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Indian Why Stories
by Frank B. Linderman
July, 1996 [Etext #607]
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INDIAN WHY
STORIES
SPARKS FROM WAR EAGLE'S
LODGE-FIRE
FRANK B. LINDERMAN
[CO SKEE SEE CO COT]
I DEDICATE THIS LITTLE BOOK TO MY FRIEND
CHARLES M. RUSSELL
THE COWBOY ARTIST
GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL
THE INDIAN'S FRIEND
AND TO ALL OTHERS WHO HAVE KNOWN AND LOVED OLD MONTANA
FOR I HOLD THEM ALL AS KIN
WHO HAVE BUILDED FIRES WHERE NATURE
WEARS NO MAKE-UP ON HER SKIN
PREFACE
THE great Northwest--that wonderful frontier that called to itself a world's hardiest spirits--is rapidly becoming a settled country; and before the light of civilizing influences, the blanket-Indian has trailed the buffalo over the divide that time has set between the pioneer and the crowd. With his passing we have lost much of the aboriginal folk-lore, rich in its fairy-like characters, and its relation to the lives of a most warlike people.
There is a wide difference between folk-lore
of the so-called Old World and that of America.
Transmitted orally through countless generations,
the folk-stories of our ancestors show
many evidences of distortion and of change in
material particulars; but the Indian seems to
have been too fond of nature and too proud of
tradition to have forgotten or changed the
teachings of his forefathers. Childlike in simplicity,
beginning with creation itself, and
reaching to the whys and wherefores of nature's moods
and eccentricities, these tales impress
me as being well worth saving.
The Indian has always been a lover of nature and a close observer of her many moods. The habits of the birds and animals, the voices of the winds and waters, the flickering of the shadows, and the mystic radiance of the moonlight --all appealed to him. Gradually, he formulated within himself fanciful reasons for the myriad manifestations of the Mighty Mother and her many children; and a poet by instinct, he framed odd stories with which to convey his explanations to others. And these stories were handed down from father to son, with little variation, through countless generations, until the white man slaughtered the buffalo, took to himself the open country, and left the red man little better than a beggar. But the tribal story-teller has passed, and only here and there is to be found a patriarch who loves the legends of other days.
OLD-man, or Napa, as he is called by the
tribes of Blackfeet, is the strangest character
in Indian folk-lore. Sometimes he appears as
a god or creator, and again as a fool, a thief,
or a clown. But to the Indian, Napa is not the
Deity; he occupies a somewhat subordinate
position, possessing many attributes which have
sometimes caused him to be confounded with
Manitou, himself. In all of this there is a curious
echo of the teachings of the ancient Aryans,
whose belief it was that this earth was not the
direct handiwork of the Almighty, but of a
mere member of a hierarchy of subordinate gods.
The Indian possesses the highest veneration for
the Great God, who has become familiar to the
readers of Indian literature as Manitou. No
idle tales are told of Him, nor would any Indian
mention Him irreverently. But with Napa it
is entirely different; he appears entitled to no
reverence; he is a strange mixture of the fallible
human and the powerful under-god. He
made many mistakes; was seldom to be trusted;
and his works and pranks run from the sublime
to the ridiculous. In fact, there are many
stories in which Napa figures that will not
bear telling at all.
I propose to tell what I know of these legends, keeping as near as possible to the Indian's style of story-telling, and using only tales told me by the older men of the Blackfeet, Chippewa, and Cree tribes.
CONTENTS
WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED
HOW THE DUCKS GOT THEIR FINE FEATHERS
WHY THE KINGFISHER ALWAYS WEARS A WAR-BONNET
WHY THE CURLEW S BILL IS LONG AND CROOKED
OLD-MAN REMARKS THE WORLD
WHY BLACKFEET NEVER KILL MICE
HOW THE OTTER SKIN BECAME GREAT MEDICINE
OLD-MAN STEALS THE SUN'S LEGGINGS
OLD-MAN AND HIS CONSCIENCE
OLD-MAN'S TREACHERY
WHY THE NIGHT-HAWK'S WINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL
WHY THE MOUNTAIN-LION IS LONG AND LEAN
THE FIRE-LEGGINGS
THE MOON AND THE GREAT SNAKE
WHY THE DEER HAS NO GALL
WHY INDIANS WHIP THE BUFFALO-BERRIES FROM THE BUSHES
OLD-MAN AND THE FOX
WHY THE BIRCH-TREE WEARS THE SLASHES IN ITS BARK
MISTAKES OF OLD-MAN
HOW THE MAN FOUND HIS MATE
DREAMS
RETROSPECTION
INTRODUCTION
It was the moon when leaves were falling,
for Napa had finished painting them for their
dance with the North wind. Just over the
ragged mountain range the big moon hung in
an almost starless sky, and in shadowy outline
every peak lay upon the plain like a giant pattern.
Slowly the light spread and as slowly
the shadows stole away until the October moon
looked down on the great Indian camp--a hundred
lodges, each as perfect in design as the
tusks of a young silver-tip, and all looking
ghostly white in the still of the autumn night.
Back from the camp, keeping within the
ever-moving shadows, a buffalo-wolf skulked
to a hill overlooking the scene, where he stopped
to look and listen, his body silhouetted against
the sky. A dog howled occasionally, and the
weird sound of a tom-tom accompanying the
voice of a singer in the Indian village reached
the wolf's ears, but caused him no alarm; for
not until a great herd of ponies, under the eyes
of the night-herder, drifted too close, did he
steal away.
Near the centre of the camp was the big
painted lodge of War Eagle, the medicine-man,
and inside had gathered his grandchildren, to
whom he was telling the stories of the creation
and of the strange doings of Napa, the creator.
Being a friend of the old historian, I entered unhindered,
and with the children listened until
the hour grew late, and on the lodge-wall the
dying fire made warning shadows dance.
WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED
What a splendid lodge it was, and how
grand War Eagle looked leaning against
his back-rest in the firelight! From the tripod
that supported the back-rest were suspended
his weapons and his medicine-bundle,
each showing the wonderful skill of the maker.
The quiver that held the arrows was combined
with a case for the bow, and colored quills of
the porcupine had been deftly used to make it
a thing of beauty. All about the lodge hung
the strangely painted linings, and the firelight
added richness to both color and design.
War Eagle's hair was white, for he had known
many snows; but his eyes were keen and bright
as a boy's, as he gazed in pride at his grandchildren
across the lodge-fire. He was wise,
and had been in many battles, for his was a
warlike tribe. He knew all about the world
and the people in it. He was deeply religious,
and every Indian child loved him for his goodness
and brave deeds.
About the fire were Little Buffalo Calf, a boy of eleven years; Eyes-in-the-Water, his sister, a girl of nine; Fine Bow, a cousin of these, aged ten, and Bluebird, his sister, who was but eight years old.
Not a sound did the children make while
the old warrior filled his great pipe, and only
the snapping of the lodge-fire broke the stillness.
Solemnly War Eagle lit the tobacco
that had been mixed with the dried inner bark
of the red willow, and for several minutes
smoked in silence, while the children's eyes
grew large with expectancy. Finally he spoke:
"Napa, OLD-man, is very old indeed. He
made this world, and all that is on it. He
came out of the south, and travelled toward
the north, making the birds and animals as
he passed. He made the perfumes for the
winds to carry about, and he even made the
war-paint for the people to use. He was a
busy worker, but a great liar and thief, as I
shall show you after I have told you more
about him. It was OLD-man who taught the
beaver all his cunning. It was OLD-man who
told the bear to go to sleep when the snow grew
deep in winter, and it was he who made the
curlew's bill so long and crooked, although it
was not that way at first. OLD-man used to
live on this world with the animals and birds.
There was no other man or woman then, and
he was chief over all the animal-people and
the bird-people. He could speak the language
of the robin, knew the words of the
bear, and understood the sign-talk of the
beaver, too. He lived with the wolves, for
they are the great hunters. Even to-day we
make the same sign for a smart man as we
make for the wolf; so you see he taught them
much while he lived with them. OLD-man
made a great many mistakes in making things,
as I shall show you after a while; yet he worked
until he had everything good. But he often
made great mischief and taught many wicked
things. These I shall tell you about some
day. Everybody was afraid of OLD-man and
his tricks and lies--even the animal-people,
before he made men and women. He used to
visit the lodges of our people and make trouble
long ago, but he got so wicked that Manitou
grew angry at him, and one day in the month
of roses, he built a lodge for OLD-man and told
him that he must stay in it forever. Of course
he had to do that, and nobody knows where
the lodge was built, nor in what country, but
that is why we never see him as our grandfathers
did, long, long ago.
"What I shall tell you now happened when
the world was young. It was a fine summer
day, and OLD-man was travelling in the
forest. He was going north and straight as
an arrow--looking at nothing, hearing nothing.
No one knows what he was after, to
this day. The birds and forest-people spoke
politely to him as he passed but he answered
none of them. The Pine-squirrel, who is always
trying to find out other people's business,
asked him where he was going, but OLD-man
wouldn't tell him. The woodpecker hammered
on a dead tree to make him look that way,
but he wouldn't. The Elk-people and the Deerpeople
saw him pass, and all said that he
must be up to some mischief or he would stop
and talk a while. The pine-trees murmured,
and the bushes whispered their greeting, but
he kept his eyes straight ahead and went on
travelling.
"The sun was low when OLD-man heard a
groan" (here War Eagle groaned to show the
children how it sounded), "and turning about
he saw a warrior lying bruised and bleeding
near a spring of cold water. OLD-man knelt
beside the man and asked: 'Is there war in this
country? '
"'Yes,' answered the man. 'This whole
day long we have fought to kill a Person, but
we have all been killed, I am afraid.'
"'That is strange,' said OLD-man; 'how can
one Person kill so many men? Who is this
Person, tell me his name!' but the man didn't
answer--he was dead. When OLD-man saw
that life had left the wounded man, he drank
from the spring, and went on toward the north,
but before long he heard a noise as of men
fighting, and he stopped to look and listen.
Finally he saw the bushes bend and sway near
a creek that flowed through the forest. He
crawled toward the spot, and peering through
the brush saw a great Person near a pile of
dead men, with his back against a pine-tree.
The Person was full of arrows, and he was
pulling them from his ugly body. Calmly the
Person broke the shafts of the arrows, tossed
them aside, and stopped the blood flow with
a brush of his hairy hand. His head was
large and fierce-looking, and his eyes were
small and wicked. His great body was larger
than that of a buffalo-bull and covered with
scars of many battles.
"OLD-man went to the creek, and with his buffalo-horn cup brought some water to the Person, asking as he approached:
"'Who are you, Person? Tell me, so I
can make you a fine present, for you are great
in war.'
"'I am Bad Sickness,' replied the Person. 'Tribes I have met remember me and always will, for their bravest warriors are afraid when I make war upon them. I come in the night or I visit their camps in daylight. It is always the same; they are frightened and I kill them easily.'
" 'Ho!' said OLD-man, 'tell me how to make Bad Sickness, for I often go to war myself.' He lied; for he was never in a battle in his life. The Person shook his ugly head and then OLDman said:
" 'If you will tell me how to make Bad Sickness
I will make you small and handsome.
When you are big, as you now are, it is very
hard to make a living; but when you are small,
little food will make you fat. Your living
will be easy because I will make your food
grow everywhere.'
"'Good,' said the Person, 'I will do it; you must kill the fawns of the deer and the calves of the elk when they first begin to live. When you have killed enough of them you must make a robe of their skins. Whenever you wear that robe and sing--"now you sicken, now you sicken," the sickness will come-- that is all there is to it. '
"'Good,' said OLD-man, 'now lie down to sleep and I will do as I promised.'
"The Person went to sleep and OLD-man
breathed upon him until he grew so tiny that
he laughed to see how small he had made him.
Then he took out his paint sack and striped
the Person's back with black and yellow. It
looked bright and handsome and he waked the
Person, who was now a tiny animal with a
bushy tail to make him pretty.
"'Now,' said OLD-man, 'you are the Chipmunk,
and must always wear those striped
clothes. All of your children and their children,
must wear them, too.'
