{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_65355/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_65355","id":"gutenberg_65355","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65355","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Short Stories","Indians of North America -- Folklore -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"[Illustration: \u201cWHAT ARE YOU DOING?\u201d ASKED THE BRIDEGROOM]\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n  LOST GIANT\n  AND OTHER AMERICAN INDIAN TALES RETOLD\n\n  STORIES AND PICTURES\n  by\n  Violet Moore Higgins\n  Author of \u201cThe Endless Story\u201d, \u201cThe Little Juggler\u201d, etc.\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.\n  RACINE, WISCONSIN\n\n\n\n\n  COPYRIGHTED, 1918 BY\n  WHITMAN PUBLISHING CO.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n  THE LOST GIANT                11\n\n  THE FEATHERED BRIDEGROOM      27\n\n  MANDOWMIN OF THE MAIZE        41\n\n  AWAHNEE AND THE GIANT         57\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n  \u201cWHAT ARE YOU DOING?\u201d ASKED THE BRIDEGROOM   (_frontispiece in color_)\n\n  DECORATIVE TITLE PAGE                                                1\n\n  HE SWUNG THE CHILD ALOFT ON HIS SHOULDER                            13\n\n  THEY CAME FLYING OUT OF THE BAG (_color_)                           16\n\n  THE FAMILY SAT BEFORE ITS TENT                                      28\n\n  SHE BADE HIM WELCOME TO HER LODGE (_color_)                         32\n\n  AS TALL AS A MAN IT STOOD                                           42\n\n  THE NEXT DAY THE YOUNG BRAVE APPEARED (_color_)                     49\n\n  HE CARRIED WATER IN A GOURD                                         55\n\n\n\n\n  To My Beloved Father\n\n  who was always ready with an answer to\n  those questions of childhood: \u201cDid\n  you ever see a \u2018really-truly\u2019\n  Indian?\u201d and \u201cWill you\n  tell me about when\n  you were a little\n  boy?\u201d V.M.H.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nAmong the Indians who used to roam over our Western prairies in such\nvast numbers, story telling was of the greatest importance. From the\nopening of spring, through the summer, and far into the fall, the men\nand older boys of the tribe were out each day hunting the deer in the\nhills and the buffalo on the plains or spearing fish in the streams.\nThe women and girls meantime were occupied with their household duties\nabout the tepees.\n\nBut at last came the long winter months when game was scarce, and the\nold trails were covered with a blanket of snow. Then the Indians would\nretreat to the snug wigwams, and there await the coming of spring\nagain. They had no books to read or newspapers and magazines with which\nto while away those long winter days, and life would have been dull\nindeed had it not been for their ability to tell stories to each other.\n\nThey never lacked material out of which to build those tales. Each bird\nand beast, each herb and flower; in fact, every living thing that\nran, or crawled, or flew about their native forests was known to the\nIndians. They studied the habits of the wild creatures to an extent\nthat we might well follow.\n\nThen there were other forces that entered into their lives and stories.\nIn the flash of lightning from a dark cloud, in the roll of thunder, in\nthe rush of wind, or in the roar of waters tumbling over a cliff into\nthe river below, they heard the voice of the Great Spirit, unseen but\npowerful.\n\nAnd so all their legends were woven around these things and were full\nof strange incidents that had happened to them on their hunting trips.\nMany included adventures that had been related by their fathers and\ngrandfathers around the winter camp fires years and years before.\n\nLet us imagine that we, too, are curled up comfortably on a deer-skin\nin a chief\u2019s tepee, close beside the glowing campfire, whose flames\ncast a ruddy light on the circle of dark faces all about it, especially\non that of the chief who, pipe in hand, is just about to relate some of\nthese old legends of the American Indians.\n\n                                                                V. M. H.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe Lost Giant\n\n\nOnce upon a time, far back in the days when the elk, the moose, and the\nbuffalo roamed over the hills and plains of North America, and little\nIndian children could call all the animals by name, there lived among\none of the northern tribes a very unhappy little boy named Wasewahto.\n\nHis mother had been a chieftain\u2019s daughter, but she had died when the\nboy was a mere baby. His father had taken another wife, Wapiti--\u201cthe\nelk\u201d--so called by reason of her large ugly head. Wasewahto\u2019s father\nwas dead now, too, and the little boy lived alone with his stepmother,\nwho had no love for him and treated him very badly. He was too small to\nhunt and fish for his own food, and often Wapiti refused to share hers\nwith him, giving him only a few bones to gnaw.\n\nOne day she rolled up her belongings into a bundle and, without a word\nto Wasewahto, went away. Two days passed without a sign of her return.