Chapter XXI: Introduction (11)

“Boy, you are going away tomorrow!” exclaimed a voice from over the partition.

“No, no, uncle,” answered the nephew. “Go to sleep and do not dream such things.”

“Ah, you cannot deceive De‘o´niot,” replied the uncle. “I know you are going away tomorrow and when you go, go west, for you have relatives there. If ever danger threatens call my name and I will be on hand to save you. Distance does not stop my promise. Call me anywhere and I will come.”

At dawn the next day the couple drank from the spring that filled a basin on one side of the room and ran out of the other. Then, packing up a bundle of food, they turned their backs on the morning and journeyed to the west.

At nightfall they saw in the distance a stream of water that reflected the light of the moon in a most peculiar way, and coming up to it they found that its strange gleam resulted from its frozen surface. The creek did not appear wide and the couple decided that it could be jumped easily. Running back a short distance each dashed forward and attempted to leap across, but great was their surprise and chagrin when they landed on the ice in the middle of the stream, and greater was their dismay when they began to slide forward. The creek ran down a steep incline and with great rapidity the two slipped downward over its surface into the uncertain light. In a moment, however, they saw that they were headed directly for a great lodge into which the stream flowed. In desperation they clutched at the ice and endeavored to hold back but vain was their effort, and in a few moments they had plunged into the lodge and into the midst of a dozen howling warriors armed with war clubs.

Surrounding them, the warriors began to brandish their clubs. Death seemed certain. The couple trembled and believed that death has surely come. Suddenly the wife started boldly up and shouted:

“De‘o´niot, hagesa!” she cried.

The warriors fell back with cries of dismay at the sound of the magical name.

In the distance came a signal call, then came a song. It was the battle song of De‘o´niot. The warriors huddled in the corners of the lodge quaking with fear. The words of the song became distinct as De‘o´niot drew nearer.

The couple looked out and saw the man-eater sliding down the incline holding in his arms a kettle, a bowl and a spoon.

“I will stay here with my meat,” he shouted as he burst into the lodge. “You had better go on to the village. Your parents and people are there. Now leave me here and go on.”

The two gladly hurried from the house and toward morning came to a village when both found friends and relatives.

After the nephew and his wife had lived in their new home for a year, one by one the children of the settlement began mysteriously to disappear.

“My uncle surely must be in this vicinity,” reflected the nephew, “I will go on a hunt for him.”

So the nephew started out and after a time of journeying saw De‘o´niot leaning over the bank of a creek groaning in agony.

“Oh uncle!” exclaimed the nephew, “what troubles you?”

“Oh nephew,” came the groaning reply, “I have eaten many children and am very sick. My belly is hurt with pain as if by claws clutching inside.”

“Cheer up uncle, I can cure you. Only obey my instructions.”

The nephew made a soup of fish bones and skins and fed it to his uncle. He continued this treatment for three days, until De‘o´niot had disgorged. By this time he was ravenous and begged for food and new clothing, for his old rags were very foul. The nephew bade him strip and plunge in the water and bathe himself. Then, after giving him some new clothing he fed him on a little corn pudding, gradually increasing the allowance at each meal and each time moving the camp nearer the village.

“You must now learn to cook, uncle,” said the nephew, “then you will forget your unnatural appetite. God made men above all creatures, uncle, and gave them great skill. Men are not made to devour one another, or for beasts to devour, but beasts are food for men. So now, promise never to touch the meat of mankind again.”

“Aye, never more will I eat of human flesh or the raw flesh of any creature but only fruits and roots and cooked meat!”

So the nephew brought him into the village and introduced him as his uncle from afar. And the uncle grew so fond of this nephew’s wife’s cooking that he married a woman to have a cook for himself.

36. A YOUTH’S DOUBLE ABUSES HIS SISTER.

There was a lodge in the forest where very few people ever came, and there dwelt a young man and his sister. The youth was unlike other persons for one half of his head had hair of a reddish cast, while the other side was black.

He used to leave his sister in the lodge and go away on long hunting trips. On one occasion the young woman, his sister, saw, so she thought, her brother coming down the path to the lodge. “I thought you just went away to hunt,” said the sister. “Oh, I thought I would come back,” said he.

Then he sat down on the bed with the sister and embraced her and acted as a lover. The sister reproached him and said that she was very angry. But again he endeavored to fondle her in a familiar way, but again was repulsed. This time he went away.

The next day the brother returned and found his sister very angry. She would scarcely speak to him, though hitherto she had talked a great deal.

“My sister,” said he. “I am at loss to know why you treat me thus. It is not your custom.”

“Oh you ought to know that you have abused me,” said the girl.

“I never abused you. What are you talking about?” he said.

“Oh you know that you embraced me in an improper way yesterday,” said the sister.

“I was not here yesterday,” asserted the youth. “I believe that my friend who resembles me in every respect has been here.”

“You have given a poor excuse,” replied his sister. “I hope your actions will not continue.”

