Chapter 4

One of little Luke's best friends among the wild folk was A-bal-ka the Chipmunk. He was a dainty little fellow about five inches long, with a tail of the same length. His coat was of a yellowish-brown color, with black stripes running down his back. This fine, striped coat made him look much prettier than his cousin Mee-ko the Red Squirrel.

He was a clean, jolly, little chap, and very fond of singing, though he knew but two songs. One was a sharp chip, chip, chip, which he would sometimes keep up for a long time. At a distance it sounded like the call note of some bird. The other was a cuck, cuck, cuck, which sounded much like the song of the Cuckoo. A curious thing about this song was that one could scarcely tell where it came from. Little Luke was often deceived by it. Sometimes when it sounded as if A-bal-ka was near by, he was really a good way off, and when it sounded as if he were a good way off, he was really close by.

Beside these songs, A-bal-ka had an odd way of saying chip, chur-r-r-r-r, when he was scared. This meant, "I am not afraid of you," and he never said it till he was safe in some hole where no one could get at him.

A-bal-ka never harmed any one, nor did he scold and steal like Mee-ko the Red Squirrel. Yet he had many foes. Ko-ko-ka the Owl, Ak-sip the Hawk, Kee-wuk the Fox, Kag-ax the Weasel, Ko-sa the Mink, and A-tos-sa the Snake were always ready to pounce upon him at sight and make a meal of him. Even Mee-ko was not to be trusted. Sometimes he would chase A-bal-ka and rob him of the nuts which he was carrying to his storehouse. He would have robbed the storehouse, too, if he could have got into it. But A-bal-ka's door was too small, and his hallways too narrow for Mee-ko.

Little Luke knew all about A-bal-ka's underground dwelling. The way he found out was this: Uncle Mark and Sam the hired man were digging stones on the hillside in the edge of the woods for the foundations of a new barn. While at this work, they uncovered the home of one of A-bal-ka's brothers. It was made up of a long, winding passageway, ending in a sleeping chamber, near which was a storehouse, and in this storehouse there was a large quantity of nuts. These nuts were all good ones. The greater part of them were little, three-cornered beech nuts, which the squirrels like better than anything else. In all there was as much as half a bushel of nuts, enough to last a chipmunk all winter. The bedroom was a neat, little, round chamber, nicely filled with leaves, grass, and moss. In such a house as this, with its store of nuts, a chipmunk could live snug and warm all winter long and come out sleek and fat in the spring.

Because of A-bal-ka's many enemies, he was very watchful. He seldom went far from home, and when he did venture to go abroad, he nearly always followed the same path. At first it ran along under the side of a fallen log. From the end of this, a few quick leaps carried him to a brush pile. A jump or two more brought him to a rock and yet a few more to a stone fence. Once there, he felt safe. At the least alarm, he could run into a hole too small for any of his foes except, perhaps, A-tos-sa, whom he dreaded more than any of the others.

All along the stone fence stood nut trees,--oaks, hazels, walnuts, beeches, and others. And at one end was a cornfield.

This made it very handy for A-bal-ka. He could gather the nuts which fell upon the stone fence, and when he went for corn, he could keep to the fence and thus avoid his enemies. Early in the fall he began to fill his storehouse. To and fro he went along the fence with his cheek-pouches full of corn and nuts.

Little Luke often amused himself by watching him. He would pick up the nuts with his paws and put them into his cheek-pouches, and it was amazing how many they would hold. When he started for home, his cheeks sometimes looked as if he had a very severe case of the mumps.

One day in the autumn little Luke found out a queer thing about A-bal-ka. He was going up the trail with Old John. A-bal-ka started to cross the trail, but seeing the old Indian he became scared and ran up a tree. This was a thing which he seldom did; never unless he was obliged to, to escape from his enemies. He is a ground squirrel, and no tree climber, like his cousins the Red and the Gray Squirrels.

"Now," said Old John, "I'll show you something." So he got a stout stick and began to tap the tree. Tap, tap, tap, tap, as if he were beating time to music. This tapping had a strange effect upon A-bal-ka. At first he was greatly excited and tried to run farther up the tree. Soon he gave this up, turned around, and began to come down head foremost. He would lift his little feet and shake them as if something hurt them. Lower and lower he came, until the old Indian could easily have killed him with his club or caught him with his hand. He did neither. He just laughed and threw away his stick.