\nThen the little boy, hungry and frightened, sat down before his tent\nand cried bitterly.\n\n[Illustration: HE SWUNG THE CHILD ALOFT ON HIS SHOULDER]\n\nAs he sat there sobbing and crying he felt the earth quiver beneath\nhim, and looking up, he saw through his tears, a giant Indian who\ntowered up to the very tree tops.\n\n\u201cWhy are you crying?\u201d asked the giant in a voice like distant thunder.\n\n\u201cBecause I am all alone,\u201d answered Wasewahto. \u201cMy stepmother has been\ngone two days and I have no food.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are the stepson of Wapiti?\u201d asked the giant. The little boy\nnodded, and the giant continued: \u201cThen she will never come back--she\nhas gone to another tribe. Come home with me.\u201d And he swung the child\naloft on his big broad shoulder. Away they went to the giant\u2019s wigwam,\nand there Wasewahto lived happily for many moons.\n\nBut one night the giant had a dream, in which the spirit of Wasewahto\u2019s\nfather appeared to him, and told him to return the boy to his\nstepmother. The dream was so vivid that it troubled him, and he began\nto break camp the next morning, and prepare for a march.\n\nBut when Wasewahto heard what his friend proposed to do, he cried and\ncried, and clung to the giant, and begged him not to go, but the big\nman was still worried over his dream, and insisted upon going.\n\n\u201cBut I will not leave you unless I find a tribe which will be kind to\nyou,\u201d he said at last, as they were starting, and with that promise\nWasewahto had to be satisfied. The giant swung the boy to his shoulder\nand set out.\n\nAfter four days\u2019 travel they reached a strange camp, and here they\nfound Wapiti. She was furiously angry when she saw the boy, but a fear\nof the giant kept her silent. When he had told her his dream, she too\nfelt uneasy, and pretended to welcome Wasewahto. But when the giant\nleft him with his stepmother, and prepared to leave, the child sobbed\nand cried so hard and pleaded so earnestly with his friend to stay and\nlive near him, that the big man paused.\n\n\u201cI will stay if the tribe will have me,\u201d he said at last, and no one\ndared refuse. When they had given their consent the giant said: \u201cI\nwill work for the tribe--I will hunt and fish and fight--but one thing\nyou must promise me. Never give me otter\u2019s flesh to eat or I will go\naway and never return.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: IN ANOTHER INSTANT THEY CAME FLYING OUT OF THE BAG]\n\nSo the tribe promised, and little Wasewahto was happy. The giant taught\nhim to hunt and fish, so that never again would he have to starve if\nWapiti should desert him. The little boy soon had many friends. He was\nso merry and bright, his aim with an arrow was so true and he was such\na brave little warrior, that all the tribe loved him.\n\nAll but Wapiti--she still hated the boy, and she hated the giant even\nmore, for she felt that had it not been for him, she would long ago\nhave been rid of the unwelcome child. In her heart she was always\ntrying to make some plan whereby she might be freed from both of them.\nOne day a hunter brought in a freshly killed deer for the giant, who\nwas very fond of roast venison, and Wapiti at last had her chance.\n\nShe prepared a splendid roast, but here and there among the deer meat\nshe made a tiny slit with a sharp knife, and slid in pieces of otter\nflesh. The giant returned from fishing, with a ravenous appetite, and\nsat down to the meal with a relish. But the first bite revealed the\ntrickery of Wapiti, and with a furious glare at her, the giant leaped\nto his feet, strode from the camp, and never was seen again by the\ntribe.\n\nSoon the warriors returned, and when they learned what had happened,\nWapiti had no further chance to carry out her cruel plans against\nWasewahto, for they drove her from the camp with stones and arrows,\nand said if ever she returned her life would be forfeited. Then they\nadopted her stepson as the child of the tribe.\n\nPoor little Wasewahto! Though he was among friends, he grieved\ncontinually for the loss of his dear giant, as did all the tribe,\nthough not as bitterly. He could not be tempted with even the daintiest\nfoods, and he did not care to play any more. The Indians made him\nsplendid bows and arrows, and the medicine-man carved a rattle for him\nout of a buffalo bone, but nothing seemed to make him happy. As winter\ncame on he grew thinner and paler and sadder every day, and shivered at\nthe slightest breeze.\n\nAt last his friends could bear it no longer, and begged him to tell\nthem what, next to having the giant back again, would make him happiest.\n\nHe answered at once, \u201cTake me where the summer is. If I could see\nflowers in the woods, and could shoot at the birds with my bow and\narrows again, I believe I could be happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen we will hunt for the summer-land, oh little Wasewahto,\u201d they\ncried, and set out the next day at sunrise.