Part 24

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

47. THE CRAB’S EYES.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Up from a hole in the hillside popped Tēdo‘, the woodchuck. From the dark scummy swamp water a big frog lifted its green head.

“How unfortunate!” said the woodchuck, “Some thief must be lurking here.”

“Yes, I too think it strange,” croaked the big frog, “Surely some thief must be hidden here.”

Then in a chorus both poured out their sympathy to the indignant squirrel.

The squirrel chief seated on the oak limb listened attentively and then nodding his head spoke thus to himself. “True, indeed, thieves are not far away. I think this sympathy betokens knaves.”

At night the chief hid in a branch that overhung the stump that the squirrel had pointed out.

When the sun had gone in his western door and darkness had obscured the earth, from a hole in the hillside a brown head cautiously emerged and after peering slyly around the woodchuck crept from his burrow, swung his tail jauntily and trotted down his path to the swamp. A green backed frog pushed his way from a high tufted hummock of grass through the black water of the swamp toward the hillside. But he made no froggish splash, no gurgling trill, no croak but swam in silence. Reaching the bank he sneaked his way up the path to the stump beneath the squirrel’s hemlock where a furry brown bulk was rummaging.

“Kwe!” exclaimed the frog in a startled note.

“Kwe!” came the hollow reply, and Tedo, the woodchuck, withdrew his head to see who had discovered him but finding it to be only Skoak, the frog, he resumed his work of pilfering the squirrel’s store.

“Iis kho, and you too,” he said in a muffled voice as with bulging cheeks he hurried back to his hole.

Now the frog in those days had sharp gnawing teeth like a beaver’s and when he entered the hollow stump he tested the nuts to find what variety he would choose. He had taken hickory nuts before but now chose to take chestnuts.

From the limb over the stump store house a shrill cry sounded.

“Thief found!” came the alarm, and the woodchuck and the frog buried their ears in their booty to shut out the sound.

On the following day the squirrel chief called a council of all the animals, for in those days the squirrel was a famous animal and mightier than a wolf.

“Thieves have been found,” said he. “I call a council to pronounce judgement.”

Every animal from the neighborhood was present except the frog and the woodchuck.

A delegation was sent to examine the houses of these absent two and after some time returned with the most guilty pair ever brought to council for judgement.

Said the squirrel chief. “I saw you steal the squirrel’s nuts, the delegation found them in your houses, therefore, you shall be punished. You, the woodchuck, shall have your tail removed to humble your pride, and you the frog shall have your teeth taken from your mouth that you may not be further tempted to steal another’s store. You the squirrel have been too careless. Henceforth build your storehouse high and in order to protect yourself from offenders that might attack you, I give you this blanket to stretch from leg to leg so that you may skim the air like a leaf.”

A wolf snapped off the woodchuck’s tail and a heron extracted the frog’s teeth and so punished the guilty knaves in sight of all.

So now all these things came to pass; all frogs were afterwards hatched without teeth, all woodchucks had bobbed tails and all the descendents of the squirrel had blankets fastened to their legs and bellies and made a tribe of their own. Moreover, since that time all frogs have been afraid of long-billed birds and all woodchucks are afraid of wolves but some squirrels have blankets and can skim the air like leaves.

49. THE CHICKADEE’S SONG.[44]

Djikdjunkwa was a lonely chickadee. She was very sad and sat on the limb of a tree singing a sorrowful tune. Then she flew to another tree and listened for an answering call.

A wolf passing by heard her crying song and tears came in his eyes. “Let me be your helper?” he asked.

“What kind of food do you eat, good friend?” asked she.

“Raw meat, raw meat,” exclaimed the wolf, seeking to lure the Chickadee to him.

But Chickadee screamed a fluttering note and flew away. Soon again she sang her song.

“I am so lonesome, I am looking for somebody to marry me.”

A crow flying over listened and was moved to help the distressed little bird.

“Oh poor Chickadee,” said Crow. “I would like to marry you.”

“What would you feed my young ones?” asked the Chickadee.

“Ripe dead meat,” answered the crow, whereupon Chickadee flew away and hid herself in a low bush, until the crow had flown away. Then she returned to a tree and sang again:

“Dji-he, dji-he, dji-i-he, I am so lonely that I would like to marry. Dji-he, dji-he, dji-i-he.”

Soon she heard an answering call and saw a bird like herself. He flew toward her and said, “I am the one and we will marry now.”

