n\n\nXX. THE FIRE-PLUME\n\n\n|WASSAMO was living with his parents on the shore of a large bay far out\nin the north-east. One day, when the season had commenced for fish to be\nplenty, the mother of Wassamo said to him: \"My son, I wish you would go\nto yonder point and see if you cannot procure me some fish, and ask your\ncousin to accompany you.\"\n\nWassamo did so. He set out with his cousin, and in the course of the\nafternoon they arrived at the fishing-ground.\n\nThe cousin, being the elder, attended to the nets. When these were set\nin the lake, the youths encamped near-by, using the bark of the birch\nfor a lodge to shelter them through the night.\n\nThey lit a fire, and while they sat conversing with each other, the moon\narose. Not a breath of wind disturbed the smooth surface of the lake.\nNot a cloud was seen. Wassamo looked out on the water toward their nets,\nand he saw that the little black spots, which were no other than the\nfloats, had disappeared.\n\n\"Netawis,\" he said, \"let us visit our nets; perhaps we are fortunate.\"\n\nWhen they drew up the nets they were rejoiced to see the meshes shining\nwhite, all over, with the glittering prey. They landed in fine spirits,\nand put away their canoe in safety from the winds.\n\n\"Wassamo,\" said the cousin, \"you cook that we may eat.\"\n\nWassamo set about the work at once and soon had his great kettle swung\nupon its branch, while the cousin lay at his ease upon the other side of\nthe fire.\n\n\"Cousin,\" Said Wassamo, \"tell me stories or sing me some love-songs.\"\n\nThe cousin obeyed, and sang his plaintive songs, frequently breaking off\nin the midst of a mournful chant to recite a mirthful story, then in the\nmidst of Wassamo's laughter returning to the plaintive ditty--just as\nit suited his fancy; for Netawis was gay of spirit and shifted his\nhumor faster than the fleecy clouds that appeared and disappeared in the\nnight-sky over their heads. In this changeful pastime the cousin ran his\nlength and then fell away into a silvery sleep, murmuring parts of his\nsong or story, while the moon glided through the branches and gilded his\nface as though she were enamored of his fair looks.\n\nWassamo in the meanwhile had lost the sound of his cousin's voice in the\nrich simmer of the kettle; and when its music pleased his ear the most,\nas announcing that the fish were handsomely cooked, he lifted the kettle\nfrom the fire. He spoke to his cousin, but he received no answer.\n\nHe went on with his housekeeping alone and took the wooden ladle and\nskimmed the kettle neatly, for the fish were very plump and fat. But he\nhad a torch of twisted hark in one hand to give light, and when he came\nto take out the fish, there was no one to have charge of the torch.\n\nThe cousin was so happy in his sleep, with the silver moon kissing his\ncheeks, that Wassamo had not the heart to call him up.\n\nBinding his girdle upon his brow, in this he thrust the torch and went\nforward to prepare the evening meal with the light dancing through the\ngreen leaves at every turn of his head.\n\nHe again spoke to his cousin, but gently, to learn whether he was\nin truth asleep. The cousin murmured, but made no reply; and Wassamo\nstepped softly about with the dancing fire-plume lighting up the gloom\nof the forest at every turn he made.\n\nSuddenly he heard a laugh. It was double, or the one must be the perfect\necho of the other. To Wassamo there appeared to be two persons at no\ngreat distance.\n\n\"Cousin,\" said Wassamo, \"some person is near us. I hear a laugh; awake\nand let us look out!\"\n\nThe cousin made no answer.\n\nAgain Wassamo heard the laughter in mirthful repetition, like the ripple\nof the water-brook upon the shining pebbles of the stream. Peering\nout as far as the line of the torchlight pierced into the darkness, he\nbeheld two beautiful young maidens smiling on him.\n\nTheir countenances appeared to be perfectly; white, like the fresh snow.\n\nHe crouched down and pushed his cousin, saying in a low voice, \"Awake!\nawake! here are two young women.\"\n\nBut he received no answer. His cousin seemed lost to all earthly sense\nand sound; for he lay unmoved, smiling, in the calm light of the moon.\nWassamo started up alone and glided toward the strange maidens.\n\nAs he approached them he was more and more enraptured with their beauty;\nbut just as he was about to speak to them, he suddenly fell to the\nearth, and they all three vanished together. The moon shone where they\nhad just stood, but saw them not. Only a gentle sound of music and soft\nvoices accompanied their vanishing, and this wakened the cousin.\n\nAs Netawis opened his eyes in a dreamy way, he saw the kettle near him.\nSome of the fish, he observed, were in the bowl. The fire flickered and\nmade light and shadow; but nowhere was Wassamo to be seen. He waited,\nand waited again, in the expectation that Wassamo would appear.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" thought the cousin, \"he is gone out again to visit the nets.\"\n\nHe looked off that way, but the canoe still lay close by the rock at the\nshore. He searched and found footsteps in the ashes, and out upon the\ngreen ground a little distance, and then they were utterly lost.\n\nHe was now greatly troubled in spirit, and he called aloud, \"Wassamo!\ncousin! cousin!\" but there was no answer to his call. He called again\nin his sorrow, louder and louder, \"Wassamo! Wassamo! cousin! cousin!\nwhither are you gone?\" But no answer came to his voice of wailing. He\nstarted for the edge of the woods, crying as he ran, \"My cousin!\" and\n\"Oh, my cousin!\"\n\nHither and thither through the forest he sped with all his fleetness of\nfoot and quickness of spirit; and when at last he found that no voice\nwould answer him, he burst into tears and sobbed aloud.\n\nHe returned to the fire and sat down. He mused upon the absence of\nWassamo with a sorely troubled heart. \"He may have been playing me a\ntrick,\" he thought; but it was full time that the trick should be at\nan end, and Wassamo returned not. The cousin cherished other hopes, but\nthey all died away in the morning light, when he found himself alone by\nthe Hunting-fire.\n\n\"How shall I answer to his friends for Wassamo?\" thought the cousin.\n\"Although his parents are my kindred and are well assured that their son\nis my bosom-friend, will they receive that belief in the place of him\nwho is lost? No, no; they will say that I have slain him, and they will\nrequire blood for blood. Oh! my cousin, wither are you gone?\"\n\nHe would have rested to restore his mind to its peace, but he could not\nsleep; and without further regard to net or canoe, he set off for the\nvillage, running all the way.\n\nAs they saw him approaching at such speed and alone, they said, \"Some\naccident has happened.\"\n\nWhen he had come into the village, he told them how Wassamo had\ndisappeared. He stated all the circumstances. He kept nothing to\nhimself. He declared all that he knew.\n\nSome said, \"He has killed him in the dark.\" Others said, \"It is\nimpossible; they were like brothers; they would have fallen for each\nother. It cannot be.\"\n\nAt the cousin's request, many of the men visited the fish-fire. There\nwere no marks of blood. No hasty steps were there to show that any\nconflict or struggle had occurred. Every leaf on every tree was in its\nplace; and they saw, as the cousin had seen, that the foot-prints of\nWassamo stopped in the wood, as if he had gone no farther upon the earth\nbut had ascended into the air.\n\nThey returned to the village, and no man was the wiser as to the strange\nand sudden vanishing of Wassamo. None ever looked to see him more; only\nthe parents, who still hoped and awaited their son's return.\n\nThe Spring, with all its blossoms and its delicate newness of life,\ncame among them; the Indians assembled from all the country round to\ncelebrate their spring feast.\n\nAmong them came the sad cousin of Wassamo. He was pale and thin as the\nshadow of the shaft that flies. The pain of his mind had changed his\nfeatures, and wherever he turned his eyes, they were dazzled with the\nsight of the red blood of his friend.\n\nThe parents of Wassamo, far gone in despair and weary with watching for\nhis return, now demanded the life of Netawis. The village was stirred to\nits very heart by their loud lamentings; and after a struggle of pity,\nthey decided to give the young man's life to the parents. They said that\nthey had waited long enough. A day was appointed on which the cousin was\nto yield his life for his friend's.\n\nHe was a brave youth, and they bound him only by his word to be ready\nat the appointed hour. He said that he was not afraid to die; for he was\ninnocent of the great wrong they laid to his charge.\n\nA day or two before the time set to take his life, he wandered sadly\nalong the shore of the lake. He looked at the glassy water, and more\nthan once the thought to end his griefs by casting himself in its depths\ncame upon him with such sudden force that only by severe self-control\nwas he able to turn his steps in another direction. He reflected--\n\n\"They will say that I was guilty if I take my own life. No. I will give\nthem my blood for that of my cousin.\"\n\nHe walked on with slow steps, but he found no comfort, turn where he\nwould; the sweet songs of the forest jarred upon his ear; the beauty of\nthe blue sky pained his sight; and the soft green earth, as he trod upon\nit, seemed harsh to his foot and sent a pang through every nerve.\n\n\"Oh, where is my cousin?\" he kept saying to himself.\n\nMeanwhile, when Wassamo fell senseless before the two young women in the\nwood, he lost all knowledge of himself until he awakened in a distant\nscene. He heard persons conversing. One spoke in a tone of command,\nsaying:\n\n\"Foolish ones, is this the way that you rove about at nights without our\nknowledge? Put that person you have brought on that couch of yours, and\ndo not let him lie upon the ground.\"\n\nWassamo felt himself moved, he knew not how, and placed upon a couch.\nSome time after, the spell seemed to be a little lightened, and on\nopening his eyes, he was surprised to find that he was lying in a\nspacious and shining lodge extending as far as the eye could reach. One\nspoke to him and said:\n\n\"Stranger, awake, and take something wherewith to refresh yourself.\"\n\nHe obeyed the command and sat up. On either side of the lodge he beheld\nrows of people seated in orderly array. At a distance he could see two\nstately persons, who looked rather more in years than the others, and\nwho appeared to exact obedience from all around them. One of them, whom\nhe heard addressed as the Old Spirit-man, spoke to Wassamo.