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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/338-0.txt b/338-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3b98af5 --- /dev/null +++ b/338-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2537 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Indian Legends, by Zitkala-Sa + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Old Indian Legends + +Author: Zitkala-Sa + +Release Date: July 5, 2008 [EBook #338] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + +Retold By Zitkala-Sa + + + + +ITKALA-SA. + + + + + +CONTENTS + + + IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + IKTOMI'S BLANKET + IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + THE TREE-BOUND + SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + THE TOAD AND THE BOY + IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + + +IKTOMI is a spider fairy. He wears brown deerskin leggins with long soft +fringes on either side, and tiny beaded moccasins on his feet. His long +black hair is parted in the middle and wrapped with red, red bands. +Each round braid hangs over a small brown ear and falls forward over his +shoulders. + +He even paints his funny face with red and yellow, and draws big black +rings around his eyes. He wears a deerskin jacket, with bright colored +beads sewed tightly on it. Iktomi dresses like a real Dakota brave. In +truth, his paint and deerskins are the best part of him--if ever dress +is part of man or fairy. + +Iktomi is a wily fellow. His hands are always kept in mischief. He +prefers to spread a snare rather than to earn the smallest thing with +honest hunting. Why! he laughs outright with wide open mouth when some +simple folk are caught in a trap, sure and fast. + +He never dreams another lives so bright as he. Often his own conceit +leads him hard against the common sense of simpler people. + +Poor Iktomi cannot help being a little imp. And so long as he is a +naughty fairy, he cannot find a single friend. No one helps him when +he is in trouble. No one really loves him. Those who come to admire his +handsome beaded jacket and long fringed leggins soon go away sick and +tired of his vain, vain words and heartless laughter. + +Thus Iktomi lives alone in a cone-shaped wigwam upon the plain. One day +he sat hungry within his teepee. Suddenly he rushed out, dragging after +him his blanket. Quickly spreading it on the ground, he tore up dry tall +grass with both his hands and tossed it fast into the blanket. + +Tying all the four corners together in a knot, he threw the light bundle +of grass over his shoulder. + +Snatching up a slender willow stick with his free left hand, he started +off with a hop and a leap. From side to side bounced the bundle on his +back, as he ran light-footed over the uneven ground. Soon he came to the +edge of the great level land. On the hilltop he paused for breath. With +wicked smacks of his dry parched lips, as if tasting some tender meat, +he looked straight into space toward the marshy river bottom. With a +thin palm shading his eyes from the western sun, he peered far away into +the lowlands, munching his own cheeks all the while. “Ah-ha!” grunted +he, satisfied with what he saw. + +A group of wild ducks were dancing and feasting in the marshes. With +wings outspread, tip to tip, they moved up and down in a large circle. +Within the ring, around a small drum, sat the chosen singers, nodding +their heads and blinking their eyes. + +They sang in unison a merry dance-song, and beat a lively tattoo on the +drum. + +Following a winding footpath near by, came a bent figure of a Dakota +brave. He bore on his back a very large bundle. With a willow cane he +propped himself up as he staggered along beneath his burden. + +“Ho! who is there?” called out a curious old duck, still bobbing up and +down in the circular dance. + +Hereupon the drummers stretched their necks till they strangled their +song for a look at the stranger passing by. + +“Ho, Iktomi! Old fellow, pray tell us what you carry in your blanket. Do +not hurry off! Stop! halt!” urged one of the singers. + +“Stop! stay! Show us what is in your blanket!” cried out other voices. + +“My friends, I must not spoil your dance. Oh, you would not care to see +if you only knew what is in my blanket. Sing on! dance on! I must not +show you what I carry on my back,” answered Iktomi, nudging his own +sides with his elbows. This reply broke up the ring entirely. Now all +the ducks crowded about Iktomi. + +“We must see what you carry! We must know what is in your blanket!” + they shouted in both his ears. Some even brushed their wings against the +mysterious bundle. Nudging himself again, wily Iktomi said, “My friends, +'t is only a pack of songs I carry in my blanket.” + +“Oh, then let us hear your songs!” cried the curious ducks. + +At length Iktomi consented to sing his songs. With delight all the ducks +flapped their wings and cried together, “Hoye! hoye!” + +Iktomi, with great care, laid down his bundle on the ground. + +“I will build first a round straw house, for I never sing my songs in +the open air,” said he. + +Quickly he bent green willow sticks, planting both ends of each pole +into the earth. These he covered thick with reeds and grasses. Soon the +straw hut was ready. One by one the fat ducks waddled in through a small +opening, which was the only entrance way. Beside the door Iktomi stood +smiling, as the ducks, eyeing his bundle of songs, strutted into the +hut. + +In a strange low voice Iktomi began his queer old tunes. All the ducks +sat round-eyed in a circle about the mysterious singer. It was dim in +that straw hut, for Iktomi had not forgot to cover up the small entrance +way. All of a sudden his song burst into full voice. As the startled +ducks sat uneasily on the ground, Iktomi changed his tune into a minor +strain. These were the words he sang: + +“Istokmus wacipo, tuwayatunwanpi kinhan ista nisasapi kta,” which is, +“With eyes closed you must dance. He who dares to open his eyes, forever +red eyes shall have.” + +Up rose the circle of seated ducks and holding their wings close against +their sides began to dance to the rhythm of Iktomi's song and drum. + +With eyes closed they did dance! Iktomi ceased to beat his drum. He +began to sing louder and faster. He seemed to be moving about in the +center of the ring. No duck dared blink a wink. Each one shut his eyes +very tight and danced even harder. Up and down! Shifting to the right of +them they hopped round and round in that blind dance. It was a difficult +dance for the curious folk. + +At length one of the dancers could close his eyes no longer! It was a +Skiska who peeped the least tiny blink at Iktomi within the center of +the circle. “Oh! oh!” squawked he in awful terror! “Run! fly! Iktomi is +twisting your heads and breaking your necks! Run out and fly! fly!” + he cried. Hereupon the ducks opened their eyes. There beside Iktomi's +bundle of songs lay half of their crowd--flat on their backs. + +Out they flew through the opening Skiska had made as he rushed forth +with his alarm. + +But as they soared high into the blue sky they cried to one another: +“Oh! your eyes are red-red!” “And yours are red-red!” For the warning +words of the magic minor strain had proven true. “Ah-ha!” laughed +Iktomi, untying the four corners of his blanket, “I shall sit no more +hungry within my dwelling.” Homeward he trudged along with nice fat +ducks in his blanket. He left the little straw hut for the rains and +winds to pull down. + +Having reached his own teepee on the high level lands, Iktomi kindled +a large fire out of doors. He planted sharp-pointed sticks around the +leaping flames. On each stake he fastened a duck to roast. A few he +buried under the ashes to bake. Disappearing within his teepee, he came +out again with some huge seashells. These were his dishes. Placing one +under each roasting duck, he muttered, “The sweet fat oozing out will +taste well with the hard-cooked breasts.” + +Heaping more willows upon the fire, Iktomi sat down on the ground with +crossed shins. A long chin between his knees pointed toward the red +flames, while his eyes were on the browning ducks. + +Just above his ankles he clasped and unclasped his long bony fingers. +Now and then he sniffed impatiently the savory odor. + +The brisk wind which stirred the fire also played with a squeaky old +tree beside Iktomi's wigwam. + +From side to side the tree was swaying and crying in an old man's voice, +“Help! I'll break! I'll fall!” Iktomi shrugged his great shoulders, but +did not once take his eyes from the ducks. The dripping of amber oil +into pearly dishes, drop by drop, pleased his hungry eyes. Still the old +tree man called for help. “He! What sound is it that makes my ear ache!” + exclaimed Iktomi, holding a hand on his ear. + +He rose and looked around. The squeaking came from the tree. Then he +began climbing the tree to find the disagreeable sound. He placed his +foot right on a cracked limb without seeing it. Just then a whiff of +wind came rushing by and pressed together the broken edges. There in a +strong wooden hand Iktomi's foot was caught. + +“Oh! my foot is crushed!” he howled like a coward. In vain he pulled and +puffed to free himself. + +While sitting a prisoner on the tree he spied, through his tears, a pack +of gray wolves roaming over the level lands. Waving his hands toward +them, he called in his loudest voice, “He! Gray wolves! Don't you come +here! I'm caught fast in the tree so that my duck feast is getting cold. +Don't you come to eat up my meal.” + +The leader of the pack upon hearing Iktomi's words turned to his +comrades and said: + +“Ah! hear the foolish fellow! He says he has a duck feast to be eaten! +Let us hurry there for our share!” Away bounded the wolves toward +Iktomi's lodge. + +From the tree Iktomi watched the hungry wolves eat up his nicely browned +fat ducks. His foot pained him more and more. He heard them crack the +small round bones with their strong long teeth and eat out the oily +marrow. Now severe pains shot up from his foot through his whole body. +“Hin-hin-hin!” sobbed Iktomi. Real tears washed brown streaks across his +red-painted cheeks. Smacking their lips, the wolves began to leave the +place, when Iktomi cried out like a pouting child, “At least you have +left my baking under the ashes!” + +“Ho! Po!” shouted the mischievous wolves; “he says more ducks are to be +found under the ashes! Come! Let us have our fill this once!” + +Running back to the dead fire, they pawed out the ducks with such rude +haste that a cloud of ashes rose like gray smoke over them. + +“Hin-hin-hin!” moaned Iktomi, when the wolves had scampered off. All +too late, the sturdy breeze returned, and, passing by, pulled apart the +broken edges of the tree. Iktomi was released. But alas! he had no duck +feast. + + + + +IKTOMI'S BLANKET + + +ALONE within his teepee sat Iktomi. The sun was but a handsbreadth from +the western edge of land. + +“Those, bad, bad gray wolves! They ate up all my nice fat ducks!” + muttered he, rocking his body to and fro. + +He was cuddling the evil memory he bore those hungry wolves. At last he +ceased to sway his body backward and forward, but sat still and stiff as +a stone image. + +“Oh! I'll go to Inyan, the great-grandfather, and pray for food!” he +exclaimed. + +At once he hurried forth from his teepee and, with his blanket over one +shoulder, drew nigh to a huge rock on a hillside. + +With half-crouching, half-running strides, he fell upon Inyan with +outspread hands. + +“Grandfather! pity me. I am hungry. I am starving. Give me food. +Great-grandfather, give me meat to eat!” he cried. All the while he +stroked and caressed the face of the great stone god. + +The all-powerful Great Spirit, who makes the trees and grass, can hear +the voice of those who pray in many varied ways. The hearing of +Inyan, the large hard stone, was the one most sought after. He was the +great-grandfather, for he had sat upon the hillside many, many seasons. +He had seen the prairie put on a snow-white blanket and then change it +for a bright green robe more than a thousand times. + +Still unaffected by the myriad moons he rested on the everlasting hill, +listening to the prayers of Indian warriors. Before the finding of the +magic arrow he had sat there. + +Now, as Iktomi prayed and wept before the great-grandfather, the sky in +the west was red like a glowing face. The sunset poured a soft mellow +light upon the huge gray stone and the solitary figure beside it. It +was the smile of the Great Spirit upon the grandfather and the wayward +child. + +The prayer was heard. Iktomi knew it. “Now, grandfather, accept my +offering; 'tis all I have,” said Iktomi as he spread his half-worn +blanket upon Inyan's cold shoulders. Then Iktomi, happy with the smile +of the sunset sky, followed a footpath leading toward a thicketed +ravine. He had not gone many paces into the shrubbery when before him +lay a freshly wounded deer! + +“This is the answer from the red western sky!” cried Iktomi with hands +uplifted. + +Slipping a long thin blade from out his belt, he cut large chunks of +choice meat. Sharpening some willow sticks, he planted them around a +wood-pile he had ready to kindle. On these stakes he meant to roast the +venison. + +While he was rubbing briskly two long sticks to start a fire, the sun in +the west fell out of the sky below the edge of land. Twilight was over +all. Iktomi felt the cold night air upon his bare neck and shoulders. +“Ough!” he shivered as he wiped his knife on the grass. Tucking it in a +beaded case hanging from his belt, Iktomi stood erect, looking about. +He shivered again. “Ough! Ah! I am cold. I wish I had my blanket!” + whispered he, hovering over the pile of dry sticks and the sharp stakes +round about it. Suddenly he paused and dropped his hands at his sides. + +“The old great-grandfather does not feel the cold as I do. He does not +need my old blanket as I do. I wish I had not given it to him. Oh! I +think I'll run up there and take it back!” said he, pointing his long +chin toward the large gray stone. + +Iktomi, in the warm sunshine, had no need of his blanket, and it had +been very easy to part with a thing which he could not miss. But the +chilly night wind quite froze his ardent thank-offering. + +Thus running up the hillside, his teeth chattering all the way, he drew +near to Inyan, the sacred symbol. Seizing one corner of the half-worn +blanket, Iktomi pulled it off with a jerk. + +“Give my blanket back, old grandfather! You do not need it. I do!” This +was very wrong, yet Iktomi did it, for his wit was not wisdom. Drawing +the blanket tight over his shoulders, he descended the hill with +hurrying feet. + +He was soon upon the edge of the ravine. A young moon, like a bright +bent bow, climbed up from the southwest horizon a little way into the +sky. + +In this pale light Iktomi stood motionless as a ghost amid the thicket. +His woodpile was not yet kindled. His pointed stakes were still bare as +he had left them. But where was the deer--the venison he had felt warm +in his hands a moment ago? It was gone. Only the dry rib bones lay on +the ground like giant fingers from an open grave. Iktomi was troubled. +At length, stooping over the white dried bones, he took hold of one and +shook it. The bones, loose in their sockets, rattled together at his +touch. Iktomi let go his hold. He sprang back amazed. And though he wore +a blanket his teeth chattered more than ever. Then his blunted sense +will surprise you, little reader; for instead of being grieved that he +had taken back his blanket, he cried aloud, “Hin-hin-hin! If only I had +eaten the venison before going for my blanket!” + +Those tears no longer moved the hand of the Generous Giver. They were +selfish tears. The Great Spirit does not heed them ever. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + + +BESIDE a white lake, beneath a large grown willow tree, sat Iktomi on +the bare ground. The heap of smouldering ashes told of a recent open +fire. With ankles crossed together around a pot of soup, Iktomi bent +over some delicious boiled fish. + +Fast he dipped his black horn spoon into the soup, for he was ravenous. +Iktomi had no regular meal times. Often when he was hungry he went +without food. + +Well hid between the lake and the wild rice, he looked nowhere save into +the pot of fish. Not knowing when the next meal would be, he meant to +eat enough now to last some time. + +“How, how, my friend!” said a voice out of the wild rice. Iktomi +started. He almost choked with his soup. He peered through the long +reeds from where he sat with his long horn spoon in mid-air. + +“How, my friend!” said the voice again, this time close at his side. +Iktomi turned and there stood a dripping muskrat who had just come out +of the lake. + +“Oh, it is my friend who startled me. I wondered if among the wild rice +some spirit voice was talking. How, how, my friend!” said Iktomi. The +muskrat stood smiling. On his lips hung a ready “Yes, my friend,” when +Iktomi would ask, “My friend, will you sit down beside me and share my +food?” + +That was the custom of the plains people. Yet Iktomi sat silent. He +hummed an old dance-song and beat gently on the edge of the pot with his +buffalo-horn spoon. The muskrat began to feel awkward before such lack +of hospitality and wished himself under water. + +After many heart throbs Iktomi stopped drumming with his horn ladle, and +looking upward into the muskrat's face, he said: + +“My friend, let us run a race to see who shall win this pot of fish. If +I win, I shall not need to share it with you. If you win, you shall have +half of it.” Springing to his feet, Iktomi began at once to tighten the +belt about his waist. + +“My friend Ikto, I cannot run a race with you! I am not a swift runner, +and you are nimble as a deer. We shall not run any race together,” + answered the hungry muskrat. + +For a moment Iktomi stood with a hand on his long protruding chin. His +eyes were fixed upon something in the air. The muskrat looked out of the +corners of his eyes without moving his head. He watched the wily Iktomi +concocting a plot. + +“Yes, yes,” said Iktomi, suddenly turning his gaze upon the unwelcome +visitor; “I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slacken my +usual speed; and the race will be a fair one.” + +Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder and started +off along the edge of the lake. When they reached the opposite side +Iktomi pried about in search of a heavy stone. + +He found one half-buried in the shallow water. Pulling it out upon dry +land, he wrapped it in his blanket. + +“Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake, I on the +other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!” said Iktomi. + +The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back. Then +they parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds fringing the +shore. Iktomi found his load a heavy one. Perspiration hung like beads +on his brow. His chest heaved hard and fast. + +He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had gone, but +nowhere did he see any sign of him. “Well, he is running low under the +wild rice!” said he. Yet as he scanned the tall grasses on the lake +shore, he saw not one stir as if to make way for the runner. “Ah, has he +gone so fast ahead that the disturbed grasses in his trail have quieted +again?” exclaimed Iktomi. With that thought he quickly dropped the heavy +stone. “No more of this!” said he, patting his chest with both hands. + +Off with a springing bound, he ran swiftly toward the goal. Tufts of +reeds and grass fell flat under his feet. Hardly had they raised their +heads when Iktomi was many paces gone. + +Soon he reached the heap of cold ashes. Iktomi halted stiff as if he had +struck an invisible cliff. His black eyes showed a ring of white about +them as he stared at the empty ground. There was no pot of boiled fish! +There was no water-man in sight! “Oh, if only I had shared my food like +a real Dakota, I would not have lost it all! Why did I not know the +muskrat would run through the water? He swims faster than I could ever +run! That is what he has done. He has laughed at me for carrying a +weight on my back while he shot hither like an arrow!” + +Crying thus to himself, Iktomi stepped to the water's brink. He stooped +forward with a hand on each bent knee and peeped far into the deep +water. + +“There!” he exclaimed, “I see you, my friend, sitting with your ankles +wound around my little pot of fish! My friend, I am hungry. Give me a +bone!” + +“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the water-man, the muskrat. The sound did not rise +up out of the lake, for it came down from overhead. With his hands still +on his knees, Iktomi turned his face upward into the great willow tree. +Opening wide his mouth he begged, “My friend, my friend, give me a bone +to gnaw!” + +“Ha! ha!” laughed the muskrat, and leaning over the limb he sat upon, +he let fall a small sharp bone which dropped right into Iktomi's throat. +Iktomi almost choked to death before he could get it out. In the tree +the muskrat sat laughing loud. “Next time, say to a visiting friend, 'Be +seated beside me, my friend. Let me share with you my food.'” + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + + +AFAR off upon a large level land, a summer sun was shining bright. Here +and there over the rolling green were tall bunches of coarse gray weeds. +Iktomi in his fringed buckskins walked alone across the prairie with +a black bare head glossy in the sunlight. He walked through the grass +without following any well-worn footpath. + +From one large bunch of coarse weeds to another he wound his way about +the great plain. He lifted his foot lightly and placed it gently forward +like a wildcat prowling noiselessly through the thick grass. He stopped +a few steps away from a very large bunch of wild sage. From shoulder to +shoulder he tilted his head. Still farther he bent from side to side, +first low over one hip and then over the other. Far forward he stooped, +stretching his long thin neck like a duck, to see what lay under a fur +coat beyond the bunch of coarse grass. + +A sleek gray-faced prairie wolf! his pointed black nose tucked in +between his four feet drawn snugly together; his handsome bushy tail +wound over his nose and feet; a coyote fast asleep in the shadow of a +bunch of grass!--this is what Iktomi spied. Carefully he raised one foot +and cautiously reached out with his toes. Gently, gently he lifted the +foot behind and placed it before the other. Thus he came nearer and +nearer to the round fur ball lying motionless under the sage grass. + +Now Iktomi stood beside it, looking at the closed eyelids that did not +quiver the least bit. Pressing his lips into straight lines and nodding +his head slowly, he bent over the wolf. He held his ear close to the +coyote's nose, but not a breath of air stirred from it. + +“Dead!” said he at last. “Dead, but not long since he ran over these +plains! See! there in his paw is caught a fresh feather. He is nice +fat meat!” Taking hold of the paw with the bird feather fast on it, he +exclaimed, “Why, he is still warm! I'll carry him to my dwelling and +have a roast for my evening meal. Ah-ha!” he laughed, as he seized the +coyote by its two fore paws and its two hind feet and swung him over +head across his shoulders. The wolf was large and the teepee was far +across the prairie. Iktomi trudged along with his burden, smacking his +hungry lips together. He blinked his eyes hard to keep out the salty +perspiration streaming down his face. + +All the while the coyote on his back lay gazing into the sky with wide +open eyes. His long white teeth fairly gleamed as he smiled and smiled. + +“To ride on one's own feet is tiresome, but to be carried like a warrior +from a brave fight is great fun!” said the coyote in his heart. He +had never been borne on any one's back before and the new experience +delighted him. He lay there lazily on Iktomi's shoulders, now and then +blinking blue winks. Did you never see a birdie blink a blue wink? This +is how it first became a saying among the plains people. When a bird +stands aloof watching your strange ways, a thin bluish white tissue +slips quickly over his eyes and as quickly off again; so quick that you +think it was only a mysterious blue wink. Sometimes when children grow +drowsy they blink blue winks, while others who are too proud to look +with friendly eyes upon people blink in this cold bird-manner. + +The coyote was affected by both sleepiness and pride. His winks were +almost as blue as the sky. In the midst of his new pleasure the swaying +motion ceased. Iktomi had reached his dwelling place. The coyote +felt drowsy no longer, for in the next instant he was slipping out +of Iktomi's hands. He was falling, falling through space, and then he +struck the ground with such a bump he did not wish to breathe for a +while. He wondered what Iktomi would do, thus he lay still where he +fell. Humming a dance-song, one from his bundle of mystery songs, Iktomi +hopped and darted about at an imaginary dance and feast. He gathered dry +willow sticks and broke them in two against his knee. He built a large +fire out of doors. The flames leaped up high in red and yellow streaks. +Now Iktomi returned to the coyote who had been looking on through his +eyelashes. + +Taking him again by his paws and hind feet, he swung him to and fro. +Then as the wolf swung toward the red flames, Iktomi let him go. Once +again the coyote fell through space. Hot air smote his nostrils. He saw +red dancing fire, and now he struck a bed of cracking embers. With a +quick turn he leaped out of the flames. From his heels were scattered a +shower of red coals upon Iktomi's bare arms and shoulders. Dumbfounded, +Iktomi thought he saw a spirit walk out of his fire. His jaws fell +apart. He thrust a palm to his face, hard over his mouth! He could +scarce keep from shrieking. + +Rolling over and over on the grass and rubbing the sides of his head +against the ground, the coyote soon put out the fire on his fur. +Iktomi's eyes were almost ready to jump out of his head as he stood +cooling a burn on his brown arm with his breath. + +Sitting on his haunches, on the opposite side of the fire from where +Iktomi stood, the coyote began to laugh at him. + +“Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. Make sure the +enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!” + +Then off he ran so swiftly that his long bushy tail hung out in a +straight line with his back. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + + +IN one of his wanderings through the wooded lands, Iktomi saw a rare +bird sitting high in a tree-top. Its long fan-like tail feathers +had caught all the beautiful colors of the rainbow. Handsome in the +glistening summer sun sat the bird of rainbow plumage. Iktomi hurried +hither with his eyes fast on the bird. + +He stood beneath the tree looking long and wistfully at the peacock's +bright feathers. At length he heaved a sigh and began: “Oh, I wish I had +such pretty feathers! How I wish I were not I! If only I were a handsome +feathered creature how happy I would be! I'd be so glad to sit upon a +very high tree and bask in the summer sun like you!” said he suddenly, +pointing his bony finger up toward the peacock, who was eyeing the +stranger below, turning his head from side to side. + +“I beg of you make me into a bird with green and purple feathers like +yours!” implored Iktomi, tired now of playing the brave in beaded +buckskins. The peacock then spoke to Iktomi: “I have a magic power. My +touch will change you in a moment into the most beautiful peacock if you +can keep one condition.” + +“Yes! yes!” shouted Iktomi, jumping up and down, patting his lips with +his palm, which caused his voice to vibrate in a peculiar fashion. “Yes! +yes! I could keep ten conditions if only you would change me into a +bird with long, bright tail feathers. Oh, I am so ugly! I am so tired of +being myself! Change me! Do!” + +Hereupon the peacock spread out both his wings, and scarce moving them, +he sailed slowly down upon the ground. Right beside Iktomi he alighted. +Very low in Iktomi's ear the peacock whispered, “Are you willing to keep +one condition, though hard it be?” + +“Yes! yes! I've told you ten of them if need be!” exclaimed Iktomi, with +some impatience. + +“Then I pronounce you a handsome feathered bird. No longer are you +Iktomi the mischief-maker.” Saying this the peacock touched Iktomi with +the tips of his wings. + +Iktomi vanished at the touch. There stood beneath the tree two handsome +peacocks. While one of the pair strutted about with a head turned aside +as if dazzled by his own bright-tinted tail feathers, the other bird +soared slowly upward. He sat quiet and unconscious of his gay plumage. +He seemed content to perch there on a large limb in the warm sunshine. + +After a little while the vain peacock, dizzy with his bright colors, +spread out his wings and lit on the same branch with the elder bird. + +“Oh!” he exclaimed, “how hard to fly! Brightly tinted feathers are +handsome, but I wish they were light enough to fly!” Just there the +elder bird interrupted him. “That is the one condition. Never try to fly +like other birds. Upon the day you try to fly you shall be changed into +your former self.” + +“Oh, what a shame that bright feathers cannot fly into the sky!” cried +the peacock. Already he grew restless. He longed to soar through space. +He yearned to fly above the trees high upward to the sun. + +“Oh, there I see a flock of birds flying thither! Oh! oh!” said he, +flapping his wings, “I must try my wings! I am tired of bright tail +feathers. I want to try my wings.” + +“No, no!” clucked the elder bird. The flock of chattering birds flew by +with whirring wings. “Oop! oop!” called some to their mates. + +Possessed by an irrepressible impulse the Iktomi peacock called out, +“He! I want to come! Wait for me!” and with that he gave a lunge into +the air. The flock of flying feathers wheeled about and lowered over the +tree whence came the peacock's cry. Only one rare bird sat on the tree, +and beneath, on the ground, stood a brave in brown buckskins. + +“I am my old self again!” groaned Iktomi in a sad voice. “Make me over, +pretty bird. Try me this once again!” he pleaded in vain. + +“Old Iktomi wants to fly! Ah! We cannot wait for him!” sang the birds as +they flew away. + +Muttering unhappy vows to himself, Iktomi had not gone far when he +chanced upon a bunch of long slender arrows. One by one they rose in the +air and shot a straight line over the prairie. Others shot up into the +blue sky and were soon lost to sight. Only one was left. He was making +ready for his flight when Iktomi rushed upon him and wailed, “I want +to be an arrow! Make me into an arrow! I want to pierce the blue Blue +overhead. I want to strike yonder summer sun in its center. Make me into +an arrow!” + +“Can you keep a condition? One condition, though hard it be?” the arrow +turned to ask. + +“Yes! Yes!” shouted Iktomi, delighted. + +Hereupon the slender arrow tapped him gently with his sharp flint beak. +There was no Iktomi, but two arrows stood ready to fly. “Now, young +arrow, this is the one condition. Your flight must always be in a +straight line. Never turn a curve nor jump about like a young fawn,” + said the arrow magician. He spoke slowly and sternly. + +At once he set about to teach the new arrow how to shoot in a long +straight line. + +“This is the way to pierce the Blue overhead,” said he; and off he spun +high into the sky. + +While he was gone a herd of deer came trotting by. Behind them played +the young fawns together. They frolicked about like kittens. They +bounced on all fours like balls. Then they pitched forward, kicking +their heels in the air. The Iktomi arrow watched them so happy on the +ground. Looking quickly up into the sky, he said in his heart, “The +magician is out of sight. I'll just romp and frolic with these fawns +until he returns. Fawns! Friends, do not fear me. I want to jump and +leap with you. I long to be happy as you are,” said he. The young fawns +stopped with stiff legs and stared at the speaking arrow with large +brown wondering eyes. “See! I can jump as well as you!” went on Iktomi. +He gave one tiny leap like a fawn. All of a sudden the fawns snorted +with extended nostrils at what they beheld. There among them stood +Iktomi in brown buckskins, and the strange talking arrow was gone. + +“Oh! I am myself. My old self!” cried Iktomi, pinching himself and +plucking imaginary pieces out of his jacket. + +“Hin-hin-hin! I wanted to fly!” + +The real arrow now returned to the earth. He alighted very near Iktomi. +From the high sky he had seen the fawns playing on the green. He had +seen Iktomi make his one leap, and the charm was broken. Iktomi became +his former self. + +“Arrow, my friend, change me once more!” begged Iktomi. + +“No, no more,” replied the arrow. Then away he shot through the air in +the direction his comrades had flown. + +By this time the fawns gathered close around Iktomi. They poked their +noses at him trying to know who he was. + +Iktomi's tears were like a spring shower. A new desire dried them +quickly away. Stepping boldly to the largest fawn, he looked closely at +the little brown spots all over the furry face. + +“Oh, fawn! What beautiful brown spots on your face! Fawn, dear little +fawn, can you tell me how those brown spots were made on your face?” + +“Yes,” said the fawn. “When I was very, very small, my mother marked +them on my face with a red hot fire. She dug a large hole in the ground +and made a soft bed of grass and twigs in it. Then she placed me gently +there. She covered me over with dry sweet grass and piled dry cedars on +top. From a neighbor's fire she brought hither a red, red ember. This +she tucked carefully in at my head. This is how the brown spots were +made on my face.” + +“Now, fawn, my friend, will you do the same for me? Won't you mark my +face with brown, brown spots just like yours?” asked Iktomi, always +eager to be like other people. + +“Yes. I can dig the ground and fill it with dry grass and sticks. If +you will jump into the pit, I'll cover you with sweet smelling grass and +cedar wood,” answered the fawn. + +“Say,” interrupted Ikto, “will you be sure to cover me with a great deal +of dry grass and twigs? You will make sure that the spots will be as +brown as those you wear.” + +“Oh, yes. I'll pile up grass and willows once oftener than my mother +did.” + +“Now let us dig the hole, pull the grass, and gather sticks,” cried +Iktomi in glee. + +Thus with his own hands he aids in making his grave. After the hole was +dug and cushioned with grass, Iktomi, muttering something about brown +spots, leaped down into it. Lengthwise, flat on his back, he lay. While +the fawn covered him over with cedars, a far-away voice came up through +them, “Brown, brown spots to wear forever!” A red ember was tucked under +the dry grass. Off scampered the fawns after their mothers; and when a +great distance away they looked backward. They saw a blue smoke rising, +writhing upward till it vanished in the blue ether. + +“Is that Iktomi's spirit?” asked one fawn of another. + +“No! I think he would jump out before he could burn into smoke and +cinders,” answered his comrade. + + + + +THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + +ON the edge of a forest there lived a large family of badgers. In the +ground their dwelling was made. Its walls and roof were covered with +rocks and straw. + +Old father badger was a great hunter. He knew well how to track the deer +and buffalo. Every day he came home carrying on his back some wild game. +This kept mother badger very busy, and the baby badgers very chubby. +While the well-fed children played about, digging little make-believe +dwellings, their mother hung thin sliced meats upon long willow racks. +As fast as the meats were dried and seasoned by sun and wind, she packed +them carefully away in a large thick bag. + +This bag was like a huge stiff envelope, but far more beautiful to see, +for it was painted all over with many bright colors. These firmly +tied bags of dried meat were laid upon the rocks in the walls of the +dwelling. In this way they were both useful and decorative. + +One day father badger did not go off for a hunt. He stayed at home, +making new arrows. His children sat about him on the ground floor. Their +small black eyes danced with delight as they watched the gay colors +painted upon the arrows. + +All of a sudden there was heard a heavy footfall near the entrance way. +The oval-shaped door-frame was pushed aside. In stepped a large black +foot with great big claws. Then the other clumsy foot came next. All the +while the baby badgers stared hard at the unexpected comer. After the +second foot, in peeped the head of a big black bear! His black nose was +dry and parched. Silently he entered the dwelling and sat down on the +ground by the doorway. His black eyes never left the painted bags on +the rocky walls. He guessed what was in them. He was a very hungry bear. +Seeing the racks of red meat hanging in the yard, he had come to visit +the badger family. + +Though he was a stranger and his strong paws and jaws frightened the +small badgers, the father said, “How, how, friend! Your lips and nose +look feverish and hungry. Will you eat with us?” + +“Yes, my friend,” said the bear. “I am starved. I saw your racks of red +fresh meat, and knowing your heart is kind, I came hither. Give me meat +to eat, my friend.” + +Hereupon the mother badger took long strides across the room, and as she +had to pass in front of the strange visitor, she said: “Ah han! Allow me +to pass!” which was an apology. + +“How, how!” replied the bear, drawing himself closer to the wall and +crossing his shins together. + +Mother badger chose the most tender red meat, and soon over a bed of +coals she broiled the venison. + +That day the bear had all he could eat. At nightfall he rose, and +smacking his lips together,--that is the noisy way of saying “the food +was very good!”