"After the Chipmunk had looked at himself,
and thanked OLD-man for his new clothes,
he wanted to know how he could make his
living, and OLD-man told him what to eat, and
said he must cache the pine-nuts when the
leaves turned yellow, so he would not have
to work in the winter time.
"'You are a cousin to the Pine-squirrel,' said OLD-man, 'and you will hunt and hide as he does. You will be spry and your living will be easy to make if you do as I have told you.'
"He taught the Chipmunk his language
and his signs, showed him where to live, and
then left him, going on toward the north again.
He kept looking for the cow-elk and doe-deer,
and it was not long before he had killed enough
of their young to make the robe as the Person
told him, for they were plentiful before the
white man came to live on the world. He
found a shady place near a creek, and there
made the robe that would make Bad Sickness
whenever he sang the queer song, but
the robe was plain, and brown in color. He
didn't like the looks of it. Suddenly he thought
how nice the back of the Chipmunk looked
after he had striped it with his paints. He
got out his old paint sack and with the same
colors made the robe look very much like
the clothes of the Chipmunk. He was proud
of the work, and liked the new robe better;
but being lazy, he wanted to save himself
work, so he sent the South-wind to tell all
the doe-deer and the cow-elk to come to him.
They came as soon as they received the message,
for they were afraid of OLD-man and
always tried to please him. When they had
all reached the place where OLD-man was he
said to them:
"'Do you see this robe?'
"'Yes, we see it,' they replied.
"'Well, I have made it from the skins of
your children, and then painted it to look
like the Chipmunk's back, for I like the looks
of that Person's clothes. I shall need many
more of these robes during my life; and every
time I make one, I don't want to have to spend
my time painting it; so from now on and forever
your children shall be born in spotted
clothes. I want it to be that way to save me
work. On all the fawns there must be spots
of white like this (here he pointed to the spots
on Bad Sickness's robe) and on all of the elkcalves
the spots shall not be so white and
shall be in rows and look rather yellow.' Again
he showed them his robe, that they might see
just what he wanted.
"'Remember,' he said, 'after this I don't
want to see any of your children running about
wearing plain clothing, because that
would mean more painting for me. Now go away,
and remember what I have said, lest I make
you sick. '
"The cow-elk and the doe-deer were glad to know that their children's clothes would be beautiful, and they went away to their little ones who were hidden in the tall grass, where the wolves and mountain-lions would have a hard time finding them; for you know that in the tracks of the fawn there is no scent, and the wolf cannot trail him when he is alone. That is the way Manitou takes care of the weak, and all of the forest-people know about it, too.
"Now you know why the Chipmunk's back
is striped, and why the fawn and elk-calf wear
their pretty clothes.
"I hear the owls, and it is time for all young men who will some day be great warriors to go to bed, and for all young women to seek rest, lest beauty go away forever. Ho!"
HOW THE DUCKS GOT THEIR FINE FEATHERS
Another night had come, and I made
my way toward War Eagle's lodge. In
the bright moonlight the dead leaves of the
quaking-aspen fluttered down whenever the
wind shook the trees; and over the village
great flocks of ducks and geese and swan passed
in a never-ending procession, calling to each
other in strange tones as they sped away toward
the waters that never freeze.
In the lodge War Eagle waited for his grandchildren,
and when they had entered, happily,
he laid aside his pipe and said:
"The Duck-people are travelling to-night just as they have done since the world was young. They are going away from winter because they cannot make a living when ice covers the rivers.
"You have seen the Duck-people often.
You have noticed that they wear fine clothes
but you do not know how they got them; so
I will tell you to-night.
"It was in the fall when leaves are yellow
that it happened, and long, long ago. The
Duck-people had gathered to go away, just as
they are doing now. The buck-deer was coming
down from the high ridges to visit friends
in the lowlands along the streams as they have
always done. On a lake OLD-man saw the
Duck-people getting ready to go away, and
at that time they all looked alike; that is, they
all wore the same colored clothes. The loons
and the geese and the ducks were there and
playing in the sunlight. The loons were laughing
loudly and the diving was fast and merry
to see. On the hill where OLD-man stood there
was a great deal of moss, and he began to tear
it from the ground and roll it into a great ball.
When he had gathered all he needed he shouldered
the load and started for the shore of
the lake, staggering under the weight of the
great burden. Finally the Duck-people saw
him coming with his load of moss and began
to swim away from the shore.
"'Wait, my brothers!' he called, 'I have a big load here, and I am going to give you people a dance. Come and help me get things ready. '
"'Don't you do it,' said the gray goose to the others; 'that's OLD-man and he is up to something bad, I am sure.'
"So the loon called to OLD-man and said they wouldn't help him at all.
"Right near the water OLD-man dropped his ball of moss and then cut twenty long poles. With the poles he built a lodge which he covered with the moss, leaving a doorway facing the lake. Inside the lodge he built a fire and when it grew bright he cried:
"'Say, brothers, why should you treat me
this way when I am here to give you a big
dance? Come into the lodge,' but they
wouldn't do that. Finally OLD-man began to
sing a song in the duck-talk, and keep time
with his drum. The Duck-people liked the
music, and swam a little nearer to the shore,
watching for trouble all the time, but OLDman
sang so sweetly that pretty soon they
waddled up to the lodge and went inside.
The loon stopped near the door, for he believed
that what the gray goose had said was
true, and that OLD-man was up to some mischief.
The gray goose, too, was careful to
stay close to the door but the ducks reached
all about the fire. Politely, OLDman
passed the pipe, and they all smoked with him because
it is wrong not to smoke in a person's
lodge if the pipe is offered, and the Duckpeople
knew that.
"'Well,' said Old-man, 'this is going to be the Blind-dance, but you will have to be painted first.
"'Brother Mallard, name the colors--tell how you want me to paint you.'
"'Well,' replied the mallard drake, 'paint my head green, and put a white circle around my throat, like a necklace. Besides that, I want a brown breast and yellow legs: but I don't want my wife painted that way.'
"OLD-man painted him just as he asked,
and his wife, too. Then the teal and the
wood-duck (it took a long time to paint the
wood-duck) and the spoonbill and the bluebill
and the canvasback and the goose and
the brant and the loon--all chose their paint.
OLD-man painted them all just as they wanted
him to, and kept singing all the time. They
looked very pretty in the firelight, for it was
night before the painting was done.
"'Now,' said OLD-man, 'as this is the Blinddance,
when I beat upon my drum you must
all shut your eyes tight and circle around the
fire as I sing. Every one that peeks will have
sore eyes forever.'
"Then the Duck-people shut their eyes and
OLD-man began to sing: 'Now you come, ducks,
now you come--tum-tum, tum; tum-tum,
tum.'
"Around the fire they came with their eyes
still shut, and as fast as they reached OLD-man,
the rascal would seize them, and wring their
necks. Ho! things were going fine for OLDman,
but the loon peeked a little, and saw
what was going on; several others heard the
fluttering and opened their eyes, too. The
loon cried out, 'He's killing us--let us fly,'
and they did that. There was a great squawking
and quacking and fluttering as the Duckpeople
escaped from the lodge. Ho! but OLDman
was angry, and he kicked the back of
the loon-duck, and that is why his feet turn
from his body when he walks or tries to stand.
Yes, that is why he is a cripple to-day.
"And all of the Duck-people that peeked that night at the dance still have sore eyes-- just as OLD-man told them they would have. Of course they hurt and smart no more but they stay red to pay for peeking, and always will. You have seen the mallard and the rest of the Duck-people. You can see that the colors OLD-man painted so long ago are still bright and handsome, and they will stay that way forever and forever. Ho!"
WHY THE KINGFISHER ALWAYS
WEARS A WAR-BONNET
Autumn nights on the upper Missouri
river in Montana are indescribably beautiful,
and under their spell imagination is a
constant companion to him who lives in wilderness,
lending strange, weird echoes to the
voice of man or wolf, and unnatural shapes
in shadow to commonplace forms.
The moon had not yet climbed the distant mountain range to look down on the humbler lands when I started for War Eagle's lodge; and dimming the stars in its course, the milkyway stretched across the jewelled sky. "The wolf's trail," the Indians call this filmy streak that foretells fair weather, and to-night it promised much, for it seemed plainer and brighter than ever before.
"How--how!" greeted War Eagle, making
the sign for me to be seated near him, as I
entered his lodge. Then he passed me his
pipe and together we smoked until the children
came.
Entering quietly, they seated themselves in exactly the same positions they had occupied on the previous evenings, and patiently waited in silence. Finally War Eagle laid the pipe away and said: "Ho! Little Buffalo Calf, throw a big stick on the fire and I will tell you why the Kingfisher wears a war-bonnet."
The boy did as he was bidden. The sparks jumped toward the smoke-hole and the blaze lighted up the lodge until it was bright as daytime, when War Eagle continued:
"You have often seen Kingfisher at his fishing
along the rivers, I know; and you have
heard him laugh in his queer way, for he laughs
a good deal when he flies. That same laugh
nearly cost him his life once, as you will see.
I am sure none could see the Kingfisher without
noticing his great head-dress, but not many
know how he came by it because it happened
so long ago that most men have forgotten.
"It was one day in the winter-time when
OLD-man and the Wolf were hunting. The
snow covered the land and ice was on all of the
rivers. It was so cold that OLD-man wrapped
his robe close about himself and his breath
showed white in the air. Of course the Wolf
was not cold; wolves never get cold as men
do. Both OLD-man and the Wolf were hungry
for they had travelled far and had killed no
meat. OLD-man was complaining and grumbling,
for his heart is not very good. It is
never well to grumble when we are doing our
best, because it will do no good and makes us
weak in our hearts. When our hearts are
weak our heads sicken and our strength goes
away. Yes, it is bad to grumble.
"When the sun was getting low OLD-man
and the Wolf came to a great river. On the
ice that covered the water, they saw four fat
Otters playing.
"'There is meat,' said the Wolf; 'wait here and I will try to catch one of those fellows.'
"'No!--No!' cried OLD-man, 'do not run
after the Otter on the ice, because there are
air-holes in all ice that covers rivers, and you
may fall in the water and die.' OLD-man
didn't care much if the Wolf did drown. He
was afraid to be left alone and hungry in the
snow--that was all.
"'Ho!' said the Wolf, 'I am swift of foot and my teeth are white and sharp. What chance has an Otter against me? Yes, I will go,' and he did.
"Away ran the Otters with the Wolf after
them, while OLD-man stood on the bank and
shivered with fright and cold. Of course the
Wolf was faster than the Otter, but he was
running on the ice, remember, and slipping
a good deal. Nearer and nearer ran the Wolf.
In fact he was just about to seize an Otter,
when SPLASH!--into an air-hole all the
Otters went. Ho ! the Wolf was going so fast
he couldn't stop, and SWOW! into the airhole
he went like a badger after mice, and the
current carried him under the ice. The Otters
knew that hole was there. That was their
country and they were running to reach that
same hole all the time, but the Wolf didn't
know that.
"Old-man saw it all and began to cry and
wail as women do. Ho! but he made a great
fuss. He ran along the bank of the river,
stumbling in the snowdrifts, and crying like
a woman whose child is dead; but it was because
he didn't want to be left in that country
alone that he cried--not because he
loved his brother, the Wolf. On and on he
ran until he came to a place where the water
was too swift to freeze, and there he waited and
watched for the Wolf to come out from under
the ice, crying and wailing and making an
awful noise, for a man.
"Well--right there is where the thing happened.
You see, Kingfisher can't fish through
the ice and he knows it, too; so he always
finds places like the one OLD-man found. He
was there that day, sitting on the limb of a
birch-tree, watching for fishes, and when OLDman
came near to Kingfisher's tree, crying
like an old woman, it tickled the Fisher so
much that he laughed that queer, chattering
laugh.
"OLD-man heard him and--Ho! but he was
angry. He looked about to see who was
laughing at him and that made Kingfisher
laugh again, longer and louder than before.
This time OLD-man saw him and SWOW! he
threw his war-club at Kingfisher; tried to kill
the bird for laughing. Kingfisher ducked so
quickly that OLD-man's club just grazed the
feathers on his head, making them stand up
straight.
"'There,' said OLD-man, 'I'll teach you to laugh at me when I'm sad. Your feathers are standing up on the top of your head now and they will stay that way, too. As long as you live you must wear a head-dress, to pay for your laughing, and all your children must do the same.