\n\n\"My son,\" said he, \"know it was those foolish maidens who brought\nyou hither. They saw you at the fishing-ground. When you attempted\nto approach them you fell senseless, and at the same moment they\ntransported you to this place. You are now under the earth. But be at\nease. We will make your stay with us pleasant. I am the Guardian Spirit\nof the Sand Mountains. They are my charge. I pile them up and blow them\nabout and do whatever I will with them. It keeps me very busy, but I am\nhale for my age, and I love to be employed. I have often wished to get\none of your race to marry among us. If you can make up your mind to\nremain, I will give you one of my daughters--the one who smiled on you\nfirst the night you were brought away from your parents and friends.\"\n\nWassamo dropped his head and made no answer. The thought that he should\nbehold his kindred no more made him sad.\n\nHe was silent, and the Old Spirit continued: \"Your wants will all be\nsupplied; but you must be careful not to stray far from the lodge. I am\nafraid of that Spirit who rules all islands lying in the lakes. He is my\nbitter enemy, for I have refused him my daughter in marriage; and when\nhe learns that you are a member of my family, he will seek to harm you.\nThere is my daughter,\" added the Old Spirit, pointing toward her. \"Take\nher. She shall be your wife.\"\n\nForthwith Wassamo and the Old Spirit's daughter sat near each other in\nthe lodge, and they were man and wife.\n\nOne evening the Old Spirit came in after a busy day's work ont among the\nsand-hills, in the course of which he had blown them all ont of shape\nwith great gusts of wind, strewn them about in a thousand directions and\nbrought them back and piled them up in all sorts of misshapen heaps.\n\nAt the close of this busy day, when the Old Spirit came in very much out\nof breath, he said to Wassamo:\n\n\"Son-in-law, I am in want of tobacco. None grows about this dry place\nof mine. You shall return to your people and procure me a supply. It\nis seldom that the few who pass these sand-hills offer me a piece\nof tobacco--it is a rare plant in these parts--but when they do, it\nimmediately comes to me. Just so,\" he added, putting his hand out of\nthe side of the lodge and drawing in several pieces of tobacco. Some\none passing at that moment had offered it as a fee to the Old Spirit, to\nkeep the sand-hills from blowing about till they had got by.\n\nOther gifts besides tobacco came in the same way to the side of the\nlodge--sometimes a whole bear, then a wampum-robe, then a string of\nbirds--and the Sand-Spirits altogether led an easy life; for they\nwere not at the trouble to hunt or clothe themselves; and whenever the\nhousekeeping began to fall short, nothing would happen but a wonderful\nstorm of dust, all the sand-hills being straightway put in an uproar,\nand the contributions would at once begin to pour in at the side windows\nof the lodge, till all wants were supplied.\n\nAfter Wassamo had been among these curious people several months, the\nold Sand-Spirit said to him:\n\n\"Son-in-law, you must not be surprised at what you will see next; for\nsince you have been with us you have never known us to go to sleep. It\nhas been summer, when the sun never sets here where we live. But now,\nwhat you call winter is coming on. You will soon see us lie down, and we\nshall not rise again till the spring. Take my advice. Do not leave the\nlodge. I have sure knowledge that that knavish Island Spirit is on the\nprowl, and as he has command of a particular kind of storm, which comes\nfrom the south-west, he only waits his opportunity to catch you abroad\nand do you mischief. Try and amuse yourself. That cupboard,\" pointing\nto a corner of the lodge, \"is never empty; for it is there that all the\nofferings are handed in while we are asleep. It is never empty, and--\"\nBut ere the old Sand-Spirit could utter another word, a loud rattling of\nthunder was heard, and instantly not only the Old Spirit but every one\nof his family vanished out of sight.\n\nWhen the storm had passed by, they all reappeared in the lodge. This\nsudden vanishing and reappearance occurred at every tempest.\n\n\"You are surprised,\" said the Old Spirit, \"to see us disappear when it\nthunders. The reason is this: that noise which you fancy is thunder is\nour enemy the Island Spirit hallooing on his way home from the hunt. We\nget out of sight that we may escape the necessity of asking him to come\nin and share our evening meal. We are not afraid of him, not in the\nleast.\"\n\nJust then it chanced to thunder again, and Wassamo observed that his\nfather-in-law made, extraordinary despatch to conceal himself, although\nno stranger was in view, at all resembling in any way the Island Spirit.\n\nShortly after this the season of sleep began, and one by one they laid\nthemselves down to the long slumber.\n\nThe Old Spirit was the last to drop away; and before he yielded, he went\nforth and had his last sport with the sand-hills. He so tossed and vexed\nthe poor hills, scattered them to and fro, and whirled them up in the\nair and far over the land, that it was days and days before they got\nhack to anything like their natural shape.\n\nWhile his relations were enjoying this long sleep, Wassamo amused\nhimself as best he could. The cupboard never failed him once; for visit\nit when he i would, he always found a fresh supply of game and every\nother dainty which his heart desired.\n\nBut his chief pastime was to listen to the voices of the travelers who\npassed by the window at the side of the lodge, where they made their\nrequests for comfortable weather and an easy journey.\n\nThese were often mingled with loud complainings, such as \"Ho! how the\nsand jumps about!\"\n\n\"Take away that hill!\"\n\n\"I am lost!\"\n\n\"Old Sand-Spirit, where are you? Help this way!\" which indicated that\nsuch as were journeying through the hills had their own troubles to\nencounter.\n\nAs the spring-light of the first day of spring shone into the lodge, the\nwhole family arose and went about the affairs of the day as though they\nhad been slumbering only for a single night. The rest seemed to have\ndone the Old Spirit much good, for he was very cheerful. Putting his\nhead forth from the window for a puff at a sand-hill, which was his\nprime luxury in a morning, he said to Wassamo:\n\n\"Son-in-law, you have been very patient with our long absence from your\ncompany, and you shall be rewarded. In a few days you may start with\nyour wife to visit your relations. You can be absent one year, but\nat the end of that time, you must return. When you get to your home\nvillage, you must first go in alone. Leave your wife at a short distance\nfrom the lodge, and when you are welcome, then send for her. When there,\ndo not be surprised that she disappears whenever you hear it thunder.\"\nHe added, with a sly look, \"That old Island Spirit has a brother down\nin that part of the country. You will prosper in all things, for my\ndaughter is very diligent. All the time that you pass in sleep, she will\nbe at work. The distance is short to your village. A path leads directly\nto it, and when you get there, do not forget my wants as I stated to you\nbefore.\"\n\nWassamo promised obedience to these directions, and at the appointed\ntime set out in company with his wife. They traveled on a pleasant\ncourse, his wife leading the way, until they reached a rising ground.\n\nAt the highest point of this ground, she said, \"We shall soon get to\nyour country.\"\n\nIt suddenly became broad day, as they came upon a high bank. Then they\npassed, unwet, for a short distance under the lake and presently emerged\nfrom the water at the sand-banks, just off the shore where Wassamo had\nset his nets on the night when he had been borne away by the two strange\nfemales.\n\nWassamo now left his wife sheltered in a neighboring wood, while he\nadvanced toward the village alone. When he turned the first point of\nland by the lake he beheld his cousin as he walked the shore, musing\nsadly, and from time to time breaking forth in mournful cries.\n\nWith the speed of lightning the cousin rushed forward. \"Wassamo!\nWassamo!\" he cried, \"is it indeed you? Whence have you come, oh, my\ncousin?\" They fell upon each other's necks and wept aloud. And then,\nwithout further delay or question, the cousin ran off with breathless\ndespatch to the village. He seemed like a shadow upon the open ground,\nhe sped so fast.\n\nHe entered the lodge where sat the mother of Wassamo in mourning for her\nson. \"Hear me,\" said the cousin. \"I have seen him whom you accuse me of\nhaving killed. He will be here even while we speak.\"\n\nHe had scarcely uttered these words when the whole village was astir in\nan instant. All ran out and strained their eyes to catch the first view\nof him whom they had thought dead. And when Wassamo came forward, they\nat first fell from him as though he had been in truth one returned from\nthe Spiritland. He entered the lodge of his parents. They saw that it\nwas Wassamo, living, breathing and as they had ever known him. And joy\nlit up the lodge-circle as though a new fire had been kindled in the\neyes of his friends and kinsfolk.\n\nHe related all that had happened to him from the moment of his leaving\nthe temporary night-lodge with the flame on his head. He told them of\nthe strange land in which he had sojourned during his absence. He added\nto his mother, apart from the company, that he was married, and that he\nhad left his wife at a short distance from the village.\n\nShe went out immediately in search of her; they soon found her in the\nwood, and all the women in the village conducted her in honor to the\nlodge of her new relations. The Indian people were astonished at her\nbeauty, at the whiteness of her skin, and still more, that she was able\nto talk with them in their own language.\n\nThe village was happy, and the feast went on as long as the supply\nheld out. All were delighted to make the acquaintance of the old\nSand-Spirit's daughter; and as they had heard that he was a magician\nand guardian of great power, the tobacco which he had sent for by his\nson-in-law came in great abundance with every visitor.\n\nThe summer and fall which Wassamo thus passed with his parents and the\npeople of his tribe were prosperous with all the country.\n\nThe cousin of Wassamo recovered heart and sang once more his sad or\nmirthful chants, just as the humor was upon him; but he kept close by\nWassamo and watched him in all his movements. He made it a point to ask\nmany questions of the country he came from; some of which his cousin\nreplied to, but others he left entirely unanswered.\n\nAt every thunderstorm, as the old Sand-Spirit had foreboded, the wife of\nWassamo disappeared, much to the astonishment of her Indian company. And\nto their greater wonder she was never idle, night or day.\n\nWhen the winter came on, Wassamo prepared for her a comfortable lodge to\nwhich she withdrew for her long sleep; and he gave notice to his friends\nthat they must not disturb her, as she would not be with them again\nuntil the spring returned.