--he left the badger dwelling. The baby badgers, peeping +through the door-flap after the shaggy bear, saw him disappear into the +woods near by. + +Day after day the crackling of twigs in the forest told of heavy +footsteps. Out would come the same black bear. He never lifted the +door-flap, but thrusting it aside entered slowly in. Always in the same +place by the entrance way he sat down with crossed shins. + +His daily visits were so regular that mother badger placed a fur rug in +his place. She did not wish a guest in her dwelling to sit upon the bare +hard ground. + +At last one time when the bear returned, his nose was bright and black. +His coat was glossy. He had grown fat upon the badger's hospitality. + +As he entered the dwelling a pair of wicked gleams shot out of his +shaggy head. Surprised by the strange behavior of the guest who remained +standing upon the rug, leaning his round back against the wall, father +badger queried: “How, my friend! What?” + +The bear took one stride forward and shook his paw in the badger's face. +He said: “I am strong, very strong!” + +“Yes, yes, so you are,” replied the badger. From the farther end of the +room mother badger muttered over her bead work: “Yes, you grew strong +from our well-filled bowls.” + +The bear smiled, showing a row of large sharp teeth. + +“I have no dwelling. I have no bags of dried meat. I have no arrows. All +these I have found here on this spot,” said he, stamping his heavy foot. +“I want them! See! I am strong!” repeated he, lifting both his terrible +paws. + +Quietly the father badger spoke: “I fed you. I called you friend, though +you came here a stranger and a beggar. For the sake of my little ones +leave us in peace.” + +Mother badger, in her excited way, had pierced hard through the buckskin +and stuck her fingers repeatedly with her sharp awl until she had laid +aside her work. Now, while her husband was talking to the bear, she +motioned with her hands to the children. On tiptoe they hastened to her +side. + +For reply came a low growl. It grew louder and more fierce. “Wa-ough!” + he roared, and by force hurled the badgers out. First the father badger; +then the mother. The little badgers he tossed by pairs. He threw them +hard upon the ground. Standing in the entrance way and showing his ugly +teeth, he snarled, “Be gone!” + +The father and mother badger, having gained their feet, picked up +their kicking little babes, and, wailing aloud, drew the air into their +flattened lungs till they could stand alone upon their feet. No sooner +had the baby badgers caught their breath than they howled and shrieked +with pain and fright. Ah! what a dismal cry was theirs as the whole +badger family went forth wailing from out their own dwelling! A little +distance away from their stolen house the father badger built a small +round hut. He made it of bent willows and covered it with dry grass and +twigs. + +This was shelter for the night; but alas! it was empty of food and +arrows. All day father badger prowled through the forest, but without +his arrows he could not get food for his children. Upon his return, the +cry of the little ones for meat, the sad quiet of the mother with bowed +head, hurt him like a poisoned arrow wound. + +“I'll beg meat for you!” said he in an unsteady voice. Covering his +head and entire body in a long loose robe he halted beside the big black +bear. The bear was slicing red meat to hang upon the rack. He did not +pause for a look at the comer. As the badger stood there unrecognized, +he saw that the bear had brought with him his whole family. Little cubs +played under the high-hanging new meats. They laughed and pointed with +their wee noses upward at the thin sliced meats upon the poles. + +“Have you no heart, Black Bear? My children are starving. Give me a +small piece of meat for them,” begged the badger. + +“Wa-ough!” growled the angry bear, and pounced upon the badger. “Be +gone!” said he, and with his big hind foot he sent father badger +sprawling on the ground. + +All the little ruffian bears hooted and shouted “ha-ha!” to see the +beggar fall upon his face. There was one, however, who did not even +smile. He was the youngest cub. His fur coat was not as black and glossy +as those his elders wore. The hair was dry and dingy. It looked much +more like kinky wool. He was the ugly cub. Poor little baby bear! he had +always been laughed at by his older brothers. He could not help being +himself. He could not change the differences between himself and his +brothers. Thus again, though the rest laughed aloud at the badger's +fall, he did not see the joke. His face was long and earnest. In his +heart he was sad to see the badgers crying and starving. In his breast +spread a burning desire to share his food with them. + +“I shall not ask my father for meat to give away. He would say 'No!' +Then my brothers would laugh at me,” said the ugly baby bear to himself. + +In an instant, as if his good intention had passed from him, he was +singing happily and skipping around his father at work. Singing in his +small high voice and dragging his feet in long strides after him, as if +a prankish spirit oozed out from his heels, he strayed off through the +tall grass. He was ambling toward the small round hut. When directly in +front of the entrance way, he made a quick side kick with his left hind +leg. Lo! there fell into the badger's hut a piece of fresh meat. It +was tough meat, full of sinews, yet it was the only piece he could take +without his father's notice. + +Thus having given meat to the hungry badgers, the ugly baby bear ran +quickly away to his father again. + +On the following day the father badger came back once more. He stood +watching the big bear cutting thin slices of meat. + +“Give--” he began, when the bear turning upon him with a growl, thrust +him cruelly aside. The badger fell on his hands. He fell where the grass +was wet with the blood of the newly carved buffalo. His keen starving +eyes caught sight of a little red clot lying bright upon the green. +Looking fearfully toward the bear and seeing his head was turned away, +he snatched up the small thick blood. Underneath his girdled blanket he +hid it in his hand. + +On his return to his family, he said within himself: “I'll pray the +Great Spirit to bless it.” Thus he built a small round lodge. Sprinkling +water upon the heated heap of sacred stones within, he made ready to +purge his body. “The buffalo blood, too, must be purified before I ask +a blessing upon it,” thought the badger. He carried it into the sacred +vapor lodge. After placing it near the sacred stones, he sat down beside +it. After a long silence, he muttered: “Great Spirit, bless this little +buffalo blood.” Then he arose, and with a quiet dignity stepped out of +the lodge. Close behind him some one followed. The badger turned to +look over his shoulder and to his great joy he beheld a Dakota brave +in handsome buckskins. In his hand he carried a magic arrow. Across his +back dangled a long fringed quiver. In answer to the badger's prayer, +the avenger had sprung from out the red globules. + +“My son!” exclaimed the badger with extended right hand. + +“How, father,” replied the brave; “I am your avenger!” + +Immediately the badger told the sad story of his hungry little ones and +the stingy bear. + +Listening closely the young man stood looking steadily upon the ground. + +At length the father badger moved away. + +“Where?” queried the avenger. + +“My son, we have no food. I am going again to beg for meat,” answered +the badger. + +“Then I go with you,” replied the young brave. This made the old badger +happy. He was proud of his son. He was delighted to be called “father” + by the first human creature. + +The bear saw the badger coming in the distance. He narrowed his eyes +at the tall stranger walking beside him. He spied the arrow. At once he +guessed it was the avenger of whom he had heard long, long ago. As they +approached, the bear stood erect with a hand on his thigh. He smiled +upon them. + +“How, badger, my friend! Here is my knife. Cut your favorite pieces from +the deer,” said he, holding out a long thin blade. + +“How!” said the badger eagerly. He wondered what had inspired the big +bear to such a generous deed. The young avenger waited till the badger +took the long knife in his hand. + +Gazing full into the black bear's face, he said: “I come to do justice. +You have returned only a knife to my poor father. Now return to him his +dwelling.” His voice was deep and powerful. In his black eyes burned a +steady fire. + +The long strong teeth of the bear rattled against each other, and his +shaggy body shook with fear. “Ahow!” cried he, as if he had been shot. +Running into the dwelling he gasped, breathless and trembling, “Come +out, all of you! This is the badger's dwelling. We must flee to the +forest for fear of the avenger who carries the magic arrow.” + +Out they hurried, all the bears, and disappeared into the woods. + +Singing and laughing, the badgers returned to their own dwelling. + +Then the avenger left them. + +“I go,” said he in parting, “over the earth.” + + + + +THE TREE-BOUND + + +IT was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low over the edge +of the green level land. A large yellow sun hung directly overhead. + +The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and sky with +sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow-breasted birdie--“Koda Ni +Dakota!” He insisted upon it. “Koda Ni Dakota!” which was “Friend, +you're a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!” Perchance the birdie meant +the avenger with the magic arrow, for there across the plain he strode. +He was handsome in his paint and feathers, proud with his great buckskin +quiver on his back and a long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp +of cone-shaped teepees he was going. There over the Indian village +hovered a large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every +morning rose this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and +spreading out his gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp +ground. Then it was that the people, terror-stricken, ran screaming +into their lodges. Covering their heads with their blankets, they sat +trembling with fear. No one dared to venture out till the red eagle had +disappeared beyond the west, where meet the blue and green. + +In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his warriors a +powerful marksman who could send a death arrow to the man-hungry bird. +At last to urge his men to their utmost skill he bade his crier proclaim +a new reward. + +Of the chieftain's two beautiful daughters he would have his choice who +brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its breast. + +Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young and old, +both heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the contest. At gray +dawn there stood indistinct under the shadow of the bluff many human +figures; silent as ghosts and wrapped in robes girdled tight about their +waists, they waited with chosen bow and arrow. + +Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They crouched low +upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed upon the top of the +high bluff. Breathless they watched for the soaring of the red eagle. + +From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small holes in +the front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and hard-set teeth, +the women peered out upon the Dakota men prowling about with bows and +arrows. + +At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern horizon at +the armed Dakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the edge of the cliff. +Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his neck and flapped his +strong wings together. Then he dived into the air. Slowly he winged his +way over the round camp ground; over the men with their strong bows and +arrows! In an instant the long bows were bent. Strong straight arrows +with red feathered tips sped upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved +those indifferent wings, untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to +the west beyond the reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red +eagle flew away. + +A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly stillness of +the dawn. The women talked excitedly about the invulnerable red of the +eagle's feathers, while the would-be heroes sulked within their wigwams. +“He-he-he!” groaned the chieftain. + +On the evening of the same day sat a group of hunters around a bright +burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man whom they spied +while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. They saw the stranger +taking aim. Following the point of his arrow with their eyes, they +beheld a herd of buffalo. The arrow sprang from the bow! It darted into +the skull of the foremost buffalo. But unlike other arrows it pierced +through the head of the creature and spinning in the air lit into the +next buffalo head. One by one the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they +were grazing. With straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides. The +young man stood calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they +dropped dead to the ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither and +picking up his magic arrow wiped it carefully on the soft grass. He +slipped it into his long fringed quiver. + +“He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or beasts!” + cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away. + +They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow. When the +hunter's tale of the stranger's arrow reached the ears of the chieftain, +his face brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet horsemen, to learn +of him his birth, his name, and his deeds. + +“If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the earth out +of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him kill the red +eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself one of my beautiful +daughters,” he had said to his messengers, for the old story of the +badger's man-son was known all over the level lands. + +After four days and nights the braves returned. “He is coming,” they +said. “We have seen him. He is straight and tall; handsome in face, with +large black eyes. He paints his round cheeks with bright red, and wears +the penciled lines of red over his temples like our men of honored rank. +He carries on his back a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic +arrow. His bow is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red +eagle.” All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words +of the returned messengers. + +Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the brown +burnt spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was filled with a +new desire. “If only I had the magic arrow, I would kill the red eagle +and win the chieftain's daughter for a wife,” said he in his heart. + +Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in front of his +teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his drawn-up knees. His +keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was watching for the avenger. + +“'He is coming!' said the people,” muttered old Iktomi. All of a sudden +he raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into the west. The +summer sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless sky. There across +the green prairie was a man walking bareheaded toward the east. + +“Ha! ha! 'tis he! the man with the magic arrow!” laughed Iktomi. And +when the bird with the yellow breast sang loud again--“Koda Ni Dakota! +Friend, you're a Dakota!” Iktomi put his hand over his mouth as he threw +his head far backward, laughing at both the bird and man. + +“He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! He is a +Dakota, but soon he'll grow into the bark on this tree! Ha! ha! ha!” he +laughed again. + +The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and nearer toward +the lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! swish! of the +stranger's feet through the tall grass. He was passing now beyond the +tree, when Iktomi, springing to his feet, called out: “How, how, my +friend! I see you are dressed in handsome deerskins and have red paint +on your cheeks. You are going to some feast or dance, may I ask?” Seeing +the young man only smiled Iktomi went on: “I have not had a mouthful of +food this day. Have pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for +me!” With these words Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat +a bird on the highest branch. The young avenger, always ready to help +those in distress, sent an arrow upward and the bird fell. In the next +branch it was caught between the forked prongs. + +“My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb so high. I +would get dizzy and fall,” pleaded Iktomi. The avenger began to scale +the tree, when Iktomi cried to him: “My friend, your beaded buckskins +may be torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon the grass till you are +down again.” + +“You are right,” replied the young man, quickly slipping off his +long fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and tinkling +ornaments, he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the tree +unhindered. Soon from the top he took the bird. “My friend, toss to +me your arrow that I may have the honor of wiping it clean on soft +deerskin!” exclaimed Iktomi. + +“How!” said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the ground. + +At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the grass and then +on a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words all the while. +The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb, hearing the low +muttering, said: “Iktomi, I cannot hear what you say!” + +“Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart.” + +Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition of charm +words. “Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree,” he whispered. +Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly dropping the arrow +and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: “Grow fast to the bark of the +tree!” Before the brave could leap from the tree he became tight-grown +to the bark. + +“Ah! ha!” laughed the bad Iktomi. “I have the magic arrow! I have the +beaded buckskins of the great avenger!” Hooting and dancing beneath the +tree, he said: “I shall kill the red eagle; I shall wed the chieftain's +beautiful daughter!” + +“Oh, Iktomi, set me free!” begged the tree-bound Dakota brave. But +Iktomi's ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did not hear with them. + +Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic arrow in +his right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the swaying strides +of the avenger, he walked away with a face turned slightly skyward. + +“Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! Cut me +loose!” moaned the prisoner. + +A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly bound +willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard the wailing +man's voice. She paused to listen to the sad words. Looking around she +saw nowhere a human creature. “It may be a spirit,” thought she. + +“Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! He has made +me bark of his tree!” cried the voice again. + +The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. With her +stone axe she hurried to the tree. There before her astonished eyes +clung a young brave close to the tree. + +Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger +tree-bound, she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she drew +it to the ground. With it came the young man also. Free once more, he +started away. Looking backward, a few paces from the young woman, he +waved his hand, upward and downward, before her face. This was a sign of +gratitude used when words failed to interpret strong emotion. + +When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a pony and +rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground in the east, to +the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she carried her story. + + + + +SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + + +A MAN in buckskins sat upon the top of a little hillock. The setting sun +shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand. His face was turned toward +the round camp ground at the foot of the hill. He had walked a long +journey hither. He was waiting for the chieftain's men to spy him. + +Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward the +hillock, where sat the man with the long bow. + +“He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle,” cried the runners to +each other as they bent forward swinging their elbows together. + +They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed them. Proud +and silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams beneath him. Spreading +a handsomely decorated buffalo robe before the man, two of the warriors +lifted him by each shoulder and placed him gently on it. Then the four +men took, each, a corner of the blanket and carried the stranger, with +long proud steps, toward the chieftain's teepee. + +Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the entrance +way. “How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!” said he, extending +to him a smooth soft hand. + +“How, great chieftain!” replied the man, holding long the chieftain's +hand. Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the young man to the +right side of the doorway, while he sat down opposite him with a center +fire burning between them. Wordless, like a bashful Indian maid, the +avenger ate in silence the food set before him on the ground in front +of his crossed shins. When he had finished his meal he handed the empty +bowl to the chieftain's wife, saying, “Mother-in-law, here is your +dish!” + +“Han, my son!” answered the woman, taking the bowl. + +With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in the least +too presuming in addressing the woman as his mother-in-law. + +Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket and soon +within the chieftain's teepee he lay fast asleep. + +“The young man is not handsome after all!” whispered the woman in her +husband's ear. + +“Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem handsome +enough!” answered the chieftain. + +That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky reached +the low northern horizon, before the center fires within the teepees +had flickered out. The ringing laughter which had floated up through +the smoke lapels was now hushed, and only the distant howling of wolves +broke the quiet of the village. But the lull between midnight and dawn +was short indeed. Very early the oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust +aside and many brown faces peered out of the wigwams toward the top of +the highest bluff. + +Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger stood ready +within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle. He appeared, +that terrible bird! He hovered over the round village as if he could +pounce down upon it and devour the whole tribe. + +When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers thrust a +hand quickly over their half-uttered “hinnu!” The second and the third +arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red eagle soaring with +lazy indifference over the little man with the long bow. All his arrows +he spent in vain. “Ah! my blanket brushed my elbow and shifted the +course of my arrow!” said the stranger as the people gathered around +him. + +During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at the +chieftain's teepee. It was no other than the young woman who cut loose +the tree-bound captive! + +While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast face. “I +passed him on my way. He is near!” she ended. + +Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the chieftain +snapped fire like red cinders in the night time. His lips were closed. +At length to the woman he said: “How, you have done me a good deed.” + Then with quick decision he gave command to a fleet horseman to meet the +avenger. “Clothe him in these my best buckskins,” said he, pointing to a +bundle within the wigwam. + +In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi and dragged him by his long +hair to the hilltop. There upon a mock-pillared grave they bound him +hand and feet. Grown-ups and children sneered and hooted at Iktomi's +disgrace. For a half-day he lay there, the laughing-stock of the people. +Upon the arrival of the real avenger, Iktomi was released and chased +away beyond the outer limits of the camp ground. + +On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of half-open +door-flaps. + +There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in beaded +buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped arrow. Again the +big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. He plumed his feathers +and flapped his huge wings. + +The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow on the +bow, drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle. + +The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, two, three +times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height and fell heavily +to the earth. An arrow stuck in his breast! He was dead! + +So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that no one had +seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow. + +In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the avenger, +plucking a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, a loud shout +of the people went up to the sky. Then hither and thither ran singing +men and women making a great feast for the avenger. + +Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of telling to +her children the story of the big red eagle. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + + +THE huntsman Patkasa (turtle) stood bent over a newly slain deer. + +The red-tipped arrow he drew from the wounded deer was unlike the arrows +in his own quiver. Another's stray shot had killed the deer. Patkasa had +hunted all the morning without so much as spying an ordinary blackbird. + +At last returning homeward, tired and heavy-hearted that he had no meat +for the hungry mouths in his wigwam, he walked slowly with downcast +eyes. Kind ghosts pitied the unhappy hunter and led him to the newly +slain deer, that his children should not cry for food. + +When Patkasa stumbled upon the deer in his path, he exclaimed: “Good +spirits have pushed me hither!” + +Thus he leaned long over the gift of the friendly ghosts. + +“How, my friend!” said a voice behind his ear, and a hand fell on his +shoulder. It was not a spirit this time. It was old Iktomi. + +“How, Iktomi!” answered Patkasa, still stooping over the deer. + +“My friend, you are a skilled hunter,” began Iktomi, smiling a thin +smile which spread from one ear to the other. + +Suddenly raising up his head Patkasa's black eyes twinkled as he asked: +“Oh, you really say so?” + +“Yes, my friend, you are a skillful fellow. Now let us have a little +contest. Let us see who can jump over the deer without touching a hair +on his hide,” suggested Iktomi. + +“Oh, I fear I cannot do it!” cried Patkasa, rubbing his funny, thick +palms together. + +“Have no coward's doubt, Patkasa. I say you are a skillful fellow who +finds nothing hard to do.” With these words Iktomi led Patkasa a short +distance away. In little puffs Patkasa laughed uneasily. + +“Now, you may jump first,” said Iktomi. + +Patkasa, with doubled fists, swung his fat arms to and fro, all the +while biting hard his under lip. + +Just before the run and leap Iktomi put in: “Let the winner have the +deer to eat!” + +It was too late now to say no. Patkasa was more afraid of being called +a coward than of losing the deer. “Ho-wo,” he replied, still working his +short arms. At length he started off on the run. So quick and small were +his steps that he seemed to be kicking the ground only. Then the leap! +But Patkasa tripped upon a stick and fell hard against the side of the +deer. + +“He-he-he!” exclaimed Iktomi, pretending disappointment that his friend +had fallen. + +Lifting him to his feet, he said: “Now it is my turn to try the high +jump!” Hardly was the last word spoken than Iktomi gave a leap high +above the deer. + +“The game is mine!” laughed he, patting the sullen Patkasa on the +back. “My friend, watch the deer while I go to bring my children,” said +Iktomi, darting lightly through the tall grass. + +Patkasa was always ready to believe the words of scheming people and to +do the little favors any one asked of him. However, on this occasion, +he did not answer “Yes, my friend.” He realized that Iktomi's flattering +tongue had made him foolish. + +He turned up his nose at Iktomi, now almost out of sight, as much as to +say: “Oh, no, Ikto; I do not hear your words!” + +Soon there came a murmur of voices. The sound of laughter grew louder +and louder. All of a sudden it became hushed. Old Iktomi led his young +Iktomi brood to the place where he had left the turtle, but it was +vacant. Nowhere was there any sign of Patkasa or the deer. Then the +babes did howl! + +“Be still!” said father Iktomi to his children. “I know where Patkasa +lives. Follow me. I shall take you to the turtle's dwelling.” He ran +along a narrow footpath toward the creek near by. Close upon his heels +came his children with tear-streaked faces. + +“There!” said Iktomi in a loud whisper as he gathered his little ones on +the bank. “There is Patkasa broiling venison! There is his teepee, and +the savory fire is in his front yard!” + +The young Iktomis stretched their necks and rolled their round black +eyes like newly hatched birds. They peered into the water. + +“Now, I will cool Patkasa's fire. I shall bring you the broiled venison. +Watch closely. When you see the black coals rise to the surface of the +water, clap your hands and shout aloud, for soon after that sign I shall +return to you with some tender meat.” + +Thus saying Iktomi plunged into the creek. Splash! splash! the water +leaped upward into spray. Scarcely had it become leveled and smooth +than there bubbled up many black spots. The creek was seething with the +dancing of round black things. + +“The cooled fire! The coals!” laughed the brood of Iktomis. Clapping +together their little hands, they chased one another along the edge of +the creek. They shouted and hooted with great glee. + +“Ahas!” said a gruff voice across the water. It was Patkasa. In a large +willow tree leaning far over the water he sat upon a large limb. On the +very same branch was a bright burning fire over which Patkasa broiled +the venison. By this time the water was calm again. No more danced those +black spots on its surface, for they were the toes of old Iktomi. He was +drowned. + +The Iktomi children hurried away from the creek, crying and calling for +their water-dead father. + + + + +DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + + +IT was night upon the prairie. Overhead the stars were twinkling bright +their red and yellow lights. The moon was young. A silvery thread among +the stars, it soon drifted low beneath the horizon. + +Upon the ground the land was pitchy black. There are night people on the +plain who love the dark. Amid the black level land they meet to frolic +under the stars. Then when their sharp ears hear any strange footfalls +nigh they scamper away into the deep shadows of night. There they are +safely hid from all dangers, they think. + +Thus it was that one very black night, afar off from the edge of the +level land, out of the wooded river bottom glided forth two balls of +fire. They came farther and farther into the level land. They grew +larger and brighter. The dark hid the body of the creature with those +fiery eyes. They came on and on, just over the tops of the prairie +grass. It might have been a wildcat prowling low on soft, stealthy feet. +Slowly but surely the terrible eyes drew nearer and nearer to the heart +of the level land. + +There in a huge old buffalo skull was a gay feast and dance! Tiny little +field mice were singing and dancing in a circle to the boom-boom of a +wee, wee drum. They were laughing and talking among themselves while +their chosen singers sang loud a merry tune. + +They built a small open fire within the center of their queer dance +house. The light streamed out of the buffalo skull through all the +curious sockets and holes. + +A light on the plain in the middle of the night was an unusual thing. +But so merry were the mice they did not hear the “king, king” of sleepy +birds, disturbed by the unaccustomed fire. + +A pack of wolves, fearing to come nigh this night fire, stood together +a little distance away, and, turning their pointed noses to the stars, +howled and yelped most dismally. Even the cry of the wolves was unheeded +by the mice within the lighted buffalo skull. + +They were feasting and dancing; they were singing and laughing--those +funny little furry fellows. + +All the while across the dark from out the low river bottom came that +pair of fiery eyes. + +Now closer and more swift, now fiercer and glaring, the eyes moved +toward the buffalo skull. All unconscious of those fearful eyes, the +happy mice nibbled at dried roots and venison. The singers had started +another song. The drummers beat the time, turning their heads from +side to side in rhythm. In a ring around the fire hopped the mice, each +bouncing hard on his two hind feet. Some carried their tails over their +arms, while others trailed them proudly along. + +Ah, very near are those round yellow eyes! Very low to the ground they +seem to creep--creep toward the buffalo skull. All of a sudden they +slide into the eye-sockets of the old skull. + +“Spirit of the buffalo!” squeaked a frightened mouse as he jumped out +from a hole in the back part of the skull. + +“A cat! a cat!” cried other mice as they scrambled out of holes both +large and snug. Noiseless they ran away into the dark. + + + + +THE TOAD AND THE BOY + + +THE water-fowls were flying over the marshy lakes. It was now the +hunting season. Indian men, with bows and arrows, were wading waist +deep amid the wild rice. Near by, within their wigwams, the wives were +roasting wild duck and making down pillows. + +In the largest teepee sat a young mother wrapping red porcupine +quills about the long fringes of a buckskin cushion. Beside her lay a +black-eyed baby boy cooing and laughing. Reaching and kicking upward +with his tiny hands and feet, he played with the dangling strings of his +heavy-beaded bonnet hanging empty on a tent pole above him. + +At length the mother laid aside her red quills and white sinew-threads. +The babe fell fast asleep. Leaning on one hand and softly whispering +a little lullaby, she threw a light cover over her baby. It was almost +time for the return of her husband. + +Remembering there were no willow sticks for the fire, she quickly +girdled her blanket tight about her waist, and with a short-handled ax +slipped through her belt, she hurried away toward the wooded ravine. She +was strong and swung an ax as skillfully as any man. Her loose buckskin +dress was made for such freedom. Soon carrying easily a bundle of long +willows on her back, with a loop of rope over both her shoulders, she +came striding homeward. + +Near the entrance way she stooped low, at once shifting the bundle to +the right and with both hands lifting the noose from over her head. +Having thus dropped the wood to the ground, she disappeared into her +teepee. In a moment she came running out again, crying, “My son! My +little son is gone!” Her keen eyes swept east and west and all around +her. There was nowhere any sign of the child. + +Running with clinched fists to the nearest teepees, she called: “Has any +one seen my baby? He is gone! My little son is gone!” + +“Hinnu! Hinnu!” exclaimed the women, rising to their feet and rushing +out of their wigwams. + +“We have not seen your child! What has happened?” queried the women. + +With great tears in her eyes the mother told her story. + +“We will search with you,” they said to her as she started off. + +They met the returning husbands, who turned about and joined in the +hunt for the missing child. Along the shore of the lakes, among the +high-grown reeds, they looked in vain. He was nowhere to be found. After +many days and nights the search was given up. It was sad, indeed, to +hear the mother wailing aloud for her little son. + +It was growing late in the autumn. The birds were flying high toward the +south. The teepees around the lakes were gone, save one lonely dwelling. + +Till the winter snow covered the ground and ice covered the lakes, the +wailing woman's voice was heard from that solitary wigwam. From some far +distance was also the sound of the father's voice singing a sad song. + +Thus ten summers and as many winters have come and gone since the +strange disappearance of the little child. Every autumn with the hunters +came the unhappy parents of the lost baby to search again for him. + +Toward the latter part of the tenth season when, one by one, the teepees +were folded and the families went away from the lake region, the mother +walked again along the lake shore weeping. One evening, across the lake +from where the crying woman stood, a pair of bright black eyes peered at +her through the tall reeds and wild rice. A little wild boy stopped his +play among the tall grasses. His long, loose hair hanging down his brown +back and shoulders was carelessly tossed from his round face. He wore a +loin cloth of woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the marshy ground, he +listened to the wailing voice. As the voice grew hoarse and only sobs +shook the slender figure of the woman, the eyes of the wild boy grew dim +and wet. + +At length, when the moaning ceased, he sprang to his feet and ran like a +nymph with swift outstretched toes. He rushed into a small hut of reeds +and grasses. + +“Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice it was I heard which pleased my +ears, but made my eyes grow wet!” said he, breathless. + +“Han, my son,” grunted a big, ugly toad. “It was the voice of a weeping +woman you heard. My son, do not say you like it. Do not tell me it +brought tears to your eyes. You have never heard me weep. I can please +your ear and break your heart. Listen!” replied the great old toad. + +Stepping outside, she stood by the entrance way. She was old and badly +puffed out. She had reared a large family of little toads, but none +of them had aroused her love, nor ever grieved her. She had heard +the wailing human voice and marveled at the throat which produced the +strange sound. Now, in her great desire to keep the stolen boy awhile +longer, she ventured to cry as the Dakota woman does. In a gruff, coarse +voice she broke forth: + +“Hin-hin, doe-skin! Hin-hin, Ermine, Ermine! Hin-hin, red blanket, with +white border!” + +Not knowing that the syllables of a Dakota's cry are the names of loved +ones gone, the ugly toad mother sought to please the boy's ear with the +names of valuable articles. Having shrieked in a torturing voice and +mouthed extravagant names, the old toad rolled her tearless eyes with +great satisfaction. Hopping back into her dwelling, she asked: + +“My son, did my voice bring tears to your eyes? Did my words bring +gladness to your ears? Do you not like my wailing better?” + +“No, no!” pouted the boy with some impatience. “I want to hear the +woman's voice! Tell me, mother, why the human voice stirs all my +feelings!” + +The toad mother said within her breast, “The human child has heard and +seen his real mother. I cannot keep him longer, I fear. Oh, no, I cannot +give away the pretty creature I have taught to call me 'mother' all +these many winters.” + +“Mother,” went on the child voice, “tell me one thing. Tell me why my +little brothers and sisters are all unlike me.” + +The big, ugly toad, looking at her pudgy children, said: “The eldest is +always best.” + +This reply quieted the boy for a while. Very closely watched the old +toad mother her stolen human son. When by chance he started off alone, +she shoved out one of her own children after him, saying: “Do not come +back without your big brother.” + +Thus the wild boy with the long, loose hair sits every day on a marshy +island hid among the tall reeds. But he is not alone. Always at his feet +hops a little toad brother. One day an Indian hunter, wading in the deep +waters, spied the boy. He had heard of the baby stolen long ago. + +“This is he!” murmured the hunter to himself as he ran to his wigwam. “I +saw among the tall reeds a black-haired boy at play!” shouted he to the +people. + +At once the unhappy father and mother cried out, “'Tis he, our boy!” + Quickly he led them to the lake. Peeping through the wild rice, he +pointed with unsteady finger toward the boy playing all unawares. + +“'Tis he! 