Part 2

Mewanee reached the river and quickly pulled his canoe to the edge. It was very light and Mewanee pulled it along quite easily.

How lightly he jumped into it and how swiftly he paddled down the river!

He knew where the beavers built their lodges not far down the stream.

He should love to trap a beaver, but he knew that he must wait until winter for that. He felt sure that his father would let him go beaver hunting with him when the snow came.

Then he would wear his snowshoes and glide swiftly over the surface of the snow.

For several hours Mewanee paddled on the beautiful, peaceful river. He didn’t stop for rest, and he had no food with him.

Indian boys were taught that they must endure hunger and fatigue, so Mewanee was not unhappy.

How quiet he was and how eagerly he looked first this way, then that!

Suddenly he crouched down in the bottom of the canoe. His eyes were just on a level with the top edge of the side. His arms were extended to shoot.

He was very quiet, for the flock of wild geese which he saw in the distance would scatter if he made the least noise.

How gracefully they glided over the surface of the water! Soon they would be very near Mewanee.

He awaited their coming. He did not stir for he did not wish to disturb them.

Now up he sprang, rested on one knee, and took careful aim.

First one arrow, then another and another skimmed through the air.

Each arrow had been carefully aimed, and Mewanee had three fine geese to take home.

He felt that he had been able to help in providing food for the friendly Indian tribe.

On his way home Mewanee stopped to call to the squirrels as they ran to and fro on the river’s edge.

He talked to them as he threw them acorns which he found in his quiver bag. He stopped to listen to the birds as they sang to him from their nests in the trees.

Homeward he paddled. It was getting late, but Mewanee was not afraid.

It was twilight when Mewanee pulled his canoe up on the river bank and walked toward his wigwam.

He was very happy indeed, that he had the three fine geese which he carried over his shoulder.

Mewanee’s mother was waiting for him, and baby brother smiled a welcome.

Little brother was still in his linden cradle.

I am sure an American child would feel quite unhappy if he were bound in a cradle so much of the time, but Indian babies became quite accustomed to it. They must learn to endure pain and suffering. That was their first lesson.

As soon as baby brother was old enough he would be allowed to run about and care for himself.

Mewanee did not say that he was hungry but he was glad to eat the cakes and maple syrup which his mother gave him.

She was pleased when she saw the wild geese which Mewanee had shot.

While Mewanee was eating his supper the men came home from the hunt. They had decided to return to the village for the night and set out again early the next morning.

Mewanee rushed out of the wigwam to see what they had brought as a result of the hunt.

He wished also to show the geese which he had shot. He was most anxious that his father, the chief, should see them.

Mewanee smiled when his father said, “My brave son!”

After supper the Indians sat about smoking.

They were silent and thoughtful.

VII IN THE FOREST

This Indian village was a very crowded one that night.

The squaws and children slept in the wigwams, while the Indian men stretched themselves on the ground outside.

A few kept watch, for fear the enemy might return and destroy their village.

The tiny stars twinkled brightly from the heavens.

The good moon sent her protecting light upon the village.

All was very peaceful, except for the hoots of the owls which sounded through the forest.

The enemy did not return that night.

Early in the morning the Indians awoke after a good rest. They felt that they must go out again in search of more food.

Some carried long spears with them, so that they might spear the fish. Others went into the forest carrying their bows and quiver bags with them.

The women, with their babies on their backs, started out to gather poles for new wigwams. They must lose no time for winter was at hand, and wigwams must be built before snow came.

While the women were busy and the men hunting and fishing, the children gathered for games. Some of the boys ran to the river. What sport they had diving and swimming!

Others jumped on their ponies and had a fine time racing.

How they did dash along, so fearless and brave!

Now one was ahead, now another!

How they laughed and shouted as they rode!

The ponies seemed to enjoy the race as much as the boys.

Some of the older boys were enjoying a game of javelins which they were playing.

They had lined up on either side of the field.

One side had bone rings, and the other side long javelins.

Now one player threw a ring, and the opposite player tried to catch it on his javelin.

Oh! the first player caught the other’s ring.

Now the next two players tried and one caught the other’s ring.

The third player didn’t take good aim and lost his partner’s ring. He must give his javelin to the opposite side.

After all on one side have had a chance to catch the rings, the opposite side will have a chance.

When both sides have tried, the side having more javelins will win the game.

The boys had great fun as they played. They laughed and shouted and danced for joy.

Mewanee grew tired of watching and wandered off into the forest. No one noticed his going.

He had his bow and arrow with him.

He started off in the direction the hunters had taken earlier in the day.

On and on he ran through the forest. He stopped to talk with the chipmunks or to feed the squirrels as they leaped about the ground.

The birds flitted about him in great glee. They twittered and chirped and flew about his shoulders.

Mewanee was very happy. He had no thought of fear. He loved the birds and the wild animals of the forest and enjoyed being with them.

On and on he walked, into the dense forest.

As evening drew near he grew tired. He lay down under a tall pine tree and was soon fast asleep.

He had been sleeping very soundly, when suddenly he was awakened by a fierce howl.

He jumped up and looked about him!

Already he could see the flaming eyes of a wolf not far off.

