Part 4

When an enemy came to attack them, this warrior was always the first to resist. His arm was strong, and his arrows went true and straight to the mark. He had gone alone on many a daring hunt, and had contended with the fiercest beasts of the forest and slain them. But greatest of all, he had fought alone with mighty giants, and overcome them, so that his tribe was rid of their evil magic. It was no wonder that the people thought him great.

But then, as so often follows, the warrior became puffed up with thoughts of his own courage and power, and he was filled with pride, and boastings.

“There is no one, among men or beasts,” he said, “who does not fear me. All men obey me. They tremble at the sound of my voice.”

Now there was in the tribe of this warrior an old grandmother to whom age had given great wisdom. And she thought within her heart, “Our warrior is becoming puffed up. He thinks too well of himself. It would be good for him to be humbled.” So among the women she said, “There is one whom I know, who is greater than the mighty warrior. _He_ would not tremble at his voice, nor obey his word.”

This saying was repeated to the men of the tribe, and in time it came to the ears of the great warrior himself. Immediately he went to the lodge of the grandmother.

“What is this, that I hear?” he enquired. “Show me who it is that will not obey my voice! Tell me his name!”

“His name is Wasis,” replied the grandmother, “and he sits inside my lodge.”

The warrior threw back the hanging of deer skin covering the entrance of the lodge, and strode within. There, upon the ground, sucking a piece of maple sugar, sat Wasis, the baby. The warrior looked at him in surprise. He knew nothing about babies, having been too busy all his life with battles and adventures to pay any attention to the little people of the tribe. But here was just a tiny fellow. It would be no trouble to get him to obey!

So without any ado, the warrior said, “Ho, baby, come here to me!”

The baby looked at him, but did not move. He repeated his command. The baby stopped sucking his maple sugar long enough to say “Goo, goo,” but he did not move.

Then the warrior said, “I will show him that I am to be feared, and then he will obey me.” So he began a war dance, and uttered fierce war cries, and Wasis opened his mouth and sent forth such piercing yells and shrieks, that the warrior stopped in amazement. And when he had stopped the baby began sucking his maple sugar again.

“Ho, baby, come here to me!” he repeated once more, but at that the baby again opened his mouth and cried so lustily that the great warrior covered his ears and ran from the lodge. “It is worse than the war cries of the Frost Giants!” he exclaimed.

“Did he obey you?” asked the grandmother.

“No,” said the warrior. “He is a little fellow, but he is mightier than I.”

“Yes,” answered the grandmother, “Wasis, the baby, conquers us all, and no one can resist him.”

And the baby, left alone in the lodge with his maple sugar, stopped now and then to say, “Goo, goo!” For had he not conquered the mighty warrior, the great brave of the tribe?

WHY THE SQUIRREL COUGHS

(Algonquin)

A GREAT trickster was Manabozho. He loved to play jokes upon his friends of the forest.

One day he invited them all to a feast in his wigwam. And every one came, from the woodpecker and the tiny mouse, to the great moose with branching horns.

It was a time of scarcity of food, and all were glad to be asked to a banquet.

But the meat that Manabozho had ready for his guests, he had prepared by magic--though of that no one knew except himself.

When all had assembled, Manabozho gave to each a portion of meat. The woodpecker was the first to taste of his, and as he took the delicious looking morsel in his mouth, it turned to ashes on his tongue, so that he was choked and began to cough. But the meat looked so good, and he was so hungry that he tasted again, and again it turned to ashes and choked him.

Every guest had the same experience. The little mouse, the otter, the badger, the fox, the wolf, and even the moose tasted his portion and it turned to ashes on his tongue.

In vain the guests tried to be courteous and to stifle their coughing, but it grew worse and worse as first one and then another ate of the meat.

At length there was such a deafening noise in the wigwam, caused by the chorus of coughing and strangling from so many throats great and small, that Manabozho picked up a club in pretended anger. Threatening them with it, he drove them out of doors, where he changed them all to squirrels.

And that, the Indians tell us, is the reason that the squirrel coughs.

WHY THE FROGS CROAK

(Algonquin)

“MO-O-O-O-RE, mo-o-o-o-re!” croaked a big frog in the marshes. “’Tis enough, ’tis enough, ’tis enough!” answered a smaller frog.