'tis he!” cried the mother, for she knew him. + +In silence the hunter stood aside, while the happy father and mother +caressed their baby boy grown tall. + + + + +IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + + +FROM the tall grass came the voice of a crying babe. The huntsmen who +were passing nigh heard and halted. + +The tallest one among them hastened toward the high grass with long, +cautious strides. He waded through the growth of green with just a head +above it all. Suddenly exclaiming “Hunhe!” he dropped out of sight. In +another instant he held up in both his hands a tiny little baby, wrapped +in soft brown buckskins. + +“Oh ho, a wood-child!” cried the men, for they were hunting along the +wooded river bottom where this babe was found. + +While the hunters were questioning whether or no they should carry it +home, the wee Indian baby kept up his little howl. + +“His voice is strong!” said one. + +“At times it sounds like an old man's voice!” whispered a superstitious +fellow, who feared some bad spirit hid in the small child to cheat them +by and by. + +“Let us take it to our wise chieftain,” at length they said; and the +moment they started toward the camp ground the strange wood-child ceased +to cry. + +Beside the chieftain's teepee waited the hunters while the tall man +entered with the child. + +“How! how!” nodded the kind-faced chieftain, listening to the queer +story. Then rising, he took the infant in his strong arms; gently he +laid the black-eyed babe in his daughter's lap. “This is to be your +little son!” said he, smiling. + +“Yes, father,” she replied. Pleased with the child, she smoothed the +long black hair fringing his round brown face. + +“Tell the people that I give a feast and dance this day for the naming +of my daughter's little son,” bade the chieftain. + +In the meanwhile among the men waiting by the entrance way, one said in +a low voice: “I have heard that bad spirits come as little children into +a camp which they mean to destroy.” + +“No! no! Let us not be overcautious. It would be cowardly to leave +a baby in the wild wood where prowl the hungry wolves!” answered an +elderly man. + +The tall man now came out of the chieftain's teepee. With a word he sent +them to their dwellings half running with joy. + +“A feast! a dance for the naming of the chieftain's grandchild!” cried +he in a loud voice to the village people. + +“What? what?” asked they in great surprise, holding a hand to the ear to +catch the words of the crier. + +There was a momentary silence among the people while they listened to +the ringing voice of the man walking in the center ground. Then broke +forth a rippling, laughing babble among the cone-shaped teepees. All +were glad to hear of the chieftain's grandson. They were happy to attend +the feast and dance for its naming. With excited fingers they twisted +their hair into glossy braids and painted their cheeks with bright red +paint. To and fro hurried the women, handsome in their gala-day dress. +Men in loose deerskins, with long tinkling metal fringes, strode in +small numbers toward the center of the round camp ground. + +Here underneath a temporary shade-house of green leaves they were to +dance and feast. The children in deerskins and paints, just like their +elders, were jolly little men and women. Beside their eager parents they +skipped along toward the green dance house. + +Here seated in a large circle, the people were assembled, the proud +chieftain rose with the little baby in his arms. The noisy hum of voices +was hushed. Not a tinkling of a metal fringe broke the silence. The +crier came forward to greet the chieftain, then bent attentively over +the small babe, listening to the words of the chieftain. When he paused +the crier spoke aloud to the people: + +“This woodland child is adopted by the chieftain's eldest daughter. His +name is Chaske. He wears the title of the eldest son. In honor of Chaske +the chieftain gives this feast and dance! These are the words of him you +see holding a baby in his arms.” + +“Yes! Yes! Hinnu! How!” came from the circle. At once the drummers beat +softly and slowly their drum while the chosen singers hummed together to +find the common pitch. The beat of the drum grew louder and faster. The +singers burst forth in a lively tune. Then the drumbeats subsided and +faintly marked the rhythm of the singing. Here and there bounced up men +and women, both young and old. They danced and sang with merry light +hearts. Then came the hour of feasting. + +Late into the night the air of the camp ground was alive with the +laughing voices of women and the singing in unison of young men. Within +her father's teepee sat the chieftain's daughter. Proud of her little +one, she watched over him asleep in her lap. + +Gradually a deep quiet stole over the camp ground, as one by one the +people fell into pleasant dreams. Now all the village was still. Alone +sat the beautiful young mother watching the babe in her lap, asleep with +a gaping little mouth. Amid the quiet of the night, her ear heard the +far-off hum of many voices. The faint sound of murmuring people was in +the air. Upward she glanced at the smoke hole of the wigwam and saw +a bright star peeping down upon her. “Spirits in the air above?” she +wondered. Yet there was no sign to tell her of their nearness. The fine +small sound of voices grew larger and nearer. + +“Father! rise! I hear the coming of some tribe. Hostile or friendly--I +cannot tell. Rise and see!” whispered the young woman. + +“Yes, my daughter!” answered the chieftain, springing to his feet. + +Though asleep, his ear was ever alert. Thus rushing out into the open, +he listened for strange sounds. With an eagle eye he scanned the camp +ground for some sign. + +Returning he said: “My daughter, I hear nothing and see no sign of evil +nigh.” + +“Oh! the sound of many voices comes up from the earth about me!” + exclaimed the young mother. + +Bending low over her babe she gave ear to the ground. Horrified was she +to find the mysterious sound came out of the open mouth of her sleeping +child! + +“Why so unlike other babes!” she cried within her heart as she slipped +him gently from her lap to the ground. “Mother, listen and tell me if +this child is an evil spirit come to destroy our camp!” she whispered +loud. + +Placing an ear close to the open baby mouth, the chieftain and his wife, +each in turn heard the voices of a great camp. The singing of men and +women, the beating of the drum, the rattling of deer-hoofs strung like +bells on a string, these were the sounds they heard. + +“We must go away,” said the chieftain, leading them into the night. +Out in the open he whispered to the frightened young woman: “Iya, the +camp-eater, has come in the guise of a babe. Had you gone to sleep, he +would have jumped out into his own shape and would have devoured our +camp. He is a giant with spindling legs. He cannot fight, for he cannot +run. He is powerful only in the night with his tricks. We are safe as +soon as day breaks.” Then moving closer to the woman, he whispered: “If +he wakes now, he will swallow the whole tribe with one hideous gulp! +Come, we must flee with our people.” + +Thus creeping from teepee to teepee a secret alarm signal was given. At +midnight the teepees were gone and there was left no sign of the village +save heaps of dead ashes. So quietly had the people folded their wigwams +and bundled their tent poles that they slipped away unheard by the +sleeping Iya babe. + +When the morning sun arose, the babe awoke. Seeing himself deserted, he +threw off his baby form in a hot rage. + +Wearing his own ugly shape, his huge body toppled to and fro, from side +to side, on a pair of thin legs far too small for their burden. Though +with every move he came dangerously nigh to falling, he followed in the +trail of the fleeing people. + +“I shall eat you in the sight of a noon-day sun!” cried Iya in his vain +rage, when he spied them encamped beyond a river. + +By some unknown cunning he swam the river and sought his way toward the +teepees. + +“Hin! hin!” he grunted and growled. With perspiration beading his brow +he strove to wiggle his slender legs beneath his giant form. + +“Ha! ha!” laughed all the village people to see Iya made foolish with +anger. “Such spindle legs cannot stand to fight by daylight!” shouted +the brave ones who were terror-struck the night before by the name +“Iya.” + +Warriors with long knives rushed forth and slew the camp-eater. + +Lo! there rose out of the giant a whole Indian tribe: their camp ground, +their teepees in a large circle, and the people laughing and dancing. + +“We are glad to be free!” said these strange people. + +Thus Iya was killed; and no more are the camp grounds in danger of being +swallowed up in a single night time. + + + + +MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + + +MANSTIN was an adventurous brave, but very kind-hearted. Stamping +a moccasined foot as he drew on his buckskin leggins, he said: +“Grandmother, beware of Iktomi! Do not let him lure you into some +cunning trap. I am going to the North country on a long hunt.” + +With these words of caution to the bent old rabbit grandmother with whom +he had lived since he was a tiny babe, Manstin started off toward +the north. He was scarce over the great high hills when he heard the +shrieking of a human child. + +“Wan!” he ejaculated, pointing his long ears toward the direction of the +sound; “Wan! that is the work of cruel Double-Face. Shameless coward! he +delights in torturing helpless creatures!” + +Muttering indistinct words, Manstin ran up the last hill and lo! in the +ravine beyond stood the terrible monster with a face in front and one in +the back of his head! + +This brown giant was without clothes save for a wild-cat-skin about his +loins. With a wicked gleaming eye, he watched the little black-haired +baby he held in his strong arm. In a laughing voice he hummed an Indian +mother's lullaby, “A-boo! Aboo!” and at the same time he switched the +naked baby with a thorny wild-rose bush. + +Quickly Manstin jumped behind a large sage bush on the brow of the hill. +He bent his bow and the sinewy string twanged. Now an arrow stuck above +the ear of Double-Face. It was a poisoned arrow, and the giant fell +dead. Then Manstin took the little brown baby and hurried away from the +ravine. Soon he came to a teepee from whence loud wailing voices +broke. It was the teepee of the stolen baby and the mourners were its +heart-broken parents. + +When gallant Manstin returned the child to the eager arms of the mother +there came a sudden terror into the eyes of both the Dakotas. They +feared lest it was Double-Face come in a new guise to torture them. +The rabbit understood their fear and said: “I am Manstin, the +kind-hearted,--Manstin, the noted huntsman. I am your friend. Do not +fear.” + +That night a strange thing happened. While the father and mother slept, +Manstin took the wee baby. With his feet placed gently yet firmly upon +the tiny toes of the little child, he drew upward by each small hand the +sleeping child till he was a full-grown man. With a forefinger he traced +a slit in the upper lip; and when on the morrow the man and woman awoke +they could not distinguish their own son from Manstin, so much alike +were the braves. + +“Henceforth we are friends, to help each other,” said Manstin, shaking a +right hand in farewell. “The earth is our common ear, to carry from its +uttermost extremes one's slightest wish for the other!” + +“Ho! Be it so!” answered the newly made man. + +Upon leaving his friend, Manstin hurried away toward the North country +whither he was bound for a long hunt. Suddenly he came upon the edge of +a wide brook. His alert eye caught sight of a rawhide rope staked to the +water's brink, which led away toward a small round hut in the distance. +The ground was trodden into a deep groove beneath the loosely drawn +rawhide rope. + +“Hun-he!” exclaimed Manstin, bending over the freshly made footprints in +the moist bank of the brook. “A man's footprints!” he said to himself. +“A blind man lives in yonder hut! This rope is his guide by which he +comes for his daily water!” surmised Manstin, who knew all the peculiar +contrivances of the people. At once his eyes became fixed upon the +solitary dwelling and hither he followed his curiosity,--a real blind +man's rope. + +Quietly he lifted the door-flap and entered in. An old toothless +grandfather, blind and shaky with age, sat upon the ground. He was +not deaf however. He heard the entrance and felt the presence of some +stranger. + +“How, grandchild,” he mumbled, for he was old enough to be grandparent +to every living thing, “how! I cannot see you. Pray, speak your name!” + +“Grandfather, I am Manstin,” answered the rabbit, all the while looking +with curious eyes about the wigwam. + +“Grandfather, what is it so tightly packed in all these buckskin bags +placed against the tent poles?” he asked. + +“My grandchild, those are dried buffalo meat and venison. These are +magic bags which never grow empty. I am blind and cannot go on a hunt. +Hence a kind Maker has given me these magic bags of choicest foods.” + +Then the old, bent man pulled at a rope which lay by his right hand. +“This leads me to the brook where I drink! and this,” said he, turning +to the one on his left, “and this takes me into the forest, where I feel +about for dry sticks for my fire.” + +“Grandfather, I wish I lived in such sure luxury! I would lean back +against a tent pole, and with crossed feet I would smoke sweet willow +bark the rest of my days,” sighed Manstin. + +“My grandchild, your eyes are your luxury! you would be unhappy without +them!” the old man replied. + +“Grandfather, I would give you my two eyes for your place!” cried +Manstin. + +“How! you have said it. Arise. Take out your eyes and give them to me. +Henceforth you are at home here in my stead.” + +At once Manstin took out both his eyes and the old man put them on! +Rejoicing, the old grandfather started away with his young eyes while +the blind rabbit filled his dream pipe, leaning lazily against the tent +pole. For a short time it was a most pleasant pastime to smoke willow +bark and to eat from the magic bags. + +Manstin grew thirsty, but there was no water in the small dwelling. +Taking one of the rawhide ropes he started toward the brook to quench +his thirst. He was young and unwilling to trudge slowly in the old man's +footpath. He was full of glee, for it had been many long moons since he +had tasted such good food. Thus he skipped confidently along jerking the +old weather-eaten rawhide spasmodically till all of a sudden it gave way +and Manstin fell headlong into the water. + +“En! En!” he grunted kicking frantically amid stream. All along the +slippery bank he vainly tried to climb, till at last he chanced upon the +old stake and the deeply worn footpath. Exhausted and inwardly disgusted +with his mishaps, he crawled more cautiously on all fours to his wigwam +door. Dripping with his recent plunge he sat with chattering teeth +within his unfired wigwam. + +The sun had set and the night air was chilly, but there was no fire-wood +in the dwelling. “Hin!” murmured Manstin and bravely tried the other +rope. “I go for some fire-wood!” he said, following the rawhide rope +which led into the forest. Soon he stumbled upon thickly strewn dry +willow sticks. Eagerly with both hands he gathered the wood into his +outspread blanket. Manstin was naturally an energetic fellow. + +When he had a large heap, he tied two opposite ends of blanket +together and lifted the bundle of wood upon his back, but alas! he had +unconsciously dropped the end of the rope and now he was lost in the +wood! + +“Hin! hin!” he groaned. Then pausing a moment, he set his fan-like ears +to catch any sound of approaching footsteps. There was none. Not even a +night bird twittered to help him out of his predicament. + +With a bold face, he made a start at random. + +He fell into some tangled wood where he was held fast. Manstin let go +his bundle and began to lament having given away his two eyes. + +“Friend, my friend, I have need of you! The old oak tree grandfather +has gone off with my eyes and I am lost in the woods!” he cried with his +lips close to the earth. + +Scarcely had he spoken when the sound of voices was audible on the outer +edge of the forest. Nearer and louder grew the voices--one was the clear +flute tones of a young brave and the other the tremulous squeaks of an +old grandfather. + +It was Manstin's friend with the Earth Ear and the old grandfather. +“Here Manstin, take back your eyes,” said the old man, “I knew you would +not be content in my stead, but I wanted you to learn your lesson. I +have had pleasure seeing with your eyes and trying your bow and arrows, +but since I am old and feeble I much prefer my own teepee and my magic +bags!” + +Thus talking the three returned to the hut. The old grandfather crept +into his wigwam, which is often mistaken for a mere oak tree by little +Indian girls and boys. + +Manstin, with his own bright eyes fitted into his head again, went on +happily to hunt in the North country. + + + + +THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + +ONCE seven people went out to make war,--the Ashes, the Fire, the +Bladder, the Grasshopper, the Dragon Fly, the Fish, and the Turtle. As +they were talking excitedly, waving their fists in violent gestures, a +wind came and blew the Ashes away. “Ho!” cried the others, “he could not +fight, this one!” + +The six went on running to make war more quickly. They descended a deep +valley, the Fire going foremost until they came to a river. The Fire +said “Hsss--tchu!” and was gone. “Ho!” hooted the others, “he could not +fight, this one!” + +Therefore the five went on the more quickly to make war. They came to a +great wood. While they were going through it, the Bladder was heard +to sneer and to say, “He! you should rise above these, brothers.” With +these words he went upward among the tree-tops; and the thorn apple +pricked him. He fell through the branches and was nothing! “You see +this!” said the four, “this one could not fight.” + +Still the remaining warriors would not turn back. The four went boldly +on to make war. The Grasshopper with his cousin, the Dragon Fly, went +foremost. They reached a marshy place, and the mire was very deep. As +they waded through the mud, the Grasshopper's legs stuck, and he pulled +them off! He crawled upon a log and wept, “You see me, brothers, I +cannot go!” + +The Dragon Fly went on, weeping for his cousin. He would not be +comforted, for he loved his cousin dearly. The more he grieved, the +louder he cried, till his body shook with great violence. He blew his +red swollen nose with a loud noise so that his head came off his slender +neck, and he was fallen upon the grass. + +“You see how it is,” said the Fish, lashing his tail impatiently, “these +people were not warriors!” + +“Come!” he said, “let us go on to make war.” + +Thus the Fish and the Turtle came to a large camp ground. + +“Ho!” exclaimed the people of this round village of teepees, “Who are +these little ones? What do they seek?” + +Neither of the warriors carried weapons with them, and their unimposing +stature misled the curious people. + +The Fish was spokesman. With a peculiar omission of syllables, he said: +“Shu... hi pi!” + +“Wan! what? what?” clamored eager voices of men and women. + +Again the Fish said: “Shu... hi pi!” Everywhere stood young and old with +a palm to an ear. Still no one guessed what the Fish had mumbled! + +From the bewildered crowd witty old Iktomi came forward. “He, listen!” + he shouted, rubbing his mischievous palms together, for where there was +any trouble brewing, he was always in the midst of it. + +“This little strange man says, 'Zuya unhipi! We come to make war!'” + +“Uun!” resented the people, suddenly stricken glum. “Let us kill the +silly pair! They can do nothing! They do not know the meaning of the +phrase. Let us build a fire and boil them both!” + +“If you put us on to boil,” said the Fish, “there will be trouble.” + +“Ho ho!” laughed the village folk. “We shall see.” + +And so they made a fire. + +“I have never been so angered!” said the Fish. The Turtle in a whispered +reply said: “We shall die!” + +When a pair of strong hands lifted the Fish over the sputtering water, +he put his mouth downward. “Whssh!” he said. He blew the water all over +the people, so that many were burned and could not see. Screaming with +pain, they ran away. + +“Oh, what shall we do with these dreadful ones?” they said. + +Others exclaimed: “Let us carry them to the lake of muddy water and +drown them!” + +Instantly they ran with them. They threw the Fish and the Turtle into +the lake. Toward the center of the large lake the Turtle dived. There +he peeped up out of the water and, waving a hand at the crowd, sang out, +“This is where I live!” + +The Fish swam hither and thither with such frolicsome darts that his +back fin made the water fly. “E han!” whooped the Fish, “this is where I +live!” + +“Oh, what have we done!” said the frightened people, “this will be our +undoing.” + +Then a wise chief said: “Iya, the Eater, shall come and swallow the +lake!” + +So one went running. He brought Iya, the Eater; and Iya drank all day at +the lake till his belly was like the earth. Then the Fish and the Turtle +dived into the mud; and Iya said: “They are not in me.” Hearing this the +people cried greatly. + +Iktomi wading in the lake had been swallowed like a gnat in the water. +Within the great Iya he was looking skyward. So deep was the water +in the Eater's stomach that the surface of the swallowed lake almost +touched the sky. + +“I will go that way,” said Iktomi, looking at the concave within arm's +reach. + +He struck his knife upward in the Eater's stomach, and the water falling +out drowned those people of the village. + +Now when the great water fell into its own bed, the Fish and the Turtle +came to the shore. They went home painted victors and loud-voiced +singers. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Indian Legends, by Zitkala-Sa + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 338-0.txt or 338-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/338/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/338-0.zip b/338-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cabfb67 --- /dev/null +++ b/338-0.zip diff --git a/338-h.zip b/338-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a80625 --- /dev/null +++ b/338-h.zip diff --git a/338-h/338-h.htm b/338-h/338-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..66e900a --- /dev/null +++ b/338-h/338-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3094 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Old Indian Legends + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Indian Legends, by Zitkala-Sa + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Old Indian Legends + +Author: Zitkala-Sa + +Release Date: July 5, 2008 [EBook #338] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Retold By Zitkala-Sa + </h2> + <h2> + ITKALA-SA. + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <big><b>OLD INDIAN LEGENDS</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> IKTOMI'S BLANKET </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> IKTOMI AND THE FAWN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> THE BADGER AND THE BEAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE TREE-BOUND </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE TOAD AND THE BOY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> IYA, THE CAMP-EATER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> MANSTIN, THE RABBIT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE WARLIKE SEVEN </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + </h2> + <p> + IKTOMI is a spider fairy. He wears brown deerskin leggins with long soft + fringes on either side, and tiny beaded moccasins on his feet. His long + black hair is parted in the middle and wrapped with red, red bands. Each + round braid hangs over a small brown ear and falls forward over his + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + He even paints his funny face with red and yellow, and draws big black + rings around his eyes. He wears a deerskin jacket, with bright colored + beads sewed tightly on it. Iktomi dresses like a real Dakota brave. In + truth, his paint and deerskins are the best part of him—if ever + dress is part of man or fairy. + </p> + <p> + Iktomi is a wily fellow. His hands are always kept in mischief. He prefers + to spread a snare rather than to earn the smallest thing with honest + hunting. Why! he laughs outright with wide open mouth when some simple + folk are caught in a trap, sure and fast. + </p> + <p> + He never dreams another lives so bright as he. Often his own conceit leads + him hard against the common sense of simpler people. + </p> + <p> + Poor Iktomi cannot help being a little imp. And so long as he is a naughty + fairy, he cannot find a single friend. No one helps him when he is in + trouble. No one really loves him. Those who come to admire his handsome + beaded jacket and long fringed leggins soon go away sick and tired of his + vain, vain words and heartless laughter. + </p> + <p> + Thus Iktomi lives alone in a cone-shaped wigwam upon the plain. One day he + sat hungry within his teepee. Suddenly he rushed out, dragging after him + his blanket. Quickly spreading it on the ground, he tore up dry tall grass + with both his hands and tossed it fast into the blanket. + </p> + <p> + Tying all the four corners together in a knot, he threw the light bundle + of grass over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Snatching up a slender willow stick with his free left hand, he started + off with a hop and a leap. From side to side bounced the bundle on his + back, as he ran light-footed over the uneven ground. Soon he came to the + edge of the great level land. On the hilltop he paused for breath. With + wicked smacks of his dry parched lips, as if tasting some tender meat, he + looked straight into space toward the marshy river bottom. With a thin + palm shading his eyes from the western sun, he peered far away into the + lowlands, munching his own cheeks all the while. “Ah-ha!” grunted he, + satisfied with what he saw. + </p> + <p> + A group of wild ducks were dancing and feasting in the marshes. With wings + outspread, tip to tip, they moved up and down in a large circle. Within + the ring, around a small drum, sat the chosen singers, nodding their heads + and blinking their eyes. + </p> + <p> + They sang in unison a merry dance-song, and beat a lively tattoo on the + drum. + </p> + <p> + Following a winding footpath near by, came a bent figure of a Dakota + brave. He bore on his back a very large bundle. With a willow cane he + propped himself up as he staggered along beneath his burden. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! who is there?” called out a curious old duck, still bobbing up and + down in the circular dance. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon the drummers stretched their necks till they strangled their song + for a look at the stranger passing by. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, Iktomi! Old fellow, pray tell us what you carry in your blanket. Do + not hurry off! Stop! halt!” urged one of the singers. + </p> + <p> + “Stop! stay! Show us what is in your blanket!” cried out other voices. + </p> + <p> + “My friends, I must not spoil your dance. Oh, you would not care to see if + you only knew what is in my blanket. Sing on! dance on! I must not show + you what I carry on my back,” answered Iktomi, nudging his own sides with + his elbows. This reply broke up the ring entirely. Now all the ducks + crowded about Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + “We must see what you carry! We must know what is in your blanket!” they + shouted in both his ears. Some even brushed their wings against the + mysterious bundle. Nudging himself again, wily Iktomi said, “My friends, + 't is only a pack of songs I carry in my blanket.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then let us hear your songs!” cried the curious ducks. + </p> + <p> + At length Iktomi consented to sing his songs. With delight all the ducks + flapped their wings and cried together, “Hoye! hoye!” + </p> + <p> + Iktomi, with great care, laid down his bundle on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “I will build first a round straw house, for I never sing my songs in the + open air,” said he. + </p> + <p> + Quickly he bent green willow sticks, planting both ends of each pole into + the earth. These he covered thick with reeds and grasses. Soon the straw + hut was ready. One by one the fat ducks waddled in through a small + opening, which was the only entrance way. Beside the door Iktomi stood + smiling, as the ducks, eyeing his bundle of songs, strutted into the hut. + </p> + <p> + In a strange low voice Iktomi began his queer old tunes. All the ducks sat + round-eyed in a circle about the mysterious singer. It was dim in that + straw hut, for Iktomi had not forgot to cover up the small entrance way. + All of a sudden his song burst into full voice. As the startled ducks sat + uneasily on the ground, Iktomi changed his tune into a minor strain. These + were the words he sang: + </p> + <p> + “Istokmus wacipo, tuwayatunwanpi kinhan ista nisasapi kta,” which is, + “With eyes closed you must dance. He who dares to open his eyes, forever + red eyes shall have.” + </p> + <p> + Up rose the circle of seated ducks and holding their wings close against + their sides began to dance to the rhythm of Iktomi's song and drum. + </p> + <p> + With eyes closed they did dance! Iktomi ceased to beat his drum. He began + to sing louder and faster. He seemed to be moving about in the center of + the ring. No duck dared blink a wink. Each one shut his eyes very tight + and danced even harder. Up and down! Shifting to the right of them they + hopped round and round in that blind dance. It was a difficult dance for + the curious folk. + </p> + <p> + At length one of the dancers could close his eyes no longer! It was a + Skiska who peeped the least tiny blink at Iktomi within the center of the + circle. “Oh! oh!” squawked he in awful terror! “Run! fly! Iktomi is + twisting your heads and breaking your necks! Run out and fly! fly!” he + cried. Hereupon the ducks opened their eyes. There beside Iktomi's bundle + of songs lay half of their crowd—flat on their backs. + </p> + <p> + Out they flew through the opening Skiska had made as he rushed forth with + his alarm. + </p> + <p> + But as they soared high into the blue sky they cried to one another: “Oh! + your eyes are red-red!” “And yours are red-red!” For the warning words of + the magic minor strain had proven true. “Ah-ha!” laughed Iktomi, untying + the four corners of his blanket, “I shall sit no more hungry within my + dwelling.” Homeward he trudged along with nice fat ducks in his blanket. + He left the little straw hut for the rains and winds to pull down. + </p> + <p> + Having reached his own teepee on the high level lands, Iktomi kindled a + large fire out of doors. He planted sharp-pointed sticks around the + leaping flames. On each stake he fastened a duck to roast. A few he buried + under the ashes to bake. Disappearing within his teepee, he came out again + with some huge seashells. These were his dishes. Placing one under each + roasting duck, he muttered, “The sweet fat oozing out will taste well with + the hard-cooked breasts.” + </p> + <p> + Heaping more willows upon the fire, Iktomi sat down on the ground with + crossed shins. A long chin between his knees pointed toward the red + flames, while his eyes were on the browning ducks. + </p> + <p> + Just above his ankles he clasped and unclasped his long bony fingers. Now + and then he sniffed impatiently the savory odor. + </p> + <p> + The brisk wind which stirred the fire also played with a squeaky old tree + beside Iktomi's wigwam. + </p> + <p> + From side to side the tree was swaying and crying in an old man's voice, + “Help! I'll break! I'll fall!” Iktomi shrugged his great shoulders, but + did not once take his eyes from the ducks. The dripping of amber oil into + pearly dishes, drop by drop, pleased his hungry eyes. Still the old tree + man called for help. “He! What sound is it that makes my ear ache!” + exclaimed Iktomi, holding a hand on his ear. + </p> + <p> + He rose and looked around. The squeaking came from the tree. Then he began + climbing the tree to find the disagreeable sound. He placed his foot right + on a cracked limb without seeing it. Just then a whiff of wind came + rushing by and pressed together the broken edges. There in a strong wooden + hand Iktomi's foot was caught. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my foot is crushed!” he howled like a coward. In vain he pulled and + puffed to free himself. + </p> + <p> + While sitting a prisoner on the tree he spied, through his tears, a pack + of gray wolves roaming over the level lands. Waving his hands toward them, + he called in his loudest voice, “He! Gray wolves! Don't you come here! I'm + caught fast in the tree so that my duck feast is getting cold. Don't you + come to eat up my meal.” + </p> + <p> + The leader of the pack upon hearing Iktomi's words turned to his comrades + and said: + </p> + <p> + “Ah! hear the foolish fellow! He says he has a duck feast to be eaten! Let + us hurry there for our share!” Away bounded the wolves toward Iktomi's + lodge. + </p> + <p> + From the tree Iktomi watched the hungry wolves eat up his nicely browned + fat ducks. His foot pained him more and more. He heard them crack the + small round bones with their strong long teeth and eat out the oily + marrow. Now severe pains shot up from his foot through his whole body. + “Hin-hin-hin!” sobbed Iktomi. Real tears washed brown streaks across his + red-painted cheeks. Smacking their lips, the wolves began to leave the + place, when Iktomi cried out like a pouting child, “At least you have left + my baking under the ashes!” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! Po!” shouted the mischievous wolves; “he says more ducks are to be + found under the ashes! Come! Let us have our fill this once!” + </p> + <p> + Running back to the dead fire, they pawed out the ducks with such rude + haste that a cloud of ashes rose like gray smoke over them. + </p> + <p> + “Hin-hin-hin!” moaned Iktomi, when the wolves had scampered off. All too + late, the sturdy breeze returned, and, passing by, pulled apart the broken + edges of the tree. Iktomi was released. But alas! he had no duck feast. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IKTOMI'S BLANKET + </h2> + <p> + ALONE within his teepee sat Iktomi. The sun was but a handsbreadth from + the western edge of land. + </p> + <p> + “Those, bad, bad gray wolves! They ate up all my nice fat ducks!” muttered + he, rocking his body to and fro. + </p> + <p> + He was cuddling the evil memory he bore those hungry wolves. At last he + ceased to sway his body backward and forward, but sat still and stiff as a + stone image. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I'll go to Inyan, the great-grandfather, and pray for food!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + At once he hurried forth from his teepee and, with his blanket over one + shoulder, drew nigh to a huge rock on a hillside. + </p> + <p> + With half-crouching, half-running strides, he fell upon Inyan with + outspread hands. + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather! pity me. I am hungry. I am starving. Give me food. + Great-grandfather, give me meat to eat!” he cried. All the while he + stroked and caressed the face of the great stone god. + </p> + <p> + The all-powerful Great Spirit, who makes the trees and grass, can hear the + voice of those who pray in many varied ways. The hearing of Inyan, the + large hard stone, was the one most sought after. He was the + great-grandfather, for he had sat upon the hillside many, many seasons. He + had seen the prairie put on a snow-white blanket and then change it for a + bright green robe more than a thousand times. + </p> + <p> + Still unaffected by the myriad moons he rested on the everlasting hill, + listening to the prayers of Indian warriors. Before the finding of the + magic arrow he had sat there. + </p> + <p> + Now, as Iktomi prayed and wept before the great-grandfather, the sky in + the west was red like a glowing face. The sunset poured a soft mellow + light upon the huge gray stone and the solitary figure beside it. It was + the smile of the Great Spirit upon the grandfather and the wayward child. + </p> + <p> + The prayer was heard. Iktomi knew it. “Now, grandfather, accept my + offering; 'tis all I have,” said Iktomi as he spread his half-worn blanket + upon Inyan's cold shoulders. Then Iktomi, happy with the smile of the + sunset sky, followed a footpath leading toward a thicketed ravine. He had + not gone many paces into the shrubbery when before him lay a freshly + wounded deer! + </p> + <p> + “This is the answer from the red western sky!” cried Iktomi with hands + uplifted. + </p> + <p> + Slipping a long thin blade from out his belt, he cut large chunks of + choice meat. Sharpening some willow sticks, he planted them around a + wood-pile he had ready to kindle. On these stakes he meant to roast the + venison. + </p> + <p> + While he was rubbing briskly two long sticks to start a fire, the sun in + the west fell out of the sky below the edge of land. Twilight was over + all. Iktomi felt the cold night air upon his bare neck and shoulders. + “Ough!” he shivered as he wiped his knife on the grass. Tucking it in a + beaded case hanging from his belt, Iktomi stood erect, looking about. He + shivered again. “Ough! Ah! I am cold. I wish I had my blanket!” whispered + he, hovering over the pile of dry sticks and the sharp stakes round about + it. Suddenly he paused and dropped his hands at his sides. + </p> + <p> + “The old great-grandfather does not feel the cold as I do. He does not + need my old blanket as I do. I wish I had not given it to him. Oh! I think + I'll run up there and take it back!” said he, pointing his long chin + toward the large gray stone. + </p> + <p> + Iktomi, in the warm sunshine, had no need of his blanket, and it had been + very easy to part with a thing which he could not miss. But the chilly + night wind quite froze his ardent thank-offering. + </p> + <p> + Thus running up the hillside, his teeth chattering all the way, he drew + near to Inyan, the sacred symbol. Seizing one corner of the half-worn + blanket, Iktomi pulled it off with a jerk. + </p> + <p> + “Give my blanket back, old grandfather! You do not need it. I do!” This + was very wrong, yet Iktomi did it, for his wit was not wisdom. Drawing the + blanket tight over his shoulders, he descended the hill with hurrying + feet. + </p> + <p> + He was soon upon the edge of the ravine. A young moon, like a bright bent + bow, climbed up from the southwest horizon a little way into the sky. + </p> + <p> + In this pale light Iktomi stood motionless as a ghost amid the thicket. + His woodpile was not yet kindled. His pointed stakes were still bare as he + had left them. But where was the deer—the venison he had felt warm + in his hands a moment ago? It was gone. Only the dry rib bones lay on the + ground like giant fingers from an open grave. Iktomi was troubled. At + length, stooping over the white dried bones, he took hold of one and shook + it. The bones, loose in their sockets, rattled together at his touch. + Iktomi let go his hold. He sprang back amazed. And though he wore a + blanket his teeth chattered more than ever. Then his blunted sense will + surprise you, little reader; for instead of being grieved that he had + taken back his blanket, he cried aloud, “Hin-hin-hin! If only I had eaten + the venison before going for my blanket!” + </p> + <p> + Those tears no longer moved the hand of the Generous Giver. They were + selfish tears. The Great Spirit does not heed them ever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + </h2> + <p> + BESIDE a white lake, beneath a large grown willow tree, sat Iktomi on the + bare ground. The heap of smouldering ashes told of a recent open fire. + With ankles crossed together around a pot of soup, Iktomi bent over some + delicious boiled fish. + </p> + <p> + Fast he dipped his black horn spoon into the soup, for he was ravenous. + Iktomi had no regular meal times. Often when he was hungry he went without + food. + </p> + <p> + Well hid between the lake and the wild rice, he looked nowhere save into + the pot of fish. Not knowing when the next meal would be, he meant to eat + enough now to last some time. + </p> + <p> + “How, how, my friend!” said a voice out of the wild rice. Iktomi started. + He almost choked with his soup. He peered through the long reeds from + where he sat with his long horn spoon in mid-air. + </p> + <p> + “How, my friend!” said the voice again, this time close at his side. + Iktomi turned and there stood a dripping muskrat who had just come out of + the lake. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is my friend who startled me. I wondered if among the wild rice + some spirit voice was talking. How, how, my friend!” said Iktomi. The + muskrat stood smiling. On his lips hung a ready “Yes, my friend,” when + Iktomi would ask, “My friend, will you sit down beside me and share my + food?” + </p> + <p> + That was the custom of the plains people. Yet Iktomi sat silent. He hummed + an old dance-song and beat gently on the edge of the pot with his + buffalo-horn spoon. The muskrat began to feel awkward before such lack of + hospitality and wished himself under water. + </p> + <p> + After many heart throbs Iktomi stopped drumming with his horn ladle, and + looking upward into the muskrat's face, he said: + </p> + <p> + “My friend, let us run a race to see who shall win this pot of fish. If I + win, I shall not need to share it with you. If you win, you shall have + half of it.” Springing to his feet, Iktomi began at once to tighten the + belt about his waist. + </p> + <p> + “My friend Ikto, I cannot run a race with you! I am not a swift runner, + and you are nimble as a deer. We shall not run any race together,” + answered the hungry muskrat. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Iktomi stood with a hand on his long protruding chin. His + eyes were fixed upon something in the air. The muskrat looked out of the + corners of his eyes without moving his head. He watched the wily Iktomi + concocting a plot. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Iktomi, suddenly turning his gaze upon the unwelcome + visitor; “I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slacken my + usual speed; and the race will be a fair one.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder and started + off along the edge of the lake. When they reached the opposite side Iktomi + pried about in search of a heavy stone. + </p> + <p> + He found one half-buried in the shallow water. Pulling it out upon dry + land, he wrapped it in his blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake, I on the + other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!” said Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back. Then they + parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds fringing the shore. + Iktomi found his load a heavy one. Perspiration hung like beads on his + brow. His chest heaved hard and fast. + </p> + <p> + He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had gone, but nowhere + did he see any sign of him. “Well, he is running low under the wild rice!” + said he. Yet as he scanned the tall grasses on the lake shore, he saw not + one stir as if to make way for the runner. “Ah, has he gone so fast ahead + that the disturbed grasses in his trail have quieted again?” exclaimed + Iktomi. With that thought he quickly dropped the heavy stone. “No more of + this!” said he, patting his chest with both hands. + </p> + <p> + Off with a springing bound, he ran swiftly toward the goal. Tufts of reeds + and grass fell flat under his feet. Hardly had they raised their heads + when Iktomi was many paces gone. + </p> + <p> + Soon he reached the heap of cold ashes. Iktomi halted stiff as if he had + struck an invisible cliff. His black eyes showed a ring of white about + them as he stared at the empty ground. There was no pot of boiled fish! + There was no water-man in sight! “Oh, if only I had shared my food like a + real Dakota, I would not have lost it all! Why did I not know the muskrat + would run through the water? He swims faster than I could ever run! That + is what he has done. He has laughed at me for carrying a weight on my back + while he shot hither like an arrow!” + </p> + <p> + Crying thus to himself, Iktomi stepped to the water's brink. He stooped + forward with a hand on each bent knee and peeped far into the deep water. + </p> + <p> + “There!” he exclaimed, “I see you, my friend, sitting with your ankles + wound around my little pot of fish! My friend, I am hungry. Give me a + bone!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the water-man, the muskrat. The sound did not rise + up out of the lake, for it came down from overhead. With his hands still + on his knees, Iktomi turned his face upward into the great willow tree. + Opening wide his mouth he begged, “My friend, my friend, give me a bone to + gnaw!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha!” laughed the muskrat, and leaning over the limb he sat upon, he + let fall a small sharp bone which dropped right into Iktomi's throat. + Iktomi almost choked to death before he could get it out. In the tree the + muskrat sat laughing loud. “Next time, say to a visiting friend, 'Be + seated beside me, my friend. Let me share with you my food.'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + </h2> + <p> + AFAR off upon a large level land, a summer sun was shining bright. Here + and there over the rolling green were tall bunches of coarse gray weeds. + Iktomi in his fringed buckskins walked alone across the prairie with a + black bare head glossy in the sunlight. He walked through the grass + without following any well-worn footpath. + </p> + <p> + From one large bunch of coarse weeds to another he wound his way about the + great plain. He lifted his foot lightly and placed it gently forward like + a wildcat prowling noiselessly through the thick grass. He stopped a few + steps away from a very large bunch of wild sage. From shoulder to shoulder + he tilted his head. Still farther he bent from side to side, first low + over one hip and then over the other. Far forward he stooped, stretching + his long thin neck like a duck, to see what lay under a fur coat beyond + the bunch of coarse grass. + </p> + <p> + A sleek gray-faced prairie wolf! his pointed black nose tucked in between + his four feet drawn snugly together; his handsome bushy tail wound over + his nose and feet; a coyote fast asleep in the shadow of a bunch of grass!