Quickly he sprang to the pine tree and with one bound, started to climb it.

Before even the swiftest wolf could reach him he was way up on the topmost bough.

Poor Mewanee was badly frightened now. As he looked below he saw the eyes of the hungry wolf glaring at him through the darkness.

How bright and terrible his eyes looked! Mewanee had never before been so near a wolf.

The silvery moon looked down upon the little fellow, seeming to say, “Do not fear. I will care for you.”

The soft wind whispered to Mewanee and told him to have no fear. Still Mewanee was not comforted.

“O Great Spirit,” cried Mewanee, “protect me from this terrible wolf.”

Mewanee felt for his quiver bag. He had forgotten that he had laid his bow and arrows under the tree.

He had no way of helping himself. He thought of his father and mother and his dear little baby brother.

He knew that while he remained in the tree, the wolf could not reach him.

He wondered if his father and the other Indians would return this way.

He did not know what to do. He did not dare to sleep for the wolf still kept watch. Now and then the wolf gave a hungry howl and looked fiercely at the little Indian boy sitting in the tree-top.

Hour after hour passed.

It was morning, and Father Sun was smiling at him with his kindly light. Mewanee loved the great bright sun and talked to him as if he were his father.

The Indian people believed that the wind, sun, moon, stars and thunder were good spirits which helped them care for themselves and their lands.

Mewanee felt sure that if he were patient, help would come, but he was so very tired that he did not know how much longer he could stay crouched in the tree-top.

A wild blackbird sang to him from a branch near by. He said, “Fear not, Mewanee; help is near at hand.”

Mewanee tried to be brave.

Suddenly all grew very dark within the forest.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Flash upon flash of lightning shot through the sky.

Mewanee crouched lower and lower.

He felt sure that the Great Spirit had answered his prayer by sending the Thunder God to him.

As peal after peal resounded through the forest and flash upon flash burst upon him, the wolf gave a deep, angry howl. Then he turned and fled into the dense forest.

Mewanee heard him go and raised his arms in prayer.

Soon the sky became clear and the sun shone once more.

Mewanee slowly and cautiously climbed down the tree. He was stiff and cold and hungry.

He threw himself face downward upon the ground and gave thanks to the Great Spirit for his care.

He picked up his bow and quiver bag and ran, as fast as he could, toward the opening. On and on he ran until he came to the edge of the forest, when he could see his village.

His father and the other Indians had returned from the hunt. He saw them going to and fro seeming troubled and anxious. The chief, his father, sat watching and waiting.

Mewanee ran as fast as his tired legs would let him.

“Father, father!” he shouted.

The chief jumped up and clasped his son in his arms.

All of the Indians rushed toward them asking many questions.

When they heard the story they sang words of praise.

The chief led his son to the wigwam and bade the mother give him food and drink.

“Rest well, my son,” he said, “for you have indeed been a brave boy. I feel sure that you will be a fit warrior to take my place.

“We have had a fine hunt; you have returned unharmed; we can be at peace once more.”

VIII THE SACRIFICE

It was evening, a beautiful starlight evening.

The tiny stars watched over these Indian people as they slept.

They were tired with the long chase, though they were happy with the thought of the fine deer and buffalo which they had killed.

The Indians slept soundly all of the night. When they awoke the sun was saying a bright “Good morning.”

They arose, stretched themselves and ran to the river for a swim.

The women were already busy getting the skins from the animals.

Some of the women stretched the skins in the sun to dry, while others made baskets.

The Indian people dried meat in the sun and then powdered it. They stored the powdered meat in baskets and jars for the winter.

The men spent nearly every day in hunting and fishing.

Mewanee came from his wigwam looking very unhappy and sad.

Baby brother was very ill.

His mother tried to soothe her baby boy with a low, sweet lullaby, and Mewanee tried to quiet him by a soft chant. But baby brother would not be quieted.

Mother gave him a drink made from wild roots, but this did not seem to help the little fellow.

As the day passed, his fever grew stronger and fiercer.

When the chief came home and saw how sick baby brother was he said, “The medicine man must be sent for. He will cure my son.”

The medicine man was thought to be very wise. The Indian people believed that he could cure all sickness.

They thought that the power to cure was given to the medicine man by the Great Spirit.

So the medicine man was sent for.

While they were waiting, the Indians built a fire and gathered about it.

They sang a mournful song to the Great Spirit. As they sang they made strange gestures with their arms.

They thought that the chief’s son was ill because they had in some way offended the Great Spirit.

They hoped in this way to appease the wrath of the Great Spirit.

Suddenly a queer looking old man rushed into the circle. He made all sorts of strange noises and jumped up and down as he shouted.

This was the medicine man for whom the chief had sent.

He motioned the chief to bring his little son to him.

Then he ordered a jar filled with water to be placed on the fire. Now the medicine man threw some herbs into the jar of water.

He danced and sang as he stirred the mixture with a carved bone which he carried in a skin bag.

This bone was supposed to have a certain charm.

The chief came from the wigwam, carrying baby brother in his linden cradle. As he came near, the medicine man raised his arms above the baby, muttering low noises. Baby brother stopped crying and lay very quiet.

