Part 2

When the prince reached the pasture with the mare he determined to sit upon her back all day, for if he did that he was sure she could never escape from him. He sat there for a long time, but he grew drowsier and drowsier, and at last he fell fast asleep. When he awoke he was seated on a log of wood with the halter still in his hand, and the mare was gone.

The prince was in despair, but suddenly he remembered the promise the little fish had made him. He took out the scale which he had been carrying all this time, and rubbing it gently he cried:

"Little fish, if friend indeed, Help me in my time of need."

Immediately the little fish stuck its head up from a stream near by. "What can I do to help you, brother?" it asked.

"Can you tell me where the black mare has gone?" asked the prince.

"Yes; she has changed herself into a fish and is hiding down in the stream with us. But do not trouble yourself about that. Just strike the halter upon the ground and call out, 'Black mare, black mare, come out from among the fishes for it is time to go home.'"

The prince did as the fish bade him and as soon as the black mare down in the stream heard those words it was obliged to come out and take its natural shape again. The prince then mounted upon it and rode it home.

When they reached the stable the old gray woman was on the watch, and she could scarcely hide her rage and disappointment at finding the serving lad had managed to bring the black mare home. However, she bade him go to the kitchen and get his supper, and she followed the black mare to the stall. "You fool," she cried, and she was ready to beat it in her rage, "why did you not hide among the fishes as I bade you?"

"Mistress, I did," answered the mare, "but the fishes are friends of the lad, and told him where I was, so I was obliged to come forth."

"To-morrow, change yourself into a fox and hide among the pack. There he will certainly be unable to find you."

After that she went into the kitchen where the lad was eating his supper.

"Well," she said, "you have done very well so far, but to-morrow is still another day, and we will see how things go then."

On the morrow the prince rode the black mare out to pasture, and again he sat on her back so that she should not escape him. After awhile he fell asleep in spite of himself, and when he awoke he was sitting astride of a branch with the halter in his hand.

At first the prince did not know what to do; he was in despair. Then he remembered the promise the fox had made him. He took the hairs and rubbed them between his fingers.

"Little fox, if friend indeed, Help me in my time of need,"

he said.

Immediately the little red fox came running out of the wood. "What would you have of me, brother?" he asked.

"Can you tell me where the gray woman's black mare has gone?"

"That is easily answered. She has changed herself into a fox and is hiding with the pack. Strike the halter on the ground and call out: 'Black mare, black mare, come from among the foxes; it is time to go home.'"

The prince did as he was told and as soon as the mare heard him calling to her in this way she was obliged to come out from the pack and take her real shape, and the prince mounted upon her back and rode her home.

When the witch saw him riding back to the house she ground her teeth with rage. As soon as she had sent him to the kitchen she went out to the black mare's stall to beat it. "To the foxes! to the foxes! That was what I told you," she cried.

"Mistress, I did hide among them as you bade me," answered the mare, "but this lad is a friend of the foxes too, and they told him where I was."

"Then to-morrow hide among the wolves," said the old woman. "He will certainly never look for you there."

The next day it was the same thing over again. The prince sat on the mare's back so that she should not escape him. After while he went to sleep, and the mare slipped away from him, but this time it was into a wolf she changed herself.

When the prince awoke he was in despair, until he remembered that he had still one friend to help him. He gently rubbed the hairs the wolf had given him, and said,

"Kind gray wolf, if friend indeed, Help me in my time of need."

Immediately the wolf came galloping out of the wood and asked the prince what he could do for him.

The prince told him how he had been set to watch the black mare and had gone to sleep and lost her; "And now," said he, "I fear there is nothing for me but to lose my head and have it set upon a post."

"That will not happen yet," answered the wolf. "The mare has changed herself to a wolf and is hiding with the pack. Strike the halter on the ground and call to her and she will be obliged to come."

The prince did as he was told and called to the mare to come, and she was obliged to take her real shape and come out to him.

The prince slipped the halter over her head, sprang upon her back and rode her home.

When the old gray woman saw him coming in this way instead of upon his feet, she almost burst with rage. However, there was no help for it. The lad had earned his wages, and have them he must.

"And what is it you will choose?" asked the old gray woman.

"Give me the poor nag that stands in the furthest stall," said the prince. "It is but a sorry looking beast, but I will be content with that," answered the prince.

When the old woman heard that she turned green in the face. She offered him first one and then another of the handsome horses in her stable, but the lad would have none of them. The sorry nag was his choice and it alone would he take, and in the end the old woman was obliged to give it to him. He rode away on it, and it was not the old gray mother's blessing that went with him.

When they were well out of sight of the house and in the depths of the forest, the prince alighted and taking out a curry comb he had brought with him he began to rub and curry the horse, and when he had done that it shone like burnished silver.