\n\nBefore lying down, she said to her husband, \"No one but yourself must\npass on this side of the lodge.\" The winter passed away with snows\noutside, and sports and stories in the lodge; and when the sap of the\nmaple began to flow, the wife of Wassamo wakened and immediately set\nabout work as before. She helped at the maple-trees with the others; and\nas if luck were in her presence, the sugar-harvest was greater than had\nbeen ever known in all that region.\n\nThe gifts of tobacco after this came in even more freely than they had\nat first; and as each giver brought his bundle to the lodge of Wassamo,\nhe asked for the usual length of life, for success as a hunter, and\nfor a plentiful supply of food. They particularly desired that the\nsand-hills might be kept quiet, so that their lands might be moist and\ntheir eyes clear of dust to sight the game.\n\nWassamo replied that he would mention each of their requests to his\nfather-in-law.\n\nThe tobacco was stored in sacks, and on the outside of the skins, that\nthere might be no mistake as to their wants, each one who had given\ntobacco had painted and marked in distinct characters the totem or\nfamily emblem of his family and tribe. These the old Sand-Spirit could\nread at his leisure and do what he thought best for each of his various\npetitioners.\n\nWhen the time for his return arrived, Wassamo warned his people that\nthey should not follow him or attempt to take note how he disappeared.\nHe then took the moose-skin sacks filled with tobacco and bade farewell\nto all but Netawis. The latter insisted on the privilege of attending\nWassamo and his wife for a distance, and when they reached the\nsand-banks he expressed the strongest wish to proceed with them on their\njourney. Wassamo told him that it could not be; that only spirits could\nexert the necessary power, and that there were no such spirits at hand.\n\nThey then took an affectionate leave of each other, Wassamo enjoining\nupon his cousin, at risk of his life, not to look back when he had once\nstarted to return.\n\nThe cousin, sore at heart but constrained to obey, parted from them;\nand as he walked sadly away, he heard a gliding noise as of the sound of\nwaters that were cleaved.\n\nHe returned home and told his friends that Wassamo and his wife had\ndisappeared, but that he knew not how. No one doubted his word in\nanything now.\n\nWassamo with his wife soon reached their home at the hills. The old\nSand-Spirit was in excellent health and delighted to see them. He hailed\ntheir return with open arms; and he opened his arms so very wide, that\nwhen he closed them he not only embraced Wassamo and his wife, but all\nof the tobacco-sacks which they had brought with them.\n\nThe requests of the Indian people were made known to him; he replied\nthat he would attend to all, but that he must first invite his friends\nto smoke with him. Accordingly he at once despatched his pipe-bearer and\nconfidential aid to summon various Spirits of his acquaintance, and set\nthe time for them to come.\n\nMeanwhile he had a word of advice for his son-inlaw, Wassamo. \"My son,\"\nsaid he, \"some of these Manitos that I have asked to come here are of a\nvery wicked temper, and I warn you especially of that Island Spirit who\nwished to marry my daughter. He is a very bad-hearted Monedo, and would\nlike to do you harm. Some of the company, however, you will find to be\nvery friendly. A caution for you. When they come in, do you sit close by\nyour wife; if you do not, you will be lost. She only can save you; for\nthose who are expected to come are so powerful that they will otherwise\ndraw you from your seat and toss you out of the lodge as though you were\na feather. You have only to observe my words and all will be well.\"\n\nWassamo took heed to what the Old Spirit said and answered that he would\nobey.\n\nAbout midday the company began to assemble; and such a company Wassamo\nhad never looked on before. There were Spirits from all parts of the\ncountry; such strange-looking persons, and in dresses so wild and\noutlandish! One entered who smiled on him. This, Wassamo was informed,\nwas a Spirit who had charge of the affairs of a tribe in the North, and\nhe was as pleasant and cheery a Spirit as one would wish to see. Soon\nafter, Wassamo heard a great rumbling and roaring, as of waters tumbling\nover rocks; and presently, with a vast bluster, and fairly shaking the\nlodge with his deep-throated hail of welcome to the old Sand-Spirit, in\nrolled another, who was the Guardian Spirit and special director of a\ngreat cataract or water-fall not far off.\n\nThen came with crashing steps the owner of several whirlwinds, which\nwere in the habit of raging about in the neighboring country. And\nfollowing this one glided in a sweet-spoken, gentle-faced little Spirit,\nwho was understood to represent a summer gale that was accustomed to\nblow in at the lodge-doors, toward evening, and to be particularly well\ndisposed toward young lovers.\n\nThe last to appear was a great rocky-headed fellow; and he was twice\nas stony in his manners. He swaggered and strided in, and raised such\na commotion with his great green blanket when he shook it, that Wassamo\nwas nearly taken off his feet; and it was only by main force that he was\nable to cling by his wife. This, which was the last to enter, was that\nwicked Island Spirit, who looked grimly enough at Wassamo's wife as he\npassed in.\n\nSoon after, the old Sand-Spirit, who was a great speech-maker, arose and\naddressed the assembly.\n\n\"Brothers,\" he said, \"I have invited you to partake with me of the\nofferings made by the mortals on earth, which have been brought by our\nrelation,\" pointing to Wassamo. \"Brothers, you see their wishes and\ndesires plainly set forth here,\" laying his hand upon the figured\nmoose-skins. \"The offering is worthy of our consideration. Brothers, I\nsee nothing on my part to hinder our granting their requests; they do\nnot appear to be unreasonable. Brothers, the offer is gratifying. It is\ntobacco--an article which we have lacked until we scarcely knew how to\nuse our pipes. Shall we grant their requests? One thing more I would\nsay. Brothers, it is this: There is my son-in-law; he is mortal. I wish\nto detain him with me, and it is with us jointly to make him one of us.\"\n\n\"Hoke! hoke!\" ran though the whole company of Spirits, and \"Hoke! hoke!\"\nthey cried again. And it was understood that the petitioners were to\nhave all they asked, and that Wassamo was thenceforward fairly accepted\nas a member of the great family of Spirits.\n\nAs a wedding-gift the Old Spirit promised his son-in-law one request,\nwhich should be promptly granted.\n\n\"Let there be no sand-squalls among my father's people for three months\nto come,\" said Wassamo.\n\n\"So shall it be,\" answered the old Sand-Spirit.\n\nThe tobacco was now divided in equal shares among the company. They\nfilled their pipes--and huge pipes they were! And such clouds they blew,\nthat they rushed forth out of the lodge and brought on night in all the\ncountry round about, several hours before its time.\n\nAfter a time passed in silence, the Spirits rose up, and bearing off\ntheir tobacco-sacks, went smoking through the country, losing themselves\nin their own fog, till a late hour in the morning, when all of their\npipes being burned out, each departed on his own business.\n\nThe very next day the old Sand-Spirit, who was very much pleased with\nthe turn affairs had taken at his entertainment, addressed Wassamo:\n\n\"Son-in-law, I have made up my mind to allow you another holiday as an\nacknowledgment of the handsome manner in which you acquitted yourself\nof your embassy. You may visit your parents and relatives once more, to\ntell them that their wishes are granted and to take your leave of them\nforever. You can never, after, visit them again.\"\n\nWassamo at once set out, reached his people, and was heartily welcomed.\n\nThey asked for his wife, and Wassamo informed them that she had tarried\nat home to look after a son, a fine little Sand-Spirit, who had been\nborn to them since his return.\n\nHaving delivered all of his messages and passed a happy time, Wassamo\nsaid, \"I must now bid you all farewell forever.\"\n\nHis parents and friends raised their voices in loud lamentation; they\nclung to him, and as a special favor, which he could now grant, being\nhimself a spirit, he allowed them to accompany him to the sand-banks.\n\nThey all seated themselves to watch his last farewell. The day was mild,\nthe sky clear, not a cloud appearing to dim the heavens, or a breath\nof wind to ruffle the tranquil waters. A perfect silence fell upon the\ncompany. They gazed with eager eyes fastened on Wassamo, as he waded\nont into the water, waving his hands. They saw him descend, more and\nmore, into the depths. They beheld the waves close over his head, and a\nloud and piercing wail went up which rent the sky.\n\nThey looked again; a red flame, as if the sun had glanced on a billow,\nlighted the spot for an instant; but the Feather of Flames, Wassamo of\nthe Fire-Plume, had disappeared from home and kindred and the familiar\npaths of his youth, forever.\n\n[Illustration: 0288]\n\n\n\n\nXXI. THE BIRD LOVER\n\n\n|IN a region of country where the forest and the prairie strove which\nshould be the most beautiful--the open plain with its free sunshine and\nwinds and flowers, or the close wood with its delicious twilight walks\nand green hollows--there lived a wicked manito in the disguise of an old\nIndian.\n\nAlthough the country furnished an abundance of game and whatever else\na good heart could wish for, it was the study of this wicked genius to\ndestroy such people as fell into his hands. He made use of all his arts\nto decoy men into his power for the purpose of killing them. The country\nhad been once thickly peopled, but this Mudjee Monedo had so thinned\nit by his cruel practices that he now lived almost solitary in the\nwilderness.\n\nThe secret of his success lay in his great speed. He had the power to\nassume the shape of any four-footed creature, and it was his custom to\nchallenge to a race all those he sought to destroy. He had a beaten path\non which he ran, leading around a large lake, and he always ran around\nthis circle so that the starting and the winning-post was the same.\nWhoever failed, as every one had, yielded up his life at this post;\nand although he ran every day, no man was ever known to beat this evil\ngenius; for whenever he was pressed hard, he changed himself into a fox,\nwolf, deer, or other swift-footed animal, and was thus able to leave his\ncompetitor behind.\n\nThe whole country was in dread of this same Mudjee Monedo, and yet the\nyoung men were constantly running with him; for if they refused, he\ncalled them cowards, which was a reproach they could not bear. They\nwould rather die than be called cowards.