"There," said he, "that's the way to make a chipmunk come down out of a tree. They'll always do it, if you tap long enough,"

"That's queer," said the little boy; "what makes them come down? Why don't they run farther up?"

"I don't know," said Old John, "perhaps they think you are trying to cut down the tree, or maybe the jar hurts their feet. The Red Men used to think that there was some kind of a magic charm about it."

"I am glad you didn't hurt him," said the little boy, as they went on up the trail.

"Hurt him!" exclaimed the old Indian, "why, don't you know that no Indian ever hurts a chipmunk?"

"Why is that?" asked the little boy.

"It's an old, old story," said Old John, "but come, let us sit down on this log, and I'll tell it to you."

So when they were both comfortably seated, the old Indian began the tale which you will find in the next chapter.

XV. HOW A-BAL-KA GOT HIS BLACK STRIPES

"In the old days before winter had come into the land, the beasts and the birds, the fishes, and even the insects, all had one language. They could speak the speech of the Red Men and they all lived together in peace and friendship.

"In those days, there was no killing and no war. But after winter had come upon the land, the Red Men learned to kill the wild folk and to use their flesh for food and their skins for wigwams and for clothing.

"At first this was bad enough, but after men had learned to use bows and arrows, spears, knives, and hooks, it was still worse. They became more and more cruel. They delighted to slaughter even creatures for which they had no use. Out of heedlessness, they trod upon the worms and the frogs, and killed them without caring for the pain and suffering which they caused. At last the animals made up their minds to try to find out some means to check the slaughter of the wild kindreds.

"The bears were the first to meet in council. After much talk, they decided to begin war at once against the human race.

"'What weapons shall we use against them?' asked one of the bears.

"'Why,' answered another, 'the same that they use; bows and arrows, of course.'

"'But how shall we make them?' asked one bear.

"'Oh, that is easy,' said another. 'I'll show you how to do it. You know I lived for a long time in one of their villages.'

"So this bear got a piece of ashwood and a string, some straight reeds and pieces of flint, and made a bow and some arrows.

"The White Bear, who was chief of the council, stepped out to make a trial of the bow. He pulled back the string and let the arrow fly, but his long claws caught the string and spoiled the shot.

"Seeing this, one of the bears proposed to cut off his own claws and make another trial. This was done and the arrow went straight to the mark.

"Now all the bears were ready to cut off their claws that they might practice with the bow and arrow. But their chief, the old White Bear, was wise.

"'No,' said he, 'let us not cut off our claws. If we do, we shall not be able to climb trees or to tear our food to pieces, and we shall all starve together. It is better to trust to the teeth and claws that the Master of Life has given us. Man's weapons are not for us.'

"All the bears agreed to this, and the council broke up without any plan for dealing with their cruel enemies.

* * * * *

"The deer were the next to hold a council. Each one had some story to tell about the cruelty of men. Each one had lost his father or his mother, his wife or his children, his brother or his sister.

"After much talk, their chief, Little Deer, spoke. 'It is a law,' said he, 'among all the kindreds that each may kill to supply his needs. The men folk need our flesh to eat and our skins for clothing.

"'But there is another law. It is that no one shall kill cruelly or needlessly. Upon such as do so, let us send pains and aches. Let us make their joints swell and become stiff, so that they cannot follow us and kill us. Besides, let us make another law, that when a hunter kills one of the deer family, he must pray to the spirit of the deer for pardon. If he has killed to supply his needs and without cruelty, he shall be pardoned. If not, he shall become a helpless cripple.'

"The deer people all agreed to this and sent word to the nearest Indian village, to tell the hunters about the new law.

"Since that time every Indian hunter is careful to pray to the spirit of the deer which he has killed.

* * * * *

"Next the fishes and the snakes held a council. Each one had complaints to make against the cruelty of men. After much talk, A-tos-sa the chief of the snakes spoke.