But the big frog called again, “Mo-o-o-o-re, mo-o-o-o-re!” And again the smaller frog answered, “’Tis enough! ’Tis enough!”

“What is it the frogs are quarreling about, grandmother?” asked a little Indian girl, and the grandmother replied, “About the water, I suppose.”

“Why do they quarrel about the water? Is it a story, grandmother?”

“Yes,” said the grandmother, “it is a story. Listen and I will tell it to you!

“In the long-time-ago all the waters of the land were tied up. The Indian people grew thirsty, and more thirsty. Their fields were drying up. The flowers withered. The people said, ‘We shall die!’

“Then there came to one of the villages the giant, Rabbit, and he said, ‘What is this I hear about the waters being tied up?’

“The Chief answered, ‘For many days there has been no water. The streams are empty. No little rivers come down the mountain side. Our corn is drying up. Our people’s throats are parched.’

“The giant, Rabbit, said, ‘I will go into the mountains and see who has tied up the water.’ Then he strode away, taking such great steps that he was out of sight in a moment.

“Up the mountain went the giant, and when he came to the top he found a tribe of men there, and they had tied up the water so that it stood in great pools which had grown green and slimy, because it was no longer fresh.

“‘What are you doing with the water?’ asked the Rabbit, and his voice rolled down the mountain like thunder. ‘Do you not know that the tribes below you are dying for want of it?’

“The Chief of the strange tribe came out to answer the Rabbit. He was fat and ugly, and his back was covered with green slime from the pool.

“‘We need the water for ourselves. It was running away down the mountain, so we stopped it,’ said the Chief.

“Rabbit reached out and caught the Chief by the back of his neck and shook him. The giant’s grasp was strong, and the Chief’s eyes bulged from his head, and he swelled up till he was puffed out all over, from trying to get his breath.

“‘So shall you look, you and all your tribe, hereafter,’ said Rabbit, holding him off and looking at him. Then he threw him into the green pool, and all his tribe with him.

“After that Rabbit untied the water, and all the little streams began to flow down the mountain. Our people, at the foot of the mountain, saw them coming, and they gave thanks to the Great Spirit, because he had helped the giant, Rabbit, to give them water again, that they might live.

“The tribe at the top of the mountain became frogs, as you see them now, and they have traveled to many parts of the land; but wherever they go they keep on quarreling about the water, as you have heard them this day.”

THE ROCK OF THE MEASURING WORM

EL CAPITÁN, IN THE YOSEMITE

(California Tribes)

TWO small Indian boys were seated before the tepee fashioning bows and arrows.

“Mine is not good!” exclaimed one of the boys, throwing aside the stick with which he had been working. “Besides, I am tired of sitting still. Let us go for a swim in the river.”

Away they dashed, running swiftly, as the Indian child is taught to run. Into the water they jumped, swimming, diving, splashing, and stopping now and then for a water battle.

At length they had had enough of the water, so out upon the bank they came.

“Let us climb upon this rock to dry ourselves. Its top is flat, and the sun is warm upon it.”

So they climbed upon the flat rock, and in a few moments both boys were fast asleep. Then a strange thing began to occur. The rock slowly and gradually commenced to stretch itself up, up, up, higher, and higher, and higher. And the boys continued to sleep.

Taller, and taller grew the rock, carrying the boys upward on its flat surface until at last their faces were bathed by the clouds that floated in the sky. And still they slept.

For many moons they slept; for a whole snow.

In the meantime the people of their village missed them and began to search. They searched by the river, and in the forest, but no one could find the missing boys. There was great sorrow in the village.

None of the people knew of the great rock. Only the animals knew.

Then one day the animals came together, and they said, “What is to be done? The people are sorrowing because of the boys that are lost. Can we not return them to their friends?”

So the animals decided to try to get the boys off the great rock.

“You are littlest,” said the lion to the mouse, “you try first.”

So the mouse made ready and sprang as high as she could up the side of the rock. Just a hand-breadth she jumped, and fell back into the valley.

So the rat tried next, and he made a mighty effort, and jumped two hand-breadths, and then he too fell back into the valley.