"This was long, long ago, but the Kingfishers
have not forgotten, and they all wear
war-bonnets, and always will as long as there
are Kingfishers.
"Now I will say good night, and when
the sun sleeps again I will tell you why the
curlew's bill is so long and crooked. Ho!"
WHY THE CURLEW'S BILL IS LONG AND CROOKED
When we reached War Eagle's lodge
we stopped near the door, for the old
fellow was singing--singing some old, sad
song of younger days and keeping time with
his tom-tom. Somehow the music made me
sad and not until it had ceased, did we enter.
"How! How!"--he greeted us, with no trace
of the sadness in his voice that I detected
in his song.
"You have come here to-night to learn why the Curlew's bill is so long and crooked. I will tell you, as I promised, but first I must smoke."
In silence we waited until the pipe was laid aside, then War Eagle began:
"By this time you know that OLD-man was not always wise, even if he did make the world, and all that is on it. He often got into trouble but something always happened to get him out of it. What I shall tell you now will show you that it is not well to try to do things just because others do them. They may be right for others, and wrong for us, but OLD-man didn't understand that, you see.
"One day he saw some mice playing and
went near to watch them. It was springtime,
and the frost was just coming out of
the ground. A big flat rock was sticking
out of a bank near a creek, and the sun had
melted the frost from the earth about it, loosening
it, so that it was about to fall. The ChiefMouse
would sing a song, while all the other
mice danced, and then the chief would cry
'now!' and all the mice would run past the
big rock. On the other side, the Chief-Mouse
would sing again, and then say 'now!'--back
they would come--right under the dangerous
rock. Sometimes little bits of dirt would
crumble and fall near the rock. as though
warning the mice that the rock was going to
fall, but they paid no attention to the warning,
and kept at their playing. Finally OLDman
said:
"'Say, Chief-Mouse, I want to try that. I want to play that game. I am a good runner. '
"He wasn't, you know, but he thought he could run. That is often where we make great mistakes--when we try to do things we were not intended to do.
"'No--no!' cried the Chief-Mouse, as OLDman
prepared to make the race past the rock.
'No!--No!--you will shake the ground.
You are too heavy, and the rock may fall and
kill you. My people are light of foot and
fast. We are having a good time, but if you
should try to do as we are doing you might
get hurt, and that would spoil our fun.'
"'Ho!' said OLD-man, 'stand back! I'll show you what a runner I am.'
"He ran like a grizzly bear, and shook the ground with his weight. Swow!--came the great rock on top of OLD-man and held him fast in the mud. My! how he screamed and called for aid. All the Mice-people ran away to find help. It was a long time before the Mice-people found anybody, but they finally found the Coyote, and told him what had happened. Coyote didn't like OLD-man very much, but he said he would go and see what he could do, and he did. The Mice-people showed him the way, and when they all reached the spot--there was OLD-man deep in the mud, with the big rock on his back. He was angry and was saying things people should not say, for they do no good and make the mind wicked.
"Coyote said: 'Keep still, you big baby. Quit kicking about so. You are splashing mud in my eyes. How can I see with my eyes full of mud? Tell me that. I am going to try to help you out of your trouble.' He tried but OLD-man insulted Coyote. and called him a name that is not good, so the Coyote said, 'Well, stay there,' and went away.
"Again OLD-man began to call for helpers,
and the Curlew, who was flying over, saw the
trouble, and came down to the ground to help.
In those days Curlew had a short, stubby bill,
and he thought that he could break the rock
by pecking it. He pecked and pecked away
without making any headway, till OLD-man
grew angry at him, as he did at the Coyote.
The harder the Curlew worked, the worse OLDman
scolded him. OLD-man lost his temper
altogether, you see, which is a bad thing to do,
for we lose our friends with it, often. Temper
is like a bad dog about a lodge--no friends
will come to see us when he is about.
"Curlew did his best but finally said: 'I'll
go and try to find somebody else to help you.
I guess I am too small and weak. I shall come
back to you.' He was standing close to OLDman
when he spoke, and OLD-man reached out
and grabbed the Curlew by the bill. Curlew
began to scream--oh, my--oh, my--oh,
my--as you still hear them in the air when it
is morning. OLD-man hung onto the bill and
finally pulled it out long and slim, and bent
it downward, as it is to-day. Then he let go
and laughed at the Curlew.
"'You are a queer-looking bird now. That is a homely bill, but you shall always wear it and so shall all of your children, as long as there are Curlews in the world.'
"I have forgotten who it was that got OLDman
out of his trouble, but it seems to me it
was the bear. Anyhow he did get out somehow,
and lived to make trouble, until Manitou
grew tired of him.
"There are good things that OLD-man did
and to-morrow night, if you will come early,
I will tell you how OLD-man made the world
over after the water made its war on the land,
scaring all the animal-people and the birdpeople.
I will also tell you how he made
the first man and the first woman and who
they were. But now the grouse is fast asleep;
nobody is stirring but those who were made to
see in the dark, like the owl and the wolf.-- Ho!"
OLD-MAN REMAKES THE WORLD
The sun was just sinking behind the hills when we started for War Eagle's lodge.
"To-morrow will be a fine day," said Otherperson,
"for grandfather says that a red sky
is always the sun's promise of fine weather,
and the sun cannot lie."
"Yes," said Bluebird, "and he said that when this moon was new it travelled well south for this time of year and its points were up. That means fine, warm weather."
"I wish I knew as much as grandfather," said Fine-bow with pride.
The pipe was laid aside at once upon our entering the lodge and the old warrior said:
"I have told you that OLD-man taught the
animals and the birds all they know. He
made them and therefore knew just what
each would have to understand in order to
make his living. They have never forgotten
anything he told them--even to this day.
Their grandfathers told the young ones what
they had been told, just as I am telling you
the things you should know. Be like the
birds and animals--tell your children and
grandchildren what I have told you, that
our people may always know how things were
made, and why strange things are true.
"Yes--OLD-man taught the Beaver how to
build his dams to make the water deeper;
taught the Squirrel to plant the pine-nut so
that another tree might grow and have nuts
for his children; told the Bear to go to sleep
in the winter, when the snow made hard travelling
for his short legs--told him to sleep, and
promised him that he would need no meat
while he slept. All winter long the Bear
sleeps and eats nothing, because OLDman
told him that he could. He sleeps so much in the
winter that he spends most of his time in
summer hunting.
"It was OLD-man who showed the Owl how
to hunt at night and it was OLD-man that
taught the Weasel all his wonderful ways--
his bloodthirsty ways--for the Weasel is
the bravest of the animal-people, considering
his size. He taught the Beaver one strange
thing that you have noticed, and that is to
lay sticks on the creek-bottoms, so that they
will stay there as long as he wants them to.
"Whenever the animal-people got into
trouble they always sought OLD-man and told
him about it. All were busy working and
making a living, when one day it commenced
to rain. That was nothing, of course, but it
didn't stop as it had always done before. No,
it kept right on raining until the rivers overran
their banks, and the water chased the
Weasel out of his hole in the ground. Yes,
and it found the Rabbit's hiding-place and
made him leave it. It crept into the lodge
of the Wolf at night and frightened his wife
and children. It poured into the den of the
Bear among the rocks and he had to move. It
crawled under the logs in the forest and
found the Mice-people. Out it went to the
plains and chased them out of their homes in
the buffalo skulls. At last the Beavers' dams
broke under the strain and that made everything
worse. It was bad--very bad, indeed.
Everybody except the fish-people were frightened
and all went to find OLD-man that they
might tell him what had happened. Finally
they found his fire, far up on a timbered bench,
and they said that they wanted a council
right away.
"It was a strange sight to see the Eagle sitting next to the Grouse; the Rabbit sitting close to the Lynx; the Mouse right under the very nose of the Bobcat, and the tiny Humming -bird talking to the Hawk in a whisper, as though they had always been great friends. All about OLD-man's fire they sat and whispered or talked in signs. Even the Deer spoke to the Mountain-lion, and the Antelope told the Wolf that he was glad to see him, because fear had made them all friends.
"The whispering and the sign-making stopped when OLD-man raised his hand-like that" (here War Eagle raised his hand with the palm outward)--"and asked them what was troubling them.
"The Bear spoke first, of course, and told how the water had made him move his camp. He said all the animal-people were moving their homes, and he was afraid they would be unable to find good camping-places, because of the water. Then the Beaver spoke, because he is wise and all the forest-people know it. He said his dams would not hold back the water that came against them; that the whole world was a lake, and that he thought they were on an island. He said he could live in the water longer than most people, but that as far as he could see they would all die except, perhaps, the fish-people, who stayed in the water all the time, anyhow. He said he couldn't think of a thing to do--then he sat down and the sign-talking and whispering commenced again.
"OLD-man smoked a long time--smoked
and thought hard. Finally he grabbed his
magic stone axe, and began to sing his warsong.
Then the rest knew he had made up his
mind and knew what he would do. Swow!
he struck a mighty pine-tree a blow, and it
fell down. Swow! down went another and
another, until he had ten times ten of the
longest, straightest, and largest trees in all
the world lying side by side before him. Then
OLD-man chopped off the limbs, and with the aid
of magic rolled the great logs tight together.
With withes of willow that he told the Beaver
to cut for him, he bound the logs fast together
until they were all as one. It was a monstrous
raft that OLD-man had built, as he sang his song
in the darkness. At last he cried, 'Ho! everybody
hurry and sit on this raft I have made';
and they did hurry.
"It was not long till the water had reached the logs; then it crept in between them, and finally it went on past the raft and off into the forest, looking for more trouble.
"By and by the raft began to groan, and the willow withes squeaked and cried out as though ghost-people were crying in the night. That was when the great logs began to tremble as the water lifted them from the ground. Rain was falling--night was there, and fear made cowards of the bravest on the raft. All through the forest there were bad noises--noises that make the heart cold--as the raft bumped against great trees rising from the earth that they were leaving forever.
"Higher and higher went the raft; higher than the bushes; higher than the limbs on the trees; higher than the Woodpecker's nest; higher than the tree tops, and even higher than the mountains. Then the world was no more, for the water had whipped the land in the war it made against it.
"Day came, and still the rain was falling. Night returned, and yet the rain came down. For many days and nights they drifted in the falling rain; whirling and twisting about while the water played with the great raft, as a Bear would play with a Mouse. It was bad, and they were all afraid--even OLD-man himself was scared.
"At last the sun came but there was no
land. All was water. The water was the
world. It reached even to the sky and touched
it all about the edges. All were hungry, and
some of them were grumbling, too. There
are always grumblers when there is great
trouble, but they are not the ones who become
great chiefs--ever.
"OLD-man sat in the middle of the raft and thought. He knew that something must be done, but he didn't know what. Finally he said: 'Ho! Chipmunk, bring me the Spotted Loon. Tell him I want him.'
"The Chipmunk found the Spotted Loon
and told him that OLD-man wanted him, so the
Loon went to where OLD-man sat. When he
got there, OLD-man said:
"'Spotted Loon you are a great diver. Nobody
can dive as you can. I made you that
way and I know. If you will dive and swim
down to the world I think you might bring me
some of the dirt that it is made of--then
I am sure I can make another world.'
"'It is too deep, this water,' replied the Loon, 'I am afraid I shall drown.'
"'Well, what if you do?' said OLD-man. 'I gave you life, and if you lose it this way I will return it to you. You shall live again!'
"'All right, OLD-man,' he answered, 'I am willing to try'; so he waddled to the edge of the raft. He is a poor walker--the Loon, and you know I told you why. It was all because OLD-man kicked him in the back the night he painted all the Duck-people.
"Down went the Spotted Loon, and long
he stayed beneath the water. All waited and
watched, and longed for good luck, but when
he came to the top he was dead. Everybody
groaned--all felt badly, I can tell you, as
OLD-man laid the dead Loon on the logs. The
Loon's wife was crying, but OLD-man told her to
shut up and she did.
"Then OLD-man blew his own breath into
the Loon's bill, and he came back to life.
"'What did you see, Brother Loon?' asked OLD-man, while everybody crowded as close as he could.
"'Nothing but water,' answered the Loon, 'we shall all die here, I cannot reach the world by swimming. My heart stops working.'