\n\nFor many days they traveled toward the south, and at last, on the\nshores of a great lake, they came upon a strange tepee. It was that of\na hostile tribe, however, and so Wasewahto\u2019s friends hid themselves in\nthe rushes by the water\u2019s edge, and called on the beaver to help them.\n\n\u201cWhat you seek is indeed here,\u201d said the wise old animal, when they had\ntold him their story, \u201cAnd I will help you.\u201d\n\nAccordingly he asked the moose to swim to the middle of the lake, and\nin the meantime he began gnawing busily at the canoe paddles of the\nhostile tribe, not enough to saw them off entirely, but merely to\nweaken them.\n\nSuddenly there was a shout from the tepee. Someone had seen the moose\nand all were eager to chase him. The enemies of Wasewahto and his\nfriends ran to the shore, leaped into their canoes, and put out after\nthe moose.\n\nWhen they were well out into the middle of the lake the beaver led\nWasewahto and his friends into the tepee by a hidden tent flap, so that\nthey might not be seen from the water side. From the very top of the\nhighest tent pole there hung a great leather bag. As soon as he saw it,\nWasewahto began to smile, a little at first, then more and more, and at\nlast, laughing aloud, he caught up his little bow and arrows and aimed\nstraight at the hanging pouch.\n\nAs the dart pierced the leather, the wigwam was suddenly filled with\nthe twittering of birds, and in another instant they came flying out of\nthe bag and out of the tepee--thousands of them, robins, woodpeckers,\nswallows, orioles, jays, wrens, bluebirds, and many others. For summer\nhad been tied up in the leather pouch, there to hang quietly until\nanother year.\n\nThe Indians on the lake had by this time discovered that there were\nintruders in their camp, and that summer, placed in their keeping, had\nbeen set free. Desperately they began to head for shore, but now under\nthe strain all the paddles broke, and the Indians were left floating on\nthe lake, screaming with helpless rage, while the moose swam away to\ncover.\n\nNow it began to be summer everywhere. The snow and ice melted away; the\nbrook, which had been locked up under layers of ice, began to gurgle\nand laugh again; the green leaves came out on the trees, and even the\nflowers began to spring up in the woods. Wasewahto was perfectly\nhappy. He grew plump and rosy, and he laughed with joy as he shot his\narrows and threw the harpoon for fish.\n\nBut the beaver and the moose came presently to think that perhaps they\nhad meddled with things that were not their affair, and that if the\nGreat Spirit had intended it to be summer all the time, he would not\nhave tied it up in a bag part of the year. So they decided to correct\ntheir mistake; but when at last they had fixed upon a plan, they found\nthey could not agree upon the length of time summer should be allowed\nout of its prison. So they called all the animals together and asked\nfor their advice. Everyone had a different idea. Some advised a month,\nsome ten, some eleven.\n\nAt last up jumped an old frog, and holding out his webbed foot, with\nits four toes, so that all might see it, he croaked in his deep voice,\n\u201cHave four--have four--have four--\u201d over and over again, until he\ndrowned out the voices of the others. His persistence so wearied them\nthat at last they gave in to him and decided on four, as he wished.\n\nSo now there are but four months of summer in the Northland, and little\nWasewahto is perfectly happy during those days. Then he smiles all the\ntime, as he works and plays. That is why the sunshine is so pleasant,\nand why the brooks seem to gurgle with joy in the summer time. But when\nthe winter days come, and the cold rains of autumn fall, those are\nthe tears of Wasewahto, sitting by the fire and weeping for his lost\nfriend, the giant.\n\n\n\n\nThe Feathered Bridegroom\n\n[Illustration: THE FAMILY SAT BEFORE ITS TENT]\n\n\n\n\nThe Feathered Bridegroom\n\n\nLong, long ago, before the coming of the white man to the shores of\nAmerica, there lived, far up in the north country, near the banks of a\nbroad river, a squaw named Speckled Eagle, with her little son Running\nBuffalo and her beautiful daughter Deerfoot, a maiden of fifteen.\n\nSpeckled Eagle was the widow of a great warrior and she determined that\nher daughter should never marry until there came to woo her some mighty\nchieftain of a powerful tribe. Many a young brave came to the tepee,\nfor Deerfoot was as good as she was lovely. Many a one would have wed\nher, but none were ever rich or noble enough to please Speckled Eagle.\n\nBut one day as the family sat before its tent, weaving mats of sweet\ngrass, a white canoe came gliding down the broad river, and in it there\nsat a handsome stranger. He was clad all in white, in garments made of\ndeer-skin, sewed over with beads and shells and trimmed with ermine\ntails.\n\nSpeckled Eagle looked at him eagerly. Ah, if only he were coming to\nwoo Deerfoot! As she watched, the stranger gave a few skillful strokes\nof his paddle that sent his canoe out of the current and brought it\ngliding toward the shore before Speckled Eagle\u2019s lodge. In another\nmoment he was stepping out upon the pebbly shore.