—this + is what Iktomi spied. Carefully he raised one foot and cautiously reached + out with his toes. Gently, gently he lifted the foot behind and placed it + before the other. Thus he came nearer and nearer to the round fur ball + lying motionless under the sage grass. + </p> + <p> + Now Iktomi stood beside it, looking at the closed eyelids that did not + quiver the least bit. Pressing his lips into straight lines and nodding + his head slowly, he bent over the wolf. He held his ear close to the + coyote's nose, but not a breath of air stirred from it. + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” said he at last. “Dead, but not long since he ran over these + plains! See! there in his paw is caught a fresh feather. He is nice fat + meat!” Taking hold of the paw with the bird feather fast on it, he + exclaimed, “Why, he is still warm! I'll carry him to my dwelling and have + a roast for my evening meal. Ah-ha!” he laughed, as he seized the coyote + by its two fore paws and its two hind feet and swung him over head across + his shoulders. The wolf was large and the teepee was far across the + prairie. Iktomi trudged along with his burden, smacking his hungry lips + together. He blinked his eyes hard to keep out the salty perspiration + streaming down his face. + </p> + <p> + All the while the coyote on his back lay gazing into the sky with wide + open eyes. His long white teeth fairly gleamed as he smiled and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “To ride on one's own feet is tiresome, but to be carried like a warrior + from a brave fight is great fun!” said the coyote in his heart. He had + never been borne on any one's back before and the new experience delighted + him. He lay there lazily on Iktomi's shoulders, now and then blinking blue + winks. Did you never see a birdie blink a blue wink? This is how it first + became a saying among the plains people. When a bird stands aloof watching + your strange ways, a thin bluish white tissue slips quickly over his eyes + and as quickly off again; so quick that you think it was only a mysterious + blue wink. Sometimes when children grow drowsy they blink blue winks, + while others who are too proud to look with friendly eyes upon people + blink in this cold bird-manner. + </p> + <p> + The coyote was affected by both sleepiness and pride. His winks were + almost as blue as the sky. In the midst of his new pleasure the swaying + motion ceased. Iktomi had reached his dwelling place. The coyote felt + drowsy no longer, for in the next instant he was slipping out of Iktomi's + hands. He was falling, falling through space, and then he struck the + ground with such a bump he did not wish to breathe for a while. He + wondered what Iktomi would do, thus he lay still where he fell. Humming a + dance-song, one from his bundle of mystery songs, Iktomi hopped and darted + about at an imaginary dance and feast. He gathered dry willow sticks and + broke them in two against his knee. He built a large fire out of doors. + The flames leaped up high in red and yellow streaks. Now Iktomi returned + to the coyote who had been looking on through his eyelashes. + </p> + <p> + Taking him again by his paws and hind feet, he swung him to and fro. Then + as the wolf swung toward the red flames, Iktomi let him go. Once again the + coyote fell through space. Hot air smote his nostrils. He saw red dancing + fire, and now he struck a bed of cracking embers. With a quick turn he + leaped out of the flames. From his heels were scattered a shower of red + coals upon Iktomi's bare arms and shoulders. Dumbfounded, Iktomi thought + he saw a spirit walk out of his fire. His jaws fell apart. He thrust a + palm to his face, hard over his mouth! He could scarce keep from + shrieking. + </p> + <p> + Rolling over and over on the grass and rubbing the sides of his head + against the ground, the coyote soon put out the fire on his fur. Iktomi's + eyes were almost ready to jump out of his head as he stood cooling a burn + on his brown arm with his breath. + </p> + <p> + Sitting on his haunches, on the opposite side of the fire from where + Iktomi stood, the coyote began to laugh at him. + </p> + <p> + “Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. Make sure the + enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!” + </p> + <p> + Then off he ran so swiftly that his long bushy tail hung out in a straight + line with his back. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + </h2> + <p> + IN one of his wanderings through the wooded lands, Iktomi saw a rare bird + sitting high in a tree-top. Its long fan-like tail feathers had caught all + the beautiful colors of the rainbow. Handsome in the glistening summer sun + sat the bird of rainbow plumage. Iktomi hurried hither with his eyes fast + on the bird. + </p> + <p> + He stood beneath the tree looking long and wistfully at the peacock's + bright feathers. At length he heaved a sigh and began: “Oh, I wish I had + such pretty feathers! How I wish I were not I! If only I were a handsome + feathered creature how happy I would be! I'd be so glad to sit upon a very + high tree and bask in the summer sun like you!” said he suddenly, pointing + his bony finger up toward the peacock, who was eyeing the stranger below, + turning his head from side to side. + </p> + <p> + “I beg of you make me into a bird with green and purple feathers like + yours!” implored Iktomi, tired now of playing the brave in beaded + buckskins. The peacock then spoke to Iktomi: “I have a magic power. My + touch will change you in a moment into the most beautiful peacock if you + can keep one condition.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! yes!” shouted Iktomi, jumping up and down, patting his lips with his + palm, which caused his voice to vibrate in a peculiar fashion. “Yes! yes! + I could keep ten conditions if only you would change me into a bird with + long, bright tail feathers. Oh, I am so ugly! I am so tired of being + myself! Change me! Do!” + </p> + <p> + Hereupon the peacock spread out both his wings, and scarce moving them, he + sailed slowly down upon the ground. Right beside Iktomi he alighted. Very + low in Iktomi's ear the peacock whispered, “Are you willing to keep one + condition, though hard it be?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! yes! I've told you ten of them if need be!” exclaimed Iktomi, with + some impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Then I pronounce you a handsome feathered bird. No longer are you Iktomi + the mischief-maker.” Saying this the peacock touched Iktomi with the tips + of his wings. + </p> + <p> + Iktomi vanished at the touch. There stood beneath the tree two handsome + peacocks. While one of the pair strutted about with a head turned aside as + if dazzled by his own bright-tinted tail feathers, the other bird soared + slowly upward. He sat quiet and unconscious of his gay plumage. He seemed + content to perch there on a large limb in the warm sunshine. + </p> + <p> + After a little while the vain peacock, dizzy with his bright colors, + spread out his wings and lit on the same branch with the elder bird. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he exclaimed, “how hard to fly! Brightly tinted feathers are + handsome, but I wish they were light enough to fly!” Just there the elder + bird interrupted him. “That is the one condition. Never try to fly like + other birds. Upon the day you try to fly you shall be changed into your + former self.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a shame that bright feathers cannot fly into the sky!” cried the + peacock. Already he grew restless. He longed to soar through space. He + yearned to fly above the trees high upward to the sun. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there I see a flock of birds flying thither! Oh! oh!” said he, + flapping his wings, “I must try my wings! I am tired of bright tail + feathers. I want to try my wings.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” clucked the elder bird. The flock of chattering birds flew by + with whirring wings. “Oop! oop!” called some to their mates. + </p> + <p> + Possessed by an irrepressible impulse the Iktomi peacock called out, “He! + I want to come! Wait for me!” and with that he gave a lunge into the air. + The flock of flying feathers wheeled about and lowered over the tree + whence came the peacock's cry. Only one rare bird sat on the tree, and + beneath, on the ground, stood a brave in brown buckskins. + </p> + <p> + “I am my old self again!” groaned Iktomi in a sad voice. “Make me over, + pretty bird. Try me this once again!” he pleaded in vain. + </p> + <p> + “Old Iktomi wants to fly! Ah! We cannot wait for him!” sang the birds as + they flew away. + </p> + <p> + Muttering unhappy vows to himself, Iktomi had not gone far when he chanced + upon a bunch of long slender arrows. One by one they rose in the air and + shot a straight line over the prairie. Others shot up into the blue sky + and were soon lost to sight. Only one was left. He was making ready for + his flight when Iktomi rushed upon him and wailed, “I want to be an arrow! + Make me into an arrow! I want to pierce the blue Blue overhead. I want to + strike yonder summer sun in its center. Make me into an arrow!” + </p> + <p> + “Can you keep a condition? One condition, though hard it be?” the arrow + turned to ask. + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes!” shouted Iktomi, delighted. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon the slender arrow tapped him gently with his sharp flint beak. + There was no Iktomi, but two arrows stood ready to fly. “Now, young arrow, + this is the one condition. Your flight must always be in a straight line. + Never turn a curve nor jump about like a young fawn,” said the arrow + magician. He spoke slowly and sternly. + </p> + <p> + At once he set about to teach the new arrow how to shoot in a long + straight line. + </p> + <p> + “This is the way to pierce the Blue overhead,” said he; and off he spun + high into the sky. + </p> + <p> + While he was gone a herd of deer came trotting by. Behind them played the + young fawns together. They frolicked about like kittens. They bounced on + all fours like balls. Then they pitched forward, kicking their heels in + the air. The Iktomi arrow watched them so happy on the ground. Looking + quickly up into the sky, he said in his heart, “The magician is out of + sight. I'll just romp and frolic with these fawns until he returns. Fawns! + Friends, do not fear me. I want to jump and leap with you. I long to be + happy as you are,” said he. The young fawns stopped with stiff legs and + stared at the speaking arrow with large brown wondering eyes. “See! I can + jump as well as you!” went on Iktomi. He gave one tiny leap like a fawn. + All of a sudden the fawns snorted with extended nostrils at what they + beheld. There among them stood Iktomi in brown buckskins, and the strange + talking arrow was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am myself. My old self!” cried Iktomi, pinching himself and + plucking imaginary pieces out of his jacket. + </p> + <p> + “Hin-hin-hin! I wanted to fly!” + </p> + <p> + The real arrow now returned to the earth. He alighted very near Iktomi. + From the high sky he had seen the fawns playing on the green. He had seen + Iktomi make his one leap, and the charm was broken. Iktomi became his + former self. + </p> + <p> + “Arrow, my friend, change me once more!” begged Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + “No, no more,” replied the arrow. Then away he shot through the air in the + direction his comrades had flown. + </p> + <p> + By this time the fawns gathered close around Iktomi. They poked their + noses at him trying to know who he was. + </p> + <p> + Iktomi's tears were like a spring shower. A new desire dried them quickly + away. Stepping boldly to the largest fawn, he looked closely at the little + brown spots all over the furry face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, fawn! What beautiful brown spots on your face! Fawn, dear little + fawn, can you tell me how those brown spots were made on your face?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the fawn. “When I was very, very small, my mother marked them + on my face with a red hot fire. She dug a large hole in the ground and + made a soft bed of grass and twigs in it. Then she placed me gently there. + She covered me over with dry sweet grass and piled dry cedars on top. From + a neighbor's fire she brought hither a red, red ember. This she tucked + carefully in at my head. This is how the brown spots were made on my + face.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, fawn, my friend, will you do the same for me? Won't you mark my face + with brown, brown spots just like yours?” asked Iktomi, always eager to be + like other people. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I can dig the ground and fill it with dry grass and sticks. If you + will jump into the pit, I'll cover you with sweet smelling grass and cedar + wood,” answered the fawn. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” interrupted Ikto, “will you be sure to cover me with a great deal + of dry grass and twigs? You will make sure that the spots will be as brown + as those you wear.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. I'll pile up grass and willows once oftener than my mother did.” + </p> + <p> + “Now let us dig the hole, pull the grass, and gather sticks,” cried Iktomi + in glee. + </p> + <p> + Thus with his own hands he aids in making his grave. After the hole was + dug and cushioned with grass, Iktomi, muttering something about brown + spots, leaped down into it. Lengthwise, flat on his back, he lay. While + the fawn covered him over with cedars, a far-away voice came up through + them, “Brown, brown spots to wear forever!” A red ember was tucked under + the dry grass. Off scampered the fawns after their mothers; and when a + great distance away they looked backward. They saw a blue smoke rising, + writhing upward till it vanished in the blue ether. + </p> + <p> + “Is that Iktomi's spirit?” asked one fawn of another. + </p> + <p> + “No! I think he would jump out before he could burn into smoke and + cinders,” answered his comrade. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + </h2> + <p> + ON the edge of a forest there lived a large family of badgers. In the + ground their dwelling was made. Its walls and roof were covered with rocks + and straw. + </p> + <p> + Old father badger was a great hunter. He knew well how to track the deer + and buffalo. Every day he came home carrying on his back some wild game. + This kept mother badger very busy, and the baby badgers very chubby. While + the well-fed children played about, digging little make-believe dwellings, + their mother hung thin sliced meats upon long willow racks. As fast as the + meats were dried and seasoned by sun and wind, she packed them carefully + away in a large thick bag. + </p> + <p> + This bag was like a huge stiff envelope, but far more beautiful to see, + for it was painted all over with many bright colors. These firmly tied + bags of dried meat were laid upon the rocks in the walls of the dwelling. + In this way they were both useful and decorative. + </p> + <p> + One day father badger did not go off for a hunt. He stayed at home, making + new arrows. His children sat about him on the ground floor. Their small + black eyes danced with delight as they watched the gay colors painted upon + the arrows. + </p> + <p> + All of a sudden there was heard a heavy footfall near the entrance way. + The oval-shaped door-frame was pushed aside. In stepped a large black foot + with great big claws. Then the other clumsy foot came next. All the while + the baby badgers stared hard at the unexpected comer. After the second + foot, in peeped the head of a big black bear! His black nose was dry and + parched. Silently he entered the dwelling and sat down on the ground by + the doorway. His black eyes never left the painted bags on the rocky + walls. He guessed what was in them. He was a very hungry bear. Seeing the + racks of red meat hanging in the yard, he had come to visit the badger + family. + </p> + <p> + Though he was a stranger and his strong paws and jaws frightened the small + badgers, the father said, “How, how, friend! Your lips and nose look + feverish and hungry. Will you eat with us?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my friend,” said the bear. “I am starved. I saw your racks of red + fresh meat, and knowing your heart is kind, I came hither. Give me meat to + eat, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Hereupon the mother badger took long strides across the room, and as she + had to pass in front of the strange visitor, she said: “Ah han! Allow me + to pass!” which was an apology. + </p> + <p> + “How, how!” replied the bear, drawing himself closer to the wall and + crossing his shins together. + </p> + <p> + Mother badger chose the most tender red meat, and soon over a bed of coals + she broiled the venison. + </p> + <p> + That day the bear had all he could eat. At nightfall he rose, and smacking + his lips together,—that is the noisy way of saying “the food was + very good!”—he left the badger dwelling. The baby badgers, peeping + through the door-flap after the shaggy bear, saw him disappear into the + woods near by. + </p> + <p> + Day after day the crackling of twigs in the forest told of heavy + footsteps. Out would come the same black bear. He never lifted the + door-flap, but thrusting it aside entered slowly in. Always in the same + place by the entrance way he sat down with crossed shins. + </p> + <p> + His daily visits were so regular that mother badger placed a fur rug in + his place. She did not wish a guest in her dwelling to sit upon the bare + hard ground. + </p> + <p> + At last one time when the bear returned, his nose was bright and black. + His coat was glossy. He had grown fat upon the badger's hospitality. + </p> + <p> + As he entered the dwelling a pair of wicked gleams shot out of his shaggy + head. Surprised by the strange behavior of the guest who remained standing + upon the rug, leaning his round back against the wall, father badger + queried: “How, my friend! What?” + </p> + <p> + The bear took one stride forward and shook his paw in the badger's face. + He said: “I am strong, very strong!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, so you are,” replied the badger. From the farther end of the + room mother badger muttered over her bead work: “Yes, you grew strong from + our well-filled bowls.” + </p> + <p> + The bear smiled, showing a row of large sharp teeth. + </p> + <p> + “I have no dwelling. I have no bags of dried meat. I have no arrows. All + these I have found here on this spot,” said he, stamping his heavy foot. + “I want them! See! I am strong!” repeated he, lifting both his terrible + paws. + </p> + <p> + Quietly the father badger spoke: “I fed you. I called you friend, though + you came here a stranger and a beggar. For the sake of my little ones + leave us in peace.” + </p> + <p> + Mother badger, in her excited way, had pierced hard through the buckskin + and stuck her fingers repeatedly with her sharp awl until she had laid + aside her work. Now, while her husband was talking to the bear, she + motioned with her hands to the children. On tiptoe they hastened to her + side. + </p> + <p> + For reply came a low growl. It grew louder and more fierce. “Wa-ough!” he + roared, and by force hurled the badgers out. First the father badger; then + the mother. The little badgers he tossed by pairs. He threw them hard upon + the ground. Standing in the entrance way and showing his ugly teeth, he + snarled, “Be gone!” + </p> + <p> + The father and mother badger, having gained their feet, picked up their + kicking little babes, and, wailing aloud, drew the air into their + flattened lungs till they could stand alone upon their feet. No sooner had + the baby badgers caught their breath than they howled and shrieked with + pain and fright. Ah! what a dismal cry was theirs as the whole badger + family went forth wailing from out their own dwelling! A little distance + away from their stolen house the father badger built a small round hut. He + made it of bent willows and covered it with dry grass and twigs. + </p> + <p> + This was shelter for the night; but alas! it was empty of food and arrows. + All day father badger prowled through the forest, but without his arrows + he could not get food for his children. Upon his return, the cry of the + little ones for meat, the sad quiet of the mother with bowed head, hurt + him like a poisoned arrow wound. + </p> + <p> + “I'll beg meat for you!” said he in an unsteady voice. Covering his head + and entire body in a long loose robe he halted beside the big black bear. + The bear was slicing red meat to hang upon the rack. He did not pause for + a look at the comer. As the badger stood there unrecognized, he saw that + the bear had brought with him his whole family. Little cubs played under + the high-hanging new meats. They laughed and pointed with their wee noses + upward at the thin sliced meats upon the poles. + </p> + <p> + “Have you no heart, Black Bear? My children are starving. Give me a small + piece of meat for them,” begged the badger. + </p> + <p> + “Wa-ough!” growled the angry bear, and pounced upon the badger. “Be gone!” + said he, and with his big hind foot he sent father badger sprawling on the + ground. + </p> + <p> + All the little ruffian bears hooted and shouted “ha-ha!” to see the beggar + fall upon his face. There was one, however, who did not even smile. He was + the youngest cub. His fur coat was not as black and glossy as those his + elders wore. The hair was dry and dingy. It looked much more like kinky + wool. He was the ugly cub. Poor little baby bear! he had always been + laughed at by his older brothers. He could not help being himself. He + could not change the differences between himself and his brothers. Thus + again, though the rest laughed aloud at the badger's fall, he did not see + the joke. His face was long and earnest. In his heart he was sad to see + the badgers crying and starving. In his breast spread a burning desire to + share his food with them. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not ask my father for meat to give away. He would say 'No!' Then + my brothers would laugh at me,” said the ugly baby bear to himself. + </p> + <p> + In an instant, as if his good intention had passed from him, he was + singing happily and skipping around his father at work. Singing in his + small high voice and dragging his feet in long strides after him, as if a + prankish spirit oozed out from his heels, he strayed off through the tall + grass. He was ambling toward the small round hut. When directly in front + of the entrance way, he made a quick side kick with his left hind leg. Lo! + there fell into the badger's hut a piece of fresh meat. It was tough meat, + full of sinews, yet it was the only piece he could take without his + father's notice. + </p> + <p> + Thus having given meat to the hungry badgers, the ugly baby bear ran + quickly away to his father again. + </p> + <p> + On the following day the father badger came back once more. He stood + watching the big bear cutting thin slices of meat. + </p> + <p> + “Give—” he began, when the bear turning upon him with a growl, + thrust him cruelly aside. The badger fell on his hands. He fell where the + grass was wet with the blood of the newly carved buffalo. His keen + starving eyes caught sight of a little red clot lying bright upon the + green. Looking fearfully toward the bear and seeing his head was turned + away, he snatched up the small thick blood. Underneath his girdled blanket + he hid it in his hand. + </p> + <p> + On his return to his family, he said within himself: “I'll pray the Great + Spirit to bless it.” Thus he built a small round lodge. Sprinkling water + upon the heated heap of sacred stones within, he made ready to purge his + body. “The buffalo blood, too, must be purified before I ask a blessing + upon it,” thought the badger. He carried it into the sacred vapor lodge. + After placing it near the sacred stones, he sat down beside it. After a + long silence, he muttered: “Great Spirit, bless this little buffalo + blood.” Then he arose, and with a quiet dignity stepped out of the lodge. + Close behind him some one followed. The badger turned to look over his + shoulder and to his great joy he beheld a Dakota brave in handsome + buckskins. In his hand he carried a magic arrow. Across his back dangled a + long fringed quiver. In answer to the badger's prayer, the avenger had + sprung from out the red globules. + </p> + <p> + “My son!” exclaimed the badger with extended right hand. + </p> + <p> + “How, father,” replied the brave; “I am your avenger!” + </p> + <p> + Immediately the badger told the sad story of his hungry little ones and + the stingy bear. + </p> + <p> + Listening closely the young man stood looking steadily upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + At length the father badger moved away. + </p> + <p> + “Where?” queried the avenger. + </p> + <p> + “My son, we have no food. I am going again to beg for meat,” answered the + badger. + </p> + <p> + “Then I go with you,” replied the young brave. This made the old badger + happy. He was proud of his son. He was delighted to be called “father” by + the first human creature. + </p> + <p> + The bear saw the badger coming in the distance. He narrowed his eyes at + the tall stranger walking beside him. He spied the arrow. At once he + guessed it was the avenger of whom he had heard long, long ago. As they + approached, the bear stood erect with a hand on his thigh. He smiled upon + them. + </p> + <p> + “How, badger, my friend! Here is my knife. Cut your favorite pieces from + the deer,” said he, holding out a long thin blade. + </p> + <p> + “How!” said the badger eagerly. He wondered what had inspired the big bear + to such a generous deed. The young avenger waited till the badger took the + long knife in his hand. + </p> + <p> + Gazing full into the black bear's face, he said: “I come to do justice. + You have returned only a knife to my poor father. Now return to him his + dwelling.” His voice was deep and powerful. In his black eyes burned a + steady fire. + </p> + <p> + The long strong teeth of the bear rattled against each other, and his + shaggy body shook with fear. “Ahow!” cried he, as if he had been shot. + Running into the dwelling he gasped, breathless and trembling, “Come out, + all of you! This is the badger's dwelling. We must flee to the forest for + fear of the avenger who carries the magic arrow.” + </p> + <p> + Out they hurried, all the bears, and disappeared into the woods. + </p> + <p> + Singing and laughing, the badgers returned to their own dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Then the avenger left them. + </p> + <p> + “I go,” said he in parting, “over the earth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TREE-BOUND + </h2> + <p> + IT was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low over the edge of + the green level land. A large yellow sun hung directly overhead. + </p> + <p> + The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and sky with + sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow-breasted birdie—“Koda Ni + Dakota!” He insisted upon it. “Koda Ni Dakota!” which was “Friend, you're + a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!” Perchance the birdie meant the avenger + with the magic arrow, for there across the plain he strode. He was + handsome in his paint and feathers, proud with his great buckskin quiver + on his back and a long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp of + cone-shaped teepees he was going. There over the Indian village hovered a + large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every morning rose + this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and spreading out his + gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp ground. Then it was that + the people, terror-stricken, ran screaming into their lodges. Covering + their heads with their blankets, they sat trembling with fear. No one + dared to venture out till the red eagle had disappeared beyond the west, + where meet the blue and green. + </p> + <p> + In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his warriors a + powerful marksman who could send a death arrow to the man-hungry bird. At + last to urge his men to their utmost skill he bade his crier proclaim a + new reward. + </p> + <p> + Of the chieftain's two beautiful daughters he would have his choice who + brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its breast. + </p> + <p> + Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young and old, both + heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the contest. At gray dawn there + stood indistinct under the shadow of the bluff many human figures; silent + as ghosts and wrapped in robes girdled tight about their waists, they + waited with chosen bow and arrow. + </p> + <p> + Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They crouched low + upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed upon the top of the + high bluff. Breathless they watched for the soaring of the red eagle. + </p> + <p> + From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small holes in the + front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and hard-set teeth, the + women peered out upon the Dakota men prowling about with bows and arrows. + </p> + <p> + At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern horizon at the + armed Dakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the edge of the cliff. + Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his neck and flapped his strong + wings together. Then he dived into the air. Slowly he winged his way over + the round camp ground; over the men with their strong bows and arrows! In + an instant the long bows were bent. Strong straight arrows with red + feathered tips sped upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved those + indifferent wings, untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to the west + beyond the reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red eagle flew + away. + </p> + <p> + A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly stillness of the + dawn. The women talked excitedly about the invulnerable red of the eagle's + feathers, while the would-be heroes sulked within their wigwams. + “He-he-he!” groaned the chieftain. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of the same day sat a group of hunters around a bright + burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man whom they spied + while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. They saw the stranger + taking aim. Following the point of his arrow with their eyes, they beheld + a herd of buffalo. The arrow sprang from the bow! It darted into the skull + of the foremost buffalo. But unlike other arrows it pierced through the + head of the creature and spinning in the air lit into the next buffalo + head. One by one the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they were grazing. + With straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides. The young man stood + calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they dropped dead to the + ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither and picking up his magic + arrow wiped it carefully on the soft grass. He slipped it into his long + fringed quiver. + </p> + <p> + “He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or beasts!” + cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away. + </p> + <p> + They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow. When the hunter's + tale of the stranger's arrow reached the ears of the chieftain, his face + brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet horsemen, to learn of him his + birth, his name, and his deeds. + </p> + <p> + “If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the earth out + of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him kill the red + eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself one of my beautiful + daughters,” he had said to his messengers, for the old story of the + badger's man-son was known all over the level lands. + </p> + <p> + After four days and nights the braves returned. “He is coming,” they said. + “We have seen him. He is straight and tall; handsome in face, with large + black eyes. He paints his round cheeks with bright red, and wears the + penciled lines of red over his temples like our men of honored rank. He + carries on his back a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic + arrow. His bow is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red + eagle.” All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words of + the returned messengers. + </p> + <p> + Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the brown burnt + spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was filled with a new + desire. “If only I had the magic arrow, I would kill the red eagle and win + the chieftain's daughter for a wife,” said he in his heart. + </p> + <p> + Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in front of his + teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his drawn-up knees. His + keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was watching for the avenger. + </p> + <p> + “'He is coming!' said the people,” muttered old Iktomi. All of a sudden he + raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into the west. The summer + sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless sky. There across the green + prairie was a man walking bareheaded toward the east. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! 'tis he! the man with the magic arrow!” laughed Iktomi. And when + the bird with the yellow breast sang loud again—“Koda Ni Dakota! + Friend, you're a Dakota!” Iktomi put his hand over his mouth as he threw + his head far backward, laughing at both the bird and man. + </p> + <p> + “He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! He is a + Dakota, but soon he'll grow into the bark on this tree! Ha! ha! ha!” he + laughed again. + </p> + <p> + The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and nearer toward the + lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! swish! of the stranger's + feet through the tall grass. He was passing now beyond the tree, when + Iktomi, springing to his feet, called out: “How, how, my friend! I see you + are dressed in handsome deerskins and have red paint on your cheeks. You + are going to some feast or dance, may I ask?” Seeing the young man only + smiled Iktomi went on: “I have not had a mouthful of food this day. Have + pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for me!” With these words + Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat a bird on the highest + branch. The young avenger, always ready to help those in distress, sent an + arrow upward and the bird fell. In the next branch it was caught between + the forked prongs. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb so high. I + would get dizzy and fall,” pleaded Iktomi. The avenger began to scale the + tree, when Iktomi cried to him: “My friend, your beaded buckskins may be + torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon the grass till you are down + again.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” replied the young man, quickly slipping off his long + fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and tinkling ornaments, + he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the tree unhindered. Soon from + the top he took the bird. “My friend, toss to me your arrow that I may + have the honor of wiping it clean on soft deerskin!” exclaimed Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + “How!” said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the ground. + </p> + <p> + At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the grass and then on + a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words all the while. The young + man, stepping downward from limb to limb, hearing the low muttering, said: + “Iktomi, I cannot hear what you say!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart.” + </p> + <p> + Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition of charm + words. “Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree,” he whispered. Still + the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly dropping the arrow and + standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: “Grow fast to the bark of the tree!” + Before the brave could leap from the tree he became tight-grown to the + bark. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ha!” laughed the bad Iktomi. “I have the magic arrow! I have the + beaded buckskins of the great avenger!” Hooting and dancing beneath the + tree, he said: “I shall kill the red eagle; I shall wed the chieftain's + beautiful daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Iktomi, set me free!” begged the tree-bound Dakota brave. But + Iktomi's ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did not hear with them. + </p> + <p> + Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic arrow in his + right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the swaying strides of the + avenger, he walked away with a face turned slightly skyward. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! Cut me loose!” + moaned the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly bound + willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard the wailing + man's voice. She paused to listen to the sad words. Looking around she saw + nowhere a human creature. “It may be a spirit,” thought she. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! He has made me + bark of his tree!” cried the voice again. + </p> + <p> + The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. With her stone + axe she hurried to the tree. There before her astonished eyes clung a + young brave close to the tree. + </p> + <p> + Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger tree-bound, + she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she drew it to the + ground. With it came the young man also. Free once more, he started away. + Looking backward, a few paces from the young woman, he waved his hand, + upward and downward, before her face. This was a sign of gratitude used + when words failed to interpret strong emotion. + </p> + <p> + When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a pony and + rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground in the east, to + the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she carried her story. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + </h2> + <p> + A MAN in buckskins sat upon the top of a little hillock. The setting sun + shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand. His face was turned toward the + round camp ground at the foot of the hill. He had walked a long journey + hither. He was waiting for the chieftain's men to spy him. + </p> + <p> + Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward the hillock, + where sat the man with the long bow. + </p> + <p> + “He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle,” cried the runners to each + other as they bent forward swinging their elbows together. + </p> + <p> + They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed them. Proud and + silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams beneath him. Spreading a + handsomely decorated buffalo robe before the man, two of the warriors + lifted him by each shoulder and placed him gently on it. Then the four men + took, each, a corner of the blanket and carried the stranger, with long + proud steps, toward the chieftain's teepee. + </p> + <p> + Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the entrance way. + “How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!” said he, extending to him + a smooth soft hand. + </p> + <p> + “How, great chieftain!” replied the man, holding long the chieftain's + hand. Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the young man to the + right side of the doorway, while he sat down opposite him with a center + fire burning between them. Wordless, like a bashful Indian maid, the + avenger ate in silence the food set before him on the ground in front of + his crossed shins. When he had finished his meal he handed the empty bowl + to the chieftain's wife, saying, “Mother-in-law, here is your dish!” + </p> + <p> + “Han, my son!” answered the woman, taking the bowl. + </p> + <p> + With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in the least too + presuming in addressing the woman as his mother-in-law. + </p> + <p> + Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket and soon + within the chieftain's teepee he lay fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + “The young man is not handsome after all!” whispered the woman in her + husband's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem handsome enough!” + answered the chieftain. + </p> + <p> + That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky reached the + low northern horizon, before the center fires within the teepees had + flickered out. The ringing laughter which had floated up through the smoke + lapels was now hushed, and only the distant howling of wolves broke the + quiet of the village. But the lull between midnight and dawn was short + indeed. Very early the oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust aside and many + brown faces peered out of the wigwams toward the top of the highest bluff. + </p> + <p> + Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger stood ready + within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle. He appeared, that + terrible bird! He hovered over the round village as if he could pounce + down upon it and devour the whole tribe. + </p> + <p> + When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers thrust a + hand quickly over their half-uttered “hinnu!” The second and the third + arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red eagle soaring with + lazy indifference over the little man with the long bow. All his arrows he + spent in vain. “Ah! my blanket brushed my elbow and shifted the course of + my arrow!” said the stranger as the people gathered around him. + </p> + <p> + During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at the + chieftain's teepee. It was no other than the young woman who cut loose the + tree-bound captive! + </p> + <p> + While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast face. “I + passed him on my way. He is near!” she ended. + </p> + <p> + Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the chieftain snapped + fire like red cinders in the night time. His lips were closed. At length + to the woman he said: “How, you have done me a good deed.” Then with quick + decision he gave command to a fleet horseman to meet the avenger. “Clothe + him in these my best buckskins,” said he, pointing to a bundle within the + wigwam. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi and dragged him by his long hair + to the hilltop. There upon a mock-pillared grave they bound him hand and + feet. Grown-ups and children sneered and hooted at Iktomi's disgrace. For + a half-day he lay there, the laughing-stock of the people. Upon the + arrival of the real avenger, Iktomi was released and chased away beyond + the outer limits of the camp ground. + </p> + <p> + On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of half-open + door-flaps. + </p> + <p> + There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in beaded + buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped arrow. Again the + big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. He plumed his feathers + and flapped his huge wings. + </p> + <p> + The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow on the bow, + drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle. + </p> + <p> + The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, two, three + times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height and fell heavily to + the earth. An arrow stuck in his breast! He was dead! + </p> + <p> + So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that no one had + seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow. + </p> + <p> + In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the avenger, plucking + a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, a loud shout of the + people went up to the sky. Then hither and thither ran singing men and + women making a great feast for the avenger. + </p> + <p> + Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of telling to + her children the story of the big red eagle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + </h2> + <p> + THE huntsman Patkasa (turtle) stood bent over a newly slain deer. + </p> + <p> + The red-tipped arrow he drew from the wounded deer was unlike the arrows + in his own quiver. Another's stray shot had killed the deer. Patkasa had + hunted all the morning without so much as spying an ordinary blackbird. + </p> + <p> + At last returning homeward, tired and heavy-hearted that he had no meat + for the hungry mouths in his wigwam, he walked slowly with downcast eyes. + Kind ghosts pitied the unhappy hunter and led him to the newly slain deer, + that his children should not cry for food. + </p> + <p> + When Patkasa stumbled upon the deer in his path, he exclaimed: “Good + spirits have pushed me hither!” + </p> + <p> + Thus he leaned long over the gift of the friendly ghosts. + </p> + <p> + “How, my friend!” said a voice behind his ear, and a hand fell on his + shoulder. It was not a spirit this time. It was old Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + “How, Iktomi!” answered Patkasa, still stooping over the deer. + </p> + <p> + “My friend, you are a skilled hunter,” began Iktomi, smiling a thin smile + which spread from one ear to the other. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly raising up his head Patkasa's black eyes twinkled as he asked: + “Oh, you really say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my friend, you are a skillful fellow. Now let us have a little + contest. Let us see who can jump over the deer without touching a hair on + his hide,” suggested Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I fear I cannot do it!” cried Patkasa, rubbing his funny, thick palms + together. + </p> + <p> + “Have no coward's doubt, Patkasa. I say you are a skillful fellow who + finds nothing hard to do.” With these words Iktomi led Patkasa a short + distance away. In little puffs Patkasa laughed uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Now, you may jump first,” said Iktomi. + </p> + <p> + Patkasa, with doubled fists, swung his fat arms to and fro, all the while + biting hard his under lip. + </p> + <p> + Just before the run and leap Iktomi put in: “Let the winner have the deer + to eat!” + </p> + <p> + It was too late now to say no. Patkasa was more afraid of being called a + coward than of losing the deer. “Ho-wo,” he replied, still working his + short arms. At length he started off on the run. So quick and small were + his steps that he seemed to be kicking the ground only. Then the leap! But + Patkasa tripped upon a stick and fell hard against the side of the deer. + </p> + <p> + “He-he-he!” exclaimed Iktomi, pretending disappointment that his friend + had fallen. + </p> + <p> + Lifting him to his feet, he said: “Now it is my turn to try the high + jump!” Hardly was the last word spoken than Iktomi gave a leap high above + the deer. + </p> + <p> + “The game is mine!” laughed he, patting the sullen Patkasa on the back. + “My friend, watch the deer while I go to bring my children,” said Iktomi, + darting lightly through the tall grass. + </p> + <p> + Patkasa was always ready to believe the words of scheming people and to do + the little favors any one asked of him. However, on this occasion, he did + not answer “Yes, my friend.” He realized that Iktomi's flattering tongue + had made him foolish. + </p> + <p> + He turned up his nose at Iktomi, now almost out of sight, as much as to + say: “Oh, no, Ikto; I do not hear your words!” + </p> + <p> + Soon there came a murmur of voices. The sound of laughter grew louder and + louder. All of a sudden it became hushed. Old Iktomi led his young Iktomi + brood to the place where he had left the turtle, but it was vacant. + Nowhere was there any sign of Patkasa or the deer. Then the babes did + howl! + </p> + <p> + “Be still!” said father Iktomi to his children. “I know where Patkasa + lives. Follow me. I shall take you to the turtle's dwelling.” He ran along + a narrow footpath toward the creek near by. Close upon his heels came his + children with tear-streaked faces. + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Iktomi in a loud whisper as he gathered his little ones on + the bank. “There is Patkasa broiling venison! There is his teepee, and the + savory fire is in his front yard!” + </p> + <p> + The young Iktomis stretched their necks and rolled their round black eyes + like newly hatched birds. They peered into the water. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I will cool Patkasa's fire. I shall bring you the broiled venison. + Watch closely. When you see the black coals rise to the surface of the + water, clap your hands and shout aloud, for soon after that sign I shall + return to you with some tender meat.” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying Iktomi plunged into the creek. Splash! splash! the water + leaped upward into spray. Scarcely had it become leveled and smooth than + there bubbled up many black spots. The creek was seething with the dancing + of round black things. + </p> + <p> + “The cooled fire! The coals!” laughed the brood of Iktomis. Clapping + together their little hands, they chased one another along the edge of the + creek. They shouted and hooted with great glee. + </p> + <p> + “Ahas!” said a gruff voice across the water. It was Patkasa. In a large + willow tree leaning far over the water he sat upon a large limb. On the + very same branch was a bright burning fire over which Patkasa broiled the + venison. By this time the water was calm again. No more danced those black + spots on its surface, for they were the toes of old Iktomi. He was + drowned. + </p> + <p> + The Iktomi children hurried away from the creek, crying and calling for + their water-dead father. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + </h2> + <p> + IT was night upon the prairie. Overhead the stars were twinkling bright + their red and yellow lights. The moon was young. A silvery thread among + the stars, it soon drifted low beneath the horizon. + </p> + <p> + Upon the ground the land was pitchy black. There are night people on the + plain who love the dark. Amid the black level land they meet to frolic + under the stars. Then when their sharp ears hear any strange footfalls + nigh they scamper away into the deep shadows of night. There they are + safely hid from all dangers, they think. + </p> + <p> + Thus it was that one very black night, afar off from the edge of the level + land, out of the wooded river bottom glided forth two balls of fire. They + came farther and farther into the level land. They grew larger and + brighter. The dark hid the body of the creature with those fiery eyes. + They came on and on, just over the tops of the prairie grass. It might + have been a wildcat prowling low on soft, stealthy feet. Slowly but surely + the terrible eyes drew nearer and nearer to the heart of the level land. + </p> + <p> + There in a huge old buffalo skull was a gay feast and dance! Tiny little + field mice were singing and dancing in a circle to the boom-boom of a wee, + wee drum. They were laughing and talking among themselves while their + chosen singers sang loud a merry tune. + </p> + <p> + They built a small open fire within the center of their queer dance house. + The light streamed out of the buffalo skull through all the curious + sockets and holes. + </p> + <p> + A light on the plain in the middle of the night was an unusual thing. But + so merry were the mice they did not hear the “king, king” of sleepy birds, + disturbed by the unaccustomed fire. + </p> + <p> + A pack of wolves, fearing to come nigh this night fire, stood together a + little distance away, and, turning their pointed noses to the stars, + howled and yelped most dismally. Even the cry of the wolves was unheeded + by the mice within the lighted buffalo skull. + </p> + <p> + They were feasting and dancing; they were singing and laughing—those + funny little furry fellows. + </p> + <p> + All the while across the dark from out the low river bottom came that pair + of fiery eyes. + </p> + <p> + Now closer and more swift, now fiercer and glaring, the eyes moved toward + the buffalo skull. All unconscious of those fearful eyes, the happy mice + nibbled at dried roots and venison. The singers had started another song. + The drummers beat the time, turning their heads from side to side in + rhythm. In a ring around the fire hopped the mice, each bouncing hard on + his two hind feet. Some carried their tails over their arms, while others + trailed them proudly along. + </p> + <p> + Ah, very near are those round yellow eyes! Very low to the ground they + seem to creep—creep toward the buffalo skull. All of a sudden they + slide into the eye-sockets of the old skull. + </p> + <p> + “Spirit of the buffalo!” squeaked a frightened mouse as he jumped out from + a hole in the back part of the skull. + </p> + <p> + “A cat! a cat!” cried other mice as they scrambled out of holes both large + and snug. Noiseless they ran away into the dark. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TOAD AND THE BOY + </h2> + <p> + THE water-fowls were flying over the marshy lakes. It was now the hunting + season. Indian men, with bows and arrows, were wading waist deep amid the + wild rice. Near by, within their wigwams, the wives were roasting wild + duck and making down pillows. + </p> + <p> + In the largest teepee sat a young mother wrapping red porcupine quills + about the long fringes of a buckskin cushion. Beside her lay a black-eyed + baby boy cooing and laughing. Reaching and kicking upward with his tiny + hands and feet, he played with the dangling strings of his heavy-beaded + bonnet hanging empty on a tent pole above him. + </p> + <p> + At length the mother laid aside her red quills and white sinew-threads. + The babe fell fast asleep. Leaning on one hand and softly whispering a + little lullaby, she threw a light cover over her baby. It was almost time + for the return of her husband. + </p> + <p> + Remembering there were no willow sticks for the fire, she quickly girdled + her blanket tight about her waist, and with a short-handled ax slipped + through her belt, she hurried away toward the wooded ravine. She was + strong and swung an ax as skillfully as any man. Her loose buckskin dress + was made for such freedom. Soon carrying easily a bundle of long willows + on her back, with a loop of rope over both her shoulders, she came + striding homeward. + </p> + <p> + Near the entrance way she stooped low, at once shifting the bundle to the + right and with both hands lifting the noose from over her head. Having + thus dropped the wood to the ground, she disappeared into her teepee. In a + moment she came running out again, crying, “My son! My little son is + gone!” Her keen eyes swept east and west and all around her. There was + nowhere any sign of the child. + </p> + <p> + Running with clinched fists to the nearest teepees, she called: “Has any + one seen my baby? He is gone! My little son is gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Hinnu! Hinnu!” exclaimed the women, rising to their feet and rushing out + of their wigwams. + </p> + <p> + “We have not seen your child! What has happened?” queried the women. + </p> + <p> + With great tears in her eyes the mother told her story. + </p> + <p> + “We will search with you,” they said to her as she started off. + </p> + <p> + They met the returning husbands, who turned about and joined in the hunt + for the missing child. Along the shore of the lakes, among the high-grown + reeds, they looked in vain. He was nowhere to be found. After many days + and nights the search was given up. It was sad, indeed, to hear the mother + wailing aloud for her little son. + </p> + <p> + It was growing late in the autumn. The birds were flying high toward the + south. The teepees around the lakes were gone, save one lonely dwelling. + </p> + <p> + Till the winter snow covered the ground and ice covered the lakes, the + wailing woman's voice was heard from that solitary wigwam. From some far + distance was also the sound of the father's voice singing a sad song. + </p> + <p> + Thus ten summers and as many winters have come and gone since the strange + disappearance of the little child. Every autumn with the hunters came the + unhappy parents of the lost baby to search again for him. + </p> + <p> + Toward the latter part of the tenth season when, one by one, the teepees + were folded and the families went away from the lake region, the mother + walked again along the lake shore weeping. One evening, across the lake + from where the crying woman stood, a pair of bright black eyes peered at + her through the tall reeds and wild rice. A little wild boy stopped his + play among the tall grasses. His long, loose hair hanging down his brown + back and shoulders was carelessly tossed from his round face. He wore a + loin cloth of woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the marshy ground, he + listened to the wailing voice. As the voice grew hoarse and only sobs + shook the slender figure of the woman, the eyes of the wild boy grew dim + and wet. + </p> + <p> + At length, when the moaning ceased, he sprang to his feet and ran like a + nymph with swift outstretched toes. He rushed into a small hut of reeds + and grasses. + </p> + <p> + “Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice it was I heard which pleased my ears, + but made my eyes grow wet!” said he, breathless. + </p> + <p> + “Han, my son,” grunted a big, ugly toad. “It was the voice of a weeping + woman you heard. My son, do not say you like it. Do not tell me it brought + tears to your eyes. You have never heard me weep. I can please your ear + and break your heart. Listen!” replied the great old toad. + </p> + <p> + Stepping outside, she stood by the entrance way. She was old and badly + puffed out. She had reared a large family of little toads, but none of + them had aroused her love, nor ever grieved her. She had heard the wailing + human voice and marveled at the throat which produced the strange sound. + Now, in her great desire to keep the stolen boy awhile longer, she + ventured to cry as the Dakota woman does. In a gruff, coarse voice she + broke forth: + </p> + <p> + “Hin-hin, doe-skin! Hin-hin, Ermine, Ermine! Hin-hin, red blanket, with + white border!” + </p> + <p> + Not knowing that the syllables of a Dakota's cry are the names of loved + ones gone, the ugly toad mother sought to please the boy's ear with the + names of valuable articles. Having shrieked in a torturing voice and + mouthed extravagant names, the old toad rolled her tearless eyes with + great satisfaction. Hopping back into her dwelling, she asked: + </p> + <p> + “My son, did my voice bring tears to your eyes? Did my words bring + gladness to your ears? Do you not like my wailing better?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” pouted the boy with some impatience. “I want to hear the woman's + voice! Tell me, mother, why the human voice stirs all my feelings!” + </p> + <p> + The toad mother said within her breast, “The human child has heard and + seen his real mother. I cannot keep him longer, I fear. Oh, no, I cannot + give away the pretty creature I have taught to call me 'mother' all these + many winters.” + </p> + <p> + “Mother,” went on the child voice, “tell me one thing. Tell me why my + little brothers and sisters are all unlike me.” + </p> + <p> + The big, ugly toad, looking at her pudgy children, said: “The eldest is + always best.” + </p> + <p> + This reply quieted the boy for a while. Very closely watched the old toad + mother her stolen human son. When by chance he started off alone, she + shoved out one of her own children after him, saying: “Do not come back + without your big brother.” + </p> + <p> + Thus the wild boy with the long, loose hair sits every day on a marshy + island hid among the tall reeds. But he is not alone. Always at his feet + hops a little toad brother. One day an Indian hunter, wading in the deep + waters, spied the boy. He had heard of the baby stolen long ago. + </p> + <p> + “This is he!” murmured the hunter to himself as he ran to his wigwam. “I + saw among the tall reeds a black-haired boy at play!” shouted he to the + people. + </p> + <p> + At once the unhappy father and mother cried out, “'Tis he, our boy!” + Quickly he led them to the lake. Peeping through the wild rice, he pointed + with unsteady finger toward the boy playing all unawares. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis he! 'tis he!” cried the mother, for she knew him. + </p> + <p> + In silence the hunter stood aside, while the happy father and mother + caressed their baby boy grown tall. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + </h2> + <p> + FROM the tall grass came the voice of a crying babe. The huntsmen who were + passing nigh heard and halted. + </p> + <p> + The tallest one among them hastened toward the high grass with long, + cautious strides. He waded through the growth of green with just a head + above it all. Suddenly exclaiming “Hunhe!” he dropped out of sight. In + another instant he held up in both his hands a tiny little baby, wrapped + in soft brown buckskins. + </p> + <p> + “Oh ho, a wood-child!” cried the men, for they were hunting along the + wooded river bottom where this babe was found. + </p> + <p> + While the hunters were questioning whether or no they should carry it + home, the wee Indian baby kept up his little howl. + </p> + <p> + “His voice is strong!” said one. + </p> + <p> + “At times it sounds like an old man's voice!” whispered a superstitious + fellow, who feared some bad spirit hid in the small child to cheat them by + and by. + </p> + <p> + “Let us take it to our wise chieftain,” at length they said; and the + moment they started toward the camp ground the strange wood-child ceased + to cry. + </p> + <p> + Beside the chieftain's teepee waited the hunters while the tall man + entered with the child. + </p> + <p> + “How! how!” nodded the kind-faced chieftain, listening to the queer story. + Then rising, he took the infant in his strong arms; gently he laid the + black-eyed babe in his daughter's lap. “This is to be your little son!” + said he, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, father,” she replied. Pleased with the child, she smoothed the long + black hair fringing his round brown face. + </p> + <p> + “Tell the people that I give a feast and dance this day for the naming of + my daughter's little son,” bade the chieftain. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile among the men waiting by the entrance way, one said in a + low voice: “I have heard that bad spirits come as little children into a + camp which they mean to destroy.” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! Let us not be overcautious. It would be cowardly to leave a baby + in the wild wood where prowl the hungry wolves!” answered an elderly man. + </p> + <p> + The tall man now came out of the chieftain's teepee. With a word he sent + them to their dwellings half running with joy. + </p> + <p> + “A feast! a dance for the naming of the chieftain's grandchild!” cried he + in a loud voice to the village people. + </p> + <p> + “What? what?” asked they in great surprise, holding a hand to the ear to + catch the words of the crier. + </p> + <p> + There was a momentary silence among the people while they listened to the + ringing voice of the man walking in the center ground. Then broke forth a + rippling, laughing babble among the cone-shaped teepees. All were glad to + hear of the chieftain's grandson. They were happy to attend the feast and + dance for its naming. With excited fingers they twisted their hair into + glossy braids and painted their cheeks with bright red paint. To and fro + hurried the women, handsome in their gala-day dress. Men in loose + deerskins, with long tinkling metal fringes, strode in small numbers + toward the center of the round camp ground. + </p> + <p> + Here underneath a temporary shade-house of green leaves they were to dance + and feast. The children in deerskins and paints, just like their elders, + were jolly little men and women. Beside their eager parents they skipped + along toward the green dance house. + </p> + <p> + Here seated in a large circle, the people were assembled, the proud + chieftain rose with the little baby in his arms. The noisy hum of voices + was hushed. Not a tinkling of a metal fringe broke the silence. The crier + came forward to greet the chieftain, then bent attentively over the small + babe, listening to the words of the chieftain. When he paused the crier + spoke aloud to the people: + </p> + <p> + “This woodland child is adopted by the chieftain's eldest daughter. His + name is Chaske. He wears the title of the eldest son. In honor of Chaske + the chieftain gives this feast and dance! These are the words of him you + see holding a baby in his arms.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes! Hinnu! How!” came from the circle. At once the drummers beat + softly and slowly their drum while the chosen singers hummed together to + find the common pitch. The beat of the drum grew louder and faster. The + singers burst forth in a lively tune. Then the drumbeats subsided and + faintly marked the rhythm of the singing. Here and there bounced up men + and women, both young and old. They danced and sang with merry light + hearts. Then came the hour of feasting. + </p> + <p> + Late into the night the air of the camp ground was alive with the laughing + voices of women and the singing in unison of young men. Within her + father's teepee sat the chieftain's daughter. Proud of her little one, she + watched over him asleep in her lap. + </p> + <p> + Gradually a deep quiet stole over the camp ground, as one by one the + people fell into pleasant dreams. Now all the village was still. Alone sat + the beautiful young mother watching the babe in her lap, asleep with a + gaping little mouth. Amid the quiet of the night, her ear heard the + far-off hum of many voices. The faint sound of murmuring people was in the + air. Upward she glanced at the smoke hole of the wigwam and saw a bright + star peeping down upon her. “Spirits in the air above?” she wondered. Yet + there was no sign to tell her of their nearness. The fine small sound of + voices grew larger and nearer. + </p> + <p> + “Father! rise! I hear the coming of some tribe. Hostile or friendly—I + cannot tell. Rise and see!” whispered the young woman. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my daughter!” answered the chieftain, springing to his feet. + </p> + <p> + Though asleep, his ear was ever alert. Thus rushing out into the open, he + listened for strange sounds. With an eagle eye he scanned the camp ground + for some sign. + </p> + <p> + Returning he said: “My daughter, I hear nothing and see no sign of evil + nigh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! the sound of many voices comes up from the earth about me!” exclaimed + the young mother. + </p> + <p> + Bending low over her babe she gave ear to the ground. Horrified was she to + find the mysterious sound came out of the open mouth of her sleeping + child! + </p> + <p> + “Why so unlike other babes!” she cried within her heart as she slipped him + gently from her lap to the ground. “Mother, listen and tell me if this + child is an evil spirit come to destroy our camp!” she whispered loud. + </p> + <p> + Placing an ear close to the open baby mouth, the chieftain and his wife, + each in turn heard the voices of a great camp. The singing of men and + women, the beating of the drum, the rattling of deer-hoofs strung like + bells on a string, these were the sounds they heard. + </p> + <p> + “We must go away,” said the chieftain, leading them into the night. Out in + the open he whispered to the frightened young woman: “Iya, the camp-eater, + has come in the guise of a babe. Had you gone to sleep, he would have + jumped out into his own shape and would have devoured our camp. He is a + giant with spindling legs. He cannot fight, for he cannot run. He is + powerful only in the night with his tricks. We are safe as soon as day + breaks.” Then moving closer to the woman, he whispered: “If he wakes now, + he will swallow the whole tribe with one hideous gulp! Come, we must flee + with our people.” + </p> + <p> + Thus creeping from teepee to teepee a secret alarm signal was given. At + midnight the teepees were gone and there was left no sign of the village + save heaps of dead ashes. So quietly had the people folded their wigwams + and bundled their tent poles that they slipped away unheard by the + sleeping Iya babe. + </p> + <p> + When the morning sun arose, the babe awoke. Seeing himself deserted, he + threw off his baby form in a hot rage. + </p> + <p> + Wearing his own ugly shape, his huge body toppled to and fro, from side to + side, on a pair of thin legs far too small for their burden. Though with + every move he came dangerously nigh to falling, he followed in the trail + of the fleeing people. + </p> + <p> + “I shall eat you in the sight of a noon-day sun!” cried Iya in his vain + rage, when he spied them encamped beyond a river. + </p> + <p> + By some unknown cunning he swam the river and sought his way toward the + teepees. + </p> + <p> + “Hin! hin!” he grunted and growled. With perspiration beading his brow he + strove to wiggle his slender legs beneath his giant form. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha!” laughed all the village people to see Iya made foolish with + anger. “Such spindle legs cannot stand to fight by daylight!” shouted the + brave ones who were terror-struck the night before by the name “Iya.” + </p> + <p> + Warriors with long knives rushed forth and slew the camp-eater. + </p> + <p> + Lo! there rose out of the giant a whole Indian tribe: their camp ground, + their teepees in a large circle, and the people laughing and dancing. + </p> + <p> + “We are glad to be free!” said these strange people. + </p> + <p> + Thus Iya was killed; and no more are the camp grounds in danger of being + swallowed up in a single night time. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + </h2> + <p> + MANSTIN was an adventurous brave, but very kind-hearted. Stamping a + moccasined foot as he drew on his buckskin leggins, he said: “Grandmother, + beware of Iktomi! Do not let him lure you into some cunning trap. I am + going to the North country on a long hunt.” + </p> + <p> + With these words of caution to the bent old rabbit grandmother with whom + he had lived since he was a tiny babe, Manstin started off toward the + north. He was scarce over the great high hills when he heard the shrieking + of a human child. + </p> + <p> + “Wan!” he ejaculated, pointing his long ears toward the direction of the + sound; “Wan! that is the work of cruel Double-Face. Shameless coward! he + delights in torturing helpless creatures!” + </p> + <p> + Muttering indistinct words, Manstin ran up the last hill and lo! in the + ravine beyond stood the terrible monster with a face in front and one in + the back of his head! + </p> + <p> + This brown giant was without clothes save for a wild-cat-skin about his + loins. With a wicked gleaming eye, he watched the little black-haired baby + he held in his strong arm. In a laughing voice he hummed an Indian + mother's lullaby, “A-boo! Aboo!” and at the same time he switched the + naked baby with a thorny wild-rose bush. + </p> + <p> + Quickly Manstin jumped behind a large sage bush on the brow of the hill. + He bent his bow and the sinewy string twanged. Now an arrow stuck above + the ear of Double-Face. It was a poisoned arrow, and the giant fell dead. + Then Manstin took the little brown baby and hurried away from the ravine. + Soon he came to a teepee from whence loud wailing voices broke. It was the + teepee of the stolen baby and the mourners were its heart-broken parents. + </p> + <p> + When gallant Manstin returned the child to the eager arms of the mother + there came a sudden terror into the eyes of both the Dakotas. They feared + lest it was Double-Face come in a new guise to torture them. The rabbit + understood their fear and said: “I am Manstin, the kind-hearted,—Manstin, + the noted huntsman. I am your friend. Do not fear.” + </p> + <p> + That night a strange thing happened. While the father and mother slept, + Manstin took the wee baby. With his feet placed gently yet firmly upon the + tiny toes of the little child, he drew upward by each small hand the + sleeping child till he was a full-grown man. With a forefinger he traced a + slit in the upper lip; and when on the morrow the man and woman awoke they + could not distinguish their own son from Manstin, so much alike were the + braves. + </p> + <p> + “Henceforth we are friends, to help each other,” said Manstin, shaking a + right hand in farewell. “The earth is our common ear, to carry from its + uttermost extremes one's slightest wish for the other!” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! Be it so!” answered the newly made man. + </p> + <p> + Upon leaving his friend, Manstin hurried away toward the North country + whither he was bound for a long hunt. Suddenly he came upon the edge of a + wide brook. His alert eye caught sight of a rawhide rope staked to the + water's brink, which led away toward a small round hut in the distance. + The ground was trodden into a deep groove beneath the loosely drawn + rawhide rope. + </p> + <p> + “Hun-he!” exclaimed Manstin, bending over the freshly made footprints in + the moist bank of the brook. “A man's footprints!” he said to himself. “A + blind man lives in yonder hut! This rope is his guide by which he comes + for his daily water!” surmised Manstin, who knew all the peculiar + contrivances of the people. At once his eyes became fixed upon the + solitary dwelling and hither he followed his curiosity,—a real blind + man's rope. + </p> + <p> + Quietly he lifted the door-flap and entered in. An old toothless + grandfather, blind and shaky with age, sat upon the ground. He was not + deaf however. He heard the entrance and felt the presence of some + stranger. + </p> + <p> + “How, grandchild,” he mumbled, for he was old enough to be grandparent to + every living thing, “how! I cannot see you. Pray, speak your name!” + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather, I am Manstin,” answered the rabbit, all the while looking + with curious eyes about the wigwam. + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather, what is it so tightly packed in all these buckskin bags + placed against the tent poles?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “My grandchild, those are dried buffalo meat and venison. These are magic + bags which never grow empty. I am blind and cannot go on a hunt. Hence a + kind Maker has given me these magic bags of choicest foods.” + </p> + <p> + Then the old, bent man pulled at a rope which lay by his right hand. “This + leads me to the brook where I drink! and this,” said he, turning to the + one on his left, “and this takes me into the forest, where I feel about + for dry sticks for my fire.” + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather, I wish I lived in such sure luxury! I would lean back + against a tent pole, and with crossed feet I would smoke sweet willow bark + the rest of my days,” sighed Manstin. + </p> + <p> + “My grandchild, your eyes are your luxury! you would be unhappy without + them!” the old man replied. + </p> + <p> + “Grandfather, I would give you my two eyes for your place!” cried Manstin. + </p> + <p> + “How! you have said it. Arise. Take out your eyes and give them to me. + Henceforth you are at home here in my stead.” + </p> + <p> + At once Manstin took out both his eyes and the old man put them on! + Rejoicing, the old grandfather started away with his young eyes while the + blind rabbit filled his dream pipe, leaning lazily against the tent pole. + For a short time it was a most pleasant pastime to smoke willow bark and + to eat from the magic bags. + </p> + <p> + Manstin grew thirsty, but there was no water in the small dwelling. Taking + one of the rawhide ropes he started toward the brook to quench his thirst. + He was young and unwilling to trudge slowly in the old man's footpath. He + was full of glee, for it had been many long moons since he had tasted such + good food. Thus he skipped confidently along jerking the old weather-eaten + rawhide spasmodically till all of a sudden it gave way and Manstin fell + headlong into the water. + </p> + <p> + “En! En!” he grunted kicking frantically amid stream. All along the + slippery bank he vainly tried to climb, till at last he chanced upon the + old stake and the deeply worn footpath. Exhausted and inwardly disgusted + with his mishaps, he crawled more cautiously on all fours to his wigwam + door. Dripping with his recent plunge he sat with chattering teeth within + his unfired wigwam. + </p> + <p> + The sun had set and the night air was chilly, but there was no fire-wood + in the dwelling. “Hin!” murmured Manstin and bravely tried the other rope. + “I go for some fire-wood!” he said, following the rawhide rope which led + into the forest. Soon he stumbled upon thickly strewn dry willow sticks. + Eagerly with both hands he gathered the wood into his outspread blanket. + Manstin was naturally an energetic fellow. + </p> + <p> + When he had a large heap, he tied two opposite ends of blanket together + and lifted the bundle of wood upon his back, but alas! he had + unconsciously dropped the end of the rope and now he was lost in the wood! + </p> + <p> + “Hin! hin!” he groaned. Then pausing a moment, he set his fan-like ears to + catch any sound of approaching footsteps. There was none. Not even a night + bird twittered to help him out of his predicament. + </p> + <p> + With a bold face, he made a start at random. + </p> + <p> + He fell into some tangled wood where he was held fast. Manstin let go his + bundle and began to lament having given away his two eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Friend, my friend, I have need of you! The old oak tree grandfather has + gone off with my eyes and I am lost in the woods!” he cried with his lips + close to the earth. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he spoken when the sound of voices was audible on the outer + edge of the forest. Nearer and louder grew the voices—one was the + clear flute tones of a young brave and the other the tremulous squeaks of + an old grandfather. + </p> + <p> + It was Manstin's friend with the Earth Ear and the old grandfather. “Here + Manstin, take back your eyes,” said the old man, “I knew you would not be + content in my stead, but I wanted you to learn your lesson. I have had + pleasure seeing with your eyes and trying your bow and arrows, but since I + am old and feeble I much prefer my own teepee and my magic bags!” + </p> + <p> + Thus talking the three returned to the hut. The old grandfather crept into + his wigwam, which is often mistaken for a mere oak tree by little Indian + girls and boys. + </p> + <p> + Manstin, with his own bright eyes fitted into his head again, went on + happily to hunt in the North country. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WARLIKE SEVEN + </h2> + <p> + ONCE seven people went out to make war,—the Ashes, the Fire, the + Bladder, the Grasshopper, the Dragon Fly, the Fish, and the Turtle. As + they were talking excitedly, waving their fists in violent gestures, a + wind came and blew the Ashes away. “Ho!” cried the others, “he could not + fight, this one!” + </p> + <p> + The six went on running to make war more quickly. They descended a deep + valley, the Fire going foremost until they came to a river. The Fire said + “Hsss—tchu!” and was gone. “Ho!” hooted the others, “he could not + fight, this one!” + </p> + <p> + Therefore the five went on the more quickly to make war. They came to a + great wood. While they were going through it, the Bladder was heard to + sneer and to say, “He! you should rise above these, brothers.” With these + words he went upward among the tree-tops; and the thorn apple pricked him. + He fell through the branches and was nothing! “You see this!” said the + four, “this one could not fight.” + </p> + <p> + Still the remaining warriors would not turn back. The four went boldly on + to make war. The Grasshopper with his cousin, the Dragon Fly, went + foremost. They reached a marshy place, and the mire was very deep. As they + waded through the mud, the Grasshopper's legs stuck, and he pulled them + off! He crawled upon a log and wept, “You see me, brothers, I cannot go!” + </p> + <p> + The Dragon Fly went on, weeping for his cousin. He would not be comforted, + for he loved his cousin dearly. The more he grieved, the louder he cried, + till his body shook with great violence. He blew his red swollen nose with + a loud noise so that his head came off his slender neck, and he was fallen + upon the grass. + </p> + <p> + “You see how it is,” said the Fish, lashing his tail impatiently, “these + people were not warriors!” + </p> + <p> + “Come!” he said, “let us go on to make war.” + </p> + <p> + Thus the Fish and the Turtle came to a large camp ground. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” exclaimed the people of this round village of teepees, “Who are + these little ones? What do they seek?” + </p> + <p> + Neither of the warriors carried weapons with them, and their unimposing + stature misled the curious people. + </p> + <p> + The Fish was spokesman. With a peculiar omission of syllables, he said: + “Shu... hi pi!” + </p> + <p> + “Wan! what? what?” clamored eager voices of men and women. + </p> + <p> + Again the Fish said: “Shu... hi pi!” Everywhere stood young and old with a + palm to an ear. Still no one guessed what the Fish had mumbled! + </p> + <p> + From the bewildered crowd witty old Iktomi came forward. “He, listen!” he + shouted, rubbing his mischievous palms together, for where there was any + trouble brewing, he was always in the midst of it. + </p> + <p> + “This little strange man says, 'Zuya unhipi! We come to make war!'” + </p> + <p> + “Uun!” resented the people, suddenly stricken glum. “Let us kill the silly + pair! They can do nothing! They do not know the meaning of the phrase. Let + us build a fire and boil them both!” + </p> + <p> + “If you put us on to boil,” said the Fish, “there will be trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho ho!” laughed the village folk. “We shall see.” + </p> + <p> + And so they made a fire. + </p> + <p> + “I have never been so angered!” said the Fish. The Turtle in a whispered + reply said: “We shall die!” + </p> + <p> + When a pair of strong hands lifted the Fish over the sputtering water, he + put his mouth downward. “Whssh!” he said. He blew the water all over the + people, so that many were burned and could not see. Screaming with pain, + they ran away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what shall we do with these dreadful ones?” they said. + </p> + <p> + Others exclaimed: “Let us carry them to the lake of muddy water and drown + them!” + </p> + <p> + Instantly they ran with them. They threw the Fish and the Turtle into the + lake. Toward the center of the large lake the Turtle dived. There he + peeped up out of the water and, waving a hand at the crowd, sang out, + “This is where I live!” + </p> + <p> + The Fish swam hither and thither with such frolicsome darts that his back + fin made the water fly. “E han!” whooped the Fish, “this is where I live!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what have we done!” said the frightened people, “this will be our + undoing.” + </p> + <p> + Then a wise chief said: “Iya, the Eater, shall come and swallow the lake!” + </p> + <p> + So one went running. He brought Iya, the Eater; and Iya drank all day at + the lake till his belly was like the earth. Then the Fish and the Turtle + dived into the mud; and Iya said: “They are not in me.” Hearing this the + people cried greatly. + </p> + <p> + Iktomi wading in the lake had been swallowed like a gnat in the water. + Within the great Iya he was looking skyward. So deep was the water in the + Eater's stomach that the surface of the swallowed lake almost touched the + sky. + </p> + <p> + “I will go that way,” said Iktomi, looking at the concave within arm's + reach. + </p> + <p> + He struck his knife upward in the Eater's stomach, and the water falling + out drowned those people of the village. + </p> + <p> + Now when the great water fell into its own bed, the Fish and the Turtle + came to the shore. They went home painted victors and loud-voiced singers. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Indian Legends, by Zitkala-Sa + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 338-h.htm or 338-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/338/ + +Produced by Judith Boss, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Old Indian Legends + +Author: Zitkala-Sa + +Release Date: July 5, 2008 [EBook #338] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + +Retold By Zitkala-Sa + + + + +ITKALA-SA. + + + + + +CONTENTS + + + IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + IKTOMI'S BLANKET + IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + THE TREE-BOUND + SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + THE TOAD AND THE BOY + IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + + +IKTOMI is a spider fairy. He wears brown deerskin leggins with long soft +fringes on either side, and tiny beaded moccasins on his feet. His long +black hair is parted in the middle and wrapped with red, red bands. +Each round braid hangs over a small brown ear and falls forward over his +shoulders. + +He even paints his funny face with red and yellow, and draws big black +rings around his eyes. He wears a deerskin jacket, with bright colored +beads sewed tightly on it. Iktomi dresses like a real Dakota brave. In +truth, his paint and deerskins are the best part of him--if ever dress +is part of man or fairy. + +Iktomi is a wily fellow. His hands are always kept in mischief. He +prefers to spread a snare rather than to earn the smallest thing with +honest hunting. Why! he laughs outright with wide open mouth when some +simple folk are caught in a trap, sure and fast. + +He never dreams another lives so bright as he. Often his own conceit +leads him hard against the common sense of simpler people. + +Poor Iktomi cannot help being a little imp. And so long as he is a +naughty fairy, he cannot find a single friend. No one helps him when +he is in trouble. No one really loves him. Those who come to admire his +handsome beaded jacket and long fringed leggins soon go away sick and +tired of his vain, vain words and heartless laughter. + +Thus Iktomi lives alone in a cone-shaped wigwam upon the plain. One day +he sat hungry within his teepee. Suddenly he rushed out, dragging after +him his blanket. Quickly spreading it on the ground, he tore up dry tall +grass with both his hands and tossed it fast into the blanket. + +Tying all the four corners together in a knot, he threw the light bundle +of grass over his shoulder. + +Snatching up a slender willow stick with his free left hand, he started +off with a hop and a leap. From side to side bounced the bundle on his +back, as he ran light-footed over the uneven ground. Soon he came to the +edge of the great level land. On the hilltop he paused for breath. With +wicked smacks of his dry parched lips, as if tasting some tender meat, +he looked straight into space toward the marshy river bottom. With a +thin palm shading his eyes from the western sun, he peered far away into +the lowlands, munching his own cheeks all the while. "Ah-ha!" grunted +he, satisfied with what he saw. + +A group of wild ducks were dancing and feasting in the marshes. With +wings outspread, tip to tip, they moved up and down in a large circle. +Within the ring, around a small drum, sat the chosen singers, nodding +their heads and blinking their eyes. + +They sang in unison a merry dance-song, and beat a lively tattoo on the +drum. + +Following a winding footpath near by, came a bent figure of a Dakota +brave. He bore on his back a very large bundle. With a willow cane he +propped himself up as he staggered along beneath his burden. + +"Ho! who is there?" called out a curious old duck, still bobbing up and +down in the circular dance. + +Hereupon the drummers stretched their necks till they strangled their +song for a look at the stranger passing by. + +"Ho, Iktomi! Old fellow, pray tell us what you carry in your blanket. Do +not hurry off! Stop! halt!" urged one of the singers. + +"Stop! stay! Show us what is in your blanket!" cried out other voices. + +"My friends, I must not spoil your dance. Oh, you would not care to see +if you only knew what is in my blanket. Sing on! dance on! I must not +show you what I carry on my back," answered Iktomi, nudging his own +sides with his elbows. This reply broke up the ring entirely. Now all +the ducks crowded about Iktomi. + +"We must see what you carry! We must know what is in your blanket!" +they shouted in both his ears. Some even brushed their wings against the +mysterious bundle. Nudging himself again, wily Iktomi said, "My friends, +'t is only a pack of songs I carry in my blanket." + +"Oh, then let us hear your songs!" cried the curious ducks. + +At length Iktomi consented to sing his songs. With delight all the ducks +flapped their wings and cried together, "Hoye! hoye!" + +Iktomi, with great care, laid down his bundle on the ground. + +"I will build first a round straw house, for I never sing my songs in +the open air," said he. + +Quickly he bent green willow sticks, planting both ends of each pole +into the earth. These he covered thick with reeds and grasses. Soon the +straw hut was ready. One by one the fat ducks waddled in through a small +opening, which was the only entrance way. Beside the door Iktomi stood +smiling, as the ducks, eyeing his bundle of songs, strutted into the +hut. + +In a strange low voice Iktomi began his queer old tunes. All the ducks +sat round-eyed in a circle about the mysterious singer. It was dim in +that straw hut, for Iktomi had not forgot to cover up the small entrance +way. All of a sudden his song burst into full voice. As the startled +ducks sat uneasily on the ground, Iktomi changed his tune into a minor +strain. These were the words he sang: + +"Istokmus wacipo, tuwayatunwanpi kinhan ista nisasapi kta," which is, +"With eyes closed you must dance. He who dares to open his eyes, forever +red eyes shall have." + +Up rose the circle of seated ducks and holding their wings close against +their sides began to dance to the rhythm of Iktomi's song and drum. + +With eyes closed they did dance! Iktomi ceased to beat his drum. He +began to sing louder and faster. He seemed to be moving about in the +center of the ring. No duck dared blink a wink. Each one shut his eyes +very tight and danced even harder. Up and down! Shifting to the right of +them they hopped round and round in that blind dance. It was a difficult +dance for the curious folk. + +At length one of the dancers could close his eyes no longer! It was a +Skiska who peeped the least tiny blink at Iktomi within the center of +the circle. "Oh! oh!" squawked he in awful terror! "Run! fly! Iktomi is +twisting your heads and breaking your necks! Run out and fly! fly!" +he cried. Hereupon the ducks opened their eyes. There beside Iktomi's +bundle of songs lay half of their crowd--flat on their backs. + +Out they flew through the opening Skiska had made as he rushed forth +with his alarm. + +But as they soared high into the blue sky they cried to one another: +"Oh! your eyes are red-red!" "And yours are red-red!" For the warning +words of the magic minor strain had proven true. "Ah-ha!" laughed +Iktomi, untying the four corners of his blanket, "I shall sit no more +hungry within my dwelling." Homeward he trudged along with nice fat +ducks in his blanket. He left the little straw hut for the rains and +winds to pull down. + +Having reached his own teepee on the high level lands, Iktomi kindled +a large fire out of doors. He planted sharp-pointed sticks around the +leaping flames. On each stake he fastened a duck to roast. A few he +buried under the ashes to bake. Disappearing within his teepee, he came +out again with some huge seashells. These were his dishes. Placing one +under each roasting duck, he muttered, "The sweet fat oozing out will +taste well with the hard-cooked breasts." + +Heaping more willows upon the fire, Iktomi sat down on the ground with +crossed shins. A long chin between his knees pointed toward the red +flames, while his eyes were on the browning ducks. + +Just above his ankles he clasped and unclasped his long bony fingers. +Now and then he sniffed impatiently the savory odor. + +The brisk wind which stirred the fire also played with a squeaky old +tree beside Iktomi's wigwam. + +From side to side the tree was swaying and crying in an old man's voice, +"Help! I'll break! I'll fall!" Iktomi shrugged his great shoulders, but +did not once take his eyes from the ducks. The dripping of amber oil +into pearly dishes, drop by drop, pleased his hungry eyes. Still the old +tree man called for help. "He! What sound is it that makes my ear ache!" +exclaimed Iktomi, holding a hand on his ear. + +He rose and looked around. The squeaking came from the tree. Then he +began climbing the tree to find the disagreeable sound. He placed his +foot right on a cracked limb without seeing it. Just then a whiff of +wind came rushing by and pressed together the broken edges. There in a +strong wooden hand Iktomi's foot was caught. + +"Oh! my foot is crushed!" he howled like a coward. In vain he pulled and +puffed to free himself. + +While sitting a prisoner on the tree he spied, through his tears, a pack +of gray wolves roaming over the level lands. Waving his hands toward +them, he called in his loudest voice, "He! Gray wolves! Don't you come +here! I'm caught fast in the tree so that my duck feast is getting cold. +Don't you come to eat up my meal." + +The leader of the pack upon hearing Iktomi's words turned to his +comrades and said: + +"Ah! hear the foolish fellow! He says he has a duck feast to be eaten! +Let us hurry there for our share!" Away bounded the wolves toward +Iktomi's lodge. + +From the tree Iktomi watched the hungry wolves eat up his nicely browned +fat ducks. His foot pained him more and more. He heard them crack the +small round bones with their strong long teeth and eat out the oily +marrow. Now severe pains shot up from his foot through his whole body. +"Hin-hin-hin!" sobbed Iktomi. Real tears washed brown streaks across his +red-painted cheeks. Smacking their lips, the wolves began to leave the +place, when Iktomi cried out like a pouting child, "At least you have +left my baking under the ashes!" + +"Ho! Po!" shouted the mischievous wolves; "he says more ducks are to be +found under the ashes! Come! Let us have our fill this once!" + +Running back to the dead fire, they pawed out the ducks with such rude +haste that a cloud of ashes rose like gray smoke over them. + +"Hin-hin-hin!" moaned Iktomi, when the wolves had scampered off. All +too late, the sturdy breeze returned, and, passing by, pulled apart the +broken edges of the tree. Iktomi was released. But alas! he had no duck +feast. + + + + +IKTOMI'S BLANKET + + +ALONE within his teepee sat Iktomi. The sun was but a handsbreadth from +the western edge of land. + +"Those, bad, bad gray wolves! They ate up all my nice fat ducks!" +muttered he, rocking his body to and fro. + +He was cuddling the evil memory he bore those hungry wolves. At last he +ceased to sway his body backward and forward, but sat still and stiff as +a stone image. + +"Oh! I'll go to Inyan, the great-grandfather, and pray for food!" he +exclaimed. + +At once he hurried forth from his teepee and, with his blanket over one +shoulder, drew nigh to a huge rock on a hillside. + +With half-crouching, half-running strides, he fell upon Inyan with +outspread hands. + +"Grandfather! pity me. I am hungry. I am starving. Give me food. +Great-grandfather, give me meat to eat!" he cried. All the while he +stroked and caressed the face of the great stone god. + +The all-powerful Great Spirit, who makes the trees and grass, can hear +the voice of those who pray in many varied ways. The hearing of +Inyan, the large hard stone, was the one most sought after. He was the +great-grandfather, for he had sat upon the hillside many, many seasons. +He had seen the prairie put on a snow-white blanket and then change it +for a bright green robe more than a thousand times. + +Still unaffected by the myriad moons he rested on the everlasting hill, +listening to the prayers of Indian warriors. Before the finding of the +magic arrow he had sat there. + +Now, as Iktomi prayed and wept before the great-grandfather, the sky in +the west was red like a glowing face. The sunset poured a soft mellow +light upon the huge gray stone and the solitary figure beside it. It +was the smile of the Great Spirit upon the grandfather and the wayward +child. + +The prayer was heard. Iktomi knew it. "Now, grandfather, accept my +offering; 'tis all I have," said Iktomi as he spread his half-worn +blanket upon Inyan's cold shoulders. Then Iktomi, happy with the smile +of the sunset sky, followed a footpath leading toward a thicketed +ravine. He had not gone many paces into the shrubbery when before him +lay a freshly wounded deer! + +"This is the answer from the red western sky!" cried Iktomi with hands +uplifted. + +Slipping a long thin blade from out his belt, he cut large chunks of +choice meat. Sharpening some willow sticks, he planted them around a +wood-pile he had ready to kindle. On these stakes he meant to roast the +venison. + +While he was rubbing briskly two long sticks to start a fire, the sun in +the west fell out of the sky below the edge of land. Twilight was over +all. Iktomi felt the cold night air upon his bare neck and shoulders. +"Ough!" he shivered as he wiped his knife on the grass. Tucking it in a +beaded case hanging from his belt, Iktomi stood erect, looking about. +He shivered again. "Ough! Ah! I am cold. I wish I had my blanket!" +whispered he, hovering over the pile of dry sticks and the sharp stakes +round about it. Suddenly he paused and dropped his hands at his sides. + +"The old great-grandfather does not feel the cold as I do. He does not +need my old blanket as I do. I wish I had not given it to him. Oh! I +think I'll run up there and take it back!" said he, pointing his long +chin toward the large gray stone. + +Iktomi, in the warm sunshine, had no need of his blanket, and it had +been very easy to part with a thing which he could not miss. But the +chilly night wind quite froze his ardent thank-offering. + +Thus running up the hillside, his teeth chattering all the way, he drew +near to Inyan, the sacred symbol. Seizing one corner of the half-worn +blanket, Iktomi pulled it off with a jerk. + +"Give my blanket back, old grandfather! You do not need it. I do!" This +was very wrong, yet Iktomi did it, for his wit was not wisdom. Drawing +the blanket tight over his shoulders, he descended the hill with +hurrying feet. + +He was soon upon the edge of the ravine. A young moon, like a bright +bent bow, climbed up from the southwest horizon a little way into the +sky. + +In this pale light Iktomi stood motionless as a ghost amid the thicket. +His woodpile was not yet kindled. His pointed stakes were still bare as +he had left them. But where was the deer--the venison he had felt warm +in his hands a moment ago? It was gone. Only the dry rib bones lay on +the ground like giant fingers from an open grave. Iktomi was troubled. +At length, stooping over the white dried bones, he took hold of one and +shook it. The bones, loose in their sockets, rattled together at his +touch. Iktomi let go his hold. He sprang back amazed. And though he wore +a blanket his teeth chattered more than ever. Then his blunted sense +will surprise you, little reader; for instead of being grieved that he +had taken back his blanket, he cried aloud, "Hin-hin-hin! If only I had +eaten the venison before going for my blanket!" + +Those tears no longer moved the hand of the Generous Giver. They were +selfish tears. The Great Spirit does not heed them ever. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + + +BESIDE a white lake, beneath a large grown willow tree, sat Iktomi on +the bare ground. The heap of smouldering ashes told of a recent open +fire. With ankles crossed together around a pot of soup, Iktomi bent +over some delicious boiled fish. + +Fast he dipped his black horn spoon into the soup, for he was ravenous. +Iktomi had no regular meal times. Often when he was hungry he went +without food. + +Well hid between the lake and the wild rice, he looked nowhere save into +the pot of fish. Not knowing when the next meal would be, he meant to +eat enough now to last some time. + +"How, how, my friend!" said a voice out of the wild rice. Iktomi +started. He almost choked with his soup. He peered through the long +reeds from where he sat with his long horn spoon in mid-air. + +"How, my friend!" said the voice again, this time close at his side. +Iktomi turned and there stood a dripping muskrat who had just come out +of the lake. + +"Oh, it is my friend who startled me. I wondered if among the wild rice +some spirit voice was talking. How, how, my friend!" said Iktomi. The +muskrat stood smiling. On his lips hung a ready "Yes, my friend," when +Iktomi would ask, "My friend, will you sit down beside me and share my +food?" + +That was the custom of the plains people. Yet Iktomi sat silent. He +hummed an old dance-song and beat gently on the edge of the pot with his +buffalo-horn spoon. The muskrat began to feel awkward before such lack +of hospitality and wished himself under water. + +After many heart throbs Iktomi stopped drumming with his horn ladle, and +looking upward into the muskrat's face, he said: + +"My friend, let us run a race to see who shall win this pot of fish. If +I win, I shall not need to share it with you. If you win, you shall have +half of it." Springing to his feet, Iktomi began at once to tighten the +belt about his waist. + +"My friend Ikto, I cannot run a race with you! I am not a swift runner, +and you are nimble as a deer. We shall not run any race together," +answered the hungry muskrat. + +For a moment Iktomi stood with a hand on his long protruding chin. His +eyes were fixed upon something in the air. The muskrat looked out of the +corners of his eyes without moving his head. He watched the wily Iktomi +concocting a plot. + +"Yes, yes," said Iktomi, suddenly turning his gaze upon the unwelcome +visitor; "I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slacken my +usual speed; and the race will be a fair one." + +Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder and started +off along the edge of the lake. When they reached the opposite side +Iktomi pried about in search of a heavy stone. + +He found one half-buried in the shallow water. Pulling it out upon dry +land, he wrapped it in his blanket. + +"Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake, I on the +other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!" said Iktomi. + +The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back. Then +they parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds fringing the +shore. Iktomi found his load a heavy one. Perspiration hung like beads +on his brow. His chest heaved hard and fast. + +He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had gone, but +nowhere did he see any sign of him. "Well, he is running low under the +wild rice!" said he. Yet as he scanned the tall grasses on the lake +shore, he saw not one stir as if to make way for the runner. "Ah, has he +gone so fast ahead that the disturbed grasses in his trail have quieted +again?" exclaimed Iktomi. With that thought he quickly dropped the heavy +stone. "No more of this!" said he, patting his chest with both hands. + +Off with a springing bound, he ran swiftly toward the goal. Tufts of +reeds and grass fell flat under his feet. Hardly had they raised their +heads when Iktomi was many paces gone. + +Soon he reached the heap of cold ashes. Iktomi halted stiff as if he had +struck an invisible cliff. His black eyes showed a ring of white about +them as he stared at the empty ground. There was no pot of boiled fish! +There was no water-man in sight! "Oh, if only I had shared my food like +a real Dakota, I would not have lost it all! Why did I not know the +muskrat would run through the water? He swims faster than I could ever +run! That is what he has done. He has laughed at me for carrying a +weight on my back while he shot hither like an arrow!" + +Crying thus to himself, Iktomi stepped to the water's brink. He stooped +forward with a hand on each bent knee and peeped far into the deep +water. + +"There!" he exclaimed, "I see you, my friend, sitting with your ankles +wound around my little pot of fish! My friend, I am hungry. Give me a +bone!" + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the water-man, the muskrat. The sound did not rise +up out of the lake, for it came down from overhead. With his hands still +on his knees, Iktomi turned his face upward into the great willow tree. +Opening wide his mouth he begged, "My friend, my friend, give me a bone +to gnaw!" + +"Ha! ha!" laughed the muskrat, and leaning over the limb he sat upon, +he let fall a small sharp bone which dropped right into Iktomi's throat. +Iktomi almost choked to death before he could get it out. In the tree +the muskrat sat laughing loud. "Next time, say to a visiting friend, 'Be +seated beside me, my friend. Let me share with you my food.'" + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + + +AFAR off upon a large level land, a summer sun was shining bright. Here +and there over the rolling green were tall bunches of coarse gray weeds. +Iktomi in his fringed buckskins walked alone across the prairie with +a black bare head glossy in the sunlight. He walked through the grass +without following any well-worn footpath. + +From one large bunch of coarse weeds to another he wound his way about +the great plain. He lifted his foot lightly and placed it gently forward +like a wildcat prowling noiselessly through the thick grass. He stopped +a few steps away from a very large bunch of wild sage. From shoulder to +shoulder he tilted his head. Still farther he bent from side to side, +first low over one hip and then over the other. Far forward he stooped, +stretching his long thin neck like a duck, to see what lay under a fur +coat beyond the bunch of coarse grass. + +A sleek gray-faced prairie wolf! his pointed black nose tucked in +between his four feet drawn snugly together; his handsome bushy tail +wound over his nose and feet; a coyote fast asleep in the shadow of a +bunch of grass!--this is what Iktomi spied. Carefully he raised one foot +and cautiously reached out with his toes. Gently, gently he lifted the +foot behind and placed it before the other. Thus he came nearer and +nearer to the round fur ball lying motionless under the sage grass. + +Now Iktomi stood beside it, looking at the closed eyelids that did not +quiver the least bit. Pressing his lips into straight lines and nodding +his head slowly, he bent over the wolf. He held his ear close to the +coyote's nose, but not a breath of air stirred from it. + +"Dead!" said he at last. "Dead, but not long since he ran over these +plains! See! there in his paw is caught a fresh feather. He is nice +fat meat!" Taking hold of the paw with the bird feather fast on it, he +exclaimed, "Why, he is still warm! I'll carry him to my dwelling and +have a roast for my evening meal. Ah-ha!" he laughed, as he seized the +coyote by its two fore paws and its two hind feet and swung him over +head across his shoulders. The wolf was large and the teepee was far +across the prairie. Iktomi trudged along with his burden, smacking his +hungry lips together. He blinked his eyes hard to keep out the salty +perspiration streaming down his face. + +All the while the coyote on his back lay gazing into the sky with wide +open eyes. His long white teeth fairly gleamed as he smiled and smiled. + +"To ride on one's own feet is tiresome, but to be carried like a warrior +from a brave fight is great fun!" said the coyote in his heart. He +had never been borne on any one's back before and the new experience +delighted him. He lay there lazily on Iktomi's shoulders, now and then +blinking blue winks. Did you never see a birdie blink a blue wink? This +is how it first became a saying among the plains people. When a bird +stands aloof watching your strange ways, a thin bluish white tissue +slips quickly over his eyes and as quickly off again; so quick that you +think it was only a mysterious blue wink. Sometimes when children grow +drowsy they blink blue winks, while others who are too proud to look +with friendly eyes upon people blink in this cold bird-manner. + +The coyote was affected by both sleepiness and pride. His winks were +almost as blue as the sky. In the midst of his new pleasure the swaying +motion ceased. Iktomi had reached his dwelling place. The coyote +felt drowsy no longer, for in the next instant he was slipping out +of Iktomi's hands. He was falling, falling through space, and then he +struck the ground with such a bump he did not wish to breathe for a +while. He wondered what Iktomi would do, thus he lay still where he +fell. Humming a dance-song, one from his bundle of mystery songs, Iktomi +hopped and darted about at an imaginary dance and feast. He gathered dry +willow sticks and broke them in two against his knee. He built a large +fire out of doors. The flames leaped up high in red and yellow streaks. +Now Iktomi returned to the coyote who had been looking on through his +eyelashes. + +Taking him again by his paws and hind feet, he swung him to and fro. +Then as the wolf swung toward the red flames, Iktomi let him go. Once +again the coyote fell through space. Hot air smote his nostrils. He saw +red dancing fire, and now he struck a bed of cracking embers. With a +quick turn he leaped out of the flames. From his heels were scattered a +shower of red coals upon Iktomi's bare arms and shoulders. Dumbfounded, +Iktomi thought he saw a spirit walk out of his fire. His jaws fell +apart. He thrust a palm to his face, hard over his mouth! He could +scarce keep from shrieking. + +Rolling over and over on the grass and rubbing the sides of his head +against the ground, the coyote soon put out the fire on his fur. +Iktomi's eyes were almost ready to jump out of his head as he stood +cooling a burn on his brown arm with his breath. + +Sitting on his haunches, on the opposite side of the fire from where +Iktomi stood, the coyote began to laugh at him. + +"Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. Make sure the +enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!" + +Then off he ran so swiftly that his long bushy tail hung out in a +straight line with his back. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + + +IN one of his wanderings through the wooded lands, Iktomi saw a rare +bird sitting high in a tree-top. Its long fan-like tail feathers +had caught all the beautiful colors of the rainbow. Handsome in the +glistening summer sun sat the bird of rainbow plumage. Iktomi hurried +hither with his eyes fast on the bird. + +He stood beneath the tree looking long and wistfully at the peacock's +bright feathers. At length he heaved a sigh and began: "Oh, I wish I had +such pretty feathers! How I wish I were not I! If only I were a handsome +feathered creature how happy I would be! I'd be so glad to sit upon a +very high tree and bask in the summer sun like you!" said he suddenly, +pointing his bony finger up toward the peacock, who was eyeing the +stranger below, turning his head from side to side. + +"I beg of you make me into a bird with green and purple feathers like +yours!" implored Iktomi, tired now of playing the brave in beaded +buckskins. The peacock then spoke to Iktomi: "I have a magic power. My +touch will change you in a moment into the most beautiful peacock if you +can keep one condition." + +"Yes! yes!" shouted Iktomi, jumping up and down, patting his lips with +his palm, which caused his voice to vibrate in a peculiar fashion. "Yes! +yes! I could keep ten conditions if only you would change me into a +bird with long, bright tail feathers. Oh, I am so ugly! I am so tired of +being myself! Change me! Do!" + +Hereupon the peacock spread out both his wings, and scarce moving them, +he sailed slowly down upon the ground. Right beside Iktomi he alighted. +Very low in Iktomi's ear the peacock whispered, "Are you willing to keep +one condition, though hard it be?" + +"Yes! yes! I've told you ten of them if need be!" exclaimed Iktomi, with +some impatience. + +"Then I pronounce you a handsome feathered bird. No longer are you +Iktomi the mischief-maker." Saying this the peacock touched Iktomi with +the tips of his wings. + +Iktomi vanished at the touch. There stood beneath the tree two handsome +peacocks. While one of the pair strutted about with a head turned aside +as if dazzled by his own bright-tinted tail feathers, the other bird +soared slowly upward. He sat quiet and unconscious of his gay plumage. +He seemed content to perch there on a large limb in the warm sunshine. + +After a little while the vain peacock, dizzy with his bright colors, +spread out his wings and lit on the same branch with the elder bird. + +"Oh!" he exclaimed, "how hard to fly! Brightly tinted feathers are +handsome, but I wish they were light enough to fly!" Just there the +elder bird interrupted him. "That is the one condition. Never try to fly +like other birds. Upon the day you try to fly you shall be changed into +your former self." + +"Oh, what a shame that bright feathers cannot fly into the sky!" cried +the peacock. Already he grew restless. He longed to soar through space. +He yearned to fly above the trees high upward to the sun. + +"Oh, there I see a flock of birds flying thither! Oh! oh!" said he, +flapping his wings, "I must try my wings! I am tired of bright tail +feathers. I want to try my wings." + +"No, no!" clucked the elder bird. The flock of chattering birds flew by +with whirring wings. "Oop! oop!" called some to their mates. + +Possessed by an irrepressible impulse the Iktomi peacock called out, +"He! I want to come! Wait for me!" and with that he gave a lunge into +the air. The flock of flying feathers wheeled about and lowered over the +tree whence came the peacock's cry. Only one rare bird sat on the tree, +and beneath, on the ground, stood a brave in brown buckskins. + +"I am my old self again!" groaned Iktomi in a sad voice. "Make me over, +pretty bird. Try me this once again!" he pleaded in vain. + +"Old Iktomi wants to fly! Ah! We cannot wait for him!" sang the birds as +they flew away. + +Muttering unhappy vows to himself, Iktomi had not gone far when he +chanced upon a bunch of long slender arrows. One by one they rose in the +air and shot a straight line over the prairie. Others shot up into the +blue sky and were soon lost to sight. Only one was left. He was making +ready for his flight when Iktomi rushed upon him and wailed, "I want +to be an arrow! Make me into an arrow! I want to pierce the blue Blue +overhead. I want to strike yonder summer sun in its center. Make me into +an arrow!" + +"Can you keep a condition? One condition, though hard it be?" the arrow +turned to ask. + +"Yes! Yes!" shouted Iktomi, delighted. + +Hereupon the slender arrow tapped him gently with his sharp flint beak. +There was no Iktomi, but two arrows stood ready to fly. "Now, young +arrow, this is the one condition. Your flight must always be in a +straight line. Never turn a curve nor jump about like a young fawn," +said the arrow magician. He spoke slowly and sternly. + +At once he set about to teach the new arrow how to shoot in a long +straight line. + +"This is the way to pierce the Blue overhead," said he; and off he spun +high into the sky. + +While he was gone a herd of deer came trotting by. Behind them played +the young fawns together. They frolicked about like kittens. They +bounced on all fours like balls. Then they pitched forward, kicking +their heels in the air. The Iktomi arrow watched them so happy on the +ground. Looking quickly up into the sky, he said in his heart, "The +magician is out of sight. I'll just romp and frolic with these fawns +until he returns. Fawns! Friends, do not fear me. I want to jump and +leap with you. I long to be happy as you are," said he. The young fawns +stopped with stiff legs and stared at the speaking arrow with large +brown wondering eyes. "See! I can jump as well as you!" went on Iktomi. +He gave one tiny leap like a fawn. All of a sudden the fawns snorted +with extended nostrils at what they beheld. There among them stood +Iktomi in brown buckskins, and the strange talking arrow was gone. + +"Oh! I am myself. My old self!" cried Iktomi, pinching himself and +plucking imaginary pieces out of his jacket. + +"Hin-hin-hin! I wanted to fly!" + +The real arrow now returned to the earth. He alighted very near Iktomi. +From the high sky he had seen the fawns playing on the green. He had +seen Iktomi make his one leap, and the charm was broken. Iktomi became +his former self. + +"Arrow, my friend, change me once more!" begged Iktomi. + +"No, no more," replied the arrow. Then away he shot through the air in +the direction his comrades had flown. + +By this time the fawns gathered close around Iktomi. They poked their +noses at him trying to know who he was. + +Iktomi's tears were like a spring shower. A new desire dried them +quickly away. Stepping boldly to the largest fawn, he looked closely at +the little brown spots all over the furry face. + +"Oh, fawn! What beautiful brown spots on your face! Fawn, dear little +fawn, can you tell me how those brown spots were made on your face?" + +"Yes," said the fawn. "When I was very, very small, my mother marked +them on my face with a red hot fire. She dug a large hole in the ground +and made a soft bed of grass and twigs in it. Then she placed me gently +there. She covered me over with dry sweet grass and piled dry cedars on +top. From a neighbor's fire she brought hither a red, red ember. This +she tucked carefully in at my head. This is how the brown spots were +made on my face." + +"Now, fawn, my friend, will you do the same for me? Won't you mark my +face with brown, brown spots just like yours?" asked Iktomi, always +eager to be like other people. + +"Yes. I can dig the ground and fill it with dry grass and sticks. If +you will jump into the pit, I'll cover you with sweet smelling grass and +cedar wood," answered the fawn. + +"Say," interrupted Ikto, "will you be sure to cover me with a great deal +of dry grass and twigs? You will make sure that the spots will be as +brown as those you wear." + +"Oh, yes. I'll pile up grass and willows once oftener than my mother +did." + +"Now let us dig the hole, pull the grass, and gather sticks," cried +Iktomi in glee. + +Thus with his own hands he aids in making his grave. After the hole was +dug and cushioned with grass, Iktomi, muttering something about brown +spots, leaped down into it. Lengthwise, flat on his back, he lay. While +the fawn covered him over with cedars, a far-away voice came up through +them, "Brown, brown spots to wear forever!" A red ember was tucked under +the dry grass. Off scampered the fawns after their mothers; and when a +great distance away they looked backward. They saw a blue smoke rising, +writhing upward till it vanished in the blue ether. + +"Is that Iktomi's spirit?" asked one fawn of another. + +"No! I think he would jump out before he could burn into smoke and +cinders," answered his comrade. + + + + +THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + +ON the edge of a forest there lived a large family of badgers. In the +ground their dwelling was made. Its walls and roof were covered with +rocks and straw. + +Old father badger was a great hunter. He knew well how to track the deer +and buffalo. Every day he came home carrying on his back some wild game. +This kept mother badger very busy, and the baby badgers very chubby. +While the well-fed children played about, digging little make-believe +dwellings, their mother hung thin sliced meats upon long willow racks. +As fast as the meats were dried and seasoned by sun and wind, she packed +them carefully away in a large thick bag. + +This bag was like a huge stiff envelope, but far more beautiful to see, +for it was painted all over with many bright colors. These firmly +tied bags of dried meat were laid upon the rocks in the walls of the +dwelling. In this way they were both useful and decorative. + +One day father badger did not go off for a hunt. He stayed at home, +making new arrows. His children sat about him on the ground floor. Their +small black eyes danced with delight as they watched the gay colors +painted upon the arrows. + +All of a sudden there was heard a heavy footfall near the entrance way. +The oval-shaped door-frame was pushed aside. In stepped a large black +foot with great big claws. Then the other clumsy foot came next. All the +while the baby badgers stared hard at the unexpected comer. After the +second foot, in peeped the head of a big black bear! His black nose was +dry and parched. Silently he entered the dwelling and sat down on the +ground by the doorway. His black eyes never left the painted bags on +the rocky walls. He guessed what was in them. He was a very hungry bear. +Seeing the racks of red meat hanging in the yard, he had come to visit +the badger family. + +Though he was a stranger and his strong paws and jaws frightened the +small badgers, the father said, "How, how, friend! Your lips and nose +look feverish and hungry. Will you eat with us?" + +"Yes, my friend," said the bear. "I am starved. I saw your racks of red +fresh meat, and knowing your heart is kind, I came hither. Give me meat +to eat, my friend." + +Hereupon the mother badger took long strides across the room, and as she +had to pass in front of the strange visitor, she said: "Ah han! Allow me +to pass!" which was an apology. + +"How, how!" replied the bear, drawing himself closer to the wall and +crossing his shins together. + +Mother badger chose the most tender red meat, and soon over a bed of +coals she broiled the venison. + +That day the bear had all he could eat. At nightfall he rose, and +smacking his lips together,--that is the noisy way of saying "the food +was very good!"