"There were many brave ones on the raft,
and the Otter tried to reach the world by
diving; and the Beaver, and the Gray Goose,
and the Gray Goose's wife; but all died in
trying, and all were given a new life by OLDman.
Things were bad and getting worse.
Everybody was cross, and all wondered what
OLD-man would do next, when somebody laughed.
"All turned to see what there could be to laugh at, at such a time, and OLD-man turned about just in time to see the Muskrat bid good-by to his wife--that was what they were laughing at. But he paid no attention to OLD-man or the rest, and slipped from the raft to the water. Flip!--his tail cut the water like a knife, and he was gone. Some laughed again, but all wondered at his daring, and waited with little hope in their hearts; for the Muskrat wasn't very great, they thought.
"He was gone longer than the Loon, longer than the Beaver, longer than the Otter or the Gray Goose or his wife, but when he came to the surface of the water he was dead.
"OLD-man brought Muskrat back to life,
and asked him what he had seen on his journey.
Muskrat said: 'I saw trees, OLD-man, but I
died before I got to them.'
"OLD-man told him he was brave. He said
his people should forever be great if he succeeded
in bringing some dirt to the raft; so
just as soon as the Muskrat was rested he
dove again.
"When he came up he was dead, but clinched in his tiny hand OLD-man found some dirt-- not much, but a little. A second time OLD-man gave the Muskrat his breath, and told him that he must go once more, and bring dirt. He said there was not quite enough in the first lot, so after resting a while the Muskrat tried a third time and a third time he died, but brought up a little more dirt.
"Everybody on the raft was anxious now, and they were all crowding about OLD-man; but he told them to stand back, and they did. Then he blew his breath in Muskrat's mouth a third time, and a third time he lived and joined his wife.
"OLD-man then dried the dirt in his hands, rubbing it slowly and singing a queer song. Finally it was dry; then he settled the hand that held the dirt in the water slowly, until the water touched the dirt. The dry dirt began to whirl about and then OLD-man blew upon it. Hard he blew and waved his hands, and the dirt began to grow in size right before their eyes. OLD-man kept blowing and waving his hands until the dirt became real land, and the trees began to grow. So large it grew that none could see across it. Then he stopped his blowing and sang some more. Everybody wanted to get off the raft, but OLD-man said 'no.'
"'Come here, Wolf,' he said, and the Wolf came to him.
"'You are swift of foot and brave. Run around this land I have made, that I may know how large it is.'
"The Wolf started, and it took him half a year to get back to the raft. He was very poor from much running, too, but OLD-man said the world wasn't big enough yet so he blew some more, and again sent the Wolf out to run around the land. He never came back --no, the OLD-man had made it so big that the Wolf died of old age before he got back to the raft. Then all the people went out upon the land to make their living, and they were happy, there, too.
"After they had been on the land for a long
time OLD-man said: 'Now I shall make a man
and a woman, for I am lonesome living with
you people. He took two or three handfuls
of mud from the world he had made, and
moulded both a man and a woman. Then he
set them side by side and breathed upon them.
They lived!--and he made them very strong
and healthy--very beautiful to look upon.
Chippewas, he called these people, and they
lived happily on that world until a white man
saw an Eagle sailing over the land and came to
look about. He stole the woman--that white
man did; and that is where all the tribes came
from that we know to-day. None are pure of
blood but the two humans he made of clay,
and their own children. And they are the
Chippewas!
"That is a long story and now you must
hurry to bed. To-morrow night I will tell
you another story--Ho!"
WHY BLACKFEET NEVER KILL MICE
Muskrat and his grandmother were
gathering wood for the camp the next
morning, when they came to an old buffalo
skull. The plains were dotted with these relics
of the chase, for already the hide-hunting
white man had played havoc with the great
herds of buffalo. This skull was in a grove
of cottonwood-trees near the river, and as
they approached two Mice scampered into
it to hide. Muskrat, in great glee, secured a
stick and was about to turn the skull over
and kill the Mice, when his grandmother
said: "No, our people never kill Mice. Your
grandfather will tell you why if you ask him.
The Mice-people are our friends and we treat
them as such. Even small people can be good
friends, you know--remember that."
All the day the boy wondered why the Micepeople
should not be harmed; and just at dark
he came for me to accompany him to War
Eagle's lodge. On the way he told me what
his grandmother had said, and that he intended
to ask for the reason, as soon as we arrived.
We found the other children already there,
and almost before we had seated ourselves,
Muskrat asked:
"Grandfather, why must we never kill the Mice-people? Grandmother said that you knew."
"Yes," replied War Eagle, "I do know
and you must know. Therefore I shall tell
you all to-night why the Mice-people must
be let alone and allowed to do as they please,
for we owe them much; much more than we
can ever pay. Yes--they are great people,
as you will see.
" It happened long, long ago, when there
were few men and women on the world. OLDman
was chief of all then, and the animalpeople
and the bird-people were greater than
our people, because we had not been on earth
long and were not wise.
"There was much quarrelling among the
animals and the birds. You see the Bear
wanted to be chief, under OLD-man, and so
did the Beaver. Almost every night they
would have a council and quarrel over it.
Beside the Bear and Beaver, there were other
animals, and also birds, that thought they had
the right to be chief. They couldn't agree and
the quarrelling grew worse as time went on.
Some said the greatest thief should be chosen.
Others thought the wisest one should be the
leader; while some said the swiftest traveller
was the one they wanted. So it went on and
on until they were most all enemies instead of
friends, and you could hear them quarrelling
almost every night, until OLD-man came along
that way.
"He heard about the trouble. I forget
who told him, but I think it was the Rabbit.
Anyhow he visited the council where the
quarrelling was going on and listened to what
each one had to say. It took until almost
daylight, too. He listened to it all--every
bit. When they had finished talking and the
quarrelling commenced as usual, he said, 'stop!'
and they did stop.
"Then he said to them: 'I will settle this thing right here and right now, so that there will be no more rows over it, forever.'
"He opened his paint sack and took from it a small, polished bone. This he held up in the firelight, so that they might all see it, and he said:
"'This will settle the quarrel. You all see this bone in my right hand, don't you?'
"'Yes,' they replied.
"'Well, now you watch the bone and my
hands, too, for they are quick and cunning.'
"OLD-man began to sing the gambling song and to slip the bone from one hand to the other so rapidly and smoothly that they were all puzzled. Finally he stopped singing and held out his hands--both shut tight, and both with their backs up.
"'Which of my hands holds the bone now?' he asked them.
"Some said it was in the right hand and
others claimed that it was the left hand that
held it. OLD-man asked the Bear to name the
hand that held the bone, and the Bear did;
but when OLD-man opened that hand it was
empty--the bone was not there. Then everybody
laughed at the Bear. OLD-man smiled
a little and began to sing and again pass the
bone.
"'Beaver, you are smart; name the hand
that holds the bone this time.'
"The Beaver said: 'It's in your right hand. I saw you put it there.'
"OLD-man opened that hand right before
the Beaver's eyes, but the bone wasn't there,
and again everybody laughed--especially the
Bear.
"'Now, you see,' said OLD-man, 'that this is not so easy as it looks, but I am going to teach you all to play the game; and when you have all learned it, you must play it until you find out who is the cleverest at the playing. Whoever that is, he shall be chief under me, forever.'
"Some were awkward and said they didn't care much who was chief, but most all of them learned to play pretty well. First the Bear and the Beaver tried it, but the Beaver beat the Bear easily and held the bone for ever so long. Finally the Buffalo beat the Beaver and started to play with the Mouse. Of course the Mouse had small hands and was quicker than the Buffalo--quicker to see the bone. The Buffalo tried hard for he didn't want the Mouse to be chief but it didn't do him any good; for the Mouse won in the end.
"It was a fair game and the Mouse was
chief under the agreement. He looked quite
small among the rest but he walked right
out to the centre of the council and said:
"'Listen, brothers--what is mine to keep is mine to give away. I am too small to be your chief and I know it. I am not warlike. I want to live in peace with my wife and family. I know nothing of war. I get my living easily. I don't like to have enemies. I am going to give my right to be chief to the man that OLD-man has made like himself.'
"That settled it. That made the man chief forever, and that is why he is greater than the animals and the birds. That is why we never kill the Mice-people.
"You saw the Mice run into the buffalo
skull, of course. There is where they have
lived and brought up their families ever since
the night the Mouse beat the Buffalo playing
the bone game. Yes--the Mice-people always
make their nests in the heads of the
dead Buffalo-people, ever since that night.
"Our people play the same game, even today.
See," and War Eagle took from his
paint sack a small, polished bone. Then he
sang just as OLD-man did so long ago. He
let the children try to guess the hand that
held the bone, as the animal-people did that
fateful night; but, like the animals, they always
guessed wrong. Laughingly War Eagle
said:
"Now go to your beds and come to see me to-morrow night. Ho!"
HOW THE OTTER SKIN BECAME GREAT "MEDICINE"
It was rather late when we left War Eagle's lodge after having learned why the Indians never kill the Mice-people; and the milky way was white and plain, dimming the stars with its mist. The children all stopped to say good night to little Sees-in-the-dark, a brand-new baby sister of Bluebird's; then they all went to bed.
The next day the boys played at war, just
as white boys do; and the girls played with
dolls dressed in buckskin clothes, until it grew
tiresome, when they visited relatives until
it came time for us all to go to their grandfather'
s lodge. He was smoking when we
entered, but soon laid aside the pipe and said:
"You know that the otter skin is big medicine,
no doubt. You have noticed that our
warriors wear it sometimes and you know
that we all think it very lucky to wear the
skin of the Otter. But you don't know how
it came to be great; so I shall tell you.
"One time, long before my grandfather was
born, a young-man of our tribe was unlucky
in everything. No woman wanted to marry
him, because he couldn't kill enough meat to
keep her in food and clothes. Whenever he
went hunting, his bow always broke or he
would lose his lance. If these things didn't
happen, his horse would fall and hurt him.
Everybody talked about him and his bad
luck, and although he was fine-looking, he
had no close friends, because of his ill fortune.
He tried to dream and get his medicine but
no dream would come. He grew sour and
people were sorry for him all the time. Finally
his name was changed to 'The Unlucky-one,'
which sounds bad to the ear. He used to
wander about alone a good deal, and one
morning he saw an old woman gathering wood
by the side of a River. The Unlucky-one
was about to pass the old woman when she
stopped him and asked:
"'Why are you so sad in your handsome
face? Why is that sorry look in your fine
eyes?'
"'Because,' replied the young-man, 'I am the Unlucky-one. Everything goes wrong with me, always. I don't want to live any longer, for my heart is growing wicked.'
"'Come with me,' said the old woman,
and he followed her until she told him to sit
down. Then she said: 'Listen to me. First
you must learn a song to sing, and this is it.'
Then she sang a queer song over and over
again until the young-man had learned it
well.
"'Now do what I tell you, and your heart shall be glad some day.' She drew from her robe a pair of moccasins and a small sack of dried meat. 'Here,' she said, 'put these moccasins on your feet and take this sack of meat for food, for you must travel far. Go on down this river until you come to a great beaver village. Their lodges will be large and fine-looking and you will know the village by the great size of the lodges. When you get to the place, you must stand still for a long time, and then sing the song I taught you. When you have finished the singing, a great white Beaver, chief of all the Beavers in the world, will come to you. He is wise and can tell you what to do to change your luck. After that I cannot help you; but do what the white Beaver tells you, without asking why. Now go, and be brave!'
"The young-man started at once. Long
his steps were, for he was young and strong.
Far he travelled down the river--saw many
beaver villages, too, but he did not stop, because
the lodges were not big, as the old woman
told him they would be in the right village.
His feet grew tired for he travelled day and
night without resting, but his heart was brave
and he believed what the old woman had told him.
"It was late on the third day when he came
to a mighty beaver village and here the lodges
were greater than any he had ever seen before.
In the centre of the camp was a monstrous
lodge built of great sticks and towering above
the rest. All about, the ground was neat
and clean and bare as your hand. The Unlucky
-one knew this was the white Beaver's
lodge--knew that at last he had found the
chief of all the Beavers in the world; so he
stood still for a long time, and then sang that
song.