Then he mounted again and rode on until he came to the dragon's castle. As soon as he drew near, the princess came running down to meet him, for the dragon was away, and she had been watching from a high tower and had seen him coming.

He took her up on the saddle before him and turned his horse's head and rode away from the castle even faster than he had ridden toward it, and they had journeyed far before the dragon returned home.

As soon as he reached there and found the princess gone he knew what had happened. Then he said to his horse, "Shall we follow after them now, or shall we eat and drink first?"

"We have no time for meat or drink now," answered the black horse, "and it will be all I can do to overtake them, for now they ride my own brother."

Then the dragon leaped upon his horse, and off they flew, faster than the wind, in pursuit of the prince and princess. They went on and on, and after a while the dragon came within sight of them, for though the white horse was swifter than the wind, too, he carried double and so could not go at his highest speed.

Nearer and nearer came the dragon and his steed, and the prince began to beg and plead with his steed to go faster, but it answered, "There is no need of that, master; only leave everything to me and all will go well."

Then the black horse came near enough to speak, and he called after the other, "For mercy's sake go slower, brother. I shall kill myself running after you."

"There is no need of your doing that," answered the white horse. "Throw up your heels and rid yourself of the monster that sits upon your back. You have been his servant too long as it is."

When the black horse heard this he began to plunge and kick up his heels so that the dragon was thrown from his back and falling upon a rock he was broken to pieces.

But the black horse came up to his brother, and the prince set the princess upon his back, while he himself kept the white horse to ride. So they all journeyed back to the pleasure palace together, and when the six sisters saw them there were great rejoicings, and they all lived together happily in the palace forever after.

MISHOSHA, THE MAGICIAN OF THE LAKE

(_From Tales of the American Indians_)

UPON the borders of a wide and lonely lake lived an Indian with his wife and two children.

Every day the Indian went off into the forest in search of game, and after he had gone the woman always sent the two boys down to play by the edge of the lake. This she did because she had a lover who came to visit her while her husband was away and she was afraid if her children saw him they might speak of him before their father.

One day the husband came back from his hunting earlier than usual. He heard voices in the lodge and stole up to it and peeped in. There he saw a strange man sitting with his wife and talking to her. The Indian was so angry that he threw the game down before the door, and strode off into the forest never to return.

So silently had he come and gone that his wife did not know he had been there until she came out and saw the game lying near the door where he had thrown it and his bow and arrows beside it. Then she was frightened, for she thought he would return later when she was alone and beat her. She begged her lover to take her with him, and as he was willing they stole away together, with not a thought of the two children left playing down by the lake.

After some time had passed the two boys tired of their play and wondered why their mother did not call them as usual. They grew hungry and at last came up to the lodge for food. There all was silent and deserted. There was no sound nor movement except among the leaves overhead. The boys called aloud, but there was no answer. Beside the door still lay the game that their father had brought, and to satisfy their hunger the older brother cut some pieces from it and cooked them at the fire. When night came they crept into a corner of the lodge and began to weep. They knew now that they were deserted.

After this the two brothers lived all alone. The older, Panigwun knew how to shoot, and every day he took his father's bow and arrows and went off into the forest for game. Almost always he was able to bring something home with him.

The younger brother did nothing but play. He was very mischievous. One day when Panigwun was making a fire he carried the bow and arrows down to the lake, and began to amuse himself by shooting them into the water. Presently the elder brother saw what he was doing and called to him not to waste the arrows. The boy only ran further along the shore and kept on shooting. The elder brother ran after him and took the bow and arrows from his hands. Out in the lake a number of arrows floated on the water, and not wishing to lose them Panigwun waded out to get them. Some were quite far from the shore and by the time he reached the last one the water was up to his armpits. The younger brother stood on the shore laughing.

Suddenly from around a bend in the lake appeared a canoe, and in it sat an old man with streaming gray hair. He held no paddle, but the canoe swept onward of its own power, for it was a magic canoe, and the old man was Mishosha, the magician of the lake. When it reached the spot where Panigwun still stood the magician leaned over the side and lifted the boy into it. Then he slapped the side of the canoe. "CHEMANN POLL," he cried. Immediately it turned and sped away toward a large island that lay in the middle of the lake.

The little boy, when he saw his elder brother being carried away from him, ran down to the edge of the lake, crying piteously. "Take me with you! Take me too!" he called. But the canoe still swept onward. He waded out into the lake as far as he dared, and stood there for some time weeping and calling his brother's name; but there was no answer, the canoe had disappeared. At last he turned and waded back to the shore. Then he threw himself down and wept bitterly. He was now entirely deserted.