\n\nAll a-flutter with excitement Speckled Eagle went hurrying down to meet\nhim, not forgetting in her haste to snatch up a bundle of bark which\nhung in the tepee. When she had greeted the strange brave and bade him\nwelcome to her lodge, she spread pieces of the bark before him on the\nground from the landing to the tepee, to do him honor. When he had\nreached the campfire, she begged him to rest on a soft pile of skins\nwhile she and her daughter prepared a feast for him.\n\nEveryone in her camp was delighted with the handsome stranger--all but\none old dog which growled and showed his teeth from the moment the\nunknown brave stepped ashore. The man trembled at the dog\u2019s angry\nsnarls, and said he could not eat a bit of the feast until that ugly\nanimal was taken away.\n\nAnxious to please her noble guest, Speckled Eagle led the old dog out\ninto the bushes and killed him, though she dared not tell Deerfoot what\nshe had done, for the girl was fond of the faithful dog.\n\nSoon the stranger made it known that he was a chieftain from the far\nnorth, who had made a temporary camp down the river a few miles below\nSpeckled Eagle\u2019s tepee. Furthermore he said that he wished to wed the\nlovely Deerfoot. The girl was so charmed by his handsome face, his\nwell-built figure and splendid carriage that she consented at once.\nSpeckled Eagle was more than satisfied to have so fine a son-in-law. So\na great wedding feast was held and Deerfoot married the strange brave\nthat night.\n\n[Illustration: DEERFOOT GREETS THE STRANGER]\n\nOn the following morning when Speckled Eagle was ready to make a\nfire, she went out into the bushes to get some dry faggots. There lay\nthe body of the old dog she had killed, pecked full of holes as if a\ngreat bird had feasted on it. The soft earth round about was marked by\nstrange three-toed prints.\n\nA sudden fear came to Speckled Eagle\u2019s heart. She hurried back to the\ncamp, and asked all present to take off their moccasins or shoes. All\ndid as she bade--all but the stranger.\n\n\u201cI never take off my shoes,\u201d he said haughtily, \u201cIt is a custom of my\ntribe.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut see the beautiful moccasins I have made for you,\u201d insisted\nSpeckled Eagle. For many moons she had worked on them, intending them\nto be a wedding gift for her noble son-in-law, whenever he should\nappear. They were of the softest leather, heavily beaded and worked in\nquills of the porcupine, and the stranger\u2019s eyes began to glisten as\nhe looked at them. Like a flash he whipped off his own moccasins, and\nput on the new ones before Speckled Eagle could see his feet. But the\nlittle brother\u2019s eyes were sharp.\n\n\u201cMother,\u201d he cried in terror, \u201che has feet like a bird--he has only\nthree toes.\u201d\n\nAt this the stranger grew angry and looked at the little boy so\nfiercely that he said no more, but Speckled Eagle was strangely\ntroubled and felt that all was not right.\n\nWhen they had breakfasted the stranger ordered his bride to follow him\nto his camp, far down the river, where he had many beautiful gifts for\nher. Deerfoot did not want to go. The incident of the moccasins had\nfrightened her, but her husband promised her they should return by\nsundown, so at last she climbed into the stern of his canoe, while the\nstranger took his place at the bow, and they paddled away down stream.\n\nDeerfoot looked back at the camp as long as she could see it, and\nwatched Speckled Eagle and the little brother, Running Buffalo, waving\nto her from the shore. But at last a turn of the river hid them from\nview.\n\nFor several hours Deerfoot and her husband went on down the river with\nthe current, he paddling, she giving an occasional stroke, where the\nstream did not run as fast as usual. About noon-day it began to rain, a\nshower at first, then a downpour. As the rain continued to fall harder\nand harder, the bride suddenly noticed that the water was washing away\nher husband\u2019s splendid white coat, and beneath it she could see black\nfeathers and a long black tail.\n\nThen she knew what evil had befallen her. She had married a Crow, the\nbird of wickedness, whose tricky ways oft deceived the Indians.\n\nDeerfoot was very much frightened, but she began to plan her escape at\nonce. With her small deft hands she tied the long black tail to the\ncrossbar of the canoe, using a leather thong from her moccasins.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d asked the Crow, as he felt her fingers among his\nfeathers.\n\n\u201cSmoothing down your beautiful coat, and sewing on some of the beads\nthat have become loosened,\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cAh, I see you are industrious, as a good wife should be,\u201d he answered\nwith a sly grin, but without turning.\n\nAll the long afternoon they floated down the river, and as it drew on\ntoward sunset the canoe glided along into a rushy, reed-covered marsh\nwhere the wild ducks made their nests. As the canoe slipped among the\ngrasses, dozens of frightened birds rose in great flocks and flew\nacross the marshes.