Soon the brother went away again, stating that he would be absent three days. In a short time the sister saw, as she thought, a figure looking like her brother skulking in the underbrush. His shirt and leggings were the same as her brother’s and his hair was the same. So then she knew that her brother had returned for mischief. Soon he entered the lodge and embraced her, and this time in anger she tore his cheeks with her nails and sent him away.

In three days the brother returned with a deer, but his sister would not speak to him. Said he, “My sister, I perceive that you are angry at me. Has my friend been here?”

It was some time before the sister replied, and then she wept, saying, “My brother, you have abused me and I scratched your face. I perceive that it is still torn by my finger nails.”

“Oh, my face,” laughed the brother. “My face was torn by thorns as I hunted deer. If you scratched my friend that is the reason I am scratched. Whatever happens to either one of us happens to the other.” But the sister would not believe this.

Again the brother went on a hunting trip, and again the familiar figure returned. This time the sister tore his hunting shirt from the throat down to the waist line. Moreover she threw a ladle of hot bear grease on the shirt. This caused his quick departure.

Returning in due time the brother brought in his game and threw it down. Again the sister was angry and finally accused him. Pointing to his grease-smeared torn shirt she said that this was evidence enough.

“Oh my sister,” explained the brother. “I tore my shirt on a broken limb as I climbed a tree after a raccoon. In making soup from bear meat I spilled it on my shirt.” Still the sister refused to believe him.

“Oh my sister,” said the brother, in distressed tones. “I am greatly saddened to think you will not believe me. My friend looks exactly as I do, and whatever happens to him happens to me. I shall now be compelled to find my friend and bring him to you and when I do I shall be compelled to kill him before you for his evil designs upon you. If you would believe me nothing evil would befall us, but I now think I myself shall die.”

The sister said nothing for she would not believe her brother.

The brother now began to pile up dried meat and to repair the lodge. He then went out into the forest without his bow and arrows, and in a short time returned with another man exactly resembling him, and whose clothing was spotted and torn in a similar way. Leading him to the lodge fire he began to scold him in an angry manner. “You have betrayed me and abused my sister,” he said. “Now is the time for you to die.” Taking out an arrow from a quiver he cast it into the heart of his double and killed him. The sister saw her assailant fall to the floor, and then looked up as she heard her brother give a war cry and fall as dead with blood streaming from a wound in his chest over his heart.

37. MURDERED DOUBLE SPEAKS THROUGH FIRE.

(SECOND PART OF A YOUTH’S DOUBLE.)

After lying as dead for a time the youth’s inherent magic began to bring about a restoration of life. Soon he sat up and looked at his sister. Then he spoke.

“Oh my sister,” he said. “The mother of my friend will shortly come for him, believing him married to you. We must dispose of my friend’s body and when the woman comes we must act as if we were husband and wife.”

The youth now removed the stones of the fireplace and dug a deep hole beneath. In this he buried the body of his slain friend, smoothed the earth and restored the ring of stones. He now rekindled the fire, and all trace of the murder was wiped away.

After a while footsteps were heard and the door was flung back. A witch woman looked into the lodge, and seeing someone that resembled her son standing closely to a young woman, the witch said, “I now perceive that I have a daughter-in-law.”

Thereupon the fire began to flicker and a voice came clearly from it, saying, “My friend has killed me, my friend has killed me.”

“Wu‘!” exclaimed the witch mother, “What words is your fire speaking?”

“Oh, my mother, pay no attention to the fire,” said the youth. “The fire thus speaks because I scrape the blood from my arrows into it.” So saying he scraped an arrow into the fire and it spoke as before, “My friend has killed me.”

The witch was disturbed and requested her pretended son to return to his maternal lodge bringing his wife with him. The youth now told his sister that the simulation of married life must be above suspicion, and then together all three went to the lodge of the witch.

As they sat down the pet owl of the lodge began to hoot. “The stranger has taken to wife his younger sister.” The old woman looked up and asked what the meaning of this omen might be, whereupon the youth answered, “It is because you have not fed the owl. I now give it meat.” The owl was then satisfied and continued to speak its accustomed notes.

That night the youth slept with his sister. As he entered the sleeping apartment the owl screamed as before, “It is not this one; this one takes to wife his younger sister.”

The youth called out, “Give no heed to this owl, he is hungry,” and he flung it more meat. Nevertheless the witch woman was suspicious and resolved to watch the couple.

During the night she spied through the curtain covering the bed, but the boy and his sister were simulating sleep, though arranged in an affectionate attitude. The old witch then placed her hand in the bed and under the covers, touching the couple, and she was then satisfied that the two were married.

Early in the morning the youth whispered to his sister that they must make their escape or the witch would discover the truth and kill them. Together the two went out of the lodge and the youth taking out his medicine pouch thrust his hand into it and took out a small dog which he tapped with a red rod. The dog grew in size with every tap until it was large enough to carry a human being. Placing his sister on the dog, the youth said, “Go forward and let nothing turn you aside. The dog will carry you to the lodge where is our refuge.”

The dog ran forward but after a long tedious journey the sister dismounted to rest, and seeing a pretty bird fluttering just before her, began to chase it. It finally flew out of sight and when she returned to find the dog it had disappeared. She then remembered her brother’s warning and stumbled forward hoping to find relief.