50. THE BIRD WOMAN.[45]

Sitting mournfully on the edge of her nest was a heart-broken Gonadjodjo, (Chewink). Her husband had been blown away on the breath of a storm and the bird mother was left alone to care for her hungry brood.

All day long she had waited for her mate to return but, alas, he seemed to have forgotten her. Disconsolate, she listened to her children’s cries. When she would fly to find their food they would shiver with cold and when she nestled them under her wings they would scream for bugs and seeds and berries. Something must be done or her callow nestlings would perish. So with a sad heart she began to sing in melancholy note.

Fluttering upon the stump of a fallen tree she sang and an owl within a hollow stub nearby poked out his head and said, “Oh may I not be your helper and care for your nest?”

“Alas!” sighed Gonadjodjo in great distress, “it would never do for my young birds would die when they heard you.”

The owl drew back into his hole and Gonadjodjo sang again.

From another hollow tree came an answering call. “May I not be your helper?” screeched a night hawk.

“Ah, what would you say to comfort them?” said Ganojojo.

“I would say Hai‘´, hai‘´, hai‘´, hai‘´!”

“Oh no, no!” cried Ganodjodjo, “they would scream the worse.”

Flying to an open spot she sang again and a crow poking among the weeds paused and lifted his head as he heard the song. Then, with all compassion he said, “Oh, Ganodjodjo, I would like to help you.”

“Then what would you say to soothe my children?” sighed the unhappy bird.

“Ga! ga! ga! ga!” replied the crow, but Ganodjodjo cried in terror that his harsh hoarse voice was far too hoarse for her little ones, so, the crow croaked and strode on.

Winging her way to the top of a dead tree Ganodjodjo sang again her plaintive song. There was a whirr of wings and a bluejay alighted on the branch beside her.

“I will help you gladly,” said he.

“Well,” said the hapless Ganodjodjo shyly, for she was impressed with the gay bird at her side, “what would you say to my children?”

“In my softest voice I would say, “Di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, skil´lŭm, skil´lŭm!”

The sharp shrill cry of the bluejay made Ganodjodjo’s ears ache and fluttering to the ground half fainting she fell in a mouldering pile of leaves. Plaintively she sang her song again. The leaves on the ground a distance away began to tremble and rustle and then there was a faint sound of “tci´-wii‘, tci´-wii‘!” The disconsolate bird stopped short, and darting to the spot found her own lost mate.

“I have been stunned and bruised,” he said, “and only awoke when you called.”

She plucked him a red berry for medicine and then together they flew to their nest, he with unsteady wings but she in strong and happy flight.

51. THE PARTRIDGE’S SONG.

Now there was a partridge[46] woman who had a large family. She had a house under a big log and her house was hidden by plants. A good many people (animals) tried to find the partridge’s house because they wanted to eat her eggs or her children. Now one morning her children were all asleep and she was running about eating worms and seeds. At this time she smelled an enemy so she was alarmed for her children’s safety. Now then she sang a song to awaken them:

Djut-gan-nio, djut-gan-nio! Ho-sho-ga-he shoda-die-s! Ya-ha-ne sho-da-ges! Ia-ha-ne sho-da-ges!

which meant that the skunk was prowling about and would soon find them if they did not scurry away. After a time they heard their mother’s song and ran into the bushes and she hid them in a safe place.

Now this is the partridge song and it is a good thing to sing it when you see or smell an enemy about a partridge’s house. It is good luck.

IX. TALES OF GIANTS, PYGMIES AND MONSTER BEARS

52. A TALE OF THE DJOGEON OR PYGMIES.

There was a young man named Snow who lived with his parents along the bank of a river. He played about the door yard every day and sometimes swam in the river. When he was very young he obeyed everything his father told him and refrained from going toward the south, where he had been forbidden to venture.

One morning he took his bow and arrows and began to hunt cedar waxwings. It was spring time and there were many of these birds on the tall trees. Just as he was about to shoot, the birds flew to the south and so kept on flying up the bed of a smaller stream, emptying into the river. As Snow chased the birds he noticed that the walls of the stream grew higher and higher until they were very high and close together at the top. It became very dark and Snow became confused and could not tell where to walk, for the rocks began to get more and more jagged. So he sat down on a large stone, feeling very miserable.