"'We of the snake kindred,' said he, 'will afflict men with diseases of their nerves. They shall tremble and shake when there is nothing to be afraid of. And when they draw the bow-strings, their arrows shall go wide of the mark by reason of the unsteadiness of eye and hand. And we will send upon them in their sleep evil dreams. The ghosts of the snakes which they have needlessly killed shall twine about them, with fearful fangs, ready to pierce their flesh, and the cold sweat of terror shall ooze from their skin, and they shall awake with cries and tremblings.'

"After him the chief of the fishes spoke.

"'We,' said he, 'will afflict men with diseases of the stomach. In their sleep, they shall dream of eating raw or decayed fish and their appetites shall pass from them.'

"These plans were agreed upon, and the council of the fishes and the snakes broke up.

* * * * *

"After this, the smaller animals, the birds and the insects, gathered themselves together in a common council. Here, too, all were bitter against the useless cruelty of mankind. After all complaints had been heard, Am-wee-soo the Wasp addressed the council.

"'Each creature,' said he, 'has the right to live. Our cruel enemies deprive us of our lives which they cannot restore. It is just that they shall be punished. We, the wasps, the bees, and the flies, will send upon men boils and wasting fevers, which shall sap their strength and bring them to their graves.'

"'And we,' said Da-hin-da the Bull Frog, 'will afflict men with colds and coughs, which shall make them weak and short of breath.'

"'We, the birds,' declared E-kes-ke the Blue Jay, 'will afflict them with sores and diseases of the skin.'

"And so it went on. Each of the tribes of the wild folk agreed to afflict mankind with some sort of sickness.

"A-bal-ka the Chipmunk alone spoke in favor of the men. But he had hardly said ten words, before the others became so enraged that they fell upon and drove him from the council. He barely escaped with his life.

"And as it was, Up-wee-kis the Lynx fastened his claws on A-bal-ka's neck and tore four gashes the length of his back. You can see the marks to this day. That is the way the chipmunk got his black stripes."

XVI. HOW A-BAL-KA THE CHIPMUNK HELPED MEN

"The wounded ground squirrel hid himself in his den beneath the roots of a great oak, where his enemies could not get at him. There he remained until the other creatures had departed and his wounds were somewhat healed.

"When he was well enough to get about again, he visited the villages of the Red Men. Everywhere he went, he found sickness and death. The kind-hearted chipmunk was sorry to see so much suffering and sorrow. So he revealed the secret plans which had been formed in the councils of the wild folk.

"Men now knew what was the cause of their troubles. But this knowledge did little good, since it did not heal their diseases or save them from death. For a time, it seemed as if the human race would be entirely destroyed.

"In their despair, they appealed to their kind friend A-bal-ka the little ground squirrel. 'What shall we do?' they wailed. 'Cannot you, who are so kind of heart and so wise, help us?'

"'I will do my best,' he replied, 'but I must take time to think about it.' After turning the matter over in his mind carefully, he went about among the plants and trees and told them what had been done by the wild folk against their friends the men.

"'Cannot you,' said he, 'do something to heal their diseases and save the human race from destruction?'

"After much coming and going on the part of A-bal-ka the ground squirrel, and much talking and thinking on the part of the plants and trees, it was resolved that they, too, should hold councils, to see what they could do toward checking and overcoming the evils which had befallen the human race.

* * * * *

"First the big trees of the forest and the shrubs held their council. They talked over the matter and agreed that each should do all in its power to furnish remedies to cure the diseases which the wild folk had inflicted upon men.

"'We,' said the pine, the spruce, and the balsam trees, 'will give our gums and our balsam.' The slippery elm offered its bark; the sassafras its roots; the cherry tree its bark and its berries. One after another, the other trees and shrubs offered their berries, their bark, their leaves, or their roots as medicine to heal the diseases of men.

* * * * *

"Next the plants held their council and resolved to come to the aid of men in their distress. 'I,' said the ginseng plant, 'will give my roots to make a healing drink. It shall be good for headaches and for cramps and for many other kinds of pains and aches.'

"'And I,' said the snake-root, 'will give my roots also for a healing drink. It shall cure fevers and coughs and many other diseases.'

