Chapter 3

Willingly Unktomee threw down his load upon the lake shore, and with the utmost good nature began to build a little teepee of sticks, thatching it with the dry grass. In a few minutes it was done, and he kindly invited the ducks to enter.

With rustling wings and shining feathers they crowded into the little teepee until it could hold no more.

Unktomee was there, too. He stayed by the door, and began to sing:

"Ishtogmus wachee po! Tuwa etowan kin Ishtah ne sha kta!

(Dance with your eyes shut! Whoever looks shall have red eyes!)"

Every one of the foolish Ducks shut his eyes tight, and Unktomee, as he sang, quietly seized one after another by the neck as they danced in a ring around the teepee, wrung their necks quickly and cast them behind them. Not one had a chance to squawk, so cleverly was the work done, and there would soon have been none to listen to the old songs!

But after a little a small Duck slyly opened his eyes, and saw Unktomee wringing the necks of his friends.

"Fly! Fly!" he exclaimed in terror. "He is killing us all!"

So all the Ducks that were left alive rose up with a mighty rush of wings and a loud clamor of voices. The grass teepee fell to pieces, and the lucky ones flew away; but lying on the ground beside Unktomee were enough fat Ducks for a fine feast!

And the little Duck that peeped forever after had red eyes!

* * * * *

The children liked this story very much, but it was shorter than usual.

"Tell us about the feast!" they cried. "Tell us about the feast of Unktomee!" So old Smoky Day began again:

Now Unktomee wished to make a feast. The first thing he did was to stand and cry aloud:

"Chagah aoo po-o-o! (Somebody bring me a kettle!)"

He called and called for a long time. At last somebody appeared with the kettle. It was the Fox, who was carrying it in his mouth. Unktomee thanked him carelessly, and after waiting awhile, the Fox went sadly away again.

Then Unktomee dressed the Ducks whose necks he had wrung, built a fire, fetched water and put them on to boil. But he was tired as well as hungry, and while his dinner was cooking, he thought he might as well take a nap. So he lay down in the warm sand near by, first telling his Face to be on the watch and to twitch if any one came, so as to awaken him.

While Unktomee slept, the Fox returned with a friend. Unktomee's Face did not twitch as it had been told to do, for the Foxes stroked it very gently, and told it to be quiet. Having done this, they quietly ate every bit of the rich meat, and put the bones back into the pot.

When at last Unktomee yawned and awoke, he was very hungry indeed. He looked to see whether his dinner was ready, and found nothing in the kettle except bones!

"Ah! the Ducks have boiled too long," he said to himself. "The meat will all be in the bottom of the pot."

When he discovered that the bones had been picked clean, he was very angry, and scolded his Face severely for not awakening him in time.

_He who deceives others may himself be caught some day._

TENTH EVENING

UNKTOMEE AND THE ELK

TENTH EVENING

"Tell us another story of Unktomee, grandfather!" cry several of the children, as soon as they are inside the old story-teller's wigwam on the tenth evening.

"Ah, I thought you would ask for another!" remarks the old man with quiet satisfaction. "There are many stories of his dealings with the animal people. He loves to go among them and even to take their shape, that he may make fools of them the more easily. This may do very well for a time, but it is generally not long before he is ready to cry 'Enough!'"

UNKTOMEE AND THE ELK

It was midsummer, and the Elk people were feasting in great numbers upon the slopes of the mountain. Sleek, fat and handsome, they browsed hither and thither off the juicy saplings and rich grass, drank their fill from the clear mountain streams, and lay down to rest at their ease in the green shade through the heat of the day.

Unktomee, who had been travelling far and was hungry and foot-sore, looked upon them with envy.

"Ah," said he to himself, "that is the life for me! Surely these are the happiest people on earth, for they have all things in abundance and are so fleet of foot that they need fear no danger!"

Accordingly, he hid his bow and quiver full of arrows in a hollow tree, with all of his clothing and other weapons, so that he might appear quite naked and harmless before the timid Elk people. They saw that he was unarmed, and they stood still as he approached.