Meanwhile the brother ran on to the refuge but when he reached the lodge he found that his sister had not come. Some one was coming, however, for he heard footsteps. He looked and saw the witch approaching. “Where is she?” cried the witch, “Where is my daughter-in-law?” The youth was perplexed, but answered, “She is coming, you must have passed them.”

“I cannot rest,” said the witch, “for your pet owls continually say, ‘It is another and she is his sister.’”

The youth now perceived that he must escape the witch and so he asked her where she was going. “To your lodge,” she called as she sped onward over the trail.

The youth hurried forward over a shorter trail and reached the lodge before the witch. “Where is my daughter-in-law?” yelled the old woman as she entered the lodge.

“She has returned to the other lodge,” answered the youth.

“It is another one,” sang the fireplace, and then added, “My friend has killed me and taken his younger sister to wife.”

“I must meet my wife,” said the youth as he hurried away. He knew that he must now make his escape.

The witch was now thoroughly suspicious and dug into the fireplace. Soon she discovered her son and saw that indeed he had been killed. Burying him in another place she ran to her own lodge and took her witch charms, invoking them to give her power. To make herself mighty she drank the oil of hickory nuts. To test her power she smote a hickory tree but her blows only loosened all the bark. Drinking more oil she struck the tree again, reducing it to splinters. Now feeling confident she transformed herself into a Niă’´gwahē and started in pursuit of the youth, crying, “You cannot escape me.”

When the youth found himself closely pressed he threw out a handful of pigeon feathers ordering them to become a monster flock of pigeons and to make the ground beneath them impassable. Immediately pigeons flew thickly in the air and covered the ground with an impassable slime in which the witch wallowed until exhausted, when she swooned. When she recovered the youth was far away and only a few pigeon feathers could be seen on the ground.

Again she caught sight of him and cried out as is the custom for the Niă’´gwahĕ beast, “You cannot escape me.” This time the youth cast a white stone in the path and commanded that it become an impassable cliff that stretched from ocean to ocean. Against this the witch batted her head until she swooned. Awakening she saw only a small quartz pebble and in anger arose again in pursuit, crying as she caught up to him, “You cannot escape me.”

The youth was now sorely pressed but in running along the trail he saw an old man. “I am your uncle,” said the old man. “Run onward to your mother’s lodge, and meanwhile I will protect you.” The youth ran on and the old uncle caused a vast field of sharpened posts to spring up, making a terrible barrier to the onrushing Niă’´gwahĕ.

The youth passed another old man who called out to him, “I am your uncle. Run onward to your mother’s lodge, and meanwhile I will protect you.” This was reassuring, for just then the witch came into view and cried, “You cannot escape me.” Then the witch monster ran directly into a net-like entanglement and with wild rage floundered about until it had freed itself.

Meanwhile the youth was speeding forward. Soon he saw a handsome lodge before him and into this he ran. There he found his sister and the dog, an older woman, a younger woman and another youth.

“Protect me,” cried the pursued youth looking at the inmates of the lodge. “Niă’´gwahē pursues me.”

“I am your mother, my son,” said the oldest woman. “I will save you from trouble.”

Taking up a pot of boiling bear’s oil she waited until the witch beast had thrust its head into the lodge when she threw the oil full in the creature’s face. It gave a great snort and fell down dead.

The mother came up to the youth, saying, “Here is your older brother and older sister. Your younger sister and your dog came here and found me. We are all now safe and are reunited, so now all is well and I am thankful.”

38. THE VAMPIRE CORPSE.[39]

An old man had a house far back in the woods, a long ways from any village. It stood in the midst of a good hunting ground. The old man always welcomed any hunting party and provided them with all the utensils necessary for curing their meats and tanning their pelts. It seemed however, that the place was haunted by an evil spirit that delighted to inflict those who tarried there with very bad dreams, and sometimes it killed them by sucking out their blood like a weasel.

One time, so it is said, a man and his wife and child went to this hunting ground and went to the lodge of Taiiani Gowa, the old man of the solitudes, to ask for shelter. Now when he called there was no answer and so he entered and found Taiiani Gowa dead in a bark coffin. This coffin had been prepared long before and Taiiani Gowa having a premonition of coming death had crawled in his box and died; so the man said.

Now it was nightfall and the man lay down beside his wife and baby to pass the night. Toward the hour of midnight the woman was awakened by a sound of gnawing,—cautiously she looked about and sliding out her hand on the floor felt a warm pool of blood. Quickly she realized what had occurred. The old man was dead but his evil spirit was making him conform to its vampire appetite. It was chewing off the face of her husband. But she did not scream, instead she said carefully, “Husband, our child wishes water, you are too sleepy to care for her while I go for some, so I will take her with me, give her a drink and soon return.” With these words she arose and went out carrying a bowl with her. She ran to the spring, dropped the bowl and then ran toward home as fast as her strength gave her ability for running. “Unless I hasten,” she thought, “the tcĭs´gä will overtake and devour me. I heard him go back to his coffin, but his hunger will soon return and he will come for us, and finding us missing, will pursue us. Oh my baby, we must hurry!”