"And so it went on. The silkweed, the skull-cap, catnip, boneset, the peppermint, wild ginger, wintergreen, and scores of other plants, all gladly offered their roots, their berries, or their leaves.

* * * * *

"Their number was so great that the little striped squirrel, who had attended both councils, was scarcely able to remember them all.

"After the councils were over, he went about among the villages of the Red Men and told them what the trees and the plants had said. They at once began to gather and prepare the medicines which they needed to cure the different diseases from which they suffered. And from this time, on account of the use of these medicines, they were sometimes able to heal their diseases and save many of their people from death.

"This is the story of how diseases came upon men and medicines to cure them were found.

"The Red Men were grateful to the little ground squirrel for the help he had given them, and loved him more than any other of the wild folk, and to this day no Indian boy will injure a chipmunk."

XVII. LITTLE LUKE AND MEE-KO THE RED SQUIRREL

One day as little Luke was sitting on a fallen log in the woods, Mee-ko the Red Squirrel ran out on a branch over his head. There he sat up on his hind legs and began to chatter and scold and cough.

He remembered the day when the little boy had stoned him away from the nest of O-pee-chee the Robin. Ever since that time he had never missed a chance of saying bad words at him. But the little boy didn't mind Mee-ko's scolding; he only laughed at him for his bad temper and spitefulness.

"Mee-ko," said he, "what makes you cough so? Tell me. I think there must be a story about it."

"Well, suppose there is?" snapped Mee-ko. "I wouldn't tell you anyway. A Man Cub has no business to know the animal talk. I did my best to keep you from touching the Magic Speech Flower. I hate you! I hate you! I wish I were as big as my forefathers were, I'd drive you out of the woods!"

"Come, now, Mee-ko," replied the boy, "don't be so spiteful. I haven't done you any harm. I stopped you from stealing Mother O-pee-chee's eggs, but you had no business with the eggs anyway. How would you like to have some one eat up your young ones? Let bygones be bygones and tell me about your forefathers."

"I'll not be friends with you on any terms," replied Mee-ko. "I wish you'd stay about the farmhouse where you belong. You've no business sneaking about in the woods, disturbing us wood folk, and spying on us and tattling about us. Go away. You know too much now."

"Yes, no doubt he knows too much about you. We all do," said a voice. Little Luke looked up and there was old Ko-ko-ka the Big Owl, sitting in a hole in a tree. "As for spying and tattling," Ko-ko-ka went on, "you are the worst of all the wild folk. It runs in your blood. The Mee-ko family have always been meddlers. It was the first of your tribe, as all the wood folk know, who, with his tattling; tongue, set Mal-sum the Wicked Wolf trying to kill Gloos-cap the Good. Your foreparents were thieves and murderers too; and you take after them.

"The Master of Life has formed some of us so that we must kill to live and for us to kill is lawful. It is not so with you. You were made to live on seeds and nuts, yet Kag-ax the Weasel, whom we all hate, is scarcely more bloodthirsty than you are. And you are a coward to boot. You haven't the courage to fight and you kill for pleasure and by stealth."

Mee-ko started to talk back at Ko-ko-ka, but the big owl snapped his beak angrily and rustled his wings. Mee-ko saw and heard and he didn't wait to finish his remarks. He scurried along the branch, took a flying leap to the next tree, and disappeared.

"Let him go. His room is better than his company," remarked Ko-ko-ka.

"That's so," said little Luke, "I never did like him much anyway. But tell me, what did he mean about his forefathers?"

"Well," answered Ko-ko-ka, "I've had a good nap and haven't anything to do till sundown. So, if you like, I'll tell you about it."

XVIII. THE STORY OF THE FIRST RED SQUIRRELS

"Long, long ago," began the old owl, "when the world was new, there dwelt upon the earth a wise and good man whose name was Gloos-cap. He was a servant of the Master of Life, who had sent him to teach the men and all the other creatures everything that was good for them to know. So he went about from place to place, teaching the kindreds.

"He taught the Red Men how to build their wigwams and to plant corn and care for it. He taught the beavers how to build their lodges and the birds how to build their nests and care for their little ones. To all the kindreds he taught the things which each most needed to know.