\n\nTo keep up his sport, the manito made light of these deadly\nfoot-matches. Instead of assuming a braggart air and going about in a\nboastful way with the blood of such as he had overcome upon his hands,\nhe adopted very pleasing manners and visited the lodges around the\ncountry as any other sweet-tempered and harmless old Indian might.\n\nHis secret object in these friendly visits was to learn whether the\nyoung boys were getting old enough to run with him; he kept a very sharp\neye upon their growth, and the day he thought them ready, he did not\nfail to challenge them to a trial on his racing-ground.\n\nThere was not a family in all that beautiful region which had not\nin this way been visited and thinned out; and the manito had quite\nnaturally come to be held in abhorrence by all the Indian mothers in the\ncountry.\n\nIt happened that there lived near him a poor widow woman whose husband\nand seven sons he had made way with. She was now living with an only\ndaughter and a son of ten or twelve years old.\n\nThis widow was very poor and feeble, and she suffered so much from lack\nof food and other comforts of the lodge, that she would have been glad\nto die but for her daughter and her little son. The Mudjee Monedo had\nalready visited her lodge to observe whether the boy was sufficiently\ngrown to be challenged to the race; and so crafty in his approaches and\nso soft in his manners was the monedo, that the mother feared he would\nyet decoy the son in spite of all her struggles and make way with him as\nhe had done with her husband and the seven elder sons.\n\nAnd yet she strove with all her might to strengthen her son in every\ngood course. She taught him, as best she could, what was becoming for\nthe wise hunter and the brave warrior. She remembered and set before him\nall that she could recall of the skill and the craft of his father and\nhis brothers who were lost.\n\nThe widow woman also instructed her daughter in whatever would make her\nuseful as a wife; and in the leisure-time of the lodge, she gave her\nlessons in the art of working with the quills of porcupine, and bestowed\non her such other accomplishments as should make her an ornament and\na blessing to her husband's household. The daughter, Minda by name,\ndisdained no labor of the lodge, was kind and obedient to her mother,\nand never failed in her duty. Their lodge stood high up on the banks\nof a lake, which gave them a wide prospect of country embellished with\ngroves and open fields, which waved with the blue light of their long\ngrass, and made, at all hours of sun and moon, a cheerful scene to look\nupon.\n\nAcross this beautiful prairie, Minda had one morning made her way to\ngather dry limbs for their fire. And while enjoying the sweetness of the\nair and the green beauty of the woods, she strolled far away.\n\nShe had come to a bank painted with flowers of every hue, and was\nreclining on its fragrant couch, when a bird, of red and deep-blue\nplumage softly blended, alighted on a branch near-by and began to pour\nforth its carol. It was a bird of strange character, such as she had\nnever before seen. Its first note was so delicious to the ear of Minda,\nit so pierced to her young heart, that she listened as she had never\nbefore to any mortal or heavenly sound. It seemed like the human\nvoice, forbidden to speak and uttering its language through this wild\nwood-chant with a mournful melody, as if it bewailed the lack of the\npower or the right to make itself more plainly intelligible.\n\nThe voice of the bird rose and fell and circled round and round; but\nwhithersoever floated or spread out its notes, they seemed ever to have\ntheir center where Minda sat; and she looked with sad eyes into the sad\neyes of the mournful bird, that sat in his red and deep-blue plumage\njust opposite to the flowery bank.\n\nThe poor bird strove more and more with his voice and seemed ever more\nand more anxiously to address his notes of lament to Minda's ear, till\nat last she could not refrain from speaking to him.\n\n\"What aileth thee, sad bird?\" she asked.\n\n[Illustration: 0295]\n\nAs if he had but waited to be spoken to, the bird left his branch, and\nalighting upon the bank, smiled on Minda. Shaking his shining plumage,\nhe answered:\n\n\"I am bound in this condition until a maiden shall accept me in\nmarriage. I have wandered through these forests and sung to many and\nmany of the Indian girls, but none ever heeded my voice till you.\nWill you be mine?\" he added, and poured forth a flood of melody which\nsparkled and spread itself with its sweet murmurs over all the scene,\nfairly entrancing the young Minda, who sat silent, as if she feared to\nbreak the charm by speech.\n\nThe bird, approaching nearer, asked her, if she loved him, to get her\nmother's consent to their marriage. \"I shall be free then,\" said the\nbird, \"and you shall know me as I am.\"\n\nMinda lingered and listened to the sweet voice of the bird, either\nin its own forest notes, or else filling each pause with gentle human\ndiscourse. For it questioned her as to her home, her family, and the\nlittle incidents of her daily life.\n\nShe returned to the lodge later than usual, but she was too timid to\nspeak to her mother of that which the bird had charged her. She returned\nagain and again to the fragrant haunt in the wood; and every day she\nlistened to the songs of her bird admirer with more pleasure, and he\nevery day besought her to speak to her mother of the marriage. This she\ncould not, however, muster heart and courage to do.\n\nAt last the widow began herself to have a suspicion that her daughter's\nheart was in the wood, from her long delays in returning and the little\nsuccess she had in gathering the fire-branches for which she went in\nsearch.\n\nThen, in answer to her mother's questions, Minda revealed the truth\nand made known her lover's request; and the mother gave her consent,\nconsidering the lonely and destitute condition of her little household.\n\nThe daughter hastened, with light steps, to carry the news to the wood.\nThe bird lover, of course, heard it with delight and fluttered through\nthe air in happy circles, pouring forth a song of joy which thrilled\nMinda to the heart.\n\nHe said that he would come to the lodge at sunset, and immediately took\nwing, while Minda hung fondly upon his flight, till he was lost far away\nin the blue sky.\n\nWith the twilight the bird lover appeared at the door of the lodge. But\nnow his name was Monedowa, and he had returned to his true form of\na hunter, with a red plume on his head and a mantle of blue upon his\nshoulders.\n\nHe addressed the widow as his friend, and she directed him to sit down\nbeside her daughter, and they were regarded as man and wife.\n\nEarly on the following morning he asked for the bow and arrows of those\nwho had been slain by the wicked manito, then went out a-hunting. As\nsoon as he had got out of sight of the lodge, he changed himself into\nthe wood-bird he had been before his marriage, and took his flight\nthrough the air.\n\nAlthough game was scarce in the neighborhood of the widow's lodge,\nMonedowa returned at evening, in his character of a hunter, with two\ndeer. This was his daily practice, and the widow's family never more\nlacked for food. It was noticed, however, that Monedowa himself ate but\nlittle, and that of a peculiar kind of meat flavored with berries, which\nfact, with other circumstances, convinced his wife that he was not as\nthe Indian people around him. His mother-in-law told him that in a few\ndays the manito would come to pay them a visit, to see how the young\nman, her son, prospered.\n\nMonedowa answered that he should on that day be absent.\n\nWhen the time arrived, he flew upon a tall pine-tree overlooking the\nlodge and took his station there as the wicked manito passed in.\n\nThe Mudjee Monedo cast sharp glances at the scaffolds so well laden with\nmeat, and as soon as he had entered, he said, \"Why, who is it that is\nfurnishing you with meat so plentifully?\"\n\n\"No one but my son,\" she answered. \"He is just beginning to kill deer.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" he retorted; \"some one is living with you.\"\n\n\"Kaween, no indeed!\" replied the widow. \"You are only making sport of\nmy hapless condition. Who do you think would come and trouble themselves\nabout me?\"\n\n\"Very well,\" answered the manito, \"I will go; but on such a day I will\nagain visit you and see who it is that furnishes the meat, and whether\nit is your son or not.\"\n\nHe had no sooner left the lodge and got out of sight, than the\nson-in-law made his appearance with two more deer. On being made\nacquainted with the conduct of the manito, he said, \"Very well, I will\nbe at home the next time, to see him.\"\n\nBoth the mother and the wife urged Monedowa to beware of the manito.\nThey made known all of his cruel courses, and assured him that no man\ncould escape from his power.\n\n\"No matter,\" said Monedowa. \"If he invites me to the race-ground, I will\nnot be backward. What follows may teach him, my mother, to show pity on\nthe vanquished and not to trample on the widow and those who are without\nfathers.\"\n\nWhen the day of the visit of the manito arrived, Monedowa told his wife\nto prepare certain pieces of meat, which he pointed out to her, together\nwith two or three buds of the birch tree, which he requested her to\nput in the pot. He directed also that the manito should be hospitably\nreceived, as if he had been just the kind-hearted old Indian\nhe professed to be. Monedowa then dressed himself as a warrior,\nembellishing his visage with tints of red to show that he was prepared\nfor either war or peace.\n\nAs soon as the Mudjee Monedo arrived, he eyed this strange warrior whom\nhe had never seen before; but he dissembled, as usual, and with a gentle\nlaugh said to the widow, \"Did I not tell you that some one was staying\nwith you? For I knew your son was too young to hunt.\"\n\nThe widow excused herself by saying that she did not think it necessary\nto tell him, inasmuch as he was a manito and must have known before he\nasked.\n\nThe manito was very pleasant with Monedowa, and after much other\ngentle-spoken discourse, he invited him to the racing-ground, saying it\nwas a manly amusement, that he would have an excellent chance to meet\nthere with other warriors, and that he should himself be pleased to run\nwith him.\n\nMonedowa would have excused himself, saying that he knew nothing of\nrunning.\n\n\"Why,\" replied the Mudjee Monedo, trembling in every limb as he spoke,\n\"don't you see how old I look, while you are young and full of life? We\nmust at least run a little to amuse others.\"\n\n\"Be it so, then,\" replied Monedowa. \"I will oblige you. I will go in the\nmorning.\"\n\nPleased with his crafty success, the manito would have now taken his\nleave, but he was pressed to remain and partake of their hospitality.\nThe meal, consisting of one dish, was immediately prepared.