"Soon a great white Beaver--white as
the snows of winter--came to him and asked:
'Why do you sing that song, my brother?
What do you want of me? I have never
heard a man sing that song before. You
must be in trouble.'
"'I am the Unlucky-one, ' the young-man
replied. 'I can do nothing well. I can find
no woman who will marry me. In the hunt
my bow will often break or my lance is poor.
My medicine is bad and I cannot dream.
The people do not love me, and they pity me
as they do a sick child.'
"'I am sorry for you, ' said the white Beaver --chief of all the Beavers in the world--'but you must find my brother the Coyote, who knows where OLD-man's lodge is. The Coyote will do your bidding if you sing that song when you see him. Take this stick with you, because you will have a long journey, and with the stick you may cross any river and not drown, if you keep it always in your hand. That is all I can do for you, myself.'
"On down the river the Unlucky-one
travelled and the sun was low in the west on
the fourth day, when he saw the Coyote on
a hillside near by. After looking at Coyote
for a long time, the young-man commenced
to sing the song the old woman had taught
him. When he had finished the singing, the
Coyote came up close and asked:
"'What is the matter? Why do you sing
that song? I never heard a man sing it before.
What is it you want of me?'
"Then the Unlucky-one told the Coyote
what he had told the white Beaver, and showed
the stick the Beaver-chief had given him,
to prove it.
"'I am hungry, too,' said the Unlucky-one, 'for I have eaten all the dried meat the old woman gave me.'
"'Wait here,' said the Coyote, 'my brother the Wolf has just killed a fat Doe, and perhaps he will give me a little of the meat when I tell him about you and your troubles.'
"Away went the Coyote to beg for meat,
and while he was gone the young-man bathed
his tired feet in a cool creek. Soon the Coyote
came back with meat, and young-man built
a fire and ate some of it, even before it was
warm, for he was starving. When he had
finished the Coyote said:
"'Now I shall take you to OLD-man's lodge, come.'
"They started, even though it was getting dark. Long they travelled without stopping --over plains and mountains--through great forests and across rivers, until they came to a cave in the rough rocks on the side of a mighty mountain.
"'In there,' said the Coyote, 'you will find OLD-man and he can tell you what you want to know.'
"The Unlucky-one stood before the black hole in the rocks for a long time, because he was afraid; but when he turned to speak to the Coyote he found himself to be alone. The Coyote had gone about his own business-- had silently slipped away in the night.
"Slowly and carefully the young-man began to creep into the cave, feeling his way in the darkness. His heart was beating like a tom-tom at a dance. Finally he saw a fire away back in the cave.
"The shadows danced about the stone sides of the cave as men say the ghosts do; and they frightened him. But looking, he saw a man sitting on the far side of the fire. The man's hair was like the snow and very long. His face was wrinkled with the seams left by many years of life and he was naked in the firelight that played about him.
"Slowly the young-man stood upon his feet and began to walk toward the fire with great fear in his heart. When he had reached the place where the firelight fell upon him, the OLD-man looked up and said:
"'How, young-man, I am OLD-man. Why
did you come here? What is it you want?'
"Then the Unlucky-one told OLD-man just what he had told the old woman and the white Beaver and the Coyote, and showed the stick the Beaver had given him, to prove it.
"'Smoke,' said OLD-man, and passed the
pipe to his visitor. After they had smoked
OLD-man said:
"'I will tell you what to do. On the top of
this great mountain there live many ghostpeople
and their chief is a great Owl. This
Owl is the only one who knows how you can
change your luck, and he will tell you if you
are not afraid. Take this arrow and go among
those people, without fear. Show them you
are unarmed as soon as they see you. Now
go!'
"Out into the night went the Unlucky-one
and on up the mountain. The way was rough
and the wind blew from the north, chilling his
limbs and stinging his face, but on he went
toward the mountain-top, where the stormclouds
sleep and the winter always stays.
Drifts of snow were piled all about, and the
wind gathered it up and hurled it at the youngman
as though it were angry at him. The
clouds waked and gathered around him, making
the night darker and the world lonelier than
before, but on the very top of the mountain
he stopped and tried to look through the
clouds. Then he heard strange singing all
about him; but for a long time there was no
singer in sight. Finally the clouds parted
and he saw a great circle of ghost-people with
large and ugly heads. They were seated on
the icy ground and on the drifts of snow and
on the rocks, singing a warlike song that made
the heart of the young-man stand still, in
dread. In the centre of the circle there sat
a mighty Owl--their chief. Ho!--when the
ghost-people saw the Unlucky-one they rushed
at him with many lances and would have killed
him but the Owl-chief cried, 'Stop!'
"The young-man folded his arms and said: 'I am unarmed--come and see how a Blackfoot dies. I am not afraid of you.'
"'Ho!' said the Owl-chief, 'we kill no unarmed
man. Sit down, my son, and tell me
what you want. Why do you come here?
You must be in trouble. You must smoke
with me.'
"The Unlucky-one told the Owl-chief just what he had told the old woman and the Beaver and the Coyote and OLD-man, and showed the stick that the white Beaver had given him and the arrow that OLD-man had given to him to prove it.
"'Good,' said the Owl-chief, 'I can help
you, but first you must help yourself. Take
this bow. It is a medicine-bow; then you
will have a bow that will not break and an
arrow that is good and straight. Now go
down this mountain until you come to a
river. It will be dark when you reach this
river, but you will know the way. There
will be a great cottonwood-tree on the bank
of the stream where you first come to the
water. At this tree, you must turn down the
stream and keep on travelling without rest,
until you hear a splashing in the water near
you. When you hear the splashing, you must
shoot this arrow at the sound. Shoot quickly,
for if you do not you can never have any good
luck. If you do as I have told you the splasher
will be killed and you must then take his hide
and wear it always. The skin that the splasher
wears will make you a lucky man. It will
make anybody lucky and you may tell your
people that it is so.
"'Now go, for it is nearly day and we must sleep.'
"The young-man took his bow and arrow
and the stick the white Beaver had given him
and started on his journey. All the day he
travelled, and far into the night. At last he
came to a river and on the bank he saw the
great cottonwood-tree, just as the ghost Owl
had told him. At the tree the young-man
turned down the stream and in the dark easily
found his way along the bank. Very soon he
heard a great splashing in the water near him,
and--zipp--he let the arrow go at the
sound--then all was still again. He stood
and looked and listened, but for a long time
could see nothing--hear nothing.
"Then the moon came out from under a
cloud and just where her light struck the
river, he saw some animal floating--dead.
With the magic stick the young-man walked
out on the water, seized the animal by the
legs and drew it ashore. It was an Otter,
and the young-man took his hide, right there.
"A Wolf waited in the brush for the body of the Otter, and the young-man gave it to him willingly, because he remembered the meat the Wolf had given the Coyote. As soon as the young-man had skinned the Otter he threw the hide over his shoulder and started for his own country with a light heart, but at the first good place he made a camp, and slept. That night he dreamed and all was well with him.
"After days of travel he found his tribe
again, and told what had happened. He became
a great hunter and a great chief among
us. He married the most beautiful woman in
the tribe and was good to her always. They
had many children, and we remember his
name as one that was great in war. That is
all--Ho!"
OLD-MAN STEALS THE SUN'S LEGGINGS
Firelight--what a charm it adds to
story-telling. How its moods seem to
keep pace with situations pictured by the
oracle, offering shadows when dread is abroad,
and light when a pleasing climax is reached;
for interest undoubtedly tends the blaze, while
sympathy contributes or withholds fuel, according
to its dictates.
The lodge was alight when I approached
and I could hear the children singing in a
happy mood, but upon entering, the singing
ceased and embarrassed smiles on the young
faces greeted me; nor could I coax a continuation
of the song.
Seated beside War Eagle was a very old
Indian whose name was Red Robe, and as
soon as I was seated. the host explained that
he was an honored guest; that he was a Sioux
and a friend of long standing. Then War
Eagle lighted the pipe, passing it to the distinguished
friend, who in turn passed it to
me, after first offering it to the Sun, the father,
and the Earth, the mother of all that is.
In a lodge of the Blackfeet the pipe must never be passed across the doorway. To do so would insult the host and bring bad luck to all who assembled. Therefore if there be a large number of guests ranged about the lodge, the pipe is passed first to the left from guest to guest until it reaches the door, when it goes back, unsmoked, to the host, to be refilled ere it is passed to those on his right hand.
Briefly War Eagle explained my presence to Red Robe and said:
"Once the Moon made the Sun a pair of
leggings. Such beautiful work had never been
seen before. They were worked with the colored
quills of the Porcupine and were covered
with strange signs, which none but the Sun
and the Moon could read. No man ever saw
such leggings as they were, and it took the
Moon many snows to make them. Yes, they
were wonderful leggings and the Sun always
wore them on fine days, for they were bright
to look upon.
"Every night when the Sun went to sleep in his lodge away in the west, he used the leggings for a pillow, because there was a thief in the world, even then. That thief and rascal was OLD-man, and of course the Sun knew all about him. That is why he always put his fine leggings under his head when he slept. When he worked he almost always wore them, as I have told you, so that there was no danger of losing them in the daytime; but the Sun was careful of his leggings when night came and he slept.
"You wouldn't think that a person would
be so foolish as to steal from the Sun, but
one night OLD-man--who is the only person
who ever knew just where the Sun's lodge
was--crept near enough to look in, and
saw the leggings under the Sun's head.
"We have all travelled a great deal but
no man ever found the Sun's lodge. No
man knows in what country it is. Of course
we know it is located somewhere west of here,
for we see him going that way every afternoon,
but OLD-man knew everything--except
that he could not fool the Sun.
"Yes--OLD-man looked into the lodge of
the Sun and saw the leggings there--saw
the Sun, too, and the Sun was asleep. He
made up his mind that he would steal the
leggings so he crept through the door of the
lodge. There was no one at home but the
Sun, for the Moon has work to do at night
just as the children, the Stars, do, so he thought
he could slip the leggings from under the
sleeper's head and get away.
"He got down on his hands and knees to
walk like the Bear-people and crept into the
lodge, but in the black darkness he put his
knee upon a dry stick near the Sun's bed.
The stick snapped under his weight with so
great a noise that the Sun turned over and
snorted, scaring OLD-man so badly that he
couldn't move for a minute. His heart was
not strong--wickedness makes every heart
weaker--and after making sure that the Sun
had not seen him, he crept silently out of the
lodge and ran away.
"On the top of a hill OLD-man stopped to look and listen, but all was still; so he sat down and thought.
"'I'll get them to-morrow night when he sleeps again'; he said to himself. 'I need those leggings myself, and I'm going to get them, because they will make me handsome as the Sun.'
"He watched the Moon come home to camp
and saw the Sun go to work, but he did not
go very far away because he wanted to be
near the lodge when night came again.
"It was not long to wait, for all the OLDman
had to do was to make mischief, and only
those who have work to do measure time.
He was close to the lodge when the Moon
came out, and there he waited until the Sun
went inside. From the bushes OLD-man saw
the Sun take off his leggings and his eyes
glittered with greed as he saw their owner
fold them and put them under his head as
he had always done. Then he waited a
while before creeping closer. Little by little
the old rascal crawled toward the lodge,
till finally his head was inside the door. Then
he waited a long, long time, even after the
Sun was snoring.
"The strange noises of the night bothered him, for he knew he was doing wrong, and when a Loon cried on a lake near by, he shivered as with cold, but finally crept to the sleeper's side. Cautiously his fingers felt about the precious leggings until he knew just how they could best be removed without waking the Sun. His breath was short and his heart was beating as a war-drum beats, in the black dark of the lodge. Sweat--cold sweat, that great fear always brings to the weak-hearted--was dripping from his body, and once he thought that he would wait for another night, but greed whispered again, and listening to its voice, he stole the leggings from under the Sun's head.
"Carefully he crept out of the lodge, looking over his shoulder as he went through the door. Then he ran away as fast as he could go. Over hills and valleys, across rivers and creeks, toward the east. He wasted much breath laughing at his smartness as he ran, and soon he grew tired.
"'Ho!' he said to himself, 'I am far enough now and I shall sleep. It's easy to steal from the Sun--just as easy as stealing from the Bear or the Beaver.'