"Here comes Unktomee," said they doubtfully to one another.

"Ah, brothers!" he pleaded with them, "you have enough; you are at peace with the tribes; you overlook the valley and all its dwellers are below you! None is so happy as you. Will you not make me one of you?"

"Friend!" exclaimed their leader, "you do not know what you ask! To be sure, it is now midsummer; our clothing and our weapons are new, there is food in plenty, and we may seem to be happy. However, our antlers, our only weapons, are yet soft, and the Wolf and the Wild Cat are ready and fearless to attack us. Our only hope of escape is in our fleetness, since we are watched all day by the cruel eyes of those who live upon flesh, of whom the most dangerous of all is Man!"

"I know all this," replied Unktomee. "Others may have stronger weapons than you, but I see none with your beauty, your stately height, your freedom and ease of life. I beg of you to allow me to share it!"

"If you can pass the test, we will admit you," they said at last. "Notice our eyes--we must be ever watchful; our ears--they are constantly on guard! Can you smell an enemy even against the wind? Can you detect his footfall before he is near?"

Unktomee passed the test and was finally admitted to the company of the Elks; in fact, he was made the chief of them all, for such he wanted to be.

"Now," said they, "we have made you our leader. You must guide us so that we shall be safe from the hunters!"

Proud of his long limbs and of his stately antlers, he led them all down the hill, running back now and then to urge the hindermost ones into line. When they stopped to rest, he lay down a little apart from the others, under a spreading oak.

Suddenly they all sprang up and fled, for Unktomee had cried out to them:

"Fly! fly! I am struck by an arrow!"

But when no hunter appeared, they were provoked, and grumbled among themselves:

"Unktomee is deceiving us; it was only a stick that fell from the tree!"

Then they all lay down a second time, and a second time the Elks were aroused in vain. They were still more displeased, and said to one another:

"It was only an acorn that fell upon him while he slept!"

A third time they lay down, but this time the Elks stole away from Unktomee and left him sleeping, for they had scented the hunter. When the hunter came, therefore, he found only the chief Elk still sleeping, and he let fly an arrow and wounded him severely.

Unktomee was now in great fear and pain, and he bitterly regretted that he had become an Elk, for he had learned that their life is full of anxiety. The Elks had taught him that it is well to be content with our own, for there is no life that is free from hardship and danger.

ELEVENTH EVENING

THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE

ELEVENTH EVENING

"You are late to-night, my grandchildren," grumbles the good old wife of Smoky Day, as she stands in front of her low doorway, peering under the folds of her dark blanket at the little toiling figures slowly coming nearer, and the many twinkling lights across the snow.

"My mother gave a feast to-day," murmurs Tanagela, in her soft voice. "There were so many people for us to serve--I could not come any sooner! But see, grandmother! I have brought you some boiled rice and venison," she ends, proudly bringing out the heavy kettle from under her skin robe as they enter the well-smoked lodge.

"Ah, ah!" exclaims the story-teller, whose old eyes brighten at the sight of the good food. "We are to feast to-night, it seems; therefore I shall tell you of a feast and what came after."

THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE

The big voice of the Bumble-Bee was heard in every nook and corner of the wood, and from end to end of the deep valley, for Unktomee, the generous, was giving a feast, and the Bee was his herald, the crier of the day.

"Ho, every creeper, every buzzer, all ye little people who fly without feathers, come this day to the festival!" boomed the Bee. "All must prepare to exhibit their best skill; the Toad, who can neither fly nor run, his brother the Bullfrog, with his band of musicians, and even the Flying-squirrel with the rest. Tanagela, the Humming-bird, will be the judge of beauty, and the Bat will judge your skilful performance in the air. That wise medicine-man, the Serpent, will also be there!"

So Unktomee's herald made the cedar-fringed gulches and pine-scented hilltops fairly hum with his call.

It was in July, the Moon of Black Cherries, and the Little People gathered in great numbers at the place of the Singing Waterfall, which had been chosen for the meeting-place. The happy valley buzzed with their million voices.