An echo of a loud cry sounded through the silent forest and the woman caught the words, “She has deceived me!” Then she knew that the tcĭs´gä had started on her track. She heard him at the spring, so she used all her speed to escape him, but presently she heard a growling close behind her and heard him exclaim, “Ah you cannot escape me!” Unloosening her skirt she flung it on a swinging branch and hurrying on, hear the tcĭs´gä crying, “Ah now I have you!” Then he tore the garment into shreds and found out his mistake. So then he ran screaming on. When he had neared her again she threw her blanket upon a log and ran on. The tcĭs´gä stopped and whooped because he was very angry. Then he chewed up the blanket but finding no blood rushed on after his victim, only to be delayed again and again by the same trick. After a time she had stripped herself and her baby of all their clothing and she was nearly exhausted, with the tcĭs´gä close upon her; then she heard the sound of drumming across a little valley and crying “Gowe^n‘” she ran on. The sentinel outside the long house heard her cry and gathering a number of warriors about him, ran at full speed toward the cry of distress. Each warrior bore a flaming torch the lights of which confused the pursuing tcĭs´gä and gave hope to the woman. Throwing their robes about her the warriors carried her to the long house where after reviving her from her faint, they heard her story. Then said the chief, “If her story is true we must keep the lights burning and dance till morning for the tcĭs´gä may return and kill us all; on the morrow we will send a party to examine the lodge of Taiiani Gowa and find out what the trouble is.” So the dance continued all night and in the morning a party headed by the chief went to the lodge of Taiiani Gowa and found the dead man in his coffin and the husband with his face chewed clean to the skull. Then the chief stepped to the side of the coffin and said, “We have come to make a great ceremony. We will bind up your box and then have our ceremony.” The warriors bound up the coffin with their strongest ropes and piled it high with brush and logs. Then a torch was applied and the coffin was surrounded by flames. The old man could not escape although he threatened terrible results for he could not pass outside of the flames. So his head burst and a white rabbit ran forth into the underbrush, eluding all the arrows of the warriors and escaping. Then did the people prove that Tiaiiani Gowa was a wizard and discover the form of his evil spirit. Likewise they knew why his guests became sick. He was a bad spirit.

VIII.
TALES OF TALKING ANIMALS

39. THE MAN WHO EXHALED FIRE—HIS DOGS AND THE WOLVES.[40]

Now this is great.

A man had a dog and was always kind to it and the dog loved the man. Now this man would smoke tobacco after he had eaten his evening meal. Smoke issued from his mouth and sparks of fire flew from his pipe. The dog noticed this.

The man was a hunter and had large stores of meat hung up on poles and stored in his lodge. This was fortunate for the man because game was now very scarce. The wolves about were ravenous. They came from great distances toward the lodge of the hunter because they smelled his meat. The hunter’s dog saw them and asked them what they intended to do. They answered that they were hungry and intended to kill the hunter and eat his meat. They also advised the dog to keep away for they surely would kill his brother (the man) and also him if he interfered or warned his master. This worried the good dog and he thought some time how he could save his brother. So he spoke and said, “You can never kill my brother. He is too great a wizard. He has the greatest charms on earth. He eats fire and blows it from his mouth with clouds of smoke. Beware, I tell you,—do not attempt to injure him, for if you do he will torture you in the flames. You will be unable to escape for the smell of his fire travels a great distance and is great magic. If you do not believe me come and look after the evening meal and see for yourselves.”

Then did the wolves laugh and say, “You are somewhat of a liar but we will come and see.”

The dog was very angry then.

When evening came the wolves gathered around the hunter’s lodge and watched him eat his meal. When he had finished they saw him take a brand of flaming fire and put it to his face. Then he waved the flame in front of his face and it disappeared. Then smoke in volumes issued from his mouth because the fire must have entered his stomach and be burning. Sparks flew in the wind and they smelled the smoke of the fire. They had never seen such a performance before and were frightened. So they did not dare attack the man at night. They ran back in the forest and hid. The next day the dog went and found them. Then the wolves said, “We can not kill your brother, he is too great a conjurer. His power is too much for us to fight. We are glad you told us.”

Now this was all right. The dog did not tell his master but defended him with his wits. If one is kind to a dog he will never know how many times the dog will save him from danger and death. That is all.

40. THE TURTLE’S WAR PARTY.[41]

Turtles have never done anything wonderful since the foundation of the world. This is what a discontented turtle thought. “Now it is for me to show myself a leader of warriors and thus bring glory to the turtles.”

Thus the turtle set about to devise a song by which he should call volunteers together. After a prolonged study he composed a tune and chose the words of a stirring war song, crawled into his canoe and paddled down the river, singing as he went.

A wolf running along the shore lifted his head and pricked his ears as he heard this odd song floating down the river, and listening, caught its import. When the turtle came near he began to yelp.

“I am a famous warrior and will volunteer,” he shouted.

The turtle grounded his canoe and crawled up the bank to inspect his would-be recruit.

“Well, what can you do, wolf?” said he.