Suddenly he heard a stone strike the ground at his feet. He looked about in the gloom and then heard another strike. The next time the stone struck him on the forehead between the eyes and Snow fell over like a dead person.

After a long time he heard voices speaking. The discussion was about him and he heard a voice say, “Now we have him.” He resolved to keep his eyes shut and wait for a good opportunity to escape. Soon he heard foot falls about him; they were very light like a small child’s. Then more came about him and soon he heard the sound of drumming. Presently small voices began to sing and the singing continued for a long time.

Snow understood every word and remembered the songs. Finally he made up his mind that there was nothing malign about the intentions of the beings that moved about him and he opened his eyes.

All about him were pygmies,—little people,—dressed just like Indians. There was a shout when he opened his eyes and he was told to rise and be seated. He could now see clearly by aid of a fire on the slaty bottom of the creek.

At length one of the little people spoke, asking him if he had tobacco. Snow searched through his hunting pouch and found a small quantity which he gave the chief. This caused an expression of great pleasure.

The chief of the little people now spoke. “You have come to our home,” said he. “We sent for you in order that we might teach you our ways. You are to stay here until you have learned our customs.”

Snow lived with the little people and became versed in all their arts. He was told that when the Djogeon were in need of tobacco they would be heard singing, and then the Indians must throw tobacco into the gulches where the sound emanated. Sometimes drumming would be heard instead of singing, and this also indicated the need of tobacco. The little people would also be pleased to have finger nail parings in order to give them certain human powers. Snow was told about the different tribes of Djogeon and about the stone throwers. Some Djogeon had power over the fruits and plants and even the health of people. They had some valuable hunting charms which they would bestow if man would guard their potency by appropriate ceremonies. All this Snow learned.

The time came for him to depart, and the Djogeon gave him presents, telling him their purposes and magical attributes. Snow now departed and returned to his people, who had grown very old. They scarcely knew him because of his long absence, which seemed to him only a few days.

Snow now called together his friends and taught them the ceremonies and the songs of the little people, and these ceremonies have come down to this day. They must be performed in the dark.

After that time the people began to see Djogeon in various places, but they felt safe, knowing how to appease them.

53. BEYOND-THE-RAPIDS AND THE STONE GIANT.

Skŭn´niwŭndi[47] was a great fighter. His name as a warrior was famous everywhere and he was called the greatest war chief in the world. Skŭnniwŭn´di was a great name.

Skŭnniwŭn´di was passing along the bank of a river one time when he heard his name called out, “Kwe Skŭnniwŭn´di,” some voice was saying. “You are the best fighter in the world,—you are the best fighter in the world.”

Skŭnniwŭn´di looked up and saw across the river a terrible Genonsgwä, a stonish giant, a female giant. So he answered, “Kwe! What do you want?”

“I want to fight with you,” she answered.

Skŭnniwŭn´di never had fought with a stonish giant but he answered, “All right, come over!”

Now at this place on the river there was a deep hole above the ripples and there was a ford at the ripples. Now the Genonsgwä walked into the hole and was a long time crossing over under the water. Skŭnniwŭn´di thought he would cross over on the ripples and he was in a great hurry and forgot his tomahawk. Now he stood on the opposite side when the stonish woman appeared.

“Kwe!” she cried, “where are you?”

“Right where I was before,” answered Skŭnniwŭn´di.

“That is strange,” she replied, “for here is your little weapon.”

“Oh I was passing this place some time ago and dropped it,” he explained.

“Oh what a tiny thing to fight with,” she laughed. “How do you ever expect to fight with it!” She licked it with her tongue and then said, “It is no good, see me smash it on this rock!” Then she hit the rock and to her surprise the rock split asunder.[48] She did not realize that it was her saliva that made the tomahawk strong medicine.

“Ho ho!” she exclaimed, “are all your weapons so effective on stone?”

“That little weapon is nothing,” said Skŭnniwŭn´di, “I have a knife here that will cut stone by drawing it over it.”

“Let me see it,” begged the giantess.

The man threw it across the stream. The stonish woman picked it up and drew it across her lips moistening it with her saliva. This is the custom of the giants when they wish to use anything and they do not know that it makes power. Taking the knife she drew it over a flint and the flint was cut. She rubbed its edge on her coat and it was slit. Then she threw back the axe and the knife now possessed with a wonderful power and Skŭnniwŭn´di exultant asked her to hurry and commence the fight.