\n\nMonedowa partook of it first, to show his guest that he need fear\nnothing.\n\n\"It is a feast,\" he said, \"and as we seldom meet, we must eat all that\nis placed on the dish, as a mark of gratitude to the Great Spirit,\nnot only for permitting me to kill animals, but also for giving me\nthe pleasure of seeing you and partaking of it with you.\" They ate and\ntalked of this and that, until they had nearly despatched the meal,\nwhen the manito took up the dish and drank off the broth at a breath.\nOn setting it down he immediately turned his head and commenced coughing\nwith great violence. The old body in which he had disguised himself was\nwell-nigh shaken in pieces, for he had, as Monedowa expected, swallowed\na grain of the birch-bud, and this, relished by Monedowa because of\nhis bird nature, greatly distressed the old manito, who partook of the\ncharacter of an animal, or four-footed thing.\n\nHe was at last put to such confusion of face by his constant coughing\nthat he was forced to leave, saying, or rather hiccoughing, as he left\nthe lodge, that he should look for the young man at the racing-ground in\nthe morning.\n\nWhen the morning came, Monedowa was early astir, oiling his limbs and\nenamelling his breast and arms with red and blue, resembling the plumage\nin which he had first appeared to Minda. Upon his brow he placed a tuft\nof feathers of the same shining tints.\n\nBy his invitation his wife, her mother and her brother attended Monedowa\nto the manito's racing-ground.\n\nThe lodge of the manito stood upon a high ground, and near it stretched\nout a long row of other lodges, said to be possessed by wicked kindred\nof Mudjee Monedo, who shared in the spoils of his cruelty.\n\nAs soon as the young hunter and his party approached, the inmates\nappeared at their lodge-doors and cried out:\n\n\"We are visited.\"\n\nAt this cry, the Mudjee Monedo came forth and descended with his\ncompanions to the starting-post on the plain. From this the course could\nbe seen, winding in a long girdle about the lake. As they were now all\nassembled, the old manito began to speak of the race, belting himself up\nand pointing to the post, which was an upright pillar of stone.\n\n\"But before we start,\" said he, \"I wish it to be understood that when\nmen run with me I make a wager, and I expect them to abide by it--life\nagainst life.\"\n\n\"Very well--be it so,\" answered Monedowa. \"Aye shall see whose head is\nto be dashed against the stone.\"\n\n\"Aye shall,\" rejoined the Mudjee Monedo. \"I am very old, but I shall try\nand make a run.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" again rejoined Monedowa; \"I hope we shall both stand to our\nbargain.\"\n\n\"Good!\" said the old manito. And at the same time he cast a sly glance\nat the young hunter and rolled his eyes toward where stood the pillar of\nstone.\n\n\"I am ready,\" said Monedowa.\n\nThe starting shout was given, and they set off at high speed, the manito\nleading and Monedowa pressing closely after. As he closed upon him, the\nold manito began to show his power, and changing himself into a fox he\npassed the young hunter with ease, then went leisurely along.\n\nMonedowa now, with a glance upward, took the shape of the strange bird\nof red and deep-blue plumage, and with one flight, which took him some\ndistance ahead of the manito, resumed his mortal shape.\n\nThe Mudjee Monedo espied his competitor before him. \"Whoa! whoa!\" he\nexclaimed; \"this is strange,\" and he immediately changed himself into a\nwolf and sped past Monedowa.\n\nAs he galloped by, Monedowa heard a noise from his throat and knew that\nhe was still in distress from the birch-bud which he had swallowed.\n\nMonedowa again took wing, and shooting into the air, descended suddenly\nwith great swiftness and took the path far ahead of the old manito.\n\nAs he passed the wolf he whispered in his ear:\n\n\"My friend, is this the extent of your speed?\"\n\nThe manito began to be troubled with bad forebodings, for on looking\nahead he saw the young hunter in his own manly form, running along at\nleisure. The Mudjee Monedo, seeing the necessity of more speed, now\npassed Monedowa in the shape of a deer.\n\nThey were now far around the circle of the lake and fast closing in upon\nthe starting-post, when Monedowa, putting on his red and blue plumage,\nglided along the air and alighted upon the track far in advance.\n\nTo overtake him the old manito assumed the shape of the buffalo; and he\npushed on with such long gallops that he was again the foremost on the\ncourse. The buffalo was the last change he could make, and it was in\nthis form that he had most frequently conquered.\n\nThe young hunter, once more a bird, in the act of passing the manito,\nsaw his tongue lolling from his mouth with fatigue.\n\n\"My friend,\" said Monedowa, \"is this all your speed?\"\n\nThe manito made no answer. Monedowa had resumed his character of a\nhunter and was within a run of the winning-post, when the wicked manito\nhad nearly overtaken him.\n\n\"Bakah! bakah! nejee!\" he called out to Monedowa. \"Stop, my friend, I\nwish to talk to you.\"\n\nMonedowa laughed aloud as he replied:\n\n\"I will speak to you at the starting-post. When men run with me I make a\nwager, and I expect them to abide by it--life against life.\"\n\nOne more flight as the blue and red bird, and Monedowa was so near to\nthe goal that he could easily reach it in his mortal shape. Shining in\nbeauty, his face lighted up like the sky, with tinted arms and bosom\ngleaming in the sun, and the parti-colored plume on his brow waving\nin the wind, Monedowa, cheered by a joyful shout from his own people,\nleaped to the post. The manito came on with fear in his face.\n\n\"My friend,\" he said, \"spare my life\"; and then added in a low voice,\nas if he would not that the others should hear it, \"Let me live.\" And he\nbegan to move off as if the request had been granted.\n\n\"As you have done to others,\" replied Monedowa, \"so shall it be done to\nyou.\"\n\nAnd seizing the wicked manito, he dashed him against the pillar of\nstone. His kindred, who were looking on in horror, raised a cry of fear\nand fled away in a body to some distant land, whence they have never\nreturned.\n\nThe widow's family left the scene, and when they had all come out into\nthe open fields, they walked on together until they had reached the\nfragrant bank and the evergreen wood where the daughter had first\nencountered her bird lover.\n\nMonedowa, turning to her, said:\n\n\"My mother, here we must part. Your daughter and myself must now leave\nyou. The Good Spirit, moved with pity, has allowed me to be your friend.\nI have done that for which I was sent. I am permitted to take with me\nthe one whom I love. I have found your daughter ever kind, gentle and\njust. She shall be my companion. The blessing of the Good Spirit be ever\nwith you. Farewell, my mother--my brother, farewell.\"\n\nWhile the widow woman was still lost in wonder at these words, Monedowa\nand Minda his wife changed at the same moment and rose into the air as\nbeautiful birds, clothed in shining colors of red and blue.\n\nThey caroled together as they flew, and their songs were happy, falling,\nfalling, like clear drops, as the birds rose, and rose, and winged their\nway far upward. A delicious peace came into the mind of the poor widow\nwoman, and she returned to her lodge deeply thankful at heart for all\nthe goodness that had been shown to her by the Master of Life.\n\nFrom that day forth she never knew want. Her young son proved a comfort\nto her lodge, and the tuneful carol of Monedowa and Minda, as it fell\nfrom heaven, was a music always sounding peace and joy in her ear, go\nwhither she would.\n\n\n\n\nXXII. BOKWEWA, THE HUMPBACK\n\n\n|BOKWEWA and his brother lived in a far-off part of the country. By\nthose who knew them, Bokwewa, the elder, although deformed and feeble of\nperson, was considered a manito who had assumed mortal shape; while\nhis younger brother, Kwasynd, manly in appearance, active, and strong,\npartook of the nature of the present race of beings.\n\nThey lived off the path, in a wild, lonesome place. Far retired from\nneighbors and undisturbed by cares,' they passed their time content and\nhappy. The days glided by as serenely as the river that flowed by their\nlodge.\n\nOwing to his lack of strength, Bokwewa never engaged in the chase but\ngave his attention entirely to the affairs of the lodge. In the long\nwinter evenings he passed the time in telling his brother stories of the\ngiants, spirits, weendigoes, and fairies of the older age, who in those\ndays had the exclusive charge of the world. He also at times taught his\nbrother the manner in which game should be pursued, pointed out to him\nthe ways of the different beasts and birds of the chase, and assigned\nthe seasons at which they could be hunted with most success.\n\nFor a while the brother was eager to learn and keenly attended to his\nduties as the provider of the lodge; but at length he grew weary of\ntheir tranquil life and began to have a desire to show himself among\nmen. He became restive in their retirement and was seized with a longing\nto visit remote places.\n\nOne day Kwasynd told his brother that he should leave him; that he\nwished to visit the habitations of men and to procure a wife.\n\nBokwewa objected; but his brother overruled all that he said, and in\nspite of every remonstrance, he departed on his travels.\n\nHe traveled for a long time. At length he fell in with the footsteps of\nmen. They were moving by encampments, for he saw the poles at several\nspots where they had passed. It was winter; and coming to a place where\none of their company had died, he found upon a scatfold, lying at length\nin the cold blue air, the body of a beautiful young woman.\n\n\"She shall be my wife!\" exclaimed Kwasynd.\n\nHe lifted her up, and bearing her in his arms, he returned to his\nbrother.\n\n\"Brother,\" he said, \"cannot you restore her to life? Oh, do me that\nfavor!\"\n\nHe looked upon the beautiful maiden with a longing gaze; but she lay as\ncold and silent as when he had found her upon the scatfold.\n\n\"I will try,\" said Bokwewa.\n\nThese words had been scarcely breathed, when the young woman rose up,\nopened her eyes, and looked upon Bokwewa with a smile, as if she had\nknown him before.\n\nTo Kwasynd she paid no heed whatever. But presently Bokwewa, seeing how\nshe lingered in her gaze upon himself, said to her, \"Sister, that is\nyour husband,\" pointing to Kwasynd.\n\nShe listened to his voice, and crossing the lodge, sat by Kwasynd, and\nthey were man and wife.\n\nFor a long time they all lived contentedly together. Bokwewa was very\nkind to his brother and sought to render his days happy. He was ever\nwithin the lodge, seeking to have it in readiness against the return of\nKwasynd from the hunt. And by following his directions, which were\nthose of one deeply skilled in the chase, Kwasynd always succeeded in\nreturning with a good store of meat.