"He folded the leggings and put them under his head as the Sun had done, and went to sleep. He had a dream and it waked him with a start. Bad deeds bring bad dreams to us all. OLD-man sat up and there was the Sun looking right in his face and laughing. He was frightened and ran away, leaving the leggings behind him.
"Laughingly the Sun put on the leggings
and went on toward the west, for he is always
busy. He thought he would see OLDman
no more, but it takes more than one
lesson to teach a fool to be wise, and OLDman
hid in the timber until the Sun had
travelled out of sight. Then he ran westward
and hid himself near the Sun's lodge again,
intending to wait for the night and steal the
leggings a second time.
"He was much afraid this time, but as soon as the Sun was asleep he crept to the lodge and peeked inside. Here he stopped and looked about, for he was afraid the Sun would hear his heart beating. Finally he started toward the Sun's bed and just then a great white Owl flew from off the lodge poles, and this scared him more, for that is very bad luck and he knew it; but he kept on creeping until he could almost touch the Sun.
"All about the lodge were beautiful linings, tanned and painted by the Moon, and the queer signs on them made the old coward tremble. He heard a night-bird call outside and he thought it would surely wake the Sun; so he hastened to the bed and with cunning fingers stole the leggings, as he had done the night before, without waking the great sleeper. Then he crept out of the lodge, talking bravely to himself as cowards do when they are afraid.
"'Now,' he said to himself, 'I shall run faster and farther than before. I shall not stop running while the night lasts, and I shall stay in the mountains all the time when the Sun is at work in the daytime!'
"Away he went--running as the Buffalo
runs--straight ahead, looking at nothing,
hearing nothing, stopping at nothing. When
day began to break OLD-man was far from
the Sun's lodge and he hid himself in a deep
gulch among some bushes that grew there.
He listened a long time before he dared to go
to sleep, but finally he did. He was tired
from his great run and slept soundly and for a
long time, but when he opened his eyes--
there was the Sun looking straight at him,
and this time he was scowling. OLD-man
started to run away but the Sun grabbed
him and threw him down upon his back.
My! but the Sun was angry, and he said:
"'OLD-man, you are a clever thief but a mighty fool as well, for you steal from me and expect to hide away. Twice you have stolen the leggings my wife made for me, and twice I have found you easily. Don't you know that the whole world is my lodge and that you can never get outside of it, if you run your foolish legs off? Don't you know that I light all of my lodge every day and search it carefully? Don't you know that nothing can hide from me and live? I shall not harm you this time, but I warn you now, that if you ever steal from me again, I will hurt you badly. Now go, and don't let me catch you stealing again!'
"Away went OLD-man, and on toward the
west went the busy Sun. That is all.
"Now go to bed; for I would talk of other things with my friend, who knows of war as I do. Ho! "
OLD-MAN AND HIS CONSCIENCE
Not so many miles away from the village,
the great mountain range so divides
the streams that are born there, that their
waters are offered as tribute to the Atlantic,
Pacific, and Arctic Oceans. In this wonderful
range the Indians believe the winds are
made, and that they battle for supremacy
over Gunsight Pass. I have heard an old
story, too, that is said to have been generally
believed by the Blackfeet, in which a monster
bull-elk that lives in Gunsight Pass lords it
over the winds. This elk creates the North
wind by "flapping" one of his ears, and the
South wind by the same use of his other. I
am inclined to believe that the winds are
made in that Pass, myself, for there they are
seldom at rest, especially at this season of
the year.
To-night the wind was blowing from the
north, and filmy white clouds were driven
across the face of the nearly full moon, momentarily
veiling her light. Lodge poles
creaked and strained at every heavy gust,
and sparks from the fires inside the lodges
sped down the wind, to fade and die.
In his lodge War Eagle waited for us, and when we entered he greeted us warmly, but failed to mention the gale. "I have been waiting," he said. "You are late and the story I shall tell you is longer than many of the others." Without further delay the storytelling commenced.
"Once OLD-man came upon a lodge in the
forest. It was a fine one, and painted with
strange signs. Smoke was curling from the
top, and thus he knew that the person who
lived there was at home. Without calling
or speaking, he entered the lodge and saw a
man sitting by the fire smoking his pipe. The
man didn't speak, nor did he offer his pipe
to OLD-man, as our people do when they are
glad to see visitors. He didn't even look at
his guest, but OLD-man has no good manners
at all. He couldn't see that he wasn't wanted,
as he looked about the man's lodge and made
himself at home. The linings were beautiful
and were painted with fine skill. The lodge
was clean and the fire was bright, but there
was no woman about.
"Leaning against a fine back-rest, OLD-man
filled his own pipe and lighted it with a coal
from the man's fire. Then he began to smoke
and look around, wondering why the man
acted so queerly. He saw a star that shone
down through the smoke-hole, and the tops
of several trees that were near the lodge. Then
he saw a woman--way up in a tree top and
right over the lodge. She looked young and
beautiful and tall.
"'Whose woman is that up there in the
tree top?' asked OLD-man.
"'She's your woman if you can catch her and will marry her,' growled the man; 'but you will have to live here and help me make a living.'
"'I'll try to catch her, and if I do I will marry her and stay here, for I am a great hunter and can easily kill what meat we want,' said Old-man.
"He went out of the lodge and climbed the tree after the woman. She screamed, but he caught her and held her, although she scratched him badly. He carried her into the lodge and there renewed his promise to stay there always. The man married them, and they were happy for four days, but on the fifth morning OLD-man was gone--gone with all the dried meat in the lodge--the thief.
"When they were sure that the rascal had
run away the woman began to cry, but not
so the man. He got his bow and arrows
and left the lodge in anger. There was snow
on the ground and the man took the track
of OLD-man, intending to catch and kill him.
"The track was fresh and the man started
on a run, for he was a good hunter and as
fast as a Deer. Of course he gained on OLDman,
who was a much slower traveller; and
the Sun was not very high when the old thief
stopped on a hilltop to look back. He saw
the man coming fast.
"'This will never do,' he said to himself. 'That queer person will catch me. I know what I shall do; I shall turn myself into a dead Bull-Elk and lie down. Then he will pass me and I can go where I please.'
"He took off his moccasins and said to
them: 'Moccasins, go on toward the west.
Keep going and making plain tracks in the
snow toward the big-water where the Sun
sleeps. The queer-one will follow you, and
when you pass out of the snowy country,
you can lose him. Go quickly for he is close
upon us.'
"The moccasins ran away as OLD-man wanted them to, and they made plain tracks in the snow leading away toward the big-water. OLDman turned into a dead Bull-Elk and stretched himself near the tracks the moccasins had made.
"Up the hill came the man, his breath short
from running. He saw the dead Elk, and
thought it might be OLD-man playing a trick.
He was about to shoot an arrow into the dead
Elk to make sure; but just as he was about to
let the arrow go, he saw the tracks the moccasins
had made. Of course he thought the
moccasins were on OLD-man's feet, and that
the carcass was really that of a dead Elk. He
was badly fooled and took the tracks again.
On and on he went, following the moccasins
over hills and rivers. Faster than before went
the man, and still faster travelled the empty
moccasins, the trail growing dimmer and dimmer
as the daylight faded. All day long,
and all of the night the man followed the
tracks without rest or food, and just at daybreak
he came to the shore of the big-water.
There, right by the water's edge, stood the
empty moccasins, side by side.
"The man turned and looked back. His
eyes were red and his legs were trembling.
'Caw--caw, caw,' he heard a Crow say. Right
over his head he saw the black bird and knew
him, too.
"'Ho! OLD-man, you were in that dead
Bull-Elk. You fooled me, and now you are a
Crow. You think you will escape me, do you?
Well, you will not; for I, too, know magic,
and am wise.'
"With a stick the man drew a cricle in the
sand. Then he stood within the ring and
sang a song. OLD-man was worried and
watched the strange doings from the air overhead.
Inside the circle the man began to
whirl about so rapidly that he faded from
sight, and from the centre of the circle there
came an Eagle. Straight at the Crow flew the
Eagle, and away toward the mountains sped
the Crow, in fright.
"The Crow knew that the Eagle would catch
him, so that as soon as he reached the trees
on the mountains he turned himself into a
Wren and sought the small bushes under the
tall trees. The Eagle saw the change, and
at once began turning over and over in the
air. When he had reached the ground, instead
of an Eagle a Sparrow-hawk chased the
Wren. Now the chase was fast indeed, for no
place could the Wren find in which to hide
from the Sparrow-hawk. Through the brush,
into trees, among the weeds and grass, flew
the Wren with the Hawk close behind. Once
the Sparrow-hawk picked a feather from the
Wren's tail--so close was he to his victim.
It was nearly over with the Wren, when he
suddenly came to a park along a river's side.
In this park were a hundred lodges of our
people, and before a fine lodge there sat the
daughter of the chief. It was growing dark
and chilly, but still she sat there looking at
the river. The Sparrow-hawk was striking at
the Wren with his beak and talons, when the
Wren saw the young-woman and flew straight
to her. So swift he flew that the young-woman
didn't see him at all, but she felt something
strike her hand, and when she looked she
saw a bone ring on her finger. This frightened
her, and she ran inside the lodge, where the
fire kept the shadows from coming. OLDman
had changed into the ring, of course,
and the Sparrow-hawk didn't dare to go into
the lodge; so he stopped outside and listened.
This is what he heard OLD-man say:
"'Don't be frightened, young-woman, I
am neither a Wren nor a ring. I am OLD-man
and that Sparrow-hawk has chased me all the
day and for nothing. I have never done him
harm, and he bothers me without reason.'
"'Liar--forked-tongue,' cried the Sparrowhawk.
'Believe him not, young-woman. He
has done wrong. He is wicked and I am not
a Sparrow-hawk, but conscience. Like an arrow
I travel, straight and fast. When he
lies or steals from his friends I follow him.
I talk all the time and he hears me, but lies to
himself, and says he does not hear. You
know who I am, young-woman, I am what
talks inside a person.'
"OLD-man heard what the Sparrow-hawk
said, and he was ashamed for once in his life.
He crawled out of the lodge. Into the shadows
he ran away--away into the night, and the
darkness--away from himself!
"You see," said War Eagle, as he reached for his pipe," OLD-man knew that he had done wrong, and his heart troubled him, just as yours will bother you if you do not listen to the voice that speaks within yourselves. Whenever that voice says a thing is wicked, it is wicked--no matter who says it is not. Yes --it is very hard for a man to hide from himself. Ho!"
OLD-MAN'S TREACHERY
The next afternoon Muskrat and Fine
Bow went hunting. They hid themselves
in some brush which grew beside an
old game trail that followed the river, and
there waited for a chance deer.
Chickadees hopped and called, "chick-a-dede -de" in the willows and wild-rose bushes that grew near their hiding-place; and the gentle little birds with their pretty coats were often within a few inches of the hands of the young hunters. In perfect silence they watched and admired these little friends, while glance or smile conveyed their appreciation of the birdvisits to each other.
The wind was coming down the stream, and
therefore the eyes of the boys seldom left the
trail in that direction; for from that quarter
an approaching deer would be unwarned by
the ever-busy breeze. A rabbit came hopping
down the game trail in believed perfect security,
passing so close to Fine Bow that he
could not resist the desire to strike at him with
an arrow. Both boys were obliged to cover
their mouths with their open hands to keep
from laughing aloud at the surprise and speed
shown by the frightened bunny, as he scurried
around a bend in the trail, with his white,
pudgy tail bobbing rapidly.
They had scarcely regained their composure
and silence when, "snap!" went a dry
stick. The sharp sound sent a thrill through
the hearts of the boys, and instantly they
became rigidly watchful. Not a leaf could
move on the ground now--not a bush might
bend or a bird pass and escape being seen by
the four sharp eyes that peered from the brush
in the direction indicated by the sound of
the breaking stick. Two hearts beat loudly
as Fine Bow fitted his arrow to the bowstring.
Tense and expectant they waited--yes, it
was a deer--a buck, too, and he was coming
down the trail, alert and watchful--down
the trail that he had often travelled and knew
so well. Yes, he had followed his mother
along that trail when he was but a spotted
fawn--now he wore antlers, and was master
of his own ways. On he came--nearly to the
brush that hid the hunters, when, throwing
his beautiful head high in the air, he stopped,
turning his side a trifle.