“Oh ho! I can run,” said the wolf and then started off at a furious pace and returning asked what impression he had made.

“Now it seems to me,” answered the turtle as he started to turn around, “you would be very apt to desert me when I most needed your support, so I say good-bye.”

Going back to his canoe he tumbled in and paddled down the stream, once more singing.

A fox barked and waving his brush signalled the singing turtle.

“I will be your follower for I am a cunning warrior,” said the fox.

Pushing the canoe ashore the turtle flopped out and ambled up to the fox.

“Now warrior,” said he, “show me your excellence.”

The fox gave a sudden spring and was out of sight before the turtle could turn to look, then bounding back asked if he were not skillful indeed.

“Your feet may be swift,” replied the turtle, “but I see no signs of a warrior in you,” and pushing his way over the pebbles he reseated himself in his canoe. Paddling out into midstream he resumed his singing and after some time was hailed again. Landing he found a new volunteer in the form of a skunk.

“Well now what can you do,” said the turtle looking at the handsome creature before him.

Without moving from his tracks the skunk gave a satisfactory demonstration of his ability, to the turtle’s great delight.

“Jump in, Sē´no‘, two brave fellows as we can collect a most formidable party,” said the turtle, and he changed the words of his song as he paddled.

A rattlesnake next offered his services and when he had shaken his rattles and shown his fangs, was accepted.

“Tumble in,” said the turtle, “and we will sing until another warrior as brave as we is added to our party.” So all sang, as they coursed down the stream.

The song attracted a hedgehog, and wishing to become a warrior too, he shouted from the shore.

“Well, what can you do?” inquired the turtle as the canoe neared the bank.

“I can shoot my arrows,” said the hedgehog, and mounting a stump shook himself until his quills flew in all directions.

“You are my warrior,” said the turtle as he shoved his canoe to a convenient embarking point.

When the hedgehog had climbed over the side of the canoe and the war party had paddled off from the shore, the turtle swelled proud in his skill and sang a mighty war song defying all foes.

The party counselled together and decided to make their first attack upon a human settlement. Reaching a short distance below they secreted their canoe and crawled stealthily through the bushes and grass to a lodge not far from the river. It was evening and the party resolved to take their positions of attack and await the coming of dawn. The skunk lay at the back door, the hedgehog at the wood pile, the snake coiled in the kindling barrel and the turtle hid beneath the rocks of the spring and morning found them ready to fight.

A woman pushed aside the curtain of the lodge door and stepped out of doors. The skunk was on the alert and shot her full at her face. The woman with a groan fell upon him and beat his head flat with her fists. Another woman, hearing the commotion rushed out and standing at the wood pile to watch her distressed sister received a sudden shock. The hedgehog ran between her legs and filled them full of his sharp barbed quills. With a scream the woman dealt her assailant a death blow with a billet of wood and ran screaming into the house. Soon, out came another woman bearing a basket which she set down in the kindling barrel as she paused to look at the dead bodies of the hedgehog and the skunk. Through the splints she saw the coils of a snake. She picked up a heavy stone and flung it into the barrel and killed the snake before he had had a chance to strike.

A man now emerged from the lodge laughing, “Ha, ha! Women are always in trouble, Hoh ho!” Laughing at the discomfort of his wife and sisters he ran down the spring path and sank his clay kettle beneath the surface of the spring. This was now the turtle’s opportunity and with a furious leap he fastened his jaws in the man’s leg. The man endeavored to suppress a howl as he felt the sudden pain and tried to beat off his enemy, but the turtle’s jaw was set and his back was armored.

“Oh get off,” begged the man doing his best to conceal his suffering, but the turtle only bit deeper.

Loudly the man cried and then began to threaten to kill the turtle. “I will drag you into the fire,” he said. This so frightened the turtle that he began to waver with fear but gathering up courage determined to escape without crying for quarter, so he said, “Hurry then, put me in the fire, it is my natural home and I am lonesome, hurry now!”

The man groaned and cried in desperation, “The river for you, I will drown you!”

The turtle pleaded most earnestly to be spared that fate but the man was resolute and limping to the river he thrust in his leg. The turtle gripped until he bit through the leg bone, then relaxing his jaws, he swam rapidly under the water and crawled out in a sheltered spot.

“Agī´!” exclaimed the man as he crawled to his lodge, “I am glad he is drowned.”

The turtle found his canoe but was unable to push it back up the stream against the swift current. Discouraged, he sank it and swam back to land where he lay lamenting his failures, then he turned on his back as if dead and gave himself up to grief. Grief gave place to meditation and at last he righted himself and crawled away saying:

“No, I am not a great chief, but I am a turtle and am satisfied, for the glory of turtles is that the earth and all creation rests upon the back of one. That is good enough.”

41. THE RACE OF THE TURTLE AND THE BEAVER.

There was a turtle who lived in a deep hole in a stream. He lingered there and it was a favorite spot for his fishing. On the shore there was a swampy place where he hid himself when not in the stream.

One day it grew very cold and the turtle felt very sleepy. He looked about for a soft spot in the mud and found one beneath some tall sheltering rushes. “Here I will sleep,” said he. So saying he slept.