Alter that every sort of animal jumped in turn, the otter, and the badger, the fox, and the wolf, and the bear, and though each one jumped as high as he could, he jumped only against the side of the rock, and went tumbling back into the valley.

Last of all came the lion. With a mighty roar he sprang--but it was of no use: he too struck the side of the great rock and fell back with the others.

They were about to give up and go back to their homes in the river and in the forest, when a tiny measuring-worm came creeping over the grass. “By your leave,” she said quite humbly, addressing the lion, “I should like to try and see what I can do.”

“Ho-ho,” laughed all the animals together. “Ho-ho!”

But without waiting for their consent, the measuring-worm made her way slowly to the foot of the great rock, and then, little by little, little by little, she drew herself up, up, up the side of the mighty rock.

Up, and up, and up she went, until she was lost to sight of the animals waiting below.

At last she reached the top, and drew herself over the edge. And there lay the two boys, still sleeping.

Then the measuring-worm took the two boys, and started back. She climbed with them down the side of the rock, little by little, down, and down, and down.

At last she came within sight of the waiting animals.

Down, and down still she climbed until she was in their midst.

So mighty was the noise made by the assembled animals that it wakened the sleeping boys, and brought the men and women of the village to the foot of the great rock.

And so the boys were restored to their people.

But the great rock with its almost perpendicular sides stands to-day, lofty and imposing.

HOW THE FLYING SQUIRREL GOT HIS WINGS

(Iroquois)

LONG ago, in the Indian country, Nuk-da-go was chief of the squirrel tribe. One day he was passing through the woods to see how all the little squirrels were faring, and how they prospered in laying up their store of nuts for the winter.

Now when Nuk-da-go went about the woods he often made himself invisible, for by this means he heard and saw many things which would not have been said or done if the woods people had known that he was near.

On this day Nuk-da-go chanced to pass by the home of a little squirrel, Jo-nis-gy-ont, who had worked very hard all the autumn laying up nuts for his winter’s food.

Little Jo-nis-gy-ont lived all alone in a hollow tree close beside a great pine. On one side, near the edge of a bit of marsh, lived Brother Frog, and on the other side, under some rocks near the pine, lived Brother Woodchuck.

Now for some days Jo-nis-gy-ont had been noticing that his stock of nuts, instead of growing bigger, was growing smaller, though he worked hard every day.

The big hickory-nut tree, from which he carried his stores, was a half-hour’s journey away from the hollow tree. To be sure, there were acorns and cone seeds much nearer home, but, as every one knows, the hickory nut is the sweetest nut of the woods.

But of late, when Jo-nis-gy-ont returned from one of his long trips with his cheeks bulging with hickory nuts, he would find _fewer_ nuts in his storehouse in the hollow tree than he had left there when he started away. Little Jo-nis-gy-ont had his own ideas, but he thought it best to be frank and friendly.

One evening, as he and Brother Frog and Brother Woodchuck were sitting at the doors of their houses, little Brother Squirrel said, “Neighbors, I have found that there is a thief about. My store of nuts is being robbed.” Then he looked hard at Brother Frog and Brother Woodchuck--for in those days, you must know, the frog tribe and the woodchuck tribe were also eaters of nuts.

Brother Frog tried to look very much surprised as he said, “Who would be so mean as to steal from little Jo-nis-gy-ont’s store of hickory nuts? Such a thing would be a shame!” Then he managed to squeeze two big tears from his eyes and let them roll slowly down his fat cheeks.

And Brother Woodchuck said, “Surely no one in the forest would steal from you, little Brother Squirrel! There must be some mistake. Should I see any robber taking your store of nuts, it would go hard with him!”

But little Jo-nis-gy-ont had his own ideas still,--and so did Nuk-da-go, chief of the squirrel tribe, who was listening, unseen.

That night Nuk-da-go came back to the forest to look into the matter. He found little Jo-nis-gy-ont fast asleep; and down beside the rocks, where Brother Woodchuck had his home, he could see the dirt flying fast. Brother Woodchuck was digging for dear life. Nuk-da-go watched, and as soon as the hole was big enough, Brother Woodchuck began filling it with hickory nuts. Then he ran to the hollow tree, and in a few minutes was back with more nuts, which he dropped into the hole and covered carefully from sight.