\n\nBut the charge of the two brothers was greatly lightened by the presence\nof the spirit-wife; for without labor of the hand she ordered the lodge,\nand as she willed everything took its place and was at once in proper\narray. The wish of her heart seemed to control whatever she looked upon,\nand all obeyed her desire.\n\nBut to the surprise of her husband, she never partook of food, or shared\nin any way the longings and appetites of a mortal creature. She was\nnever seen arranging her hair, like other women, nor did she work upon\nher garments, and yet they were ever seemly and without blemish or\ndisorder.\n\nBehold her at any hour, she was ever beautiful, and she seemed to need\nno ornament, or nourishment, or other aid, to give grace or strength to\nher looks.\n\nKwasynd, when the first wonder of her ways had passed, paid little\nheed to her discourse; he was engrossed with the hunt, and chose to\nbe abroad, pursuing the wild game, or when in the lodge, enjoying its\nsavory spoil, rather than the society of his spirit-wife.\n\nBut Bokwewa watched closely every word that fell from her lips, and\noften in conferring with her, forgot all mortal appetite and care of the\nbody, noting what she had to say of spirits and fairies, of stars,\nand streams that never ceased to flow, the delight of the happy\nhunting-grounds, and the groves of the blessed.\n\nOne day Kwasynd had gone out as usual, and Bokwewa was sitting in the\nlodge on the opposite side to his brother's wife, when a tall youth\nentered. His face was like the sun in its brightness, and he stood\nstraight as a cedar tree. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the\ndoor.\n\nThe woman made no resistance, but turned as she left the lodge and cast\nupon Bokwewa a smile of kind regard. Then saying, \"I must leave you,\"\nshe was at once gone from his view, with her companion.\n\nHe ran to the door, and looking far off in the sky, thought that he\ncould discover, at a great distance, a shining track, and the dim\nfigures of two who were vanishing into the clouds.\n\nWhen his brother returned, Bokwewa related all to him exactly as it had\nhappened.\n\nThe face of Ivwasynd changed and was dark as the night. For several days\nhe would not taste food. Sometimes he would fall to weeping for a\nlong time, and now for the first time seemed to realise how gentle and\nbeautiful had been the ways of her who was lost. At last he said that he\nwould go in search of her.\n\nBokwewa tried to dissuade him from it; but he would not be turned aside\nfrom his purpose.\n\n\"Since you are resolved,\" said Bokwewa, \"listen to my advice. You will\nhave to go South. It is a long distance to the present abiding-place of\nyour wife, and there are so many charms and temptations by the way that\nI fear you will be led astray and forget your errand. The people whom\nyou will see in the country through which you have to pass, do nothing\nbut amuse themselves. They are very idle, gay and effeminate, and I fear\nthat they will lead you astray. Your path is beset with dangers. I will\nmention two things which you must be especially on your guard against.\n\n\"In the course of your journey you will come to a large grape-vine\nlying across your path. You must not even taste its fruit, for it is\npoisonous. Step over it. It is a snake. You will nest come to something\nthat looks like bear's fat, of which you are so fond. Touch it not, or\nyou will be overcome by the soft habits of the idle people. It is frog's\neggs. These are snares laid by the way for you.\"\n\nKwasynd promised that he would observe the advice, and bidding his\nbrother farewell, he set out. After traveling a long time he came to the\nenchanted grape-vine. It looked so tempting, with its swelling purple\nclusters, that he forgot his brother's warning and tried the fruit.\nThen he went on till he came to the frog's eggs. They so much resembled\ndelicious bear's fat that Kwasynd tasted them. He still went on.\n\nAt length he came to a wide plain. As he emerged from the forest the sun\nwas falling in the west, and cast its scarlet and golden shades far over\nthe country. The air was perfectly calm, and the whole prospect had the\nair of an enchanted land. Fruits and flowers and delicate blossoms lured\nthe eye and delighted the senses.\n\nAt a distance he beheld a large village, swarming with people, and as he\ndrew near he discovered women beating corn in silver mortars.\n\nWhen they saw Kwasynd approaching, they cried out:\n\n\"Bokwewa's brother has come to see us.\"\n\nThrongs of men and women in bright apparel hurried out to meet him.\n\nHaving already yielded to temptation by the way, he was soon overcome by\ntheir fair looks and soft speeches; and it was not long afterward that\nhe was seen beating corn with the women, having entirely abandoned all\nfurther quest for his lost wife.\n\nMeantime, Bokwewa, alone in the lodge, waited patiently his brother's\nreturn. After the lapse of several years he set out in search of him,\nand he arrived in safety among the soft and idle people of the South. He\nhad met the same allurements by the way, and the people gathered around\nhim on his coming just as they had around his brother Kwasynd; but\nBokwewa was proof against their flattery. He only grieved in his heart\nthat any should yield.\n\nHe shed tears of pity to see that his brother had laid aside the arms\nof a hunter, and that he was beating corn with the women, indifferent to\nthe fate and the fortune of his lost wife.\n\nBokwewa ascertained that she had passed on to a country beyond.\n\nAfter deliberating for a time and spending several days in a severe\nfast, he set out in the direction in which she had gone.\n\nIt was far off, but Bokwewa had a stout heart; and strong in the faith\nthat he was now on the broad path toward the happy land, he pressed\nforward. For many days he traveled without encountering anything\nunusual. Then plains of vast extent, rich in waving grass, began to pass\nbefore his eyes. He saw many beautiful groves and beard the songs of\ncountless birds.\n\nAt length he began to fail in strength for lack of food; when he\nsuddenly reached a high ground. From this he caught the first glimpse of\nthe other land. But it appeared to be still far off, and all the country\nbetween, partly veiled in silvery mists, glittered with lakes\nand streams of water. As he pressed on, Bok-wewa came in sight of\ninnumerable herds of stately deer, moose, and other animals which walked\nnear his path, and they appeared to have no fear of man.\n\nAnd now again as he wound about in his course, and faced the north once\nmore, he beheld coming toward him an immense number of men, women, and\nchildren, pressing forward in the direction of the shining land.\n\nIn this vast throng Bokwewa beheld persons of every age, from the little\ninfant, the sweet and lovely penaisee, or younger son, to the feeble,\ngray old man, stooping under the burden of his years.\n\nAll whom Bokwewa met, of every name and degree, were heavily laden with\npipes, weapons, bows, arrows, kettles and other wares and implements.\n\nOne man stopped him and complained of the weary load he was carrying.\nAnother offered him a kettle; another his bow and arrows; but he\ndeclined all, and, free of foot, hastened on.\n\nAnd now he met women who were carrying their basket-work and painted\npaddles, and little boys with their embellished war-clubs and bows and\narrows, the gifts of their friends.\n\nWith this mighty throng, Bokwewa was borne along for two days and\nnights, when he arrived at a country so still and shining, and so\nbeautiful in its woods and groves and plains, that he knew it was here\nthat he should find the lost spirit-wife.\n\nHe had scarcely entered this fair country, with a sense of home and the\nreturn to things familiar strong upon him, when there appeared before\nhim the lost spirit-wife herself, who, taking him by the hand, gave him\nwelcome, saying:\n\n\"My brother, I am glad to see you. Welcome! welcome! You are now in your\nnative land! Here you shall dwell in peace and plenty all your days.\"\n\nThen Bokwewa, finding himself no longer misshapen and awkward, but\nstrong and straight, followed her into the lodge.\n\n[Illustration: 0314]\n\n\n\n\nXXIII. THE LITTLE BOY-MAN\n\n\n|A BOY remarkable for the smallness of his stature lived alone with his\nsister in a little lodge on a lake shore. Around their habitation were\nscattered many large rocks, and it had a very wild and out-of-the-way\nlook.\n\nThe boy grew no larger as he advanced in years, and yet, small as he\nwas, he had a big spirit of his own and loved dearly to play the master\nin the lodge. One day in winter he told his sister to make him a ball to\nplay with, as he meant to have some sport along the shore on the clear\nice. When she handed him the ball, his sister cautioned him not to go\ntoo.\n\nHe laughed at her and posted off in high glee, throwing his ball before\nhim and running after it at full speed; and he went as fast as his ball.\nAt last the ball flew to a great distance, and he after it. When he had\nrun forward for some time, he saw what seemed four dark spots upon the\nice straight before him.\n\nWhen he came up to the shore he was surprised to see four large, tall\nmen lying on the ice, spearing fish. They were four brothers, who looked\nexactly alike.\n\nAs the little boy-man approached them, the nearest looked up, and in his\nturn was surprised to see such a tiny being. Turning to his brothers, he\nsaid:\n\n\"Tia! look! see what a little fellow is here.\"\n\nThe three others thereupon looked up, too, and seeing these four faces,\nas alike as if they had been one, the little spirit or boy-man said to\nhimself:\n\n\"Four in one! What a time they must have in choosing their\nhunting-shirts!\"\n\nAfter they had all stared for a moment at the boy, they covered their\nheads, intent in searching for fish. The boy thought to himself:\n\n\"These four-faces fancy that I am to be put off without notice because I\nam so little and they are so broad and long. They shall find out. I may\nfind a way to teach them that I am not to be treated so lightly.\"\n\nAfter the men were covered up, the boy-man, looking sharply about, saw\nthat among them they had caught one large trout, which was lying just by\ntheir side. Stealing along, he slyly seized it, and placing his fingers\nin the gills and tossing his ball before him, he ran off at full speed.\n\nThey heard the pattering of his little steps upon the ice, and when the\nfour looked up all together, they saw their fine trout sliding away at a\ngreat rate, as if of itself, the boy being so small that he could not be\ndistinguished from the fish.\n\n\"See!\" they cried out, \"our fish is running away on the dry land!\"\n\nWhen they stood up they could just see, over the fish's head, that it\nwas the boy-man who was carrying it off.