Meanwhile the elder brother had been carried to the island where the magician lived. It was in vain that he begged to be taken back to his little brother, or even that the little boy might be taken with them; the magician made no answer. When the canoe reached the shore of the island, Mishosha stepped from it, and motioned to Panigwun to follow him. He led the way back from the water and through bushes and past rocks and stopped at last before a lodge where two young girls were busy preparing a meal. They did not speak, but they cast looks of pity at the companion the magician had brought with him.

Mishosha spoke to the older of the two girls in a harsh voice. "I have brought you a youth who shall be your husband when you are old enough to marry. Take him to an empty lodge, and mind, no chattering on the way or you will be sorry for it."

The girl started when Mishosha spoke to her, and looked at him with terror. When he had ended she turned to obey him with such haste that she tripped over a root and fell. The magician laughed a cruel laugh at the sight of her terror.

When the girl had picked herself up she led the way through the bushes, Panigwun following her, to where several empty lodges were. Here she paused, standing with her eyes cast down, and motioned to him to choose one. The boy looked about him, and was about to enter the one that seemed the most convenient, but the girl caught him by the arm with every sign of terror, and dragged him away from it. Panigwun looked at her with surprise, but she again stood with her eyes bent on the ground, waiting for him to choose.

"Since you do not wish me to have that one, I will take this," said Panigwun. He was about to enter another lodge, but again the girl caught him by the arm and dragged him from it. "Very well," said the boy impatiently, "since you will not let me choose for myself you shall choose for me. Which shall I take?"

The girl motioned him to a smaller lodge that stood a little way off by itself. "I will take that lodge," said Panigwun, "if you will tell me why you choose it. If you do not tell me I will take one of the larger ones."

The girl looked about to make sure that no one was near. Then she whispered hurriedly, "Those are ill-omened lodges. Those who lived in them went out with Mishosha in his canoe and never returned. But none has ever stayed in the smaller lodge. Take it." Immediately and without another word, she slipped away and disappeared in the bushes.

Panigwun entered the lodge, threw himself on the ground and began to lament. "Oh, my poor little brother! what will you do now?" he cried. "How will you live now that I have left you. You have not even the arrows to shoot game, for I carried them away with me. My poor little brother!"

He lay grieving for a long time, until the light faded and the stars came out. Suddenly he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and looking up he again saw the girl who had shown him to the lodge standing beside him. She laid her fingers on her lips as a sign for silence, and said in a voice as soft as a breath, "Mishosha is asleep. If we whisper he will not awaken, for the leaves whisper about him all night, and he is used to the sound. Down on the beach lies the magic canoe. Take it and go to visit your brother. Strike it on the side and say CHEMANN POLL and it will carry you wherever you wish. Only return soon, for if Mishosha awakens and finds you gone he will suspect me of helping you and punish me for it."

Panigwun would have thanked the girl, but she had disappeared like a shadow in the night.

Stealing down to the beach, he stepped into the canoe; he slapped it on the side and uttered the magic words, and immediately it shot out over the dark and silent lake, and did not pause until it ran up on the shore from which Panigwun had waded that morning.

Panigwun leaped from it, and hurried up the beach to the lodge and looked in. By the faint starlight he could see his little brother lying asleep near the door, the bow clasped tightly in his hand. The older brother would have awakened him, but he remembered what the girl had said, and feared if his brother saw him he would not have the heart to leave him again. Very quietly he placed beside the child the sheaf of arrows, and also the food that the magician had sent to his wigwam for his supper. A moment he lingered, and then, as silently as he had come, he returned to the canoe, and soon was speeding back again across the water to the island.

But in the little while that Panigwun had been away the weather had changed. The sky was overcast, and the first breath of a coming storm ruffled the dark waters of the lake. He sprang from the canoe and hastened to his lodge. He had scarcely entered when there was a brilliant flash of lightning, followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder.

In the silence that followed Panigwun heard the sound of feet running toward his lodge, and the next flash of lightning showed him the magician standing in the doorway. His face was drawn and haggard with terror. He ran to Panigwun and caught hold of him, and the youth could feel how he was shaking.

"Oh, my good Panigwun, you are not asleep, are you?" he cried with chattering teeth. "I could not sleep either. I came to see whether you were comfortable. Let us sit down and talk. I am not afraid--not afraid. I have had a curious dream, and I came to talk about dreams." Again there came a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder. Mishosha fell on the floor and caught the boy by the feet. "I have never done you any harm! Say I have never done you any harm. It is the storm king. He is mightier than I. He is searching for me. Ah!" A flash of lightning brighter than the rest filled the lodge with light. "Hide me! hide me, Panigwun. What I did to-day was only in joke. To-morrow I will take you back to your brother. I always intended to. Only hide me till this terrible storm is past."

Panigwun took up a blanket and threw it over Mishosha, and the magician rolled himself up in it, and lay shaken and trembling with fear, groaning aloud at each flash of lightning brighter than the rest.