Then Nuk-da-go went over to the edge of the marsh, where there was a stirring in the thick moss. Nuk-da-go watched. Soon he saw Brother Frog carefully lifting the moss, while he pushed under it a quantity of hickory nuts. Then Brother Frog hopped away in the direction of the hollow tree, and soon he was back, with his cheeks bulging. Then he dropped more hickory nuts, which he pushed carefully under the moss.

“The hickory-nut tree is a half-hour’s journey away,” said the wise Nuk-da-go. “I will look into this matter further.”

The next day Nuk-da-go went about among all the forest people and told them that little Jo-nis-gy-ont’s store of nuts was being robbed. “Shall we call a council?” he asked. “Shall we bring all the forest people together to find out who is the robber?”

And all the forest people said, “Yes, yes.”

That night the council was held, and all the forest people came except Brother Frog and Brother Woodchuck, who begged to be excused.

“No one can be excused from the council,” declared Nuk-da-go, who had been appointed Chief. “Jo-nis-gy-ont, as you are their nearest neighbor, I appoint you to go and bring them.”

Jo-nis-gy-ont hastened back, but when he told his errand, Brother Frog jumped far out into the marsh and pretended not to hear, and Brother Woodchuck slipped into his home under the rocks, out of sight.

But Nuk-da-go would be obeyed, so he went after them himself, and, being Chief of the Council and Chief of the tribe, Brother Frog and Brother Woodchuck had to come out when he called them, and they followed him along to the council, looking very meek and very mean indeed.

Then Nuk-da-go stood up before all the woods people and told them why he had called them together, and what he had seen. And when he had finished telling them about little Jo-nis-gy-ont’s store of nuts, and about the nuts that were under the rocks, and under the moss, the woods people looked at Brother Frog and Brother Woodchuck and they said, “We will go and look into this, too.”

So all the company of woods people went to the hollow tree near the pine and looked at Jo-nis-gy-ont’s poor little pile of nuts. Then they went and uncovered the nuts by the rock, and the nuts that were tucked beneath the moss. Then they looked at Brother Woodchuck and Brother Frog, and asked, “What have you to say?”

But Brother Woodchuck and Brother Frog hadn’t a word to say! They just looked mean, and ashamed.

Then the woods people decided that Nuk-da-go should be the judge. So he told Brother Frog to sit before him, and he said, “I pronounce you guilty of stealing your neighbor’s nuts, and you must be punished. You are fat and lazy. Your food flies past your door, and you have only to put out your tongue and catch it. Your little neighbor has to travel far for his food. You sleep all winter and have no need to store supplies. Jo-nis-gy-ont stays awake, and must eat. So your crime is doubly bad, and this shall be your punishment: Hereafter you shall not be able to eat nuts, for you shall lose all your teeth. Go to your home now, and steal no more.”

Brother Frog hopped away, very sad and very much ashamed, and with the first hop every one of his teeth dropped out,--and the frog tribe have had no teeth from that day to this.

Then Nuk-da-go turned to Brother Woodchuck, and said, “You, too, are found guilty of stealing your neighbor’s nuts, and you shall be punished. Like Brother Frog, you are fat and lazy. You sleep through the winter and need no food, while Jo-nis-gy-ont must work hard for his. Go home. You shall not lose your teeth--for Brother Woodchuck was holding his paws tightly over his mouth and quaking with fear--but from this day on you and your tribe shall live upon leaves and grain and the growing things of the fields and forests, but no more shall you enjoy the taste of flesh, or the sweet meat of nuts.”

Sad and ashamed, Brother Woodchuck turned away when Nuk-da-go finished speaking, for this was a hard punishment indeed.

Then Nuk-da-go turned to little Brother Squirrel and said, “Jo-nis-gy-ont, you should have been more watchful of your store of nuts, and not have slept so soundly when robbers were about. But the woods people are sorry for you, and so I shall give you something that will help you to go quickly from tree to tree, and to hasten home in time of danger.”