"At first all the creatures were good and heeded the teachings of Gloos-cap. But after a time their hearts became evil. Gloos-cap often spoke to them and did his best to turn them from their wicked ways, but in vain. They grew more and more envious, spiteful, and quarrelsome. At last they became so wicked that they began to fight and kill each other. Worse than all else, the victors took to devouring the bodies of the slain.

"The good Gloos-cap was grieved and disgusted. He made up his mind to invite them to a feast and try once more to turn them from their evil ways. When they came, he set before each one of them food in abundance. Although each had enough and more than enough for himself, some of them were not satisfied. They began to quarrel and fight, each striving to take from the other his portion.

"Now Gloos-cap was a mighty magician. By his magic power, he caused the food to turn to ashes in the mouths of the greedy ones. As soon as they tasted the ashes, they tried to talk and scold, but they could scarcely say two words on account of the ashes which got into their throats.

"The angry Gloos-cap waved his hand over them, and by his magic power the quarrelsome, envious, and greedy ones disappeared. In their place there were a number of red squirrels, who chattered and scolded and coughed as red squirrels always do even to this day. These were the foreparents of all the red squirrels in the world.

"'Now,' said Gloos-cap to the other creatures, 'take warning by the fate of these who are now squirrels and cease from being quarrelsome, envious, and greedy.'"

XIX. HOW THE RED SQUIRREL BECAME SMALL

"Now in those days Mee-ko the Red Squirrel was much larger than he is to-day,--as large as Moo-ween the Bear; and his temper was even as his size. He desired most earnestly to take revenge upon Gloos-cap the Good for what he had done to him. So he sought out the brother of Gloos-cap, even Mal-sum the Wicked Wolf, and tempted him to kill his brother.

"'I would gladly slay him,' said Mal-sum, 'but I know not how it may be done. On account of his magic power, there is only one thing in all the world that can hurt him, and I know not what that is.'

"'Go you,' said Mee-ko, 'and pretend to be friendly with him and find out his secret. Then you may slay him.'

"Mal-sum thought this good advice, and acted according to it. For many days he behaved to his brother with pretended kindness, always watching to find out his secret.

"'My brother,' said he, one day when they were hunting together, 'you know that there is but one thing in all the world that can hurt either of us, one thing for you, and another for me. Tell me what it is with which you may be slain?'

"Now Gloos-cap the Good knew the wickedness and spite that lay hid in the heart of his brother. So he said, 'Nay, but tell me first, what it is with which you may be slain?'

"And the wicked Mal-sum thought in his heart, 'What would it matter even if he knew the truth? I shall slay him before he can harm me.' So he answered truly, 'By the stroke of a fern-root only can I be slain. Now what is your secret?'

"But Gloos-cap, knowing his brother's wickedness, was unwilling to trust him. So he answered falsely and craftily, 'By the stroke of an owl's feather it is fated that I shall be some day slain.'

"Now the wicked Mai-sum was greatly rejoiced in heart at hearing this. So he left his brother, making some excuse, and went off into the woods alone. There finding an owl, one of my foreparents, he shot him, and, taking some of his feathers, returned home.

"That night while Gloos-cap was sleeping, the wicked Mai-sum arose, and taking the owl's feather, struck his brother upon the forehead. But Gloos-cap, awakened by the blow, only laughed. 'It is not really a feather,' said he, 'but a pine-root that shall end my life. I was but joking with you this morning.'

"But the wicked Mai-sum feigned that lie, too, had been only in sport, and the two brothers lay down again and slept.

"But the next night, while Gloos-cap was sleeping, Mai-sum again arose and struck him upon the forehead with a pine-root.

"This time Gloos-cap, seeing the wickedness of his brother's heart, and that he was bound to take his life, arose and drove Mai-sum forth into the woods. Then he went away and sat down by the brookside, considering what he should do.

"'Truly,' said he to himself, 'he will yet slay me. If he but knew that a flowering rush is fated to be my bane, my life would not be safe for a moment.'

"Now it chanced that the beaver was hidden among the reeds in the brook and heard what Gloos-cap had said. So he went off to Mal-sum, and told him his brother's secret for a reward.