\n\nThe little spirit reached the lodge, and having left the trout at the\ndoor, he told his sister to go out and bring in the fish he had brought\nhome.\n\nShe exclaimed, \"Where could you have got it? I hope you have not stolen\nit. '7\n\n\"Oh,\" he replied, \"I found it on the ice. It was caught in our lake.\nHave we no right to a little lake of our own? I shall claim all the fish\nthat come out of its waters.\"\n\n\"How,\" the sister asked again, \"could you have got it there?\"\n\n\"No matter,\" said the boy; \"go and cook it.\"\n\nIt was as much as the girl could do to drag the great trout within\ndoors. Then she cooked it, and its flavor was so delicious that she\nasked no more questions as to how he had come by it.\n\nThe next morning the little spirit or boy-man set off as he had the day\nbefore.\n\nHe made all sorts of sport with his ball as he frolicked along--high\nover his head he would toss it; straight up into the air; then far\nbefore him; and again, in mere merriment of spirit, he would send it\nbounding back, as if he had plenty of speed and enough to spare in\nrunning back after it. And the ball leaped and bounced about and glided\nthrough the air as if it were a live thing, enjoying the sport as much\nas the boy-man himself.\n\nWhen he came within hail of the four large men, who were fishing there\nevery day, he cast his ball with such force that it rolled into the\nice-hole about which they were busy. The boy, standing on the shore of\nthe lake, called out:\n\n\"Four-in-one, pray hand me my ball.\"\n\n\"No, indeed,\" they answered, setting up a grim laugh which curdled\ntheir four dark faces all at once, \"we will not\"; and with their\nfishing-spears they thrust the ball under the ice.\n\n\"Good!\" said the boy-man, \"we shall see.\"\n\nSaying which he rushed upon the four brothers and thrust them at one\npush into the water. His ball bounded back to the surface, and, picking\nit up, he ran off, tossing it before him in his own sportive way.\nOutstripping it in speed, he soon reached home and remained within till\nthe next morning.\n\nThe four brothers, rising up from the water at the same time, dripping\nand wroth, roared out in one voice a terrible threat of vengeance, which\nthey promised to execute the next day. They knew the boy's speed, and\nthat they could by no means overtake him.\n\nBetimes in the morning, the four brothers were stirring in their lodge\nand getting ready to look after their revenge.\n\nTheir old mother, who lived with them, begged them not to go.\n\n\"Better,\" said she, \"now that your clothes are dry, to think no more of\nthe ducking, than to go and all four of you get your heads broken, as\nyou surely will; for that boy is a monedo or he could not perform such\nfeats as he does.\"\n\nHer sons, however, paid no heed to this wise advice. Raising a great\nwar-cry, which frightened the birds overhead nearly out of their\nfeathers, they started for the boy's lodge among the rocks.\n\nThe little spirit or boy-man heard them roaring forth their threats as\nthey approached, but he did not appear to be disquieted in the least.\nHis sister as yet had heard nothing; after a while she thought she\ncould distinguish the noise of snowshoes on the snow, at a distance, but\nrapidly advancing. She looked out, and seeing the four large men\ncoming straight to their lodge she was in great fear. Running in, she\nexclaimed:\n\n\"He is coming, four times as strong as ever!\" for | she supposed that\nthe one man whom her brother had offended had become so angry as to make\nfour of himself in order to wreak his vengeance.\n\nThe boy-man said, \"Why do you mind them? Give me something to eat.\"\n\n\"How can you think of eating at such a time?\" she replied.\n\n\"Do as I request you, and be quick.\"\n\nShe then gave the little spirit his dish, and he commenced eating.\n\nJust then the brothers came to the door.\n\n\"See!\" cried the sister, \"the man with four heads!\"\n\nThe brothers were about to lift the curtain at the door, when the\nboy-man turned his dish upside down, and immediately the door was closed\nwith a stone. The four brothers set to work upon this and hammered with\ntheir clubs with great fury, until at length they succeeded in making\na slight opening. One of the brothers presented his face at this little\nwindow and rolled his eye about at the boy-man in a very threatening\nway.\n\nThe little spirit, who, when he had closed the door, had returned to his\nmeal and gone on quietly eating, took up his bow and arrow which lay by\nhis side, and let fly the shaft. It struck the man in the head, and he\nfell back. The boy-man merely called out, \"Number one,\" as he fell, and\nwent on with his meal.\n\nIn a moment a second face, just like the first, presented itself; and as\nhe raised his bow, his sister said to him:\n\n\"What is the use? You have killed that man already.\"\n\nLittle spirit fired his arrow--the man fell--he called out, \"Number\ntwo,\" and continued his meal.\n\nThe two others of the four brothers were despatched in the same quiet\nway and counted off as \"Number three\" and \"Number four.\"\n\nAfter they were all well disposed of in this way, the boy-man directed\nhis sister to go ont and see them. She presently ran back, saying:\n\n\"There are four of them.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" the boy-man answered, \"and there always shall be four of\nthem.\"\n\nGoing out himself, the boy-man raised the brothers to their feet, and\ngiving each a push, one with his face to the East, another to the West,\na third to the South, and the last to the North, he sent them off to\nwander about the earth; and whenever you see four men just alike, they\nare the four brothers whom the little spirit or boy-man despatched upon\ntheir travels.\n\nBut this was not the last display of the boy-man's power.\n\nWhen spring came on, and the lake began to sparkle in the morning sun,\nthe boy-man said to his sister: \"Make me a new set of arrows and a\nbow.\" Although he provided for their support, the little spirit never\nperformed household or hard work of any kind, and his sister obeyed.\n\nWhen she had made the weapons, which, though they were very small,\nwere beautifully wrought and of the best stuff the field and wood could\nfurnish, she again cautioned him not to shoot into the lake.\n\n\"She thinks,\" said the boy-man to himself, \"I can see no farther into\nthe water than she. My sister shall learn better.\"\n\nRegardless of her warnings, he on purpose discharged a shaft into the\nlake and waded out into the water till he got to its depth. Then he\npaddled about for his arrow, so as to call the attention of his sister,\nas if to show that he hardily braved her advice.\n\nShe hurried to the shore, calling on him to return; but instead of\nheeding her, he cried out:\n\n\"You of the red fins, come and swallow me!\" Although his sister did not\nclearly understand whom her brother was addressing, she too called out:\n\"Don't mind the foolish boy!\"\n\nThe boy-man's order seemed to be best attended to, for immediately a\nmonstrous fish came and swallowed him. Before disappearing entirely,\ncatching a glimpse of his sister standing in despair upon the shore, the\nboy-man hallooed out to her:\n\n\"Me-zush-ke-zin-ance!\"\n\nShe wondered what he meant. At last it occurred to her that it must be\nan old moccasin. She accordingly ran to the lodge, brought a moccasin,\ntied it to a string attached to a tree, and quickly cast it into the\nwater.\n\nThe great fish said to the boy-man under water: \"What is that floating?\"\n\nTo which the boy-man replied:\n\n\"Go, take hold of it, swallow it as fast as you can; it is a great\ndelicacy.\"\n\nThe fish darted toward the old shoe and swallowed it, making of it a\nmere mouthful.\n\nThe boy-man laughed to himself but said nothing, till the fish was\nfairly caught; when he took hold of the line and began to pull himself\nashore in his fish-carriage.\n\nThe sister, who was watching all this time, opened wide her eyes as the\nhuge fish came up and up upon the shore; and she opened them still\nmore when the fish seemed to speak, and she heard from within a voice,\nsaying, \"Make haste and release me from this nasty place.\"\n\nIt was her brother's voice, which she was accustomed to obey; and she\nmade haste with her knife to open a door in the side of the fish, from\nwhich the boy-man presently leaped forth. He lost no time in ordering\nher to cut up the fish and dry it; telling her that their spring supply\nof meat was now provided.\n\nThe sister now began to believe that her brother was an extraordinary\nboy; yet she was not altogether satisfied in her mind that he was\ngreater than the rest of the world.\n\nThey sat one evening in the lodge, musing with each other in the dark,\nby the light of each other's eyes, when the sister said:\n\n\"My brother, it is strange that you, who can do so much, are no wiser\nthan the Ko-ko, who gets all his light from the moon; which shines or\nnot, as it pleases.\"\n\n\"And is not that light enough?\" asked the little spirit.\n\n\"Quite enough,\" the sister replied. \"If it would but come within the\nlodge and not sojourn out in the tree-tops and among the clouds.\"\n\n\"We will have a light of our own, sister,\" said the boy-man; and,\ncasting himself upon a mat by the door, he commenced singing:=\n\n```Fire-fly, fire-fly, bright little thing,\n\n```Light me to bed and my song I will sing;\n\n```Give me your light, as you fly o'er my head,\n\n```That I may merrily go to my bed.=\n\n```Give me your light o'er the grass as you creep,\n\n```That I may joyfully go to my sleep;\n\n```Come, little fire-fly, come little beast,\n\n```Come! and I'll make you to-morrow a feast.=\n\n```Come, little candle, that flies as I sing,\n\n```Bright little fairy-bug, night's little king;\n\n```Come and I'll dream, as you guide me along;\n\n```Come and I'll pay you, my bug, with a song.=\n\nAs the boy-man chanted this call, the fire-flies came into the lodge,\nfirst one by one, then in couples, till at last, swarming in little\narmies, they lighted the lodge with a thousand sparkling lamps, just as\nthe stars were lighting the mighty hollow of the sky without.\n\nThe faces of the sister and brother shone upon each other from their\nopposite sides of the lodge with a kindly gleam of mutual trustfulness;\nand never more from that hour did a doubt of each other darken their\nlittle household.\n\n\n\n\nXXIV. WUNZH, THE FATHER OF INDIAN CORN\n\n\n|IN time past--we cannot tell exactly how many, many years ago--a poor\nIndian was living with his wife and children in a beautiful part of the\ncountry. He was not only poor, but he had the misfortune to be inexpert\nin procuring food for his family, and his children were all too young to\ngive him any assistance.