\n\n\u201cThese shores are full of duck eggs, husband,\u201d said Deerfoot, as she\nwatched the circling birds. Seized by a sudden idea she cried: \u201cLet me\nland here for a moment, and I will soon find a dozen for your supper.\u201d\n\nNow the Crow was hungry, and the prospect of a dozen roasted duck eggs\npleased him immensely.\n\n\u201cYou are a good wife,\u201d he said, \u201cbut make haste--we still have far to\ngo,\u201d and he ran the canoe close to the shore.\n\nBefore the keel had even grated on the pebbles, like the swift-footed\ndeer for whom she was named, the Indian maid had sprung ashore and\ndarted up the bank into the forest. She was soon out of sight speeding\nlike an arrow through the woods, back to her mother, her brother, and\nher home.\n\nThe Crow gave a harsh cry, which resembled a caw, as he saw her go, and\nbegan screaming at the top of his voice: \u201cStop--stop--I\u2019ll bring you\nback, and punish you for this.\u201d\n\nBut he could not free himself to follow her. Deerfoot had fastened his\ntail too securely to the crossbar for him to loosen it easily. It took\nhim nearly an hour to untie the last knot, for it was no easy task to\nreach around behind his back, and, by the sense of touch alone, pick\nout countless knots tied in wet leather.\n\nBy the time the Crow had untied all the thongs that held him. Deerfoot\nwas far away in the forest, so he sunk his canoe, resumed his bird\nshape once more and flew off screeching as he went: \u201cAgain I have\ntricked my enemy--man.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nMandowmin of the Maize\n\n[Illustration: AS TALL AS A MAN IT STOOD      (_See Page 55_)]\n\n\n\n\nMandowmin of the Maize\n\n\nIn the history of the Pilgrims and their early struggles on the bleak\nshores of New England, it is told how they were taught by the friendly\nIndians, Samoset and Squanto, to plant Indian corn, which soon became\none of the principal articles of food on their tables. And even now,\nafter nearly three hundred years, there is scarcely any food we think\nof as more truly American, than corn meal mush, or piping hot corn\ncakes.\n\nBut long long ago, before the feet of white men ever trod the forest of\nthe New World, as America was called in those days, and while Indians\nin vast numbers roamed over the land, there was a time when Indian corn\nor maize was unknown even to the red men. Their food consisted almost\nentirely of meat--the fleet-footed deer and wild turkey--and fish from\nthe little trout streams. Sometimes a handful of sweet berries was\nfound, which added zest to the meal.\n\nLife ran on smoothly in the summer time, for then the Indians lived\nwell, but when the long, snowy New England winters set in, it was quite\na different matter. The streams froze over, the birds flew south, and\nthe deer retreated farther into the depths of the forest. Sometimes\nwhen there had been an unusually large number of deer killed in the\nfall, the Indian women cut up the flesh into strips and dried it in the\nwarm bright autumn sunshine. This dried meat was then stored away for\nthe long winter. But the supply seldom lasted until spring, and the\npeople had to face days of famine and suffering during which many of\nthem died.\n\nNow it chanced in those days that there lived a little Indian boy\nnamed Waso. He was the son of a chieftain, and like his father he had\na kind and gentle heart. The chieftain never forgot to give thanks to\nthe Great Spirit for every catch of fish and for every nimble deer\nhis sharp arrows killed. When times of famine fell upon the tribe,\nhe shared with them until he had no more left to give, and he was\nconstantly trying to discover ways in which he might help his people.\n\nLittle Waso, growing from babyhood into boyhood in this kindly\natmosphere, began to think very seriously of the welfare of his tribe,\nover whom he would some day rule as a chieftain.\n\nOften he dreamed strange dreams. He would imagine that he was walking\nthrough a dense forest where the briars and brambles stung him, and\nbrought out a rash on his tender skin. But then, at his very feet would\nspring up a cluster of bright berries, or some green herb, and a voice\nseemed to urge him to crush the plant and lay it on the red spot. He\nobeyed and was instantly healed. So too, in a dream, was the bite of\na poisonous snake cured. The strangest part of all was that on the\nfollowing day these things all happened exactly as in his vision. Waso\nalways found the herb he needed growing near him, and thus was saved\nfrom many a misfortune.\n\nHe told his father of these things, and the chieftain called together\nthe older men of the tribe and related to them all that had happened.\nThey believed his dreams were messages from the Great Spirit, and from\nthat time each particular herb of which the child had dreamed, was\ncarefully gathered and stored away for use as medicine. All the old men\ndeclared that Waso would some day become a great chieftain.\n\nAt last, for little Waso, came the time when an Indian boy goes away\nfrom his family and fasts and calls on the Great Spirit to show him a\nvision of his future life and teach him how to live wisely and well. So\nthe chieftain built a little wigwam for Waso, at some distance from the\nothers, and the boy went to it, and began the solemn rites.