Zipp--went the arrow and, kicking out
behind, away went the buck, crashing through
willows and alders that grew in his way, until
he was out of sight. Then all was still, save
the chick-a-de-de-de, chick-a-de-de-de, that
came constantly from the bushes about them.
Out from the cover came the hunters, and with ready bow they followed along the trail. Yes--there was blood on a log, and more on the dead leaves. The arrow had found its mark and they must go slowly in their trailing, lest they lose the meat. For two hours they followed the wounded animal, and at last came upon him in a willow thicket--sick unto death, for the arrow was deep in his paunch. His sufferings were ended by another arrow, and the chase was done.
With their knives the boys dressed the buck, and then went back to the camp to tell the women where the meat could be found--just as the men do. It was their first deer; and pride shone in their faces as they told their grandfather that night in the lodge.
"That is good," War Eagle replied, as the boys finished telling of their success. "That is good, if your mother needed the meat, but it is wrong to kill when you have plenty, lest Manitou be angry. There is always enough, but none to waste, and the hunter who kills more than he needs is wicked. To-night I shall tell you what happened to OLD-man when he did that. Yes, and he got into trouble over it.
"One day in the fall when the leaves were
yellow, and the Deer-people were dressed in
their blue robes--when the Geese and Duckpeople
were travelling to the country where
water does not freeze, and where flowers never
die, OLD-man was travelling on the plains.
"Near sundown he saw two Buffalo-Bulls
feeding on a steep hillside; but he had no
bow and arrow with him. He was hungry,
and began to think of some way to kill one
of the Bulls for meat. Very soon he thought
out a plan, for he is cunning always.
"He ran around the hill out of sight of the
Bulls, and there made two men out of grass
and sage-brush. They were dummies, of
course, but he made them to look just like real
men, and then armed each with a wooden
knife of great length. Then he set them in
the position of fighting; made them look as
though they were about to fight each other
with the knives. When he had them both
fixed to suit, he ran back to the place where
the Buffalo were calling:
"'Ho! brothers, wait for me--do not run away. There are two fine men on the other side of this hill, and they are quarrelling. They will surely fight unless we stop them. It all started over you two Bulls, too. One of the men says you are fat and fine, and the other claims you are poor and skinny. Don't let our brothers fight over such a foolish thing as that. It would be wicked. Now I can decide it, if you will let me feel all over you to see if you are fat or poor. Then I will go back to the men and settle the trouble by telling them the truth. Stand still and let me feel your sides--quick, lest the fight begin while I am away.'
"'All right,' said the Bulls, 'but don't you tickle us.' Then OLD-man walked up close and commenced to feel about the Bulls' sides; but his heart was bad. From his robe he slipped his great knife, and slyly felt about till he found the spot where the heart beats, and then stabbed the knife into the place, clear up to the hilt.
"Both of the Bulls died right away, and OLD-man laughed at the trick he had played upon them. Then he gave a knife to both of his hands, and said:
"'Get to work, both of you! Skin these Bulls while I sit here and boss you.'
"Both hands commenced to skin the Buffalo,
but the right hand was much the swifter
worker. It gained upon the left hand rapidly,
and this made the left hand angry. Finally the
left hand called the right hand 'dog-face.'
That is the very worst thing you can call a
person in our language, you know, and of
course it made the right hand angry. So
crazy and angry was the right hand that it
stabbed the left hand, and then they began to
fight in earnest.
"Both cut and slashed till blood covered
the animals they were skinning. All this fighting
hurt OLD-man badly, of course, and he
commenced to cry, as women do sometimes.
This stopped the fight; but still OLD-man cried,
till, drying his tears, he saw a Red Fox sitting
near the Bulls, watching him. 'Hi, there, you
--go away from there ! If you want meat
you go and kill it, as I did.'
"Red Fox laughed--'Ha!--Ha!--Ha!--
foolish OLD-man--Ha!--ha!' Then he ran
away and told the other Foxes and the Wolves
and the Coyotes about OLD-man's meat. Told
them that his own hands couldn't get along
with themselves and that it would be easy
to steal it from him.
"They all followed the Red Fox back to
the place where OLD-man was, and there they
ate all of the meat--every bit, and polished
the bones.
"OLD-man couldn't stop them, because he was hurt, you see; but it all came about through lying and killing more meat than he needed. Yes--he lied and that is bad, but his hands got to quarrelling between themselves, and family quarrels are always bad. Do not lie; do not quarrel. It is bad. Ho!"
WHY THE NIGHT-HAWK'S WINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL
I was awakened by the voice of the campcrier, and although it was yet dark I listened to his message.
The camp was to move. All were to go to the mouth of the Maria's--"The River That Scolds at the Other"--the Indians call this stream, that disturbs the waters of the Missouri with its swifter flood.
On through the camp the crier rode, and behind him the lodge-fires glowed in answer to his call. The village was awake, and soon the thunder of hundreds of hoofs told me that the pony-bands were being driven into camp, where the faithful were being roped for the journey. Fires flickered in the now fading darkness, and down came the lodges as though wizard hands had touched them. Before the sun had come to light the world, we were on our way to "The River That Scolds at the Other."
Not a cloud was in the sky, and the wind
was still. The sun came and touched the
plains and hilltops with the light that makes
all wild things glad. Here and there a jackrabbit
scurried away, often followed by a
pack of dogs, and sometimes, though not often,
they were overtaken and devoured on the
spot. Bands of graceful antelope bounded out
of our way, stopping on a knoll to watch the
strange procession with wondering eyes, and
once we saw a dust-cloud raised by a moving
herd of buffalo, in the distance.
So the day wore on, the scene constantly
changing as we travelled. Wolves and coyotes
looked at us from almost every knoll and hilltop;
and sage-hens sneaked to cover among
the patches of sage-brush, scarcely ten feet
away from our ponies. Toward sundown we
reached a grove of cottonwoods near the mouth
of the Maria's, and in an incredibly short
space of time the lodges took form. Soon,
from out the tops of a hundred camps, smoke
was curling just as though the lodges had
been there always, and would forever remain.
As soon as supper was over I found the
children, and together we sought War Eagle's
lodge. He was in a happy mood and insisted
upon smoking two pipes before commencing
his story-telling. At last he said:
"To-night I shall tell you why the Nighthawk wears fine clothes. My grandfather told me about it when I was young. I am sure you have seen the Night-hawk sailing over you, dipping and making that strange noise. Of course there is a reason for it.
"OLD-man was travelling one day in the
springtime; but the weather was fine for that
time of year. He stopped often and spoke to
the bird-people and to the animal-people, for
he was in good humor that day. He talked
pleasantly with the trees, and his heart grew
tender. That is, he had good thoughts; and
of course they made him happy. Finally he
felt tired and sat down to rest on a big, round
stone--the kind of stone our white friend
there calls a bowlder. Here he rested for a
while, but the stone was cold, and he felt it
through his robe; so he said:
"'Stone, you seem cold to-day. You may have my robe. I have hundreds of robes in my camp, and I don't need this one at all.' That was a lie he told about having so many robes. All he had was the one he wore.
"He spread his robe over the stone, and then started down the hill, naked, for it was really a fine day. But storms hide in the mountains, and are never far away when it is springtime. Soon it began to snow--then the wind blew from the north with a good strength behind it. OLD-man said:
"'Well, I guess I do need that robe myself, after all. That stone never did anything for me anyhow. Nobody is ever good to a stone. I'll just go back and get my robe.'
"Back he went and found the stone. Then
he pulled the robe away, and wrapped it about
himself. Ho! but that made the stone angry
--Ho! OLD-man started to run down the
hill, and the stone ran after him. Ho! it
was a funny race they made, over the grass,
over smaller stones, and over logs that lay
in the way, but OLD-man managed to keep
ahead until he stubbed his toe on a big
sage-brush, and fell--swow!
"'Now I have you!' cried the stone--'now I'll kill you, too! Now I will teach you to give presents and then take them away,' and the stone rolled right on top of OLD-man, and sat on his back.
"It was a big stone, you see, and OLD-man couldn't move it at all. He tried to throw off the stone but failed. He squirmed and twisted--no use--the stone held him fast. He called the stone some names that are not good; but that never helps any. At last he began to call:
"'Help!--Help!--Help!' but nobody
heard him except the Night-hawk, and he
told the OLD-man that he would help him all
he could; so he flew away up in the air--so
far that he looked like a black speck. Then
he came down straight and struck that rock
an awful blow--'swow!'--and broke it in
two pieces. Indeed he did. The blow was
so great that it spoiled the Night-hawk's bill,
forever--made it queer in shape, and jammed
his head, so that it is queer, too. But he
broke the rock, and OLD-man stood upon his
feet.
"'Thank you, Brother Night-hawk, ' said OLDman,
'now I will do something for you. I
am going to make you different from other
birds--make you so people will always notice
you.'
"You know that when you break a rock
the powdered stone is white, like snow; and
there is always some of the white powder
whenever you break a rock, by pounding it.
Well, Old-man took some of the fine powdered
stone and shook it on the Night-hawk's wings
in spots and stripes--made the great white
stripes you have seen on his wings, and told
him that no other bird could have such marks
on his clothes.
"All the Night-hawk's children dress the same way now; and they always will as long as there are Night-hawks. Of course their clothes make them proud; and that is why they keep at flying over people's heads--soaring and dipping and turning all the time, to show off their pretty wings.
"That is all for to-night. Muskrat, tell your father I would run Buffalo with him tomorrow --Ho!"
WHY THE MOUNTAIN-LION IS LONG AND LEAN
Have you ever seen the plains in the
morning--a June morning, when the
spurred lark soars and sings--when the plover
calls, and the curlew pipes his shriller notes
to the rising sun? Then is there music, indeed,
for no bird outsings the spurred lark;
and thanks to OLD-man he is not wanting in
numbers, either. The plains are wonderful
then--more wonderful than they are at this
season of the year; but at all times they beckon
and hold one as in a spell, especially when
they are backed or bordered by a snow-capped
mountain range. Looking toward the east
they are boundless, but on their western edge
superb mountains rear themselves.
All over this vast country the Indians
roamed, following the great buffalo herds as
did the wolves, and making their living with
the bow and lance, since the horse came to
them. In the very old days the "piskun"
was used, and buffalo were enticed to follow
a fantastically dressed man toward a cliff, far
enough to get the herd moving in that direction,
when the "buffalo-man" gained cover,
and hidden Indians raised from their hiding
places behind the animals, and drove them
over the cliff, where they were killed in large
numbers.
Not until Cortez came with his cavalry from
Spain, were there horses on this continent, and
then generations passed ere the plains tribes
possessed this valuable animal, that so materially
changed their lives. Dogs dragged
the Indian's travois or packed his household
goods in the days before the horse came, and
for hundreds--perhaps thousands of years,
these people had no other means of transporting
their goods and chattels. As the Indian
is slow to forget or change the ways of his
father, we should pause before we brand him
as wholly improvident, I think.
He has always been a family-man, has the Indian, and small children had to be carried, as well as his camp equipage. Wolf-dogs had to be fed, too, in some way, thus adding to his burden; for it took a great many to make it possible for him to travel at all.
When the night came and we visited War
Eagle, we found he had other company--so
we waited until their visit was ended before
settling ourselves to hear the story that he
might tell us.
"The Crows have stolen some of our best horses," said War Eagle, as soon as the other guests had gone. "That is all right--we shall get them back, and more, too. The Crows have only borrowed those horses and will pay for their use with others of their own. To-night I shall tell you why the Mountain lion is so long and thin and why he wears hair that looks singed. I shall also tell you why that person's nose is black, because it is part of the story.
"A long time ago the Mountain-lion was
a short, thick-set person. I am sure you
didn't guess that. He was always a great
thief like OLD-man, but once he went too far,
as you shall see.
"One day OLD-man was on a hilltop, and
saw smoke curling up through the trees, away
off on the far side of a gulch. 'Ho!' he said,
'I wonder who builds fires except me. I guess
I will go and find out.'
"He crossed the gulch and crept carefully
toward the smoke. When he got quite near
where the fire was, he stopped and listened.