\n\nAlthough of a lowly condition and straitened in his circumstances, he\nwas a man of kind and contented disposition. He was always thankful to\nthe Great Spirit for everything he received. He even stood in the door\nof his lodge to bless the birds that flew past in the summer evenings;\nalthough, if he had been of a complaining temper, he might have repined\nthat they were not rather spread upon the table for his evening meal.\n\nThe same gracious and sweet disposition was inherited by his eldest son,\nwho had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the ceremony of the\nfast to learn what kind of a spirit would be his guide and guardian\nthrough life.\n\nWunzh, for this was his name, had been an obedient boy from his\ninfancy--pensive, thoughtful, and gentle--so that he was beloved by the\nwhole family.\n\nAs soon as the first buds of spring appeared and the delicious fragrance\nof the young year began to sweeten the air, his father, with the help\nof his younger brothers, built for Wunzh the customary little lodge at\na retired spot some distance from their own, where he would not be\ndisturbed during the solemn rite.\n\nTo prepare himself, Wunzh sought to clear his heart of every evil\nthought and to think of nothing that was not good, and beautiful, and\nkindly.\n\nThat he might store his mind with pleasant ideas for his dreams, for the\nfirst few days he amused himself by walking in the woods and over the\nmountains, examining the early plants and flowers.\n\nAs he rambled far and wide through the wild country, he felt a strong\ndesire to know how the plants and herbs and berries grew, without any\naid from man, and why it was that some kinds were good to eat, and that\nothers were possessed of medicinal or poisonous power.\n\nAfter he had become too languid from fasting to walk about, and confined\nhimself strictly to the lodge, he recalled these thoughts. Turning them\nin his mind, he wished he could dream of something that would prove\na benefit to his father and family, and to all others of his\nfellow-creatures.\n\n\"True,\" thought Wunzh, \"the Great Spirit made all things, and it is to\nhim that we owe our lives. Could he not make it easier for us to get our\nfood than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try to find this\nout in my visions.\"\n\nOn the third day Yfunzh became weak and faint, and lay flat in a kind\nof stupor. Suddenly he fancied that a bright light came in at the\nlodge door, and ere he was aware, he saw a handsome young man, with a\ncomplexion of the softest and purest white, coming down from the sky and\nadvancing toward him.\n\nThe beautiful stranger was richly and gaily dressed, having on a great\nmany garments of green and yellow colors, but differing in their deeper\nor lighter shades. He had a plume of waving feathers on his head, and\nall his motions were graceful, reminding Wunzh of the deep green of the\nsummer grass, the clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle blowing\nof the summer wind. As Wunzh gazed at his visitor, he paused on a little\nmound of earth just before the door of the lodge.\n\n\"I am sent to you, my friend,\" said this celestial visitor, in a voice\nmost soft and musical to listen to, \"I am sent to you by that Great\nSpirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has seen\nand knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and\nbenevolent wish to do good to your people and to procure a benefit for\nthem; and that you do not seek for strength in war, or the praise of the\nmen of the bloody hand. So I am sent to instruct you and to show you how\nyou can do your kindred good.\"\n\nHe then told Wunzh to arise and to prepare to wrestle with him, as it\nwas only by this means that he could hope to succeed in his desires.\n\nWunzh knew how weak he was from fasting, but the voice of the stranger\nwas cheery and put such a courage in his heart, that he promptly sprang\nup, determined to die rather than fail.\n\nHe began the trial, and after a long-sustained struggle, was almost\noverpowered, when the beautiful stranger said:\n\n\"My friend, it is enough for once; I will come again to try you,\" and\nsmiling on him, he returned through the air in the same direction in\nwhich he had come.\n\nThe next day, although Wunzh saw how sweetly the wild-flowers bloomed\nupon the slopes and the birds warbled from the woodland, he longed to\nsee the celestial visitor and to hear his voice.\n\nTo his great joy he reappeared at the same hour, toward the going down\nof the sun, and re-challenged Wunzh to a trial of strength.\n\nThe brave Wunzh felt that his strength of body was even less than on the\nday before, but the courage of his mind seemed to grow. Observing this,\nand how Wunzh put his whole heart into the struggle, the stranger again\nspoke to him in the words he used before, adding:\n\n\"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is\nthe only way in which you can overcome me and obtain the boon you seek.\"\n\nThe light which shone after him as he left Wunzh was brighter than\nbefore.\n\nOn the third day he came again and renewed the struggle. Very faint\nin body was poor Wunzh, but he was stronger at heart than ever, and\ndetermined to prevail now or perish. He put forth his utmost powers,\nand after a contest more severe than either of the others, the stranger\nceased his efforts and declared himself conquered.\n\nFor the first time he entered Wunzh's little fasting-lodge, and sitting\ndown beside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to him and\nto inform him in what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his\nvictory.\n\n\"You have won your desire of the Great Spirit,\" said the beautiful\nstranger. \"You have wrestled manfully. To-morrow will be the seventh day\nof your fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and\nas it is the last day of trial you will prevail. I know this, and\nnow tell you what you must do to benefit your family and your people.\nTo-morrow,\" he repeated, \"I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the\nlast time. As soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off\nmy garments and throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make\nit soft, and bury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my\nbody in the earth and do not disturb it, but come at times to visit\nthe place, to see whether I have come to life, and above all be careful\nnever to let the grass or weeds grow upon my grave. Once a month cover\nme with fresh earth. If you follow these my instructions you will\naccomplish your object of doing good to your fellow-creatures by\nteaching them the knowledge I now teach you.\"\n\nHe then shook Wunzh by the hand and disappeared, but he was gone so soon\nthat Wunzh could not tell what direction he took.\n\nIn the morning, Wunzh's father came to his lodge with some slight\nrefreshments, saying:\n\n\"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will favor\nyou, he will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and\nyou must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require\nthat.\"\n\n\"My father,\" replied Wunzh, \"wait till the sun goes down. I have a\nparticular reason for extending my fast to that hour.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the old man, \"I shall wait till the hour arrives, and\nyou shall be inclined to eat.\"\n\nAt his usual hour of appearing, the beautiful sky-visitor returned, and\nthe trial of strength was renewed. Although he had not availed himself\nof his father's offer of food, Wunzh felt that new strength had been\ngiven him. His heart was mighty within him to achieve some great\npurpose. Within the bosom of the brave Wunzh courage was like the eagle\nthat spreads his wings within the tree-top for a great flight.\n\nHe grasped his challenger with supernatural strength, threw him down,\nand, mindful of his instructions, tore away his beautiful garments and\nplume. Finding him dead, he immediately buried him on the spot, using\nall the precautions he had been told of, and very confident was Wunzh,\nall the time, that his friend would again come to life.\n\nWunzh now returned to his father's lodge, where he was warmly welcomed.\nFor as it had been appointed to him during the days of his fasting to\nwalk apart, he had not been permitted to see any human face save that of\nhis father, the representative to the little household upon earth of the\ngreat Father of all people.\n\nWunzh partook sparingly of the meal that had been prepared for him, and\nonce more mingled in the cares and sports of the family. But he never\nfor a moment forgot the grave of his friend. He carefully visited it\nthroughout the spring, weeded out the grass, and kept the ground in a\nsoft and pliant state; and sometimes, when the brave Wunzh thought of\nhis friend that was gone from his sight, he dropped a tear upon the\nearth where he lay.\n\nWatching and tending and moistening the earth with his tears, it was\nnot long before Wunzh saw the tops of green plumes coming through the\nground; and the more faithful he was in obeying his instructions in\nkeeping the ground in order and in cherishing the memory of his friend,\nthe faster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal all these\nthings from his father.\n\nDays and weeks had passed in this way; the summer was drawing toward a\nclose, when one day Wunzh invited his father to follow him to the quiet\nand lonesome spot of his former fast.\n\nThe little fasting-lodge had been removed and the weeds kept from\ngrowing on the circle where it had stood; but in its place rose a tall\nand graceful plant, surmounted with nodding plumes, stately leaves, and\ngolden clusters. There was in its aspect and bearing the deep green\nof the summer grass, the clear amber of the summer sky, and the gentle\nblowing of the summer wind.\n\n\"It is my friend!\" shouted Wunzh, \"it is the friend of all mankind. It\nis Mondawmin: it is our Indian Corn! We need no longer rely on hunting\nalone, for as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the\nground itself will give us a living.\"\n\nHe then pulled an ear.\n\n\"See, my father,\" said he, \"this is what I fasted for. The Great Spirit\nhas listened to my voice and sent us something new. Henceforth our\npeople will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters.\"\n\nWunzh then communicated to his father the instructions given to him by\nthe stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he\nhad pulled off the stranger's garments in his wrestling. Then he showed\nhim how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer skin becomes\nbrown, while all the milk is retained in the grain.\n\nThe whole family, in high spirits and deeply grateful, assisted in a\nfeast on the newly grown ears of corn.\n\nSo came that mighty blessing into the world, and we owe all of those\nbeautiful fields of healthful grain to the dream of the brave boy Wunzh.\n\n\nTHE END","title":"The Indian Fairy Book: From the Original Legends","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":73406}