Gradually the storm died away; the thunder reverberated more dully among the distant hills; the lightning grew fainter; the terror of the storm was over.

Mishosha freed himself from the blanket, rose and walked to the door of the lodge. There he stood looking out. "The storm has passed," he said in his ordinary voice. "About dreams, I came to tell you of one I had had, but it grows late. Some other time I will tell it."

"And you will take me back to-morrow to my brother?" asked the boy.

Mishosha laughed harshly. "We will make no promises to-night. To-morrow we might think them dreams we had dreamed. Another thing I would say. Beware how you touch my canoe. And do not have a dream that you can do anything on this island without my knowing of it." He cast an evil glance at Panigwun and strode away through the night toward his own lodge.

The next morning Mishosha said to the boy, "I am going to an island to gather gulls' eggs, and you will go with me."

"But will you not take me to see my little brother first?"

"Some other time," answered the magician. "We must make an early start if we are to reach the gulls' island." He stepped into the canoe and Panigwun followed him. "CHEMANN POLL," he cried, and away they sped over the water.

The wooded island dropped out of sight behind them, and another island rose to view. This one was bleak and rocky; over it hovered thousands of sea gulls, filling the air with their harsh cries. The canoe stopped beside a rocky ledge, and the magician said to the boy, "Do you go ashore and gather the gulls' eggs, and I will await you here."

Fearing no evil, Panigwun stepped out on the rocks. Immediately the canoe slipped out into the deep water. "Oh, gulls," shouted Mishosha in a loud voice, "I have long wished to make you an offering. Take this youth as a gift from me. He will serve as food for you and your children." Then he slapped his canoe upon the side and cried "CHEMANN POLL." The canoe shot away and was lost to sight, and Panigwun was left alone on the island.

The gulls rose and circled about him in a cloud. Their harsh cries deafened him. For a moment he was terrified; then he drew his knife and called upon his guardian spirit. With one blow he killed the nearest gull and hung it from his belt. "Man is the master of the birds," he cried aloud. "Ye are my servants. Take me upon your wings and carry me back to where I came from."

Immediately the birds settled about him upon the rocks. Panigwun stepped upon them, and they rose with him in a dense cloud, and carried him swiftly back to Mishosha's island. As he swept along through the sky he looked down and saw the canoe speeding across the lake below him.

When the magician reached the island Panigwun was already there and came to meet him. "You did not wait long enough for me to gather the gulls' eggs," he said.

Mishosha was wonder-struck at finding him safe when he supposed the gulls were already feasting upon him.

"I am so forgetful," he stammered. "I forgot I had left you upon the island. I should have remembered before long, however, and have returned for you." Within himself he thought, "This boy must have a very powerful guardian spirit, but all the same to-morrow he shall not escape me."

The next morning he said to Panigwun, "To-day I am going to take you to an island covered with precious stones of all kinds. There you may gather all you wish, and this time I will be careful and not forget you."

"Will you not take me to see my little brother to-day?" asked Panigwun.

The magician shot an evil glance at him from under his brows. "Some other day," he answered. "To-day we must go to the treasure island."

Panigwun followed him into the canoe, and again they sped over the waters of the lake, but this time in a different direction. Soon they reached a small island as steep and bare as the back of a fish. Among it's rocks lay a quantity of precious stones of all kinds, diamonds, emeralds and rubies.

"Look, my son!" said the magician. "Here are all the treasures you could wish. Step out and gather them."

Panigwun knew that the magician was planning some evil, but it was useless to disobey him. He landed, and immediately the canoe moved too far away from the shore for him to reach it.

"Rise, oh, king of the fishes," called the magician in a terrible voice. "I have long been wishing to offer up a victim to you. Here is a youth for you. Accept him as my offering." Then he slapped the canoe on the side and disappeared in the direction of the island.

A moment after the waters were disturbed, they broke in waves upon the island, and the head of a gigantic pike appeared. He came on toward Panigwun, his mouth open wide as if to swallow him. The youth did not lose his courage. He called upon his guardian angel, and then flourishing his knife he cried, "Man is the master of the fishes. You are my servant. Come here and take me on your back, and carry me to Mishosha's island."

At this command the pike came closer and floated beside the island. Panigwun stepped upon his back and the fish bore him away. So swiftly they went that they out-sped the canoe. When Mishosha reached the beach the youth was already there waiting to help him out. The magician looked at him with surprise and terror. "You here!" he muttered. "I am so forgetful; but I would soon have remembered you were on the island and have returned for you."

"I thought I would save you the trouble," answered Panigwun mockingly.

The next morning the magician again called Panigwun to go with him in his canoe. "And this time I will not forget you," he promised.

Panigwun gave him a look of scorn but said nothing.