--he left the badger dwelling. The baby badgers, peeping +through the door-flap after the shaggy bear, saw him disappear into the +woods near by. + +Day after day the crackling of twigs in the forest told of heavy +footsteps. Out would come the same black bear. He never lifted the +door-flap, but thrusting it aside entered slowly in. Always in the same +place by the entrance way he sat down with crossed shins. + +His daily visits were so regular that mother badger placed a fur rug in +his place. She did not wish a guest in her dwelling to sit upon the bare +hard ground. + +At last one time when the bear returned, his nose was bright and black. +His coat was glossy. He had grown fat upon the badger's hospitality. + +As he entered the dwelling a pair of wicked gleams shot out of his +shaggy head. Surprised by the strange behavior of the guest who remained +standing upon the rug, leaning his round back against the wall, father +badger queried: "How, my friend! What?" + +The bear took one stride forward and shook his paw in the badger's face. +He said: "I am strong, very strong!" + +"Yes, yes, so you are," replied the badger. From the farther end of the +room mother badger muttered over her bead work: "Yes, you grew strong +from our well-filled bowls." + +The bear smiled, showing a row of large sharp teeth. + +"I have no dwelling. I have no bags of dried meat. I have no arrows. All +these I have found here on this spot," said he, stamping his heavy foot. +"I want them! See! I am strong!" repeated he, lifting both his terrible +paws. + +Quietly the father badger spoke: "I fed you. I called you friend, though +you came here a stranger and a beggar. For the sake of my little ones +leave us in peace." + +Mother badger, in her excited way, had pierced hard through the buckskin +and stuck her fingers repeatedly with her sharp awl until she had laid +aside her work. Now, while her husband was talking to the bear, she +motioned with her hands to the children. On tiptoe they hastened to her +side. + +For reply came a low growl. It grew louder and more fierce. "Wa-ough!" +he roared, and by force hurled the badgers out. First the father badger; +then the mother. The little badgers he tossed by pairs. He threw them +hard upon the ground. Standing in the entrance way and showing his ugly +teeth, he snarled, "Be gone!" + +The father and mother badger, having gained their feet, picked up +their kicking little babes, and, wailing aloud, drew the air into their +flattened lungs till they could stand alone upon their feet. No sooner +had the baby badgers caught their breath than they howled and shrieked +with pain and fright. Ah! what a dismal cry was theirs as the whole +badger family went forth wailing from out their own dwelling! A little +distance away from their stolen house the father badger built a small +round hut. He made it of bent willows and covered it with dry grass and +twigs. + +This was shelter for the night; but alas! it was empty of food and +arrows. All day father badger prowled through the forest, but without +his arrows he could not get food for his children. Upon his return, the +cry of the little ones for meat, the sad quiet of the mother with bowed +head, hurt him like a poisoned arrow wound. + +"I'll beg meat for you!" said he in an unsteady voice. Covering his +head and entire body in a long loose robe he halted beside the big black +bear. The bear was slicing red meat to hang upon the rack. He did not +pause for a look at the comer. As the badger stood there unrecognized, +he saw that the bear had brought with him his whole family. Little cubs +played under the high-hanging new meats. They laughed and pointed with +their wee noses upward at the thin sliced meats upon the poles. + +"Have you no heart, Black Bear? My children are starving. Give me a +small piece of meat for them," begged the badger. + +"Wa-ough!" growled the angry bear, and pounced upon the badger. "Be +gone!" said he, and with his big hind foot he sent father badger +sprawling on the ground. + +All the little ruffian bears hooted and shouted "ha-ha!" to see the +beggar fall upon his face. There was one, however, who did not even +smile. He was the youngest cub. His fur coat was not as black and glossy +as those his elders wore. The hair was dry and dingy. It looked much +more like kinky wool. He was the ugly cub. Poor little baby bear! he had +always been laughed at by his older brothers. He could not help being +himself. He could not change the differences between himself and his +brothers. Thus again, though the rest laughed aloud at the badger's +fall, he did not see the joke. His face was long and earnest. In his +heart he was sad to see the badgers crying and starving. In his breast +spread a burning desire to share his food with them. + +"I shall not ask my father for meat to give away. He would say 'No!' +Then my brothers would laugh at me," said the ugly baby bear to himself. + +In an instant, as if his good intention had passed from him, he was +singing happily and skipping around his father at work. Singing in his +small high voice and dragging his feet in long strides after him, as if +a prankish spirit oozed out from his heels, he strayed off through the +tall grass. He was ambling toward the small round hut. When directly in +front of the entrance way, he made a quick side kick with his left hind +leg. Lo! there fell into the badger's hut a piece of fresh meat. It +was tough meat, full of sinews, yet it was the only piece he could take +without his father's notice. + +Thus having given meat to the hungry badgers, the ugly baby bear ran +quickly away to his father again. + +On the following day the father badger came back once more. He stood +watching the big bear cutting thin slices of meat. + +"Give--" he began, when the bear turning upon him with a growl, thrust +him cruelly aside. The badger fell on his hands. He fell where the grass +was wet with the blood of the newly carved buffalo. His keen starving +eyes caught sight of a little red clot lying bright upon the green. +Looking fearfully toward the bear and seeing his head was turned away, +he snatched up the small thick blood. Underneath his girdled blanket he +hid it in his hand. + +On his return to his family, he said within himself: "I'll pray the +Great Spirit to bless it." Thus he built a small round lodge. Sprinkling +water upon the heated heap of sacred stones within, he made ready to +purge his body. "The buffalo blood, too, must be purified before I ask +a blessing upon it," thought the badger. He carried it into the sacred +vapor lodge. After placing it near the sacred stones, he sat down beside +it. After a long silence, he muttered: "Great Spirit, bless this little +buffalo blood." Then he arose, and with a quiet dignity stepped out of +the lodge. Close behind him some one followed. The badger turned to +look over his shoulder and to his great joy he beheld a Dakota brave +in handsome buckskins. In his hand he carried a magic arrow. Across his +back dangled a long fringed quiver. In answer to the badger's prayer, +the avenger had sprung from out the red globules. + +"My son!" exclaimed the badger with extended right hand. + +"How, father," replied the brave; "I am your avenger!" + +Immediately the badger told the sad story of his hungry little ones and +the stingy bear. + +Listening closely the young man stood looking steadily upon the ground. + +At length the father badger moved away. + +"Where?" queried the avenger. + +"My son, we have no food. I am going again to beg for meat," answered +the badger. + +"Then I go with you," replied the young brave. This made the old badger +happy. He was proud of his son. He was delighted to be called "father" +by the first human creature. + +The bear saw the badger coming in the distance. He narrowed his eyes +at the tall stranger walking beside him. He spied the arrow. At once he +guessed it was the avenger of whom he had heard long, long ago. As they +approached, the bear stood erect with a hand on his thigh. He smiled +upon them. + +"How, badger, my friend! Here is my knife. Cut your favorite pieces from +the deer," said he, holding out a long thin blade. + +"How!" said the badger eagerly. He wondered what had inspired the big +bear to such a generous deed. The young avenger waited till the badger +took the long knife in his hand. + +Gazing full into the black bear's face, he said: "I come to do justice. +You have returned only a knife to my poor father. Now return to him his +dwelling." His voice was deep and powerful. In his black eyes burned a +steady fire. + +The long strong teeth of the bear rattled against each other, and his +shaggy body shook with fear. "Ahow!" cried he, as if he had been shot. +Running into the dwelling he gasped, breathless and trembling, "Come +out, all of you! This is the badger's dwelling. We must flee to the +forest for fear of the avenger who carries the magic arrow." + +Out they hurried, all the bears, and disappeared into the woods. + +Singing and laughing, the badgers returned to their own dwelling. + +Then the avenger left them. + +"I go," said he in parting, "over the earth." + + + + +THE TREE-BOUND + + +IT was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low over the edge +of the green level land. A large yellow sun hung directly overhead. + +The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and sky with +sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow-breasted birdie--"Koda Ni +Dakota!" He insisted upon it. "Koda Ni Dakota!" which was "Friend, +you're a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!" Perchance the birdie meant +the avenger with the magic arrow, for there across the plain he strode. +He was handsome in his paint and feathers, proud with his great buckskin +quiver on his back and a long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp +of cone-shaped teepees he was going. There over the Indian village +hovered a large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every +morning rose this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and +spreading out his gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp +ground. Then it was that the people, terror-stricken, ran screaming +into their lodges. Covering their heads with their blankets, they sat +trembling with fear. No one dared to venture out till the red eagle had +disappeared beyond the west, where meet the blue and green. + +In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his warriors a +powerful marksman who could send a death arrow to the man-hungry bird. +At last to urge his men to their utmost skill he bade his crier proclaim +a new reward. + +Of the chieftain's two beautiful daughters he would have his choice who +brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its breast. + +Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young and old, +both heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the contest. At gray +dawn there stood indistinct under the shadow of the bluff many human +figures; silent as ghosts and wrapped in robes girdled tight about their +waists, they waited with chosen bow and arrow. + +Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They crouched low +upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed upon the top of the +high bluff. Breathless they watched for the soaring of the red eagle. + +From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small holes in +the front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and hard-set teeth, +the women peered out upon the Dakota men prowling about with bows and +arrows. + +At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern horizon at +the armed Dakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the edge of the cliff. +Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his neck and flapped his +strong wings together. Then he dived into the air. Slowly he winged his +way over the round camp ground; over the men with their strong bows and +arrows! In an instant the long bows were bent. Strong straight arrows +with red feathered tips sped upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved +those indifferent wings, untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to +the west beyond the reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red +eagle flew away. + +A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly stillness of +the dawn. The women talked excitedly about the invulnerable red of the +eagle's feathers, while the would-be heroes sulked within their wigwams. +"He-he-he!" groaned the chieftain. + +On the evening of the same day sat a group of hunters around a bright +burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man whom they spied +while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. They saw the stranger +taking aim. Following the point of his arrow with their eyes, they +beheld a herd of buffalo. The arrow sprang from the bow! It darted into +the skull of the foremost buffalo. But unlike other arrows it pierced +through the head of the creature and spinning in the air lit into the +next buffalo head. One by one the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they +were grazing. With straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides. The +young man stood calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they +dropped dead to the ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither and +picking up his magic arrow wiped it carefully on the soft grass. He +slipped it into his long fringed quiver. + +"He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or beasts!" +cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away. + +They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow. When the +hunter's tale of the stranger's arrow reached the ears of the chieftain, +his face brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet horsemen, to learn +of him his birth, his name, and his deeds. + +"If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the earth out +of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him kill the red +eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself one of my beautiful +daughters," he had said to his messengers, for the old story of the +badger's man-son was known all over the level lands. + +After four days and nights the braves returned. "He is coming," they +said. "We have seen him. He is straight and tall; handsome in face, with +large black eyes. He paints his round cheeks with bright red, and wears +the penciled lines of red over his temples like our men of honored rank. +He carries on his back a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic +arrow. His bow is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red +eagle." All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words +of the returned messengers. + +Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the brown +burnt spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was filled with a +new desire. "If only I had the magic arrow, I would kill the red eagle +and win the chieftain's daughter for a wife," said he in his heart. + +Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in front of his +teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his drawn-up knees. His +keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was watching for the avenger. + +"'He is coming!' said the people," muttered old Iktomi. All of a sudden +he raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into the west. The +summer sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless sky. There across +the green prairie was a man walking bareheaded toward the east. + +"Ha! ha! 'tis he! the man with the magic arrow!" laughed Iktomi. And +when the bird with the yellow breast sang loud again--"Koda Ni Dakota! +Friend, you're a Dakota!" Iktomi put his hand over his mouth as he threw +his head far backward, laughing at both the bird and man. + +"He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! He is a +Dakota, but soon he'll grow into the bark on this tree! Ha! ha! ha!" he +laughed again. + +The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and nearer toward +the lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! swish! of the +stranger's feet through the tall grass. He was passing now beyond the +tree, when Iktomi, springing to his feet, called out: "How, how, my +friend! I see you are dressed in handsome deerskins and have red paint +on your cheeks. You are going to some feast or dance, may I ask?" Seeing +the young man only smiled Iktomi went on: "I have not had a mouthful of +food this day. Have pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for +me!" With these words Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat +a bird on the highest branch. The young avenger, always ready to help +those in distress, sent an arrow upward and the bird fell. In the next +branch it was caught between the forked prongs. + +"My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb so high. I +would get dizzy and fall," pleaded Iktomi. The avenger began to scale +the tree, when Iktomi cried to him: "My friend, your beaded buckskins +may be torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon the grass till you are +down again." + +"You are right," replied the young man, quickly slipping off his +long fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and tinkling +ornaments, he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the tree +unhindered. Soon from the top he took the bird. "My friend, toss to +me your arrow that I may have the honor of wiping it clean on soft +deerskin!" exclaimed Iktomi. + +"How!" said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the ground. + +At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the grass and then +on a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words all the while. +The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb, hearing the low +muttering, said: "Iktomi, I cannot hear what you say!" + +"Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart." + +Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition of charm +words. "Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree," he whispered. +Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly dropping the arrow +and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: "Grow fast to the bark of the +tree!" Before the brave could leap from the tree he became tight-grown +to the bark. + +"Ah! ha!" laughed the bad Iktomi. "I have the magic arrow! I have the +beaded buckskins of the great avenger!" Hooting and dancing beneath the +tree, he said: "I shall kill the red eagle; I shall wed the chieftain's +beautiful daughter!" + +"Oh, Iktomi, set me free!" begged the tree-bound Dakota brave. But +Iktomi's ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did not hear with them. + +Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic arrow in +his right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the swaying strides +of the avenger, he walked away with a face turned slightly skyward. + +"Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! Cut me +loose!" moaned the prisoner. + +A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly bound +willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard the wailing +man's voice. She paused to listen to the sad words. Looking around she +saw nowhere a human creature. "It may be a spirit," thought she. + +"Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! He has made +me bark of his tree!" cried the voice again. + +The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. With her +stone axe she hurried to the tree. There before her astonished eyes +clung a young brave close to the tree. + +Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger +tree-bound, she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she drew +it to the ground. With it came the young man also. Free once more, he +started away. Looking backward, a few paces from the young woman, he +waved his hand, upward and downward, before her face. This was a sign of +gratitude used when words failed to interpret strong emotion. + +When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a pony and +rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground in the east, to +the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she carried her story. + + + + +SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + + +A MAN in buckskins sat upon the top of a little hillock. The setting sun +shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand. His face was turned toward +the round camp ground at the foot of the hill. He had walked a long +journey hither. He was waiting for the chieftain's men to spy him. + +Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward the +hillock, where sat the man with the long bow. + +"He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle," cried the runners to +each other as they bent forward swinging their elbows together. + +They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed them. Proud +and silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams beneath him. Spreading +a handsomely decorated buffalo robe before the man, two of the warriors +lifted him by each shoulder and placed him gently on it. Then the four +men took, each, a corner of the blanket and carried the stranger, with +long proud steps, toward the chieftain's teepee. + +Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the entrance +way. "How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!" said he, extending +to him a smooth soft hand. + +"How, great chieftain!" replied the man, holding long the chieftain's +hand. Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the young man to the +right side of the doorway, while he sat down opposite him with a center +fire burning between them. Wordless, like a bashful Indian maid, the +avenger ate in silence the food set before him on the ground in front +of his crossed shins. When he had finished his meal he handed the empty +bowl to the chieftain's wife, saying, "Mother-in-law, here is your +dish!" + +"Han, my son!" answered the woman, taking the bowl. + +With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in the least +too presuming in addressing the woman as his mother-in-law. + +Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket and soon +within the chieftain's teepee he lay fast asleep. + +"The young man is not handsome after all!" whispered the woman in her +husband's ear. + +"Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem handsome +enough!" answered the chieftain. + +That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky reached +the low northern horizon, before the center fires within the teepees +had flickered out. The ringing laughter which had floated up through +the smoke lapels was now hushed, and only the distant howling of wolves +broke the quiet of the village. But the lull between midnight and dawn +was short indeed. Very early the oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust +aside and many brown faces peered out of the wigwams toward the top of +the highest bluff. + +Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger stood ready +within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle. He appeared, +that terrible bird! He hovered over the round village as if he could +pounce down upon it and devour the whole tribe. + +When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers thrust a +hand quickly over their half-uttered "hinnu!" The second and the third +arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red eagle soaring with +lazy indifference over the little man with the long bow. All his arrows +he spent in vain. "Ah! my blanket brushed my elbow and shifted the +course of my arrow!" said the stranger as the people gathered around +him. + +During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at the +chieftain's teepee. It was no other than the young woman who cut loose +the tree-bound captive! + +While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast face. "I +passed him on my way. He is near!" she ended. + +Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the chieftain +snapped fire like red cinders in the night time. His lips were closed. +At length to the woman he said: "How, you have done me a good deed." +Then with quick decision he gave command to a fleet horseman to meet the +avenger. "Clothe him in these my best buckskins," said he, pointing to a +bundle within the wigwam. + +In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi and dragged him by his long +hair to the hilltop. There upon a mock-pillared grave they bound him +hand and feet. Grown-ups and children sneered and hooted at Iktomi's +disgrace. For a half-day he lay there, the laughing-stock of the people. +Upon the arrival of the real avenger, Iktomi was released and chased +away beyond the outer limits of the camp ground. + +On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of half-open +door-flaps. + +There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in beaded +buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped arrow. Again the +big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. He plumed his feathers +and flapped his huge wings. + +The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow on the +bow, drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle. + +The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, two, three +times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height and fell heavily +to the earth. An arrow stuck in his breast! He was dead! + +So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that no one had +seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow. + +In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the avenger, +plucking a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, a loud shout +of the people went up to the sky. Then hither and thither ran singing +men and women making a great feast for the avenger. + +Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of telling to +her children the story of the big red eagle. + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + + +THE huntsman Patkasa (turtle) stood bent over a newly slain deer. + +The red-tipped arrow he drew from the wounded deer was unlike the arrows +in his own quiver. Another's stray shot had killed the deer. Patkasa had +hunted all the morning without so much as spying an ordinary blackbird. + +At last returning homeward, tired and heavy-hearted that he had no meat +for the hungry mouths in his wigwam, he walked slowly with downcast +eyes. Kind ghosts pitied the unhappy hunter and led him to the newly +slain deer, that his children should not cry for food. + +When Patkasa stumbled upon the deer in his path, he exclaimed: "Good +spirits have pushed me hither!" + +Thus he leaned long over the gift of the friendly ghosts. + +"How, my friend!" said a voice behind his ear, and a hand fell on his +shoulder. It was not a spirit this time. It was old Iktomi. + +"How, Iktomi!" answered Patkasa, still stooping over the deer. + +"My friend, you are a skilled hunter," began Iktomi, smiling a thin +smile which spread from one ear to the other. + +Suddenly raising up his head Patkasa's black eyes twinkled as he asked: +"Oh, you really say so?" + +"Yes, my friend, you are a skillful fellow. Now let us have a little +contest. Let us see who can jump over the deer without touching a hair +on his hide," suggested Iktomi. + +"Oh, I fear I cannot do it!" cried Patkasa, rubbing his funny, thick +palms together. + +"Have no coward's doubt, Patkasa. I say you are a skillful fellow who +finds nothing hard to do." With these words Iktomi led Patkasa a short +distance away. In little puffs Patkasa laughed uneasily. + +"Now, you may jump first," said Iktomi. + +Patkasa, with doubled fists, swung his fat arms to and fro, all the +while biting hard his under lip. + +Just before the run and leap Iktomi put in: "Let the winner have the +deer to eat!" + +It was too late now to say no. Patkasa was more afraid of being called +a coward than of losing the deer. "Ho-wo," he replied, still working his +short arms. At length he started off on the run. So quick and small were +his steps that he seemed to be kicking the ground only. Then the leap! +But Patkasa tripped upon a stick and fell hard against the side of the +deer. + +"He-he-he!" exclaimed Iktomi, pretending disappointment that his friend +had fallen. + +Lifting him to his feet, he said: "Now it is my turn to try the high +jump!" Hardly was the last word spoken than Iktomi gave a leap high +above the deer. + +"The game is mine!" laughed he, patting the sullen Patkasa on the +back. "My friend, watch the deer while I go to bring my children," said +Iktomi, darting lightly through the tall grass. + +Patkasa was always ready to believe the words of scheming people and to +do the little favors any one asked of him. However, on this occasion, +he did not answer "Yes, my friend." He realized that Iktomi's flattering +tongue had made him foolish. + +He turned up his nose at Iktomi, now almost out of sight, as much as to +say: "Oh, no, Ikto; I do not hear your words!" + +Soon there came a murmur of voices. The sound of laughter grew louder +and louder. All of a sudden it became hushed. Old Iktomi led his young +Iktomi brood to the place where he had left the turtle, but it was +vacant. Nowhere was there any sign of Patkasa or the deer. Then the +babes did howl! + +"Be still!" said father Iktomi to his children. "I know where Patkasa +lives. Follow me. I shall take you to the turtle's dwelling." He ran +along a narrow footpath toward the creek near by. Close upon his heels +came his children with tear-streaked faces. + +"There!" said Iktomi in a loud whisper as he gathered his little ones on +the bank. "There is Patkasa broiling venison! There is his teepee, and +the savory fire is in his front yard!" + +The young Iktomis stretched their necks and rolled their round black +eyes like newly hatched birds. They peered into the water. + +"Now, I will cool Patkasa's fire. I shall bring you the broiled venison. +Watch closely. When you see the black coals rise to the surface of the +water, clap your hands and shout aloud, for soon after that sign I shall +return to you with some tender meat." + +Thus saying Iktomi plunged into the creek. Splash! splash! the water +leaped upward into spray. Scarcely had it become leveled and smooth +than there bubbled up many black spots. The creek was seething with the +dancing of round black things. + +"The cooled fire! The coals!" laughed the brood of Iktomis. Clapping +together their little hands, they chased one another along the edge of +the creek. They shouted and hooted with great glee. + +"Ahas!" said a gruff voice across the water. It was Patkasa. In a large +willow tree leaning far over the water he sat upon a large limb. On the +very same branch was a bright burning fire over which Patkasa broiled +the venison. By this time the water was calm again. No more danced those +black spots on its surface, for they were the toes of old Iktomi. He was +drowned. + +The Iktomi children hurried away from the creek, crying and calling for +their water-dead father. + + + + +DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + + +IT was night upon the prairie. Overhead the stars were twinkling bright +their red and yellow lights. The moon was young. A silvery thread among +the stars, it soon drifted low beneath the horizon. + +Upon the ground the land was pitchy black. There are night people on the +plain who love the dark. Amid the black level land they meet to frolic +under the stars. Then when their sharp ears hear any strange footfalls +nigh they scamper away into the deep shadows of night. There they are +safely hid from all dangers, they think. + +Thus it was that one very black night, afar off from the edge of the +level land, out of the wooded river bottom glided forth two balls of +fire. They came farther and farther into the level land. They grew +larger and brighter. The dark hid the body of the creature with those +fiery eyes. They came on and on, just over the tops of the prairie +grass. It might have been a wildcat prowling low on soft, stealthy feet. +Slowly but surely the terrible eyes drew nearer and nearer to the heart +of the level land. + +There in a huge old buffalo skull was a gay feast and dance! Tiny little +field mice were singing and dancing in a circle to the boom-boom of a +wee, wee drum. They were laughing and talking among themselves while +their chosen singers sang loud a merry tune. + +They built a small open fire within the center of their queer dance +house. The light streamed out of the buffalo skull through all the +curious sockets and holes. + +A light on the plain in the middle of the night was an unusual thing. +But so merry were the mice they did not hear the "king, king" of sleepy +birds, disturbed by the unaccustomed fire. + +A pack of wolves, fearing to come nigh this night fire, stood together +a little distance away, and, turning their pointed noses to the stars, +howled and yelped most dismally. Even the cry of the wolves was unheeded +by the mice within the lighted buffalo skull. + +They were feasting and dancing; they were singing and laughing--those +funny little furry fellows. + +All the while across the dark from out the low river bottom came that +pair of fiery eyes. + +Now closer and more swift, now fiercer and glaring, the eyes moved +toward the buffalo skull. All unconscious of those fearful eyes, the +happy mice nibbled at dried roots and venison. The singers had started +another song. The drummers beat the time, turning their heads from +side to side in rhythm. In a ring around the fire hopped the mice, each +bouncing hard on his two hind feet. Some carried their tails over their +arms, while others trailed them proudly along. + +Ah, very near are those round yellow eyes! Very low to the ground they +seem to creep--creep toward the buffalo skull. All of a sudden they +slide into the eye-sockets of the old skull. + +"Spirit of the buffalo!" squeaked a frightened mouse as he jumped out +from a hole in the back part of the skull. + +"A cat! a cat!" cried other mice as they scrambled out of holes both +large and snug. Noiseless they ran away into the dark. + + + + +THE TOAD AND THE BOY + + +THE water-fowls were flying over the marshy lakes. It was now the +hunting season. Indian men, with bows and arrows, were wading waist +deep amid the wild rice. Near by, within their wigwams, the wives were +roasting wild duck and making down pillows. + +In the largest teepee sat a young mother wrapping red porcupine +quills about the long fringes of a buckskin cushion. Beside her lay a +black-eyed baby boy cooing and laughing. Reaching and kicking upward +with his tiny hands and feet, he played with the dangling strings of his +heavy-beaded bonnet hanging empty on a tent pole above him. + +At length the mother laid aside her red quills and white sinew-threads. +The babe fell fast asleep. Leaning on one hand and softly whispering +a little lullaby, she threw a light cover over her baby. It was almost +time for the return of her husband. + +Remembering there were no willow sticks for the fire, she quickly +girdled her blanket tight about her waist, and with a short-handled ax +slipped through her belt, she hurried away toward the wooded ravine. She +was strong and swung an ax as skillfully as any man. Her loose buckskin +dress was made for such freedom. Soon carrying easily a bundle of long +willows on her back, with a loop of rope over both her shoulders, she +came striding homeward. + +Near the entrance way she stooped low, at once shifting the bundle to +the right and with both hands lifting the noose from over her head. +Having thus dropped the wood to the ground, she disappeared into her +teepee. In a moment she came running out again, crying, "My son! My +little son is gone!" Her keen eyes swept east and west and all around +her. There was nowhere any sign of the child. + +Running with clinched fists to the nearest teepees, she called: "Has any +one seen my baby? He is gone! My little son is gone!" + +"Hinnu! Hinnu!" exclaimed the women, rising to their feet and rushing +out of their wigwams. + +"We have not seen your child! What has happened?" queried the women. + +With great tears in her eyes the mother told her story. + +"We will search with you," they said to her as she started off. + +They met the returning husbands, who turned about and joined in the +hunt for the missing child. Along the shore of the lakes, among the +high-grown reeds, they looked in vain. He was nowhere to be found. After +many days and nights the search was given up. It was sad, indeed, to +hear the mother wailing aloud for her little son. + +It was growing late in the autumn. The birds were flying high toward the +south. The teepees around the lakes were gone, save one lonely dwelling. + +Till the winter snow covered the ground and ice covered the lakes, the +wailing woman's voice was heard from that solitary wigwam. From some far +distance was also the sound of the father's voice singing a sad song. + +Thus ten summers and as many winters have come and gone since the +strange disappearance of the little child. Every autumn with the hunters +came the unhappy parents of the lost baby to search again for him. + +Toward the latter part of the tenth season when, one by one, the teepees +were folded and the families went away from the lake region, the mother +walked again along the lake shore weeping. One evening, across the lake +from where the crying woman stood, a pair of bright black eyes peered at +her through the tall reeds and wild rice. A little wild boy stopped his +play among the tall grasses. His long, loose hair hanging down his brown +back and shoulders was carelessly tossed from his round face. He wore a +loin cloth of woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the marshy ground, he +listened to the wailing voice. As the voice grew hoarse and only sobs +shook the slender figure of the woman, the eyes of the wild boy grew dim +and wet. + +At length, when the moaning ceased, he sprang to his feet and ran like a +nymph with swift outstretched toes. He rushed into a small hut of reeds +and grasses. + +"Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice it was I heard which pleased my +ears, but made my eyes grow wet!" said he, breathless. + +"Han, my son," grunted a big, ugly toad. "It was the voice of a weeping +woman you heard. My son, do not say you like it. Do not tell me it +brought tears to your eyes. You have never heard me weep. I can please +your ear and break your heart. Listen!" replied the great old toad. + +Stepping outside, she stood by the entrance way. She was old and badly +puffed out. She had reared a large family of little toads, but none +of them had aroused her love, nor ever grieved her. She had heard +the wailing human voice and marveled at the throat which produced the +strange sound. Now, in her great desire to keep the stolen boy awhile +longer, she ventured to cry as the Dakota woman does. In a gruff, coarse +voice she broke forth: + +"Hin-hin, doe-skin! Hin-hin, Ermine, Ermine! Hin-hin, red blanket, with +white border!" + +Not knowing that the syllables of a Dakota's cry are the names of loved +ones gone, the ugly toad mother sought to please the boy's ear with the +names of valuable articles. Having shrieked in a torturing voice and +mouthed extravagant names, the old toad rolled her tearless eyes with +great satisfaction. Hopping back into her dwelling, she asked: + +"My son, did my voice bring tears to your eyes? Did my words bring +gladness to your ears? Do you not like my wailing better?" + +"No, no!" pouted the boy with some impatience. "I want to hear the +woman's voice! Tell me, mother, why the human voice stirs all my +feelings!" + +The toad mother said within her breast, "The human child has heard and +seen his real mother. I cannot keep him longer, I fear. Oh, no, I cannot +give away the pretty creature I have taught to call me 'mother' all +these many winters." + +"Mother," went on the child voice, "tell me one thing. Tell me why my +little brothers and sisters are all unlike me." + +The big, ugly toad, looking at her pudgy children, said: "The eldest is +always best." + +This reply quieted the boy for a while. Very closely watched the old +toad mother her stolen human son. When by chance he started off alone, +she shoved out one of her own children after him, saying: "Do not come +back without your big brother." + +Thus the wild boy with the long, loose hair sits every day on a marshy +island hid among the tall reeds. But he is not alone. Always at his feet +hops a little toad brother. One day an Indian hunter, wading in the deep +waters, spied the boy. He had heard of the baby stolen long ago. + +"This is he!" murmured the hunter to himself as he ran to his wigwam. "I +saw among the tall reeds a black-haired boy at play!" shouted he to the +people. + +At once the unhappy father and mother cried out, "'Tis he, our boy!" +Quickly he led them to the lake. Peeping through the wild rice, he +pointed with unsteady finger toward the boy playing all unawares. + +"'Tis he! 'tis he!" cried the mother, for she knew him. + +In silence the hunter stood aside, while the happy father and mother +caressed their baby boy grown tall. + + + + +IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + + +FROM the tall grass came the voice of a crying babe. The huntsmen who +were passing nigh heard and halted. + +The tallest one among them hastened toward the high grass with long, +cautious strides. He waded through the growth of green with just a head +above it all. Suddenly exclaiming "Hunhe!" he dropped out of sight. In +another instant he held up in both his hands a tiny little baby, wrapped +in soft brown buckskins. + +"Oh ho, a wood-child!" cried the men, for they were hunting along the +wooded river bottom where this babe was found. + +While the hunters were questioning whether or no they should carry it +home, the wee Indian baby kept up his little howl. + +"His voice is strong!" said one. + +"At times it sounds like an old man's voice!" whispered a superstitious +fellow, who feared some bad spirit hid in the small child to cheat them +by and by. + +"Let us take it to our wise chieftain," at length they said; and the +moment they started toward the camp ground the strange wood-child ceased +to cry. + +Beside the chieftain's teepee waited the hunters while the tall man +entered with the child. + +"How! how!" nodded the kind-faced chieftain, listening to the queer +story. Then rising, he took the infant in his strong arms; gently he +laid the black-eyed babe in his daughter's lap. "This is to be your +little son!" said he, smiling. + +"Yes, father," she replied. Pleased with the child, she smoothed the +long black hair fringing his round brown face. + +"Tell the people that I give a feast and dance this day for the naming +of my daughter's little son," bade the chieftain. + +In the meanwhile among the men waiting by the entrance way, one said in +a low voice: "I have heard that bad spirits come as little children into +a camp which they mean to destroy." + +"No! no! Let us not be overcautious. It would be cowardly to leave +a baby in the wild wood where prowl the hungry wolves!" answered an +elderly man. + +The tall man now came out of the chieftain's teepee. With a word he sent +them to their dwellings half running with joy. + +"A feast! a dance for the naming of the chieftain's grandchild!" cried +he in a loud voice to the village people. + +"What? what?" asked they in great surprise, holding a hand to the ear to +catch the words of the crier. + +There was a momentary silence among the people while they listened to +the ringing voice of the man walking in the center ground. Then broke +forth a rippling, laughing babble among the cone-shaped teepees. All +were glad to hear of the chieftain's grandson. They were happy to attend +the feast and dance for its naming. With excited fingers they twisted +their hair into glossy braids and painted their cheeks with bright red +paint. To and fro hurried the women, handsome in their gala-day dress. +Men in loose deerskins, with long tinkling metal fringes, strode in +small numbers toward the center of the round camp ground. + +Here underneath a temporary shade-house of green leaves they were to +dance and feast. The children in deerskins and paints, just like their +elders, were jolly little men and women. Beside their eager parents they +skipped along toward the green dance house. + +Here seated in a large circle, the people were assembled, the proud +chieftain rose with the little baby in his arms. The noisy hum of voices +was hushed. Not a tinkling of a metal fringe broke the silence. The +crier came forward to greet the chieftain, then bent attentively over +the small babe, listening to the words of the chieftain. When he paused +the crier spoke aloud to the people: + +"This woodland child is adopted by the chieftain's eldest daughter. His +name is Chaske. He wears the title of the eldest son. In honor of Chaske +the chieftain gives this feast and dance! These are the words of him you +see holding a baby in his arms." + +"Yes! Yes! Hinnu! How!" came from the circle. At once the drummers beat +softly and slowly their drum while the chosen singers hummed together to +find the common pitch. The beat of the drum grew louder and faster. The +singers burst forth in a lively tune. Then the drumbeats subsided and +faintly marked the rhythm of the singing. Here and there bounced up men +and women, both young and old. They danced and sang with merry light +hearts. Then came the hour of feasting. + +Late into the night the air of the camp ground was alive with the +laughing voices of women and the singing in unison of young men. Within +her father's teepee sat the chieftain's daughter. Proud of her little +one, she watched over him asleep in her lap. + +Gradually a deep quiet stole over the camp ground, as one by one the +people fell into pleasant dreams. Now all the village was still. Alone +sat the beautiful young mother watching the babe in her lap, asleep with +a gaping little mouth. Amid the quiet of the night, her ear heard the +far-off hum of many voices. The faint sound of murmuring people was in +the air. Upward she glanced at the smoke hole of the wigwam and saw +a bright star peeping down upon her. "Spirits in the air above?" she +wondered. Yet there was no sign to tell her of their nearness. The fine +small sound of voices grew larger and nearer. + +"Father! rise! I hear the coming of some tribe. Hostile or friendly--I +cannot tell. Rise and see!" whispered the young woman. + +"Yes, my daughter!" answered the chieftain, springing to his feet. + +Though asleep, his ear was ever alert. Thus rushing out into the open, +he listened for strange sounds. With an eagle eye he scanned the camp +ground for some sign. + +Returning he said: "My daughter, I hear nothing and see no sign of evil +nigh." + +"Oh! the sound of many voices comes up from the earth about me!" +exclaimed the young mother. + +Bending low over her babe she gave ear to the ground. Horrified was she +to find the mysterious sound came out of the open mouth of her sleeping +child! + +"Why so unlike other babes!" she cried within her heart as she slipped +him gently from her lap to the ground. "Mother, listen and tell me if +this child is an evil spirit come to destroy our camp!" she whispered +loud. + +Placing an ear close to the open baby mouth, the chieftain and his wife, +each in turn heard the voices of a great camp. The singing of men and +women, the beating of the drum, the rattling of deer-hoofs strung like +bells on a string, these were the sounds they heard. + +"We must go away," said the chieftain, leading them into the night. +Out in the open he whispered to the frightened young woman: "Iya, the +camp-eater, has come in the guise of a babe. Had you gone to sleep, he +would have jumped out into his own shape and would have devoured our +camp. He is a giant with spindling legs. He cannot fight, for he cannot +run. He is powerful only in the night with his tricks. We are safe as +soon as day breaks." Then moving closer to the woman, he whispered: "If +he wakes now, he will swallow the whole tribe with one hideous gulp! +Come, we must flee with our people." + +Thus creeping from teepee to teepee a secret alarm signal was given. At +midnight the teepees were gone and there was left no sign of the village +save heaps of dead ashes. So quietly had the people folded their wigwams +and bundled their tent poles that they slipped away unheard by the +sleeping Iya babe. + +When the morning sun arose, the babe awoke. Seeing himself deserted, he +threw off his baby form in a hot rage. + +Wearing his own ugly shape, his huge body toppled to and fro, from side +to side, on a pair of thin legs far too small for their burden. Though +with every move he came dangerously nigh to falling, he followed in the +trail of the fleeing people. + +"I shall eat you in the sight of a noon-day sun!" cried Iya in his vain +rage, when he spied them encamped beyond a river. + +By some unknown cunning he swam the river and sought his way toward the +teepees. + +"Hin! hin!" he grunted and growled. With perspiration beading his brow +he strove to wiggle his slender legs beneath his giant form. + +"Ha! ha!" laughed all the village people to see Iya made foolish with +anger. "Such spindle legs cannot stand to fight by daylight!" shouted +the brave ones who were terror-struck the night before by the name +"Iya." + +Warriors with long knives rushed forth and slew the camp-eater. + +Lo! there rose out of the giant a whole Indian tribe: their camp ground, +their teepees in a large circle, and the people laughing and dancing. + +"We are glad to be free!" said these strange people. + +Thus Iya was killed; and no more are the camp grounds in danger of being +swallowed up in a single night time. + + + + +MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + + +MANSTIN was an adventurous brave, but very kind-hearted. Stamping +a moccasined foot as he drew on his buckskin leggins, he said: +"Grandmother, beware of Iktomi! Do not let him lure you into some +cunning trap. I am going to the North country on a long hunt." + +With these words of caution to the bent old rabbit grandmother with whom +he had lived since he was a tiny babe, Manstin started off toward +the north. He was scarce over the great high hills when he heard the +shrieking of a human child. + +"Wan!" he ejaculated, pointing his long ears toward the direction of the +sound; "Wan! that is the work of cruel Double-Face. Shameless coward! he +delights in torturing helpless creatures!" + +Muttering indistinct words, Manstin ran up the last hill and lo! in the +ravine beyond stood the terrible monster with a face in front and one in +the back of his head! + +This brown giant was without clothes save for a wild-cat-skin about his +loins. With a wicked gleaming eye, he watched the little black-haired +baby he held in his strong arm. In a laughing voice he hummed an Indian +mother's lullaby, "A-boo! Aboo!" and at the same time he switched the +naked baby with a thorny wild-rose bush. + +Quickly Manstin jumped behind a large sage bush on the brow of the hill. +He bent his bow and the sinewy string twanged. Now an arrow stuck above +the ear of Double-Face. It was a poisoned arrow, and the giant fell +dead. Then Manstin took the little brown baby and hurried away from the +ravine. Soon he came to a teepee from whence loud wailing voices +broke. It was the teepee of the stolen baby and the mourners were its +heart-broken parents. + +When gallant Manstin returned the child to the eager arms of the mother +there came a sudden terror into the eyes of both the Dakotas. They +feared lest it was Double-Face come in a new guise to torture them. +The rabbit understood their fear and said: "I am Manstin, the +kind-hearted,--Manstin, the noted huntsman. I am your friend. Do not +fear." + +That night a strange thing happened. While the father and mother slept, +Manstin took the wee baby. With his feet placed gently yet firmly upon +the tiny toes of the little child, he drew upward by each small hand the +sleeping child till he was a full-grown man. With a forefinger he traced +a slit in the upper lip; and when on the morrow the man and woman awoke +they could not distinguish their own son from Manstin, so much alike +were the braves. + +"Henceforth we are friends, to help each other," said Manstin, shaking a +right hand in farewell. "The earth is our common ear, to carry from its +uttermost extremes one's slightest wish for the other!" + +"Ho! Be it so!" answered the newly made man. + +Upon leaving his friend, Manstin hurried away toward the North country +whither he was bound for a long hunt. Suddenly he came upon the edge of +a wide brook. His alert eye caught sight of a rawhide rope staked to the +water's brink, which led away toward a small round hut in the distance. +The ground was trodden into a deep groove beneath the loosely drawn +rawhide rope. + +"Hun-he!" exclaimed Manstin, bending over the freshly made footprints in +the moist bank of the brook. "A man's footprints!" he said to himself. +"A blind man lives in yonder hut! This rope is his guide by which he +comes for his daily water!" surmised Manstin, who knew all the peculiar +contrivances of the people. At once his eyes became fixed upon the +solitary dwelling and hither he followed his curiosity,--a real blind +man's rope. + +Quietly he lifted the door-flap and entered in. An old toothless +grandfather, blind and shaky with age, sat upon the ground. He was +not deaf however. He heard the entrance and felt the presence of some +stranger. + +"How, grandchild," he mumbled, for he was old enough to be grandparent +to every living thing, "how! I cannot see you. Pray, speak your name!" + +"Grandfather, I am Manstin," answered the rabbit, all the while looking +with curious eyes about the wigwam. + +"Grandfather, what is it so tightly packed in all these buckskin bags +placed against the tent poles?" he asked. + +"My grandchild, those are dried buffalo meat and venison. These are +magic bags which never grow empty. I am blind and cannot go on a hunt. +Hence a kind Maker has given me these magic bags of choicest foods." + +Then the old, bent man pulled at a rope which lay by his right hand. +"This leads me to the brook where I drink! and this," said he, turning +to the one on his left, "and this takes me into the forest, where I feel +about for dry sticks for my fire." + +"Grandfather, I wish I lived in such sure luxury! I would lean back +against a tent pole, and with crossed feet I would smoke sweet willow +bark the rest of my days," sighed Manstin. + +"My grandchild, your eyes are your luxury! you would be unhappy without +them!" the old man replied. + +"Grandfather, I would give you my two eyes for your place!" cried +Manstin. + +"How! you have said it. Arise. Take out your eyes and give them to me. +Henceforth you are at home here in my stead." + +At once Manstin took out both his eyes and the old man put them on! +Rejoicing, the old grandfather started away with his young eyes while +the blind rabbit filled his dream pipe, leaning lazily against the tent +pole. For a short time it was a most pleasant pastime to smoke willow +bark and to eat from the magic bags. + +Manstin grew thirsty, but there was no water in the small dwelling. +Taking one of the rawhide ropes he started toward the brook to quench +his thirst. He was young and unwilling to trudge slowly in the old man's +footpath. He was full of glee, for it had been many long moons since he +had tasted such good food. Thus he skipped confidently along jerking the +old weather-eaten rawhide spasmodically till all of a sudden it gave way +and Manstin fell headlong into the water. + +"En! En!" he grunted kicking frantically amid stream. All along the +slippery bank he vainly tried to climb, till at last he chanced upon the +old stake and the deeply worn footpath. Exhausted and inwardly disgusted +with his mishaps, he crawled more cautiously on all fours to his wigwam +door. Dripping with his recent plunge he sat with chattering teeth +within his unfired wigwam. + +The sun had set and the night air was chilly, but there was no fire-wood +in the dwelling. "Hin!" murmured Manstin and bravely tried the other +rope. "I go for some fire-wood!" he said, following the rawhide rope +which led into the forest. Soon he stumbled upon thickly strewn dry +willow sticks. Eagerly with both hands he gathered the wood into his +outspread blanket. Manstin was naturally an energetic fellow. + +When he had a large heap, he tied two opposite ends of blanket +together and lifted the bundle of wood upon his back, but alas! he had +unconsciously dropped the end of the rope and now he was lost in the +wood! + +"Hin! hin!" he groaned. Then pausing a moment, he set his fan-like ears +to catch any sound of approaching footsteps. There was none. Not even a +night bird twittered to help him out of his predicament. + +With a bold face, he made a start at random. + +He fell into some tangled wood where he was held fast. Manstin let go +his bundle and began to lament having given away his two eyes. + +"Friend, my friend, I have need of you! The old oak tree grandfather +has gone off with my eyes and I am lost in the woods!" he cried with his +lips close to the earth. + +Scarcely had he spoken when the sound of voices was audible on the outer +edge of the forest. Nearer and louder grew the voices--one was the clear +flute tones of a young brave and the other the tremulous squeaks of an +old grandfather. + +It was Manstin's friend with the Earth Ear and the old grandfather. +"Here Manstin, take back your eyes," said the old man, "I knew you would +not be content in my stead, but I wanted you to learn your lesson. I +have had pleasure seeing with your eyes and trying your bow and arrows, +but since I am old and feeble I much prefer my own teepee and my magic +bags!" + +Thus talking the three returned to the hut. The old grandfather crept +into his wigwam, which is often mistaken for a mere oak tree by little +Indian girls and boys. + +Manstin, with his own bright eyes fitted into his head again, went on +happily to hunt in the North country. + + + + +THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + +ONCE seven people went out to make war,--the Ashes, the Fire, the +Bladder, the Grasshopper, the Dragon Fly, the Fish, and the Turtle. As +they were talking excitedly, waving their fists in violent gestures, a +wind came and blew the Ashes away. "Ho!" cried the others, "he could not +fight, this one!" + +The six went on running to make war more quickly. They descended a deep +valley, the Fire going foremost until they came to a river. The Fire +said "Hsss--tchu!" and was gone. "Ho!" hooted the others, "he could not +fight, this one!" + +Therefore the five went on the more quickly to make war. They came to a +great wood. While they were going through it, the Bladder was heard +to sneer and to say, "He! you should rise above these, brothers." With +these words he went upward among the tree-tops; and the thorn apple +pricked him. He fell through the branches and was nothing! "You see +this!" said the four, "this one could not fight." + +Still the remaining warriors would not turn back. The four went boldly +on to make war. The Grasshopper with his cousin, the Dragon Fly, went +foremost. They reached a marshy place, and the mire was very deep. As +they waded through the mud, the Grasshopper's legs stuck, and he pulled +them off! He crawled upon a log and wept, "You see me, brothers, I +cannot go!" + +The Dragon Fly went on, weeping for his cousin. He would not be +comforted, for he loved his cousin dearly. The more he grieved, the +louder he cried, till his body shook with great violence. He blew his +red swollen nose with a loud noise so that his head came off his slender +neck, and he was fallen upon the grass. + +"You see how it is," said the Fish, lashing his tail impatiently, "these +people were not warriors!" + +"Come!" he said, "let us go on to make war." + +Thus the Fish and the Turtle came to a large camp ground. + +"Ho!" exclaimed the people of this round village of teepees, "Who are +these little ones? What do they seek?" + +Neither of the warriors carried weapons with them, and their unimposing +stature misled the curious people. + +The Fish was spokesman. With a peculiar omission of syllables, he said: +"Shu... hi pi!" + +"Wan! what? what?" clamored eager voices of men and women. + +Again the Fish said: "Shu... hi pi!" Everywhere stood young and old with +a palm to an ear. Still no one guessed what the Fish had mumbled! + +From the bewildered crowd witty old Iktomi came forward. "He, listen!" +he shouted, rubbing his mischievous palms together, for where there was +any trouble brewing, he was always in the midst of it. + +"This little strange man says, 'Zuya unhipi! We come to make war!'" + +"Uun!" resented the people, suddenly stricken glum. "Let us kill the +silly pair! They can do nothing! They do not know the meaning of the +phrase. Let us build a fire and boil them both!" + +"If you put us on to boil," said the Fish, "there will be trouble." + +"Ho ho!" laughed the village folk. "We shall see." + +And so they made a fire. + +"I have never been so angered!" said the Fish. The Turtle in a whispered +reply said: "We shall die!" + +When a pair of strong hands lifted the Fish over the sputtering water, +he put his mouth downward. "Whssh!" he said. He blew the water all over +the people, so that many were burned and could not see. Screaming with +pain, they ran away. + +"Oh, what shall we do with these dreadful ones?" they said. + +Others exclaimed: "Let us carry them to the lake of muddy water and +drown them!" + +Instantly they ran with them. They threw the Fish and the Turtle into +the lake. Toward the center of the large lake the Turtle dived. There +he peeped up out of the water and, waving a hand at the crowd, sang out, +"This is where I live!" + +The Fish swam hither and thither with such frolicsome darts that his +back fin made the water fly. "E han!" whooped the Fish, "this is where I +live!" + +"Oh, what have we done!" said the frightened people, "this will be our +undoing." + +Then a wise chief said: "Iya, the Eater, shall come and swallow the +lake!" + +So one went running. He brought Iya, the Eater; and Iya drank all day at +the lake till his belly was like the earth. Then the Fish and the Turtle +dived into the mud; and Iya said: "They are not in me." Hearing this the +people cried greatly. + +Iktomi wading in the lake had been swallowed like a gnat in the water. +Within the great Iya he was looking skyward. So deep was the water +in the Eater's stomach that the surface of the swallowed lake almost +touched the sky. + +"I will go that way," said Iktomi, looking at the concave within arm's +reach. + +He struck his knife upward in the Eater's stomach, and the water falling +out drowned those people of the village. + +Now when the great water fell into its own bed, the Fish and the Turtle +came to the shore. They went home painted victors and loud-voiced +singers. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Old Indian Legends, by Zitkala-Sa + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD INDIAN LEGENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 338.txt or 338.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/338/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + + +RETOLD BY +ZITKALA-SA + + + +ITKALA-SA. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS +IKTOMI'S BLANKET +IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT +IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE +IKTOMI AND THE FAWN +THE BADGER AND THE BEAR +THE TREE-BOUND +SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE +IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE +DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL +THE TOAD AND THE BOY +IYA, THE CAMP-EATER +MANSTIN, THE RABBIT +THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + +1 + + + + + +OLD INDIAN LEGENDS + + + +IKTOMI AND THE DUCKS + + +IKTOMI is a spider fairy. He wears brown deerskin leggins +with long soft fringes on either side, and tiny beaded moccasins on +his feet. His long black hair is parted in the middle and wrapped +with red, red bands. Each round braid hangs over a small brown ear +and falls forward over his shoulders. + +He even paints his funny face with red and yellow, and draws +big black rings around his eyes. He wears a deerskin jacket, with +bright colored beads sewed tightly on it. Iktomi dresses like a +real Dakota brave. In truth, his paint and deerskins are the best +part of him--if ever dress is part of man or fairy. + +Iktomi is a wily fellow. His hands are always kept in +mischief. He prefers to spread a snare rather than to earn the +smallest thing with honest hunting. Why! he laughs outright with +wide open mouth when some simple folk are caught in a trap, sure +and fast. + +He never dreams another lives so bright as he. Often his own +conceit leads him hard against the common sense of simpler people. + +Poor Iktomi cannot help being a little imp. And so long as he +is a naughty fairy, he cannot find a single friend. No one helps +him when he is in trouble. No one really loves him. Those who +come to admire his handsome beaded jacket and long fringed leggins +soon go away sick and tired of his vain, vain words and heartless +laughter. + +Thus Iktomi lives alone in a cone-shaped wigwam upon the +plain. One day he sat hungry within his teepee. Suddenly he +rushed out, dragging after him his blanket. Quickly spreading it +on the ground, he tore up dry tall grass with both his hands and +tossed it fast into the blanket. + +Tying all the four corners together in a knot, he threw the +light bundle of grass over his shoulder. + +Snatching up a slender willow stick with his free left hand, +he started off with a hop and a leap. From side to side bounced +the bundle on his back, as he ran light-footed over the uneven +ground. Soon he came to the edge of the great level land. On the +hilltop he paused for breath. With wicked smacks of his dry +parched lips, as if tasting some tender meat, he looked straight +into space toward the marshy river bottom. With a thin palm +shading his eyes from the western sun, he peered far away into the +lowlands, munching his own cheeks all the while. "Ah-ha!" grunted +he, satisfied with what he saw. + +A group of wild ducks were dancing and feasting in the +marshes. With wings outspread, tip to tip, they moved up and down +in a large circle. Within the ring, around a small drum, sat the +chosen singers, nodding their heads and blinking their eyes. + +They sang in unison a merry dance-song, and beat a lively +tattoo on the drum. + +Following a winding footpath near by, came a bent figure of a +Dakota brave. He bore on his back a very large bundle. With a +willow cane he propped himself up as he staggered along beneath his +burden. + +"Ho! who is there?" called out a curious old duck, still +bobbing up and down in the circular dance. + +Hereupon the drummers stretched their necks till they +strangled their song for a look at the stranger passing by. + +"Ho, Iktomi! Old fellow, pray tell us what you carry in your +blanket. Do not hurry off! Stop! halt!" urged one of the singers. + +"Stop! stay! Show us what is in your blanket!" cried out +other voices. + +"My friends, I must not spoil your dance. Oh, you would not +care to see if you only knew what is in my blanket. Sing on! dance +on! I must not show you what I carry on my back," answered Iktomi, +nudging his own sides with his elbows. This reply broke up the +ring entirely. Now all the ducks crowded about Iktomi. + +"We must see what you carry! We must know what is in your +blanket!" they shouted in both his ears. Some even brushed their +wings against the mysterious bundle. Nudging himself again, wily +Iktomi said, "My friends, 't is only a pack of songs I carry in my +blanket." + +"Oh, then let us hear your songs!" cried the curious ducks. + +At length Iktomi consented to sing his songs. With delight +all the ducks flapped their wings and cried together, "Hoye! hoye!" + +Iktomi, with great care, laid down his bundle on the ground. + +"I will build first a round straw house, for I never sing my +songs in the open air," said he. + +Quickly he bent green willow sticks, planting both ends of +each pole into the earth. These he covered thick with reeds and +grasses. Soon the straw hut was ready. One by one the fat ducks +waddled in through a small opening, which was the only entrance +way. Beside the door Iktomi stood smiling, as the ducks, eyeing +his bundle of songs, strutted into the hut. + +In a strange low voice Iktomi began his queer old tunes. All +the ducks sat round-eyed in a circle about the mysterious singer. +It was dim in that straw hut, for Iktomi had not forgot to cover up +the small entrance way. All of a sudden his song burst into full +voice. As the startled ducks sat uneasily on the ground, Iktomi +changed his tune into a minor strain. These were the words he +sang: + +"Istokmus wacipo, tuwayatunwanpi kinhan ista nisasapi kta," +which is, "With eyes closed you must dance. He who dares to open +his eyes, forever red eyes shall have." + +Up rose the circle of seated ducks and holding their wings +close against their sides began to dance to the rhythm of Iktomi's +song and drum. + +With eyes closed they did dance! Iktomi ceased to beat his +drum. He began to sing louder and faster. He seemed to be moving +about in the center of the ring. No duck dared blink a wink. Each +one shut his eyes very tight and danced even harder. Up and down! +Shifting to the right of them they hopped round and round in that +blind dance. It was a difficult dance for the curious folk. + +At length one of the dancers could close his eyes no longer! +It was a Skiska who peeped the least tiny blink at Iktomi within +the center of the circle. "Oh! oh!" squawked he in awful terror! +"Run! fly! Iktomi is twisting your heads and breaking your necks! +Run out and fly! fly!" he cried. Hereupon the ducks opened their +eyes. There beside Iktomi's bundle of songs lay half of their +crowd--flat on their backs. + +Out they flew through the opening Skiska had made as he rushed +forth with his alarm. + +But as they soared high into the blue sky they cried to one +another: "Oh! your eyes are red-red!" "And yours are red-red!" +For the warning words of the magic minor strain had proven true. +"Ah-ha!" laughed Iktomi, untying the four corners of his blanket, +"I shall sit no more hungry within my dwelling." Homeward he +trudged along with nice fat ducks in his blanket. He left the +little straw hut for the rains and winds to pull down. + +Having reached his own teepee on the high level lands, Iktomi +kindled a large fire out of doors. He planted sharp-pointed sticks +around the leaping flames. On each stake he fastened a duck to +roast. A few he buried under the ashes to bake. Disappearing +within his teepee, he came out again with some huge seashells. +These were his dishes. Placing one under each roasting duck, he +muttered, "The sweet fat oozing out will taste well with the +hard-cooked breasts." + +Heaping more willows upon the fire, Iktomi sat down on the +ground with crossed shins. A long chin between his knees pointed +toward the red flames, while his eyes were on the browning ducks. + +Just above his ankles he clasped and unclasped his long bony +fingers. Now and then he sniffed impatiently the savory odor. + +The brisk wind which stirred the fire also played with a +squeaky old tree beside Iktomi's wigwam. + +From side to side the tree was swaying and crying in an old +man's voice, "Help! I'll break! I'll fall!" Iktomi shrugged his +great shoulders, but did not once take his eyes from the ducks. +The dripping of amber oil into pearly dishes, drop by drop, pleased +his hungry eyes. Still the old tree man called for help. "He! +What sound is it that makes my ear ache!" exclaimed Iktomi, holding +a hand on his ear. + +He rose and looked around. The squeaking came from the tree. +Then he began climbing the tree to find the disagreeable sound. He +placed his foot right on a cracked limb without seeing it. Just +then a whiff of wind came rushing by and pressed together the +broken edges. There in a strong wooden hand Iktomi's foot was +caught. + +"Oh! my foot is crushed!" he howled like a coward. In vain he +pulled and puffed to free himself. + +While sitting a prisoner on the tree he spied, through his +tears, a pack of gray wolves roaming over the level lands. Waving +his hands toward them, he called in his loudest voice, "He! Gray +wolves! Don't you come here! I'm caught fast in the tree so that +my duck feast is getting cold. Don't you come to eat up my meal." + +The leader of the pack upon hearing Iktomi's words turned to +his comrades and said: + +"Ah! hear the foolish fellow! He says he has a duck feast to +be eaten! Let us hurry there for our share!" Away bounded the +wolves toward Iktomi's lodge. + +From the tree Iktomi watched the hungry wolves eat up his +nicely browned fat ducks. His foot pained him more and more. He +heard them crack the small round bones with their strong long teeth +and eat out the oily marrow. Now severe pains shot up from his +foot through his whole body. "Hin-hin-hin!" sobbed Iktomi. Real +tears washed brown streaks across his red-painted cheeks. Smacking +their lips, the wolves began to leave the place, when Iktomi cried +out like a pouting child, "At least you have left my baking under +the ashes!" + +"Ho! Po!" shouted the mischievous wolves; "he says more ducks +are to be found under the ashes! Come! Let us have our fill this +once!" + +Running back to the dead fire, they pawed out the ducks with +such rude haste that a cloud of ashes rose like gray smoke over +them. + +"Hin-hin-hin!" moaned Iktomi, when the wolves had scampered +off. All too late, the sturdy breeze returned, and, passing by, +pulled apart the broken edges of the tree. Iktomi was released. +But alas! he had no duck feast. + + + + + + +IKTOMI'S BLANKET + + + + +IKTOMI'S BLANKET + + +ALONE within his teepee sat Iktomi. The sun was but a +handsbreadth from the western edge of land. + +"Those, bad, bad gray wolves! They ate up all my nice fat +ducks!" muttered he, rocking his body to and fro. + +He was cuddling the evil memory he bore those hungry wolves. +At last he ceased to sway his body backward and forward, but sat +still and stiff as a stone image. + +"Oh! I'll go to Inyan, the great-grandfather, and pray for +food!" he exclaimed. + +At once he hurried forth from his teepee and, with his blanket +over one shoulder, drew nigh to a huge rock on a hillside. + +With half-crouching, half-running strides, he fell upon Inyan +with outspread hands. + +"Grandfather! pity me. I am hungry. I am starving. Give me +food. Great-grandfather, give me meat to eat!" he cried. All the +while he stroked and caressed the face of the great stone god. + +The all-powerful Great Spirit, who makes the trees and grass, +can hear the voice of those who pray in many varied ways. The +hearing of Inyan, the large hard stone, was the one most sought +after. He was the great-grandfather, for he had sat upon the +hillside many, many seasons. He had seen the prairie put on a +snow-white blanket and then change it for a bright green robe more +than a thousand times. + +Still unaffected by the myriad moons he rested on the +everlasting hill, listening to the prayers of Indian warriors. +Before the finding of the magic arrow he had sat there. + +Now, as Iktomi prayed and wept before the great-grandfather, +the sky in the west was red like a glowing face. The sunset poured +a soft mellow light upon the huge gray stone and the solitary +figure beside it. It was the smile of the Great Spirit upon the +grandfather and the wayward child. + +The prayer was heard. Iktomi knew it. "Now, grandfather, +accept my offering; 'tis all I have," said Iktomi as he spread +his half-worn blanket upon Inyan's cold shoulders. Then Iktomi, +happy with the smile of the sunset sky, followed a footpath leading +toward a thicketed ravine. He had not gone many paces into the +shrubbery when before him lay a freshly wounded deer! + +"This is the answer from the red western sky!" cried Iktomi +with hands uplifted. + +Slipping a long thin blade from out his belt, he cut large +chunks of choice meat. Sharpening some willow sticks, he planted +them around a wood-pile he had ready to kindle. On these stakes he +meant to roast the venison. + +While he was rubbing briskly two long sticks to start a fire, +the sun in the west fell out of the sky below the edge of land. +Twilight was over all. Iktomi felt the cold night air upon his +bare neck and shoulders. "Ough!" he shivered as he wiped his knife +on the grass. Tucking it in a beaded case hanging from his belt, +Iktomi stood erect, looking about. He shivered again. "Ough! Ah! +I am cold. I wish I had my blanket!" whispered he, hovering over +the pile of dry sticks and the sharp stakes round about it. +Suddenly he paused and dropped his hands at his sides. + +"The old great-grandfather does not feel the cold as I do. He +does not need my old blanket as I do. I wish I had not given it to +him. Oh! I think I'll run up there and take it back!" said he, +pointing his long chin toward the large gray stone. + +Iktomi, in the warm sunshine, had no need of his blanket, and +it had been very easy to part with a thing which he could not miss. +But the chilly night wind quite froze his ardent thank-offering. + +Thus running up the hillside, his teeth chattering all the +way, he drew near to Inyan, the sacred symbol. Seizing one corner +of the half-worn blanket, Iktomi pulled it off with a jerk. + +"Give my blanket back, old grandfather! You do not need it. +I do!" This was very wrong, yet Iktomi did it, for his wit was not +wisdom. Drawing the blanket tight over his shoulders, he descended +the hill with hurrying feet. + +He was soon upon the edge of the ravine. A young moon, like +a bright bent bow, climbed up from the southwest horizon a little +way into the sky. + +In this pale light Iktomi stood motionless as a ghost amid the +thicket. His woodpile was not yet kindled. His pointed stakes +were still bare as he had left them. But where was the deer--the +venison he had felt warm in his hands a moment ago? It was gone. +Only the dry rib bones lay on the ground like giant fingers from an +open grave. Iktomi was troubled. At length, stooping over the +white dried bones, he took hold of one and shook it. The bones, +loose in their sockets, rattled together at his touch. Iktomi let +go his hold. He sprang back amazed. And though he wore a blanket +his teeth chattered more than ever. Then his blunted sense will +surprise you, little reader; for instead of being grieved that he +had taken back his blanket, he cried aloud, "Hin-hin-hin! If only +I had eaten the venison before going for my blanket!" + +Those tears no longer moved the hand of the Generous Giver. +They were selfish tears. The Great Spirit does not heed them ever. + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE MUSKRAT + + +BESIDE a white lake, beneath a large grown willow tree, sat +Iktomi on the bare ground. The heap of smouldering ashes told of +a recent open fire. With ankles crossed together around a pot of +soup, Iktomi bent over some delicious boiled fish. + +Fast he dipped his black horn spoon into the soup, for he was +ravenous. Iktomi had no regular meal times. Often when he was +hungry he went without food. + +Well hid between the lake and the wild rice, he looked nowhere +save into the pot of fish. Not knowing when the next meal would +be, he meant to eat enough now to last some time. + +"How, how, my friend!" said a voice out of the wild rice. +Iktomi started. He almost choked with his soup. He peered through +the long reeds from where he sat with his long horn spoon in +mid-air. + +"How, my friend!" said the voice again, this time close at his +side. Iktomi turned and there stood a dripping muskrat who had +just come out of the lake. + +"Oh, it is my friend who startled me. I wondered if among the +wild rice some spirit voice was talking. How, how, my friend!" +said Iktomi. The muskrat stood smiling. On his lips hung a ready +"Yes, my friend," when Iktomi would ask, "My friend, will you sit +down beside me and share my food?" + +That was the custom of the plains people. Yet Iktomi sat +silent. He hummed an old dance-song and beat gently on the edge of +the pot with his buffalo-horn spoon. The muskrat began to feel +awkward before such lack of hospitality and wished himself under +water. + +After many heart throbs Iktomi stopped drumming with his horn +ladle, and looking upward into the muskrat's face, he said: + +"My friend, let us run a race to see who shall win this pot of +fish. If I win, I shall not need to share it with you. If you +win, you shall have half of it." Springing to his feet, Iktomi +began at once to tighten the belt about his waist. + +"My friend Ikto, I cannot run a race with you! I am not a +swift runner, and you are nimble as a deer. We shall not run any +race together," answered the hungry muskrat. + +For a moment Iktomi stood with a hand on his long protruding +chin. His eyes were fixed upon something in the air. The muskrat +looked out of the corners of his eyes without moving his head. He +watched the wily Iktomi concocting a plot. + +"Yes, yes," said Iktomi, suddenly turning his gaze upon the +unwelcome visitor; + +"I shall carry a large stone on my back. That will slacken my +usual speed; and the race will be a fair one." + +Saying this he laid a firm hand upon the muskrat's shoulder +and started off along the edge of the lake. When they reached the +opposite side Iktomi pried about in search of a heavy stone. + +He found one half-buried in the shallow water. Pulling it out +upon dry land, he wrapped it in his blanket. + +"Now, my friend, you shall run on the left side of the lake, +I on the other. The race is for the boiled fish in yonder kettle!" +said Iktomi. + +The muskrat helped to lift the heavy stone upon Iktomi's back. +Then they parted. Each took a narrow path through the tall reeds +fringing the shore. Iktomi found his load a heavy one. +Perspiration hung like beads on his brow. His chest heaved hard +and fast. + +He looked across the lake to see how far the muskrat had gone, +but nowhere did he see any sign of him. "Well, he is running low +under the wild rice!" said he. Yet as he scanned the tall grasses +on the lake shore, he saw not one stir as if to make way for the +runner. "Ah, has he gone so fast ahead that the disturbed grasses +in his trail have quieted again?" exclaimed Iktomi. With that +thought he quickly dropped the heavy stone. "No more of this!" +said he, patting his chest with both hands. + +Off with a springing bound, he ran swiftly toward the goal. +Tufts of reeds and grass fell flat under his feet. Hardly had they +raised their heads when Iktomi was many paces gone. + +Soon he reached the heap of cold ashes. Iktomi halted stiff +as if he had struck an invisible cliff. His black eyes showed a +ring of white about them as he stared at the empty ground. There +was no pot of boiled fish! There was no water-man in sight! "Oh, +if only I had shared my food like a real Dakota, I would not have +lost it all! Why did I not know the muskrat would run through the +water? He swims faster than I could ever run! That is what he has +done. He has laughed at me for carrying a weight on my back while +he shot hither like an arrow!" + +Crying thus to himself, Iktomi stepped to the water's brink. +He stooped forward with a hand on each bent knee and peeped far +into the deep water. + +"There!" he exclaimed, "I see you, my friend, sitting with +your ankles wound around my little pot of fish! My friend, I am +hungry. Give me a bone!" + +"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the water-man, the muskrat. The sound +did not rise up out of the lake, for it came down from overhead. +With his hands still on his knees, Iktomi turned his face upward +into the great willow tree. Opening wide his mouth he begged, "My +friend, my friend, give me a bone to gnaw!" + +"Ha! ha!" laughed the muskrat, and leaning over the limb he +sat upon, he let fall a small sharp bone which dropped right into +Iktomi's throat. Iktomi almost choked to death before he could get +it out. In the tree the muskrat sat laughing loud. "Next time, +say to a visiting friend, 'Be seated beside me, my friend. Let me +share with you my food.'" + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE COYOTE + + +AFAR off upon a large level land, a summer sun was shining +bright. Here and there over the rolling green were tall bunches of +coarse gray weeds. Iktomi in his fringed buckskins walked alone +across the prairie with a black bare head glossy in the sunlight. +He walked through the grass without following any well-worn +footpath. + +From one large bunch of coarse weeds to another he wound his +way about the great plain. He lifted his foot lightly and placed +it gently forward like a wildcat prowling noiselessly through the +thick grass. He stopped a few steps away from a very large bunch +of wild sage. From shoulder to shoulder he tilted his head. Still +farther he bent from side to side, first low over one hip and then +over the other. Far forward he stooped, stretching his long thin +neck like a duck, to see what lay under a fur coat beyond the bunch +of coarse grass. + +A sleek gray-faced prairie wolf! his pointed black nose tucked +in between his four feet drawn snugly together; his handsome bushy +tail wound over his nose and feet; a coyote fast asleep in the +shadow of a bunch of grass!--this is what Iktomi spied. Carefully +he raised one foot and cautiously reached out with his toes. +Gently, gently he lifted the foot behind and placed it before the +other. Thus he came nearer and nearer to the round fur ball lying +motionless under the sage grass. + +Now Iktomi stood beside it, looking at the closed eyelids that +did not quiver the least bit. Pressing his lips into straight +lines and nodding his head slowly, he bent over the wolf. He held +his ear close to the coyote's nose, but not a breath of air stirred +from it. + +"Dead!" said he at last. "Dead, but not long since he ran +over these plains! See! there in his paw is caught a fresh +feather. He is nice fat meat!" Taking hold of the paw with the +bird feather fast on it, he exclaimed, "Why, he is still warm! +I'll carry him to my dwelling and have a roast for my evening meal. +Ah-ha!" he laughed, as he seized the coyote by its two fore paws +and its two hind feet and swung him over head across his shoulders. +The wolf was large and the teepee was far across the prairie. +Iktomi trudged along with his burden, smacking his hungry lips +together. He blinked his eyes hard to keep out the salty +perspiration streaming down his face. + +All the while the coyote on his back lay gazing into the sky +with wide open eyes. His long white teeth fairly gleamed as he +smiled and smiled. + +"To ride on one's own feet is tiresome, but to be carried like +a warrior from a brave fight is great fun!" said the coyote in his +heart. He had never been borne on any one's back before and the +new experience delighted him. He lay there lazily on Iktomi's +shoulders, now and then blinking blue winks. Did you never see a +birdie blink a blue wink? This is how it first became a saying +among the plains people. When a bird stands aloof watching your +strange ways, a thin bluish white tissue slips quickly over his +eyes and as quickly off again; so quick that you think it was only +a mysterious blue wink. Sometimes when children grow drowsy they +blink blue winks, while others who are too proud to look with +friendly eyes upon people blink in this cold bird-manner. + +The coyote was affected by both sleepiness and pride. His +winks were almost as blue as the sky. In the midst of his new +pleasure the swaying motion ceased. Iktomi had reached his +dwelling place. The coyote felt drowsy no longer, for in the next +instant he was slipping out of Iktomi's hands. He was falling, +falling through space, and then he struck the ground with such a +bump he did not wish to breathe for a while. He wondered what +Iktomi would do, thus he lay still where he fell. Humming a +dance-song, one from his bundle of mystery songs, Iktomi hopped and +darted about at an imaginary dance and feast. He gathered dry +willow sticks and broke them in two against his knee. He built a +large fire out of doors. The flames leaped up high in red and +yellow streaks. Now Iktomi returned to the coyote who had been +looking on through his eyelashes. + +Taking him again by his paws and hind feet, he swung him to +and fro. Then as the wolf swung toward the red flames, Iktomi let +him go. Once again the coyote fell through space. Hot air smote +his nostrils. He saw red dancing fire, and now he struck a bed of +cracking embers. With a quick turn he leaped out of the flames. +From his heels were scattered a shower of red coals upon Iktomi's +bare arms and shoulders. Dumbfounded, Iktomi thought he saw a +spirit walk out of his fire. His jaws fell apart. He thrust a +palm to his face, hard over his mouth! He could scarce keep from +shrieking. + +Rolling over and over on the grass and rubbing the sides of +his head against the ground, the coyote soon put out the fire on +his fur. Iktomi's eyes were almost ready to jump out of his head +as he stood cooling a burn on his brown arm with his breath. + +Sitting on his haunches, on the opposite side of the fire from +where Iktomi stood, the coyote began to laugh at him. + +"Another day, my friend, do not take too much for granted. +Make sure the enemy is stone dead before you make a fire!" + +Then off he ran so swiftly that his long bushy tail hung out +in a straight line with his back. + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE FAWN + + +IN one of his wanderings through the wooded lands, Iktomi saw +a rare bird sitting high in a tree-top. Its long fan-like tail +feathers had caught all the beautiful colors of the rainbow. +Handsome in the glistening summer sun sat the bird of rainbow +plumage. Iktomi hurried hither with his eyes fast on the bird. + +He stood beneath the tree looking long and wistfully at the +peacock's bright feathers. At length he heaved a sigh and began: +"Oh, I wish I had such pretty feathers! How I wish I were not I! +If only I were a handsome feathered creature how happy I would be! +I'd be so glad to sit upon a very high tree and bask in the summer +sun like you!" said he suddenly, pointing his bony finger up toward +the peacock, who was eyeing the stranger below, turning his head +from side to side. + +"