\n\nThat first night in his tent alone, he dreamed that the Great Spirit\nsent a new gift to his people, a food by means of which it would be\neasier for them to live and which would provide against days of famine.\nThis gift was called Mandowmin and was to grow out of the black soil.\nBut the manner in which he should find it was not revealed to Waso\nand after he awoke he could think of nothing else but the mysterious\ngift.\n\n[Illustration: THE NEXT DAY THE YOUNG BRAVE APPEARED]\n\nHe fasted for three days in his lonely tent, sleeping at night on a bed\nof skins. The third day, weak from lack of food, he looked out of his\ndoorway at sunset, and saw a splendid young brave flying down from the\nsky. He was clad all in green and yellow, and a tuft of green plumes\nnodded on his head.\n\n\u201cI am come, oh Little-Chieftain-Who-Loves-His-People, from the Great\nSpirit,\u201d said the stranger. \u201cHe looks with favor upon you and your\nfather the Chieftain, because you contend not with arrows and spears,\nbut seek only the good of your people. I have great news for you, news\nof a wonderful gift from the Great Spirit; but first you must wrestle\nwith me, as it is only by overcoming me that you may learn the secret.\u201d\n\nNow Waso was so faint and weak that he swayed as he stood, but without\nhesitation he began to wrestle with the mysterious stranger. It was an\nunequal struggle, however, and soon the boy lay on his back, panting\nfor breath.\n\n\u201cI will come again tomorrow,\u201d said the stranger, and vanished.\n\nThe next day at the same hour the young brave appeared at Waso\u2019s\ntent, and again they wrestled. Once more Waso was vanquished, but\nthe stranger only smiled his kind friendly smile and said: \u201cBe\nbrave, little Waso! You have another chance--tomorrow--but your\nlast--remember.\u201d\n\nOn the third day Waso was so weak that he could scarcely stand, but he\nsaid to himself that he must win in order to learn the great secret for\nhis people. And so much did his strong will help his weak body that at\nlast he overthrew the young brave in green.\n\n\u201cWell done, Little Chieftain,\u201d said the stranger, as he arose from the\nground, where Waso had thrown him in the struggle, and dusted off his\ngarments. \u201cTomorrow at set of sun I will come again for the last time.\nIf I am vanquished I shall die. You must then strip off my garments,\nclear a spot of earth free from all stones, weeds and roots, soften the\nearth, and bury me in that spot. Then come often to my grave, and see\nif perchance I have returned to life once more; but let no weeds grow\nover me. Promise that you will do all as I tell you, and then you shall\nknow the secret of the Great Spirit.\u201d\n\nWaso promised though with tears in his eyes. He had grown to love the\nhandsome stranger with whom he had wrestled on three days at sunset,\nand the thought of his death saddened the boy, but he gave him his word.\n\nThe next morning the chieftain came to his son\u2019s tent with food.\n\n\u201cYou have proved yourself a man, my son,\u201d he said. \u201cA longer fast may\ndo you harm.\u201d\n\nBut Waso answered: \u201cWait only, oh my father, until evening, and when\nthe sun goes down I shall return to your fireside.\u201d\n\nSo the chieftain went home alone.\n\nAt sunset the strange brave returned and appeared once more at Waso\u2019s\ntent. For the last time they fought. Steadily Waso gained and finally\nthe stranger sank weakly to his knees. He arose again, and once more\nWaso put forth all his strength and threw his foe to earth. The\nstranger murmured faintly: \u201cYour promise--remember,\u201d and spoke no more.\n\nGently, tenderly, with tears streaming down his cheeks, Waso obeyed the\ninstructions. Drawing off the beautiful green and yellow garments, he\nburied his strange friend in the soft black soil. Then he returned to\nhis father\u2019s home. But every day he visited the lonely grave far away\nat the edge of the forest. Carefully he pulled away the weeds and in\nthe dry season he carried water in gourds to keep the earth soft and\nmoist. Then one day, to his joy, he saw that the green plumes of the\nstranger\u2019s head-dress were pushing through the soil. His friend was\ncoming back to him.\n\nAll this time Waso had kept these things a secret, but as the summer\ndrew to a close, he led his father to the distant grave. He told the\nchieftain the strange story, and, when he had finished, pointed to\nwhere there rose from the center of the stranger\u2019s grave a plant whose\nlike had never been seen before by the chieftain. As tall as a man\nit stood, straight and green, with broad shining leaves waving in the\nautumn breeze, topped by silky bright brown hair and nodding green\nplumes. From either side grew long green husks full of pearly white\ngrains, sweet and juicy to the taste.\n\n[Illustration: HE CARRIED WATER IN GOURDS]\n\n\u201cIt is my friend come back to me,\u201d cried Waso. \u201cIt is Mandowmin, the\nIndian corn. It is the gift of the Great Spirit, and so long as we\nrenew it from year to year, and watch and tend it, we need never fear\nthe famine.