He heard some loud laughing but could not
see who it was that felt so glad and gay.
Finally he crawled closer and peeked through
the brush toward the fire. Then he saw some
Squirrel-people, and they were playing some
sort of game. They were running and laughing,
and having a big time, too. What do
you think they were doing? They were running
about the fire--all chasing one Squirrel.
As soon as the Squirrel was caught, they would
bury him in the ashes near the fire until he
cried; then they would dig him out in a hurry.
Then another Squirrel would take the lead
and run until he was caught, as the other
had been. In turn the captive would submit
to being buried, and so on--while the
racing and laughing continued. They never
left the buried one in the ashes after he cried,
but always kept their promise and dug him
out, right away.
"'Say, let me play, won't you?' asked
OLD-man. But the Squirrel-people all ran
away, and he had a hard time getting them
to return to the fire.
"'You can't play this game,' replied the Chief-Squirrel, after they had returned to the fire.
"'Yes, I can,' declared OLD-man, 'and you may bury me first, but be sure to dig me out when I cry, and not let me burn, for those ashes are hot near the fire.'
"'All right,' said the Chief-Squirrel, 'we
will let you play. Lie down,'--and OLDMan
did lie down near the fire. Then the
Squirrels began to laugh and bury OLD-man
in the ashes, as they did their own kind. In
no time at all OLD-man cried: 'Ouch!--you
are burning me--quick!--dig me out.'
"True to their promise, the Squirrel-people dug OLD-man out of the ashes, and laughed at him because he cried so quickly.
"'Now, it is my turn to cover the captive,' said OLD-man, 'and as there are so many of you, I have a scheme that will make the game funnier and shorter. All of you lie down at once in a row. Then I will cover you all at one time. When you cry--I will dig you out right away and the game will be over.'
"They didn't know OLD-man very well; so they said, 'all right,' and then they all laid down in a row about the fire.
"OLD-man buried them all in the ashes--
then he threw some more wood on the fire
and went away and left them. Every Squirrel
there was in the world was buried in the ashes
except one woman Squirrel, and she told OLDman
she couldn't play and had to go home.
If she hadn't gone, there might not be any
Squirrels in this world right now. Yes, it
is lucky that she went home.
"For a minute or so OLD-man watched the fire as it grew hotter, and then went down to a creek where willows grew and made himself a great plate by weaving them together. When he had finished making the plate, he returned to the fire, and it had burned low again. He laughed at his wicked work, and a Raven, flying over just then, called him 'forked-tongue,' or liar, but he didn't mind that at all. OLD-man cut a long stick and began to dig out the Squirrel-people. One by one he fished them out of the hot ashes; and they were roasted fine and were ready to eat. As he fished them out he counted them, and laid them on the willow plate he had made. When he had dug out the last one, he took the plate to the creek and there sat down to eat the Squirrels, for he was hungry, as usual. OLD-man is a big eater, but he couldn't eat all of the Squirrels at once, and while eating he fell asleep with the great plate in his lap.
"Nobody knows how long it was that he
slept, but when he waked his plate of Squirrels
was gone--gone completely. He looked behind
him; he looked about him; but the plate
was surely gone. Ho! But he was angry.
He stamped about in the brush and called
aloud to those who might hear him; but nobody
answered, and then he started to look
for the thief. OLD-man has sharp eyes, and he
found the trail in the grass where somebody
had passed while he slept. 'Ho!' he said,
'the Mountain-lion has stolen my Squirrels.
I see his footprints; see where he has mashed
the grass as he walked with those soft feet
of his; but I shall find him, for I made him
and know all his ways.'
"OLD-man got down on his hands and knees to walk as the Bear-people do, just as he did that night in the Sun's lodge, and followed the trail of the Mountain-lion over the hills and through the swamps. At last he came to a place where the grass was all bent down, and there he found his willow plate, but it was empty. That was the place where the Mountain-lion had stopped to eat the rest of the Squirrels, you know; but he didn't stay there long because he expected that OLD-man would try to follow him.
"The Mountain-lion had eaten so much
that he was sleepy and, after travelling a while
after he had eaten the Squirrels, he thought
he would rest. He hadn't intended to go
to sleep; but he crawled upon a big stone near
the foot of a hill and sat down where he could
see a long way. Here his eyes began to wink,
and his head began to nod, and finally he
slept.
"Without stopping once, OLD-man kept on
the trail. That is what counts--sticking right
to the thing you are doing--and just before
sundown OLD-man saw the sleeping Lion. Carefully,
lest he wake the sleeper, OLD-man crept
close, being particular not to move a stone or
break a twig; for the Mountain-lion is much
faster than men are, you see; and if OLD-man
had wakened the Lion, he would never have
caught him again, perhaps. Little by little
he crept to the stone where the Mountainlion
was dreaming, and at last grabbed him
by the tail. It wasn't much of a tail then,
but enough for OLD-man to hold to. Ho!
The Lion was scared and begged hard, saying:
"'Spare me, OLD-man. You were full and
I was hungry. I had to have something to
eat; had to get my living. Please let me go
and do not hurt me.' Ho! OLD-man was
angry--more angry than he was when he
waked and found that he had been robbed,
because he had travelled so far on his hands
and knees.
"'I'll show you. I'll teach you. I'll fix you, right now. Steal from me, will you? Steal from the man that made you, you nightprowling rascal!'
"OLD-man put his foot behind the Mountain
-lion's head, and, still holding the tail,
pulled hard and long, stretching the Lion
out to great length. He squalled and cried,
but OLD-man kept pulling until he nearly
broke the Mountain-lion in two pieces--
until he couldn't stretch him any more. Then
OLD-man put his foot on the Mountain-lion's
back, and, still holding the tail, stretched
that out until the tail was nearly as long as
the body.
"'There, you thief--now you are too long and lean to get fat, and you shall always look just like that. Your children shall all grow to look the same way, just to pay you for your stealing from the man that made you. Come on with me'; and he dragged the poor Lion back to the place where the fire was, and there rolled him in the hot ashes, singeing his robe till it looked a great deal like burnt hair. Then OLD-man stuck the Lion's nose against the burnt logs and blackened it some --that is why his face looks as it does to-day.
"The Mountain-lion was lame and sore,
but OLD-man scolded him some more and
told him that it would take lots more food to
keep him after that, and that he would have
to work harder to get his living, to pay for
what he had done. Then he said, 'go now,
and remember all the Mountain-lions that ever
live shall look just as you do.' And they
do, too!
"That is the story--that is why the Mountain -lion is so long and lean, but he is no bigger thief than OLD-man, nor does he tell any more lies. Ho!"
THE FIRE-LEGGINGS
There had been a sudden change in the
weather. A cold rain was falling, and the
night comes early when the clouds hang low.
The children loved a bright fire, and
to-night War Eagle's lodge was light as day.
Away off on the plains a wolf was howling, and
the rain pattered upon the lodge as though
it never intended to quit. It was a splendid
night for story-telling, and War Eagle filled and
lighted the great stone pipe, while the children
made themselves comfortable about the fire.
A spark sprang from the burning sticks, and fell upon Fine Bow's bare leg. They all laughed heartily at the boy's antics to rid himself of the burning coal; and as soon as the laughing ceased War Eagle laid aside the pipe. An Indian's pipe is large to look at, but holds little tobacco.
"See your shadows on the lodge wall?"
asked the old warrior. The children said they
saw them, and he continued:
"Some day I will tell you a story about them, and how they drew the arrows of our enemies, but to-night I am going to tell you of the great fire-leggings.
"It was long before there were men and
women on the world, but my grandfather told
me what I shall now tell you.
"The gray light that hides the night-stars was creeping through the forests, and the wind the Sun sends to warn the people of his coming was among the fir tops. Flowers, on slender stems, bent their heads out of respect for the herald-wind's Master, and from the dead top of a pine-tree the Yellowhammer beat upon his drum and called 'the Sun is awake--all hail the Sun!'
"Then the bush-birds began to sing the song of the morning, and from alders the Robins joined, until all live things were awakened by the great music. Where the tall ferns grew, the Doe waked her Fawns, and taught them to do homage to the Great Light. In the creeks, where the water was still and clear, and where throughout the day, like a delicate damaskeen, the shadows of leaves that overhang would lie, the Speckled Trout broke the surface of the pool in his gladness of the coming day. Pine-squirrels chattered gayly, and loudly proclaimed what the wind had told; and all the shadows were preparing for a great journey to the Sand Hills, where the ghostpeople dwell.
"Under a great spruce-tree--where the
ground was soft and dry, OLD-man slept. The
joy that thrilled creation disturbed him not,
although the Sun was near. The bird-people
looked at the sleeper in wonder, but the Pine
squirrel climbed the great spruce-tree with a
pine-cone in his mouth. Quickly he ran out
on the limb that spread over OLD-man, and
dropped the cone on the sleeper's face. Then
he scolded OLD-man, saying: 'Get up--get
up--lazy one--lazy one--get up--get up.'
"Rubbing his eyes in anger, OLD-man sat
up and saw the Sun coming--his hunting leggings
slipping through the thickets--setting
them afire, till all the Deer and Elk ran out
and sought new places to hide.
"'Ho, Sun!' called OLD-man, 'those are mighty leggings you wear. No wonder you are a great hunter. Your leggings set fire to all the thickets, and by the light you can easily see the Deer and Elk; they cannot hide. Ho! Give them to me and I shall then be the great hunter and never be hungry.'
"'Good,' said the Sun, 'take them, and let me see you wear my leggings.'
"OLD-man was glad in his heart, for he was lazy, and now he thought he could kill the game without much work, and that he could be a great hunter--as great as the Sun. He put on the leggings and at once began to hunt the thickets, for he was hungry. Very soon the leggings began to burn his legs. The faster he travelled the hotter they grew, until in pain he cried out to the Sun to come and take back his leggings; but the Sun would not hear him. On and on OLD-man ran. Faster and faster he flew through the country, setting fire to the brush and grass as he passed. Finally he came to a great river, and jumped in. Sizzzzzzz-- the water said, when OLD-man's legs touched it. It cried out, as it does when it is sprinkled upon hot stones in the sweat-lodge, for the leggings were very hot. But standing in the cool water OLD-man took off the leggings and threw them out upon the shore, where the Sun found them later in the day.
"The Sun's clothes were too big for OLDman, and his work too great.
"We should never ask to do the things which Manitou did not intend us to do. If we keep this always in mind we shall never get into trouble.
"Be yourselves always. That is what Mantou intended. Never blame the Wolf for what he does. He was made to do such things. Now I want you to go to your fathers' lodges and sleep. To-morrow night I will tell you why there are so many snakes in the world. Ho!"
THE MOON AND THE GREAT SNAKE
The rain had passed; the moon looked
down from a clear sky, and the bushes
and dead grass smelled wet, after the heavy
storm. A cottontail ran into a clump of
wild-rose bushes near War Eagle's lodge, and
some dogs were close behind the frightened
animal, as he gained cover. Little Buffalo Calf
threw a stone into the bushes, scaring the
rabbit from his hiding-place, and away went
bunny, followed by the yelping pack. We
stood and listened until the noise of the chase
died away, and then went into the lodge, where
we were greeted, as usual, by War Eagle.
To-night he smoked; but with greater ceremony,
and I suspected that it had something
to do with the forthcoming story. Finally he
said:
"You have seen many Snakes, I suppose?" "Yes," replied the children, "we have seen a great many. In the summer we see them every day."
"Well," continued the story-teller, "once there was only one Snake on the whole world, and he was a big one, I tell you. He was pretty to look at, and was painted with all the colors we know. This snake was proud of his clothes and had a wicked heart. Most Snakes are wicked, because they are his relations.
"Now, I have not told you all about it yet, nor will I tell you to-night, but the Moon is the Sun's wife, and some day I shall tell you that story, but to-night I am telling you about the Snakes.
"You know that the Sun goes early to bed, and that the Moon most always leaves before he gets to the lodge. Sometimes this is not so, but that is part of another story.
"This big Snake used to crawl up a high hill and watch the Moon in the sky. He was in love with her, and she knew it; but she paid no attention to him. She liked his looks, for his clothes were fine, and he was always slick a