When he opened his eyes there was a vast expanse of water over his head. Everything had changed and all the rushes had vanished. He threw off the mud blanket that covered him and ambled out on the floor of his resting place. “Iik,” he exclaimed. “Something has happened. Some magician has taken liberties with my home.” So saying he swam to the surface of the water.

Instead of the little stream with its neighboring swamp he saw a big lake. As far as he could see there was a lake. He looked about and saw an island in the lake and to it he swam. It was covered with sticks, and when he crawled upon it there was a hollow sound within, which frightened Turtle and caused him to slip quietly off and conceal himself.

Soon he saw a dark form emerge from the water beneath the island and rise to the surface.

Craftily Turtle raised his head and called. “Who are you?” Then he submerged quickly.

There was a whistling answer, a slap of the water and a voice said, “I am Beaver. Who are you?”

“So that is the case,” thought Turtle. “So someone has stolen my fishing place.” He was very angry and swam to the shore where he saw all kinds of branches broken up by cutting.

Soon he heard someone say, “Get out of my way.”

Turtle looked up and saw Beaver dragging a branch.

“One would think,” answered Turtle that it should be I who said ‘get out of my way’.”

“Well, what right have you here?” asked Beaver.

“This is my home,” said Turtle. “I have lived here a long time.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed Beaver. “If this is your home, where is your house? Now I say this is my home, for there is my house.” He pointed to the thing that Turtle had thought an island.

“How did you get here?” asked Turtle.

“I came here and built a dam, made this lake, and now I have a house here.”

“I came here long ago,” said Turtle, “and built a fishing hole. My abiding place is in the swamp. You, Oh Beaver, have no right to spoil my home. It is my intention to break down your dam and restore my home.”

“Well,” said Beaver, “that would not do us any good for I would build another and others of my tribe would catch you and gnaw your head off.”

“How shall we settle this thing?” asked Turtle.

“We will see who can stay under water longest,” said Turtle.

“No, that would be too easy for me,” said Beaver. “I could sleep a year under water. I was going to ask that as a test myself. I propose that we run a race.”

Turtle was vexed, for he did not wish Beaver to win, and so he did not insist upon the under water test. He was also crafty. So he said:

“Whoever wins the race shall stay here; whoso loses shall depart. First we shall have a trial of racing, and then the race will begin.”

So they both came abreast in the water and started to swim. Soon Turtle called Beaver back. “Now we will begin again,” said he, with a wicked gleam in his black beady eye.

As they were about to start, Turtle said, “I will purposely lag behind. When I pinch your tail then we will both start swimming.”

Soon Turtle bit Beaver’s tail and both started swimming, but crafty Turtle hung onto Beaver and was dragged through the water until within sight of shore, when he bit harder than ever.

Beaver gave a big grunt and whistled, “So you are there behind me? Well, I will win yet!”

Turtle bit again, this time harder than ever, making Beaver squeal with pain. “I’ll fix you for this,” he called, and flopped his tail over his head. Turtle hung on, and when he felt himself over Beaver’s head he let go and continued to speed through the air like a flying squirrel. Far upon the shore he landed, way ahead of Beaver.

“I have won this race,” he called back defiantly. “You must go away from here; this is my fishing pond.”

Thereupon, Beaver was greatly vexed, and swam away to nurse his sore tail. Turtle had outwitted him.

42. THE WOLF AND THE RACCOON AND HOW THE BIRDS WERE PAINTED.

There was a wolf, T‘hă‘hyoñ´nī‘, a friend of the birds. He always helped the birds and told them where to find food. Now Djoagă’, the raccoon disliked Tah´yoni and when he met him one day he made insulting remarks. Tah´yonĭ’ became angry and snapped at Djoaga. The raccoon rolled over on his back and with teeth and claws was on the defensive. Tah´yonĭ’ then did not want to fight. The raccoon did not wish to fight, moreover. So when the wolf turned his head Djoagă ran up a tree where he could insult Tah´yonĭ’ without danger. A wolf cannot climb a tree. It was night now. So the wolf sat beneath the tree and quarreled with the raccoon. He sang:

“Djoaga, Djoaga! Diotion so go ge se da o!
Djoaga, Djoaga! Diotion so go ge se da o!”

The raccoon replied:

“Tah´yonĭ, Tah´yonĭ! Diotion so go ge se da o!
Tah´yonĭ, Tah´yonĭ! Diotion so go ge se da o!”

So back and forth they sang alternately all night. Towards morning the raccoon discovered that his enemy below was strangely silent. He did not respond to his insults, neither did he sing his threats. So Djoaga sang again and listening heard no response. “He is asleep,” he thought. “I will climb down and see.” Djoaga descended cautiously and looked at the wolf. True he was asleep. “Now I have you to advantage,” said Djoaga softly. Then he squatted his haunches and covered Tah´yonĭ’s eyes with pitch and clay. When he had done this he ran off thinking that he had done a great trick. Then he laughed. “Tah´yonĭ’ went to sleep,” he chuckled. “It is better not to sleep if you wish to get the best of a fight.” After that he ran off into the woods to relate his joke.