All the other Indians stretched themselves face downward on the ground, praying to the Great Spirit that the chief’s baby might soon be well.

The medicine man gave baby brother a drink of the warm herbs. He used a queerly shaped wooden spoon which was carved with figures of wild animals.

Then bending low over the baby he whispered a soft song. His low tones soon quieted the little boy. The baby’s eyelids drooped. In a moment he had fallen fast asleep.

Mother came out and carried her little boy into the wigwam.

Then the medicine man spoke to the chief. He said that his son would not be well until a sacrifice of a red deer should be made.

This sacrifice would ward off the anger of the Great Spirit.

Fortunately the Indian people had killed a red deer in their last hunt. So the deer was brought toward the medicine man.

First the medicine man said a prayer over the body of the deer.

All joined in with low chants.

Finally the deer was carefully placed upon the fire amid the low murmuring of all present.

Then the medicine man walked slowly away.

Mewanee had been waiting in the wigwam. He was very, very sad.

When his father told him that the medicine man had promised that baby brother would soon be well, he smiled and looked glad again.

Before another sunrise the little fellow was much better, and his mother sang a song of praise to the Great Spirit.

IX THE FAST

There was a new moon now and Mewanee was twelve years old. He would soon go hunting and fishing with his father.

Some day he would be chief of his tribe, but not before he had proved his power of endurance. He must prove this power by a long fast.

On this night when the new moon was looking down upon them, the Indians had collected about the fire.

Mewanee was lying face downward upon the ground very near the fire.

The chief, his father, was standing above him with arms outstretched as he said these words:

“My son, the time is at hand when you must go into the forest for your long fast. You must prove to your people that you are brave and strong and ready to try the test of fasting.

“My son must show that he is strong and courageous. You need have no fear, for the Great Spirit will protect you.”

Then the Indians danced around Mewanee singing in a solemn chant.

This was their way of saying, “Be brave. O chief’s son, be brave!”

Then the chief led his son into the dense forest and left him lying upon the ground.

Mewanee had no fear, for was he not the chief’s son?

Each day his father went to him with words of cheer.

Though Mewanee’s heart was filled with courage, each morning found him paler and weaker. Yet not once did he complain nor did he ask for food or drink.

The great chief’s heart was filled with pity when on the tenth morning he saw his son stretched pale and still at his feet.

“Fail not, my son,” said the chief. “Only two days more, and you will go home in the honor and glory of the brave.

“The Great Spirit will continue to protect you, and you will go home to your people, the victor of a great battle.”

On the twelfth day the chief went into the forest having food and drink for Mewanee.

Not a word was said. The chief looked at his son with the light of gladness in his eyes. The fast was ended and his son was the victor.

With food and drink, strength returned and Mewanee was able to walk with his father to his people.

As he walked through the forest the birds seemed to sing a song of praise. The trees seemed to nod to him and to wish him well.

His people were awaiting his return and had prepared a feast of welcome for him.

As Mewanee entered the village, by the side of his father, all were singing and dancing. Some of the men rushed toward Mewanee and led him into the center of the merrymaking.

Then there was singing, dancing, and feasting. These Indian people were glad to honor the youth who would some day be their chief.

X THE NEW HOME

It was fall before the homes of the friendly tribe were done. All had been busy getting ready for the winter. Now the wigwams were finished.

Mewanee’s father had divided his dried meat and corn with this friendly tribe. He had also given them powdered tobacco. The Indian men would be unhappy without tobacco for their long pipes.

The friendly tribe was very thankful to Mewanee’s father for his kindness to them.

They were collected around the camp fire that night. The children and women were in the wigwams. Only the men could take part in council.

All was hushed and silent, when suddenly the chief of the friendly tribe arose and all of the other Indians of this tribe followed their chief.

They danced in and out, and up and down, making queer sounds. This was their way of saying, “Thank you, O Indian Chief.”

Then they prayed words of thankfulness.

Getting up slowly, they took their places in the circle and pulled their long pipes from their belts.

They lighted their pipes by catching sparks from the pipes of the other Indian men, who had been smoking during the dance.

They were very silent, and sat smoking their pipes until the fire died out.

Then slowly they arose and wandered toward their wigwams. The night was very cold now so all must take shelter within the wigwams.

Early next morning the village was astir for it was the day of parting.

Children were running hither and thither. The Indian women were busy collecting the things which they were to take with them.

Baby brother was toddling along, his hand in Mewanee’s. He was able to walk now, and so need not be carried about in his cradle. He smiled at Mewanee and looked very wise, as if he knew what it was all about.

Just as they were about to start, Mewanee’s father came out leading a beautiful gray horse.

He approached the chief of the friendly tribe and motioned him to mount the horse.

This the chief did.

Then with the chief riding at the head, the friendly tribe started toward their home.

Father Sun sent his kindly light upon these people as they wandered homeward.

Mewanee watched until he could see the friendly tribe no longer. He knew they would be glad to be home again.

Then he wandered slowly toward the beautiful river, happy in the thought that he was the chief’s son.

He stretched himself upon the river’s bank thinking of the time when he should become chief of his tribe.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.