Then Nuk-da-go spread a web of skin from the fore legs to the back legs of Jo-nis-gy-ont, to form wings when he leaped, so that he could jump swiftly and far.

From that day to this the tribe of Jo-nis-gy-ont has had wings, and this is the Indians’ account of the first flying squirrel.

WHY BROTHER BEAR WEARS A STUMPY TAIL

(Ojibwa)

IN times long past Brother Bear was a famous fisherman. He had a large stock of patience, and great good nature. He was never in a hurry.

But Brother Bear was honest as he was slow, and always ready to believe what others told him, and so he was often imposed upon by the slyer animals--Brother Fox, for instance.

One day as Brother Fox was walking beside a stream, he saw a group of plump little animals slip into the water and disappear from sight.

“Young otters, I do believe!” cried Brother Fox, smacking his lips. “What a meal they would make!” Then he sat down beside the stream and began to think. He did want those otters so badly! He could not think of anything else that would taste half so good. But how to get them! That was the question.

Presently, while he was thinking, along came Brother Bear shuffling down the path with a load of nuts and honey.

“Good morning, Brother Bear,” said Brother Fox. “I see you have a load of excellent food--excellent for you, I mean. My tribe never eats nuts or honey. But perhaps you would not mind adding a bit of tender meat to your load.”

“Meat? No, indeed,” replied Brother Bear. “But where am I to find it?”

“Why,” said Brother Fox with his craftiest smile, “there are some young otters in this stream. I just saw them slip into the water. It seems to me that they would make very good eating for you and your family.”

Brother Bear smacked his lips. “But how am I to get them?” he asked.

“I am no fisherman, as you well know,” said Brother Fox, “but you are a famous fisherman. Why can you not fish for them?”

Brother Bear thought for a moment. “But I have no bait,” he said.

“That is true,” replied Brother Fox, “but I will tell you what to do. Just go out upon that log that lies near the shore and drop your fine long tail into the water. I feel sure the otters will think your tail good bait, and when one comes to nibble it, you can jerk up your tail and just whip the otter over to the shore. I will guard your game for you until you finish fishing.”

“Very good,” agreed Brother Bear, “I will try that.”

So Brother Bear laid down his load of nuts and honey, made his way to the log, and climbed upon it. Then he let his fine long tail drop down into the water--for this was in times long past, you must remember, when the tails of the bears were long--and then he closed his eyes and sat very still.

Presently he felt a nibble at his tail, and he whipped it up, as Brother Fox had told him. Sure enough, a fine young otter went flying across to the bank where Brother Fox lay waiting behind a bush.

“That was pretty well done!” thought Brother Bear, as he dropped his tail into the water again and waited. Presently he felt another nibble, and another otter went flying across to the bank. And soon it was followed by a fish, and then by another fish.

“What a fine dinner I shall take home to my family,” thought Brother Bear to himself, as he began trying to count the number of times his tail had been nibbled, and he had sent something flying across for Brother Fox to guard.

While he was trying to count, North Wind came along and saw him sitting there with his eyes closed, and his tail hanging down in the water.

“I shall have to play a trick on Brother Bear, I do believe!” chuckled North Wind to himself, and he sent a cold breath over the water, so that it became quite still. Then he sent another breath, and a cold, shining crust formed all across its top. After that he sent another breath, and another, and the cold, shining crust grew thicker and thicker.

Presently Brother Bear stopped trying to count and opened his eyes. “Brother Fox,” he called, “there seems to be no more game in the river. I have not felt a nibble for a long time.”

But Brother Fox was just finishing a nice bone, and he called back earnestly, “Oh, be patient, Brother Bear! I am sure you will catch more game if you wait a little longer.”

So Brother Bear closed his eyes again and sat still for several minutes. Then he called, “Brother Fox, I am sure there is no more game in the river. I am coming ashore now.”

There was no answer from Brother Fox, so Brother Bear moved a little on the log, but it was a very little, for his tail felt heavy as lead. “Why,” he exclaimed, “I must have an enormous fish now, my tail is so heavy!” And with that he gave a great jump, intending to carry the game with him to shore, when, snap! his tail broke right off short, for it was frozen fast in the ice. And that was the trick that North Wind had played.