Now then the wolf was very tired and did not awaken until noon. It was dark to him and he could not open his eyes. There seemed to be a dried plaster sealing them over. This frightened Tah´yonĭ’. Then he howled. He called the birds. So first came the tree tappers. Tah´yonĭ’ said, “Remove the plaster from my eyes and I will reward you with whatever you may ask.” So now then the birds began to eat the plaster from his eyelids and after a while he was able to see. Then he was very grateful to the birds, so he asked them what they desired most and they answered that they would like to be painted. So he painted the birds. Some he striped, some he spotted and some he mottled. He painted birds, blue, red, black, white, green, yellow, and all the colors. The birds were very glad then that they had helped the wolf for now they were handsome to look upon. Thus came there to be different colored birds so it is said by the ga-gä (legends). So it ends, the tale.

43. THE CHIPMUNK’S STRIPES.

There was a hungry bear. He could find nothing to eat. At length he caught a chipmunk and held it a prisoner. After a while he intended to eat it. Now the bear was about to eat the chipmunk when the little animal begged that it might be allowed to sing his death chant and dance his last dance. So the bear let him free for a time but watched him closely. Now the chipmunk sang this song:

Si! Si! Oyade agadiangwa! Sa hi hi hi hi!
(Si! Si! Hole I wish for! Sa hi hi hi hi!)

Now he sang this over and over as he danced over the leaf mold of the forest. After some time he felt a soft spot and thought a hole might be beneath. He gave a jump and sank in but the bear was watching and as he disappeared down the hole he grabbed the chipmunk by the neck and drew his four claws over its length. This hurt the chipmunk and tore his skin. After that scabs formed and when they came off the chipmunk had stripes on his back. He was glad that he had escaped. Now it is said that so came the stripes of the chipmunk. So it ends.

44. THE RABBIT SONG.

There was a certain woman who was accustomed to ridiculing Gwaio, the rabbit. She called him Honishogwadusshe. Usually she called him Hegowa (gallops). One day Gwaio was running by this woman’s house. She saw him and came out to deride him for she always thought rabbits queer animals. When she saw him she sang a song. This is what she sang:

He´gowa, He´gowa! Ne’´ho ni´shogwadase oi‘ daĕ‘!
(Gallops, Gallops! There growing all around, hair is!)

Now this made Gwaio embarrassed and he hastened to escape from the sound of the song. He ran very far but soon saw the woman again singing as before.

“Gallops, Gallops, with hair circling round!”

Then he ran fast again and when he thought that he had escaped he heard the woman singing again,

“Gallops, Gallops, with hair circling round!”

This made him angry and he was mystified to know how the woman could be ever before him singing her song when he had passed her twice. So he ran again and when he thought himself safe again he saw her before him singing as before,

“Gallops, Gallops, with hair circling round!”

Again he ran and hearing her sing once more fell exhausted at her feet tortured by the song and laughter of the merciless woman. He said, “O woman, you must be a great witch to be ever before me when I pass you.”

Then the woman laughed and said, “O rabbit you must be a great fool not to know that I have not moved and that you have been running around in a circle. When you ran up to me I sang the song,

“‘Gallops, Gallops, with hair circling round’!”

Now the old people say that when you see a rabbit and wish to kill it to remain still and make ready to shoot. He will come again round a circle and you can kill him. This thing was learned from this legend. Now when you hunt rabbits sing this song when you see one and soon he will appear again for he runs in circles and returns to the same spot in which you saw him first. So now all.

45. THE RABBIT GAMBLER.

In old times there was a rabbit,—Osīda Hodaweo, that was his name. Now Osīda was a gambler and was continually winning games. He had a deadly enemy, Sēno,—that was his name, a skunk. Now this Sēno loved two sisters. He never gambled but always had plenty to eat. Osīda, also loved the same two sisters. He gambled and had stores of goods. So Osīda was the choice of the women but his grandmother said that they would be fickle and would desert him when his luck changed. Then Osīda laughed at the old woman.

His wives were always faithful and cooked good food. Each morning he returned from his gambling. Then he sang a song:

“One Djagwehee! Deiogwaie do-no!
One Djagwehee! Deiogwaie do-no!
Now I am coming home; all night I have gambled!
Now I am coming home; all night I have gambled!”

Then his wives hearing his song in the distance would run out on the trail to greet him. They would sing a song:

“Osida-a-a-a Hada-weo! Dondae!
Osida-a-a-a Hada-weo! Dondae!
Feet Earrings! He is returning!
Feet Earrings! He is returning!”

So it happened this way continuously. Then it changed. One morning he sang his song but his wives did not come to greet him. He did not hear their song. He thought that it was strange. But he kept singing. He had no goods with him. For a long time now he had brought nothing home. His luck had changed. Therefore he wished his wives to come and cheer him but they did not come. He continued to sing until he stood outside the lodge door. He paused and listened but heard no sound within. He thought that was strange. He entered the lodge and it was empty. No one was within. There was a hot meal ready for him and he sat down and ate. He was absent minded and did not see what he was eating. After a time he heard singing in the air above the lodge. He heard the words:

“Ionegattha sago no sothetstsowa Haiasho!
Ionegattha sago no sothetatsowa Hayasho!”