\u201d\n\nThat night, round the grave of Mandowmin, the members of the tribe held\na feast and thanked the Great Spirit for his goodness.\n\n\n\n\nAwahnee and the Giant\n\n\n\n\nAwahnee and the Giant\n\n\nYears and years ago, when there were no white men in all the great land\nwe now call North America and the Indians were free to roam the woods,\nliving by the fish they speared and the deer they shot, men knew very\nlittle about the world in which they lived. They did not understand why\nwe have day and night, sun and moon, summer and winter, and so they\nmade up all sorts of pretty stories about these strange facts.\n\nWhen the last leaves of autumn had fallen, and the Indians were glad\nto huddle around the fires in their wigwams, little Indian boys and\ngirls would ask their elders:\n\n\u201cWhy does it grow colder?\u201d \u201cWill it ever be warm again?\u201d and dozens of\nother questions. And here is the tale that the old men of one tribe\nalways told the little folks in answer.\n\nLong ago, there lived a great hunter, A-wah-nee, a tall young brave.\nNo one in all his tribe could shoot an arrow so far or so straight\nas could A-wah-nee. When he was still a very young man, his fame had\nspread even beyond his own land to other tribes.\n\nHe kept two great pet wolves as hunting dogs, huge fierce animals that\nwere the terror of the tribe. And well they might be, too, for they\nwere under a spell. When A-wah-nee was deep in the forest and saw a\ndeer near him, he had only to say \u201cUp wolves\u201d and in an instant they\nwere as big as bears and had pounced upon the deer. Then he would say\n\u201cDown wolves\u201d and once more they would be their own proper size.\n\nIn a few years the deer in the forest, on the edge of which A-wah-nee\nand his grandmother lived in a small wigwam, had grown so clever and\nwary that they kept themselves hidden away all the day and roamed only\nat night. Presently A-wah-nee began to long for other forests where the\ndeer were not so shy. At last one day he brought in from the hunt a\nhalf dozen fine deer.\n\n\u201cDry that meat in the sun,\u201d he said to his grandmother, \u201cand you will\nhave food in plenty until I return. I am going on a journey to other\nhunting grounds where game is bigger and more plentiful.\u201d\n\nThen he slung his snow shoes over his shoulder, for it was nearing the\ncold days, caught up his bow and arrows and his hunting knife, and\nstrode off toward the north. As he journeyed he saw many a fine deer\nand moose. Some he shot, others he let go unharmed, for he was always\nseeking bigger game. Ever the wind grew more cold and cutting, the\ngrass and leaves began to wither and disappear, and soon there was a\ncovering of ice on the water and a blanket of snow on the ground.\n\nBut A-wah-nee put on his snow shoes and went skimming away, until at\nlast he came to a huge wigwam almost buried in the drifts of snow.\nThere was a thread of smoke curling up from the top, and A-wah-nee, who\nhad begun to feel cold and weary, lifted the tent flap and walked in.\n\nThere was but one person in the wigwam, a very old giant, with deep\nwrinkles in his face, and snow white hair and beard. When he spoke,\nhis great voice sounded like the howling of the north wind in the pine\ntrees.\n\n\u201cHo! young brave,\u201d he cried. \u201cWho are you? Whence come you? What do you\nwant in my wigwam?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am A-wah-nee,\u201d answered the young man proudly; \u201cmightiest hunter of\nmy tribe. I have killed all the game worthy of my bow, and now seek new\nquarry, bigger and fleeter. But tell me your name, old man.\u201d\n\n\u201cWinter!\u201d roared the white haired giant in such a fierce tone that\nA-wah-nee began to feel afraid of him. \u201cI rule the Kingdom of Cold. I\nbring the snow and ice. My breath kills all it touches. But sit down if\nyou are not afraid of me. I bid you welcome.\u201d\n\nA-wah-nee was ashamed to show his fear after the boasting remark he had\nmade at first, so he sat down by the giant\u2019s fire, took a bit of moose\nmeat from a leather pouch at his side, and began to eat it. While the\nold man related tales of great hunts and battles of his younger days\nand told of the wonderful deeds the frost giants had wrought at his\nbidding.\n\nA-wah-nee was amazed at these stories, which made him feel that\nperhaps, after all, he was not as great a hunter as he had believed.\nPresently, in spite of the glowing fire beside him, the young brave\nbegan to feel very chilly. His teeth chattered and he tried to jump up\nand run about to warm himself.\n\nBut he could not move. Something seemed to hold him hand and foot; his\nhead fell forward and he rolled over on the ground, fast asleep. The\ngiant laughed until he fairly shook the forest, and the echoes went\nrolling along like distant thunder.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll have a good sleep, my boy, before you hunt again,\u201d he laughed,\nas he strode out of the wigwam, chuckling.