Then Unktomee, the prudent, saw fit to appoint certain warriors to keep order at the festival. For many were present, therefore mishap or injustice might be.

The Wolf was ordered to watch upon the surrounding hills, so that no enemy should come near; and the Owl was appointed to keep order within the camp, and especially to see that neither the Bat, the Night-hawk nor the Swallow tribe were permitted to disturb the little insect people.

The day opened well, with a chorus of praise from the great orchestra--a sunrise song, opened by Ta-she-ya-ka, the Meadow-lark, in which even the crickets joined, with their slender instruments.

Then came the contest of beauty, in which the Butterflies, in their gauzy dresses of every color, won the first prize. The Bat, however, who was to judge of feats on the wing, had slyly made a meal of some of the lesser contestants. The Owl swooped down upon him to punish him, and there was great confusion.

Unktomee could do nothing with his guests. The Toad began to devour the smaller creepers, the Snake attacked the Toad, and even the Wolf came down from his station on the hills to make a raid upon the helpless Little People. Thus began the warfare and preying among these feeble tribes that has lasted to this day.

_It is not wise to put the strong in authority over the weak._

TWELFTH EVENING

EYA THE DEVOURER

TWELFTH EVENING

"We shall hear to-night of one good deed done by Unktomee," begins the old teacher, when all are in their places. "In the old days, longer ago than any one can remember, no one was more feared and dreaded than Eya, the Glutton, the devouring spirit that went to and fro upon the earth, able to draw all living creatures into his hideous, open mouth! His form was monstrous and terrifying. No one seemed to know what he feared, or how he might be overcome. Whole tribes of people were swallowed up by him, and there was no help!

"At last came Unktomee, and by his quick wit and genial ways got the better of this enemy of our race. He is very hard to kill, for he often comes to life again after he has been left for dead. Perhaps by Eya is meant the terrible hunger, or the sickness that runs like fire from lodge to lodge and sweeps away whole villages."

EYA THE DEVOURER

Once upon a time, an old woman who was gathering wood found a lost babe deep in the forest, and bringing him to the camp, gave him to the chief's pretty daughter. The girl, who was very tender-hearted, took the child and cared for him as her own.

She fed him often, but he was never satisfied and continually cried for more. When he screamed, his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and far down his red throat she seemed to see a great company of people struggling in confusion. However, she told no one, but patiently tended the strange child and carried him about with her everywhere.

At dead of night, when all in the lodge were asleep, the tender-hearted maiden was aroused by the crying of her babe. As she bent over him, there seemed to come from his wide-open mouth, as if from the depths of the earth, the far-off voices of many people in distress.

Then at last she went and awoke the chief, her father, and said to him:

"Father, come and listen to the voice of my babe!"

He listened for a moment and exclaimed in horror:

"My child, this is Eya, he who devours all things, even whole villages! This that we hear is the crying of the people whom he has swallowed. Now he has taken the form of an innocent babe and is come to destroy us!

"We must steal away quietly while he sleeps, and travel fast and far before morning."

In whispers they aroused the sleeping people, and all broke camp without disturbing the child, who once more slept in the chief's teepee, which they left still standing.

All night they travelled at their best pace, and when morning came, they had come to a wide and deep river. Here Unktomee, the crafty one, came to meet them, smiling and rubbing his hands.

When he had learned what caused the people of a whole village to flee in the night, he kindly offered to help them against their powerful enemy. Terrified though they were, they were even then unwilling, for they feared lest he might play some trick upon them; but Unktomee persisted, and went back upon their trail to meet the Devourer.

He had not gone far before he saw Eya hastening after the fleeing ones, his ugly mouth gaping widely and his great, unwieldy body supported by a pair of feeble legs that tottered under its weight.

"Where are you going, younger brother?" asked Unktomee, pleasantly.

"How dare you call me younger brother?" angrily returned the other. "Do you not know that I was the first one created upon the solid earth?"

"If that is so, I must be older than you," replied Unktomee, in his good-natured way, "for I was created upon the face of the water, before the dry land itself! I know whom you seek, younger brother, and am come out to help you.