These were the words he heard and then he voided his meal.[42] He ran out of the lodge, and above the trees overhead he saw his wives paddling a canoe through the air. They were not descending. Osīda was sick at stomach but he ran to catch them. They paddled fast and he did not succeed in getting near them for some time. At last he was at the side of the canoe which the women were paddling over the ground. He leaped into the canoe but the women leaped out and hopped away into the bush lands. Osīda chased them but lost sight of his runaway wives.

Now Sēno heard a noise above his burrow and sticking his head from the door saw the women whom he loved running. “Kwe!” he cried, “what is your haste?”

“We are running away from Osīda,” they replied.

“My lodge will be a safe refuge,” he answered with a smile, and beckoned them in. So they entered.

Osīda spied their tracks in the mud and stalked them to a burrow. He was about to run into the hole without looking when a hairy tail of some animal was pushed against his very face. He had no warning and was drenched with Sēno’s fetid water. He fell back and cried loudly for he was greatly in distress. By and by his grandmother came to him. She said something to him, but Osīda did not laugh. He went home with his grandmother.

46. THE RACCOON AND THE CRABS.

There was a raccoon who was fond of crabs. It was his custom to catch the crabs when they swam out from under a rock in the water. After a time the crabs learned how he caught them and when he came near the water they would hide under a flat rock and not come out until a sentinel told them that the raccoon had gone. The raccoon thought it strange that the crabs had grown so wary and resolved to play a trick. He crept to the bank of the brook and lay upon his back pretending to be dead. After some time the crabs crawled out to the bank and looked carefully at the “dead” raccoon. Then the chief of the crabs, Hasanowane Odji’eg´dă, was his name, notified all the crab people to come out and see their dead enemy. Now when they had all assembled the chief said, “He is dead, let us all rejoice. He who destroyed us is himself at last destroyed. So let us rejoice and show our gladness by a dance.” So they danced and this was the song:

Do sa gwe Do sa gwe ga no ho tci do
(Chorus) ie ie ie ie ie ie ie ie!

Soon one of the crabs said, “Are you sure that he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go pinch him and see.” So the crab went and pinched him and the raccoon did not move, so he answered, “Yes, he is dead.” Then they danced again and after a time a crab asked of the chief, “Are you sure he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go and see, then tell us.” So the crab went up and crawled down the raccoon’s throat. When he came out he answered, “Yes, he is dead there is evidence inside.” Then the crabs danced again but after a time a crab asked of the chief, “Are you sure that he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go and see for yourself, then report to me.” So the crab crawled up and pinched the raccoon’s heart. This made the raccoon very angry and he said to himself, “Now is my time to feast, I have waited too long.” So he leaped up and began devouring the crabs and he ate until his belly was gorged. Then he laughed and thought himself a great trickster. Now that is how the raccoon outwitted the crabs. It is said that it is not safe to rejoice at the downfall of an enemy lest he rise again and devour those that thought they danced at his funeral.

47. THE CRAB’S EYES.

Now a crab slept so long that his eyes dried up. When he awoke he did not know where he was. He could not open his eyes because they had dried up in his head. So he strained for a long time. He crawled along endeavoring to find his way to water. As he crawled he kept striving. After a time he came across an obstruction. So he sang this song:

A-di-na-ote sa-hi ga-i‘
De-sa-si-no gwa-do-nio!
What kind of a standing tree
With crooked legs here?

And the tree answered, “I am the oak!”

“Oh! Oh!” cried the crab, “How far I am from water!”

Now he crawled along straining his eyes and singing his song. He asked every tree whose crooked legs he ran against but they answered, maple or beech, and he was discouraged. After a time a tree said, “rock elm.” Then he was encouraged and said, “Water must be near at hand!” So he kept along striving and singing and when he heard a tree call out “willow” he was exultant. He strained still harder and when he struck water the paste over his eyes melted and so intense was he that his eyes shot out of his head and waved about. Now this was convenient for he could see better than he had ever before. So he decided to keep them out where he could adjust them as he wished. Now the old people have said that this was the way the crab got his eyes and it may be true. So it ends.

48. HOW THE SQUIRREL GAVE A BLANKET TO HIS WARRIOR, ROBBED THE WOODCHUCK
OF HIS TAIL AND THE FROG OF HIS TEETH.[43]

There was a time when animals and birds were very large. So, also, trees were more lofty and rivers broader. This was long ago.

Now, in those days there was a great chief of the squirrels, and he was very wise. It was his custom to go stealthily through the forest and watch his people as they worked or sported.

One autumn morning as he lay concealed by the leaves on the limb of a giant oak, he heard a chattering voice call from a hemlock. It was the voice of a squirrel.

“All the autumn days I have been gathering nuts,” said the squirrel in an aggrieved tone, “and yet day by day my store is growing smaller. Who is stealing my hoard? Truly some culprit lurks here and is robbing me of my winter’s food that I have patiently stored in that stump!”