\n\nHe had spoken the truth indeed, for it was six months before the charm\nwas over and young A-wah-nee awoke. When at last he stretched his limbs\nand opened his eyes, the old man, who was sitting beside him, burst\ninto roars of laughter, and told him of the joke he had played.\n\nA-wah-nee was furious, but he kept his anger to himself. Courteously he\nthanked the giant for his welcome and for the interesting stories, and\nbade him good-bye; but as he set out for the southland, he was saying\nin his heart: \u201cThe day will come when I will mock you, old man.\u201d\n\nHe traveled on for many weeks. Gradually the snow melted away, grass\nand flowers began to appear, and when he reached the southland,\nthousands of birds were twittering and singing in the trees.\n\nPeople were singing too, there in the southland, singing and dancing\naround their beloved Queen of Summer. At first A-wah-nee laughed when\nhe saw her, for she was only a mite of a creature scarcely as tall as\nA-wah-nee\u2019s foot, with long black hair waving about her shoulders and\ndark eyes flashing fire. But as he looked at her, an idea leaped into\nhis mind, and grew and grew into a great plan to fool the giant Winter.\n\nCarefully the young brave carried out his scheme. First he went deep\ninto the heart of the forest and killed a deer. Then he skinned it\ncarefully, and made its hide into long thin strips which he rolled into\na tight ball.\n\nReturning to the place where the men of the southland were singing and\ndancing about their little Queen of Summer, A-wah-nee waited his time.\nIn a moment when they were not on guard, he caught up the tiny figure,\ntucked her out of sight in a fold of his blanket, and went striding\naway into the forest. As he fled he took care to unwind some ten or\nmore turns of the deer-skin string ball, and let the loose ends dangle\nseveral yards behind him.\n\nA-wah-nee was very fleet of foot and, too, he had taken the men of\nthe south so entirely unawares that before they had planned how to\nrescue their stolen Queen, the thief was already deep in the forest and\nquite out of sight. But presently they came upon the deer string and,\nwinding it up as they went, began to follow where it led.\n\nIn the meantime A-wah-nee had traveled far and reached, at last,\nthe wigwam of the giant Winter. As before, the old man welcomed him\npleasantly and bade him enter, for he meant to exert his spell over the\nyoung hunter once more.\n\n\u201cSit by my fire and rest,\u201d he roared in his great voice. \u201cYou must be\nweary after your long hunt. I will tell you tales of the giants while\nyou refresh your tired limbs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh no!\u201d laughed A-wah-nee. \u201cThis time, oh giant, I will tell the tales\nto you,\u201d and he smiled knowingly and began to speak.\n\nAs he talked, a strange thing happened to the giant. His head nodded,\nhis voice grew weak, he shook all over, and tears began to run from his\neyes, for little by little A-wah-nee had been drawing the folds of his\nblanket away from the little Queen of Summer, and she had been watching\nthe old man with bright black eyes. At last she stepped out boldly on\nA-wah-nee\u2019s knee, and smiled at Winter. Under that smile he grew weaker\nand weaker until at last he fell to the floor of the wigwam, and melted\naway until nothing was left of him but a pool of water from which came\na hoarse, moaning cry.\n\nA-wah-nee and the little Queen turned away from him and stepped out\ndoors. A great change had come over the scene. The snow had gone, the\ngrass was fresh and green, the ice had melted away, and the brooks\nwere trying to sing even louder than the happy birds. Everything was\nas beautiful as the southland itself, even more so, for there was a\ncool, sweet fragrance in the air that had come from the pure snow as it\nmelted.\n\nSoon A-wah-nee and the little Queen found themselves surrounded by\nthe men of the southland, and they were rejoiced to see their beloved\nruler once more, safe and unharmed. When A-wah-nee told them why he had\nborrowed their little Queen, they were quite ready to forgive him.\n\nIndeed, they found the northland so beautiful they longed to make it\ntheir home, but A-wah-nee warned them that the Summer Queen\u2019s power\ncould last but six months. At the end of that time the old giant\nWinter would rise from the pool of water, resume his former shape, and\nwith his breath freeze all the country, over which he ruled.\n\nSo from that time on, the men of the southland came each year to the\nfrozen realm of the old giant Winter, bringing their little Queen of\nSummer, and with her approach the old man was forced to take a six\nmonths\u2019 nap. And so it has been even to this day. While the giant\nsleeps, the world is bright and sunshiny; the flowers and the birds\nsing; but when he awakens, he freezes the rivers and covers the earth\nwith a blanket of snow.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES:\n\n\n  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.\n\n  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.\n\n  Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.","title":"The Lost Giant, and Other American Indian Tales Retold","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":7175}