“No,” said the giantess, “Your medicine is too strong. You are truly the greatest warrior of the earth. I will go.”

When the stone giantess left Skŭnniwŭn´di she ran out to a river and followed it as it flowed until she came to a house where a man, woman and child were sitting around a fire inside. She unfastened her stone coat and entered. After greeting them she said, “I am fleeing from my husband who seeks to kill me. Only be my friends and I will give you something.” The people were kind and told her that she could stay, but even so, they were afraid of her. So she sat and swung the hammock in which lay the baby daughter. She began to sing without realizing that her song would offend the parents:

“Oh what a tender morsel, How I would love to eat you!”

The father remonstrated and implored her not to destroy their child. Then the giantess was sorry and asked forgiveness.

The next morning she went out into the woods and killed two deer and a bear and brought them back for her hosts.

After a number of days she said, “I hear my husband coming. You can save me. Cut six basswood poles as tall as a man and when we fight and he throws me down thrust them one by one into his back and you will kill him. Then I will repay you.”

The great stone giant came making a roar like a whirlwind, “Who-whoa-hoh-hoh-hoh!” and the giantess whispered, “Be ready and do your best. Do not be afraid.”

The man hid behind the big rocks and saw the female giant and her husband rush upon each other. They fought very hard and the stone broke when they hurled each other against them.

“The world is small, you could not escape me,” the giant thundered as he flung his wife upon her back and made ready to kill her. Then the man ran out and thrust the sharpened poles into the giant and they came out of his mouth.

“Oh, oh!” he cried, “I am killed, I am gone!” and he fell over dead.

The giantess was glad and rewarded her friend with a small patch of skin. “This skin is covered with the hairs of all animals,” she said, “and when you wish to kill a beast remove a hair and blow it on the wind. The animal will appear and you will be able to kill it.”

So the giantess went away and the man kept his great game charm and was thought a most successful hunter, and no one knew how he got animals when no one else could; but one day a boy saw him blow a hair and a beaver came. Then he hit it with a club and chopped off its tail.

54. THE ANIMATED FINGER.[49]

There was a boy named Skunniwundi who was a hunter. It was a time when there was a great famine and game was very scarce. The people were starving. Skunniwundi thought he would find out why there was no game. Long he had been warned not to go north, but north he went.

When he had traveled a long ways he saw something moving in the rocks ahead of him. Concealing himself in a hole he watched. Soon he saw two stone coated women approaching. They were looking for food. Then did Skunniwundi know that the stone giants were eating all the game, thus making the famine.

After a while Skunniwundi noticed that one of the women took something out of a bag and placed it on the palm of her hand. As she did this she exclaimed, “Ghaah!” and commenced to walk directly toward him. At this he began to run toward a creek hoping to cross it but they were too swift for him. Hoping to escape he ran into a clump of tall trees and climbed one. The women followed his tracks to the tree and then began to look around for him. Not once did they think of looking up, for their necks would not bend. If they tried they would crack off. Failing to find him one of the giant women put her hand in her pocket and took out something again which she placed on the palm of her hand. Skunniwundi looked down and saw that it was a human finger and that it was standing up pointing at him. “Where is he?” asked the woman and the finger wriggled and pointed. This puzzled the women and Skunniwundi felt that he was secure. Soon he began to think that this finger would be a helpful possession and began to consider how he could obtain it.

The women continued at the foot of the tree and finally discovered Skunniwundi’s hatchet and arrows which he had left on the ground at the foot of the tree. One woman picked them up and began to lick them, smelling for blood.

Skunniwundi now saw that all was lost unless he hastened. So with a quick slide he came down the tree and seized the finger. With a bound he jumped into the water, but as he heard the giant women follow him he turned back under water and stood on the spot where he had dived off. The women came out of the water on the opposite shore and were greatly surprised. So they plunged in the water after him and when their heads were under Skunniwundi swam across and stood on the opposite shore. He could swim very fast now that he had the finger. When the women came out of the water they saw him where they had stood but a moment before, and were again surprised. They plunged in again and this time Skunniwundi ran very rapidly to escape them. Soon he heard the women crying, “Oh give us back the finger. We promise not to eat you.”

Skunniwundi now was filled with power and kept asking the finger where the giant women were, and by going in another direction he escaped them until he came near to his own settlement, which lay across a stream of very cold water. In he plunged and swam across.