"Those foolish ones whom you are following are encamped on the river close at hand, and I will lead you to them presently. They cannot escape you. Why not rest a little now, and refresh yourself with the delicacy that I have prepared for you? See, these are human ears, nicely dried for your meal!"

So saying, Unktomee pointed to a great heap of mussel shells that lay upon the hill-top. The greedy monster was deceived, and hastily swallowed the shells, which caused him such distress that he was helpless, and was easily dispatched by the men of the village, who now came out to kill him. No sooner had they cut open his enormous body with their knives, than a large company of people issued forth upon the plain, and began dancing and singing songs of praise for their deliverance.

THIRTEENTH EVENING

THE WARS OF WA-KEE-YAN AND UNK-TAY-HEE

THIRTEENTH EVENING

"Were you not frightened last night, grandfather?" exclaims Waola, the boldest of the boys, before the little circle has fairly settled into quiet. "Thunder in the Moon of Sore Eyes is not heard so often! My little sister cried bitterly, and Uncle says that it is an omen of misfortune."

"So it would have seemed to me once, my grandson," replies the old sage, with his pleasant smile. "But I am an old man, and I have heard the Thunder-Bird speak even more loudly, both in season and out of season, yet no evil came of it to our people. Truly I think that the Great Mystery has set bounds to the terrors of these his warriors, so that we need not tremble before them as in the old days, when their laws were not fully known.

"There is a very old story concerning these matters, which I will tell you to-night."

THE WARS OF WA-KEE-YAN AND UNK-TAY-HEE

Wa-kee-yan is the Great Bird of storm and tempest, who was appointed in the beginning of things to keep the earth and also the upper air pure and clean. Although there is sometimes death and destruction in his path, yet he is a servant of the Great Mystery and his work is good.

Yet he rules only one half the year. The other half is ruled by Wa-zee-yah, the Spirit of Cold, and he too purifies the air and the water.

When Wa-zee-yah, the North Wind, the Cold-Maker, comes, the animals put on thicker robes and some even change their color to be like the white blanket that he lays over the earth. Then the waters are imprisoned for a season, and all things sleep and rest.

Then comes He-yo-kah, the South-Wind, also called the Fool-Wind, he who is the herald of the Thunder-Bird and causes all the trees and the plains to put on their garments of green.

For ages there had been war between the Thunder-Bird, the ruler of the upper air, and the Water Monster, or Unk-tay-hee, the ruler of the deep. Whenever a black cloud appeared in the sky and cast its threatening shadow upon the water, all the fishes knew it for a warning to descend to the floor of their watery abode, the deep, dark realm, away from the power of his arrows.

Even the sea birds must seek their sheltered coves and hiding-places, pull tight their downy blankets and be still, for now Wa-kee-yan would sweep sea and air with his mighty wing, and punish the disobedient.

All was quiet before his approach. His breath was the tempest, the roll of the thunder his drum-beat, the lightning's flash his tomahawk. At his approach, the face of the deep was thrown into a mighty commotion. Column after column of white warriors advanced boldly upon the land, and broke upon the rocky shores with a loud war-whoop. Such was the combat of the Spirits of Air and Water, at which all living creatures hid themselves and trembled.

At last the great peace-maker, the Sun, appeared, holding in his hand the Rainbow, like a flag of many colors, a sign that the battle is over. He sent each of the warriors to his own place. Gentle airs came down from above to meet and play with the little waves that danced upon the blue water. He who is our Father, the father of our bodies, whose wife is our Mother the Earth, wishes safety and peace for all his children, therefore he still watches the unruly ones from the middle of the sky, and their battles are quickly ended.

FOURTEENTH EVENING

THE LITTLE BOY MAN

FOURTEENTH EVENING

"I shall now tell you of the First Man, and how he came upon earth as an infant, yet without father or mother. Listen well, my children, for you should never forget this story."

THE LITTLE BOY MAN

At the beginning of things, He-who-was-first-Created found himself living alone. The earth was here before him, clothed in green grass and thick forests, and peopled with the animal tribes. Then all these spoke one language, and the Lonely One was heralded by them everywhere as he roamed to and fro over the world, both upon dry land and in the depths of the sea.

One day, when he returned to his teepee from a long wandering, he felt a pain in his left foot, and lo! a splinter in the great toe! Drawing out the splinter, he tossed it upward through the smoke-hole of the lodge. He could hear it roll and rattle down over the birch-bark covering, and in the instant that it touched the ground, there arose the cry of a new-born child!

He-who-was-first-Created at once came forth and took up the infant, who was the Boy Man, the father of the human race here upon earth.

Now the little Boy Man grew and flourished, and was perfectly happy under the wise guidance of his friend and Elder Brother. Although he had neither father nor mother, and only animals for playmates, it is said that no child born of human parents has ever led so free and happy a life as he. In those days, there was peace between the animals and the Boy Man. Sometimes they challenged him to friendly contests, whereupon He-who-was-first-Created taught his little brother how to outwit them by clever tricks and devices. This he was often able to do; but not always; for sometimes the animals by their greater strength finally overcame him.

One morning the Boy Man went out from his lodge as usual to the day's occupations, but did not return at night nor for many nights afterward. He-who-was-first-Created mourned and wailed long for the lost one. At last he became angry, and set out to look for the bones of his brother.

He travelled from east to west across the world, but found no trace of the one he sought, and all of the land creatures whom he questioned declared that they had not seen him pass by.

Next he followed the rivers, and the shores of the Great Lakes, and there one day he heard an old woman singing as she cut down a tree at the edge of the water. The traveller came closer to hear the words of the song; and lo! it was a song of the scalp-dance, and in it she spoke the name of the lost Boy Man.

He-who-was-first-Created now turned himself into a King-fisher, and so approached unsuspected and talked with the old Beaver-woman. From her he learned that his younger brother had been enticed into the Great Water and destroyed by the monster of the deep, Unk-tay-hee. Thereupon he went down to the shore and changed himself into a tall pine overlooking the lake.

For many moons He-who-was-first-Created remained thus, until at last he beheld two huge forms rising up in the midst of the waves. The monsters glided gradually toward the shore and lay basking in the sun at his feet, rocking gently with the motion of the quiet water. It was old Unk-tay-hee and his mate.

"Husband!" exclaimed the wife of Unk-tay-hee, "for ages this has been our resting-place, and yet I have never seen this tree before!"

"Woman, the tree has always been there!" returned the water monster.

"But I am sure it was not here before," she insisted.

Then Unk-tay-hee wound his immense scaly tail about the giant pine and tried to pull it out by the roots. The water foamed and boiled with his struggles, but He-who-was-first-Created stood firm, and at last the monster gave up the attempt.

"There," he declared, "I told you it had always been there!" His wife appeared satisfied, and presently the gentle waves rocked them both to sleep.

Then He-who-was-first-Created returned to his own shape, and with his long spear he stabbed each of the monsters, so that with groans of pain they dove down to their homes at the bottom of the great lake, and the waters boiled above them, and the foam was red with their blood.

FIFTEENTH EVENING

THE RETURN OF THE LITTLE BOY MAN

FIFTEENTH EVENING

Grandfather has scarcely taken up his long pipe to-night before the children begin to gather, impatient for the end of the story. Chatanna has been begging his father to tell him whether the Little Boy Man was ever found, but he has been obliged to wait for the old man to go on with his tale.

THE RETURN OF THE LITTLE BOY MAN

He-who-was-first-Created now took the form of a swallow, and flew down from the high cliffs, skimming over the surface of the water. Within a sheltered cove among the pines, the water-birds were holding a least. Some were singing, some dancing, and that great medicine-man, the Loon, was among them, blowing his sacred whistle.

The Lonely One in the form of a swallow dipped down to the water's edge and addressed the Loon respectfully, asking for some of the secrets of his medicine. The Loon was very kind. He taught him several mystery songs, and showed him how to treat the sick.

"Now," said the Swallow, "if you will permit me to take your form for a short time, I will go down into the deep and try to cure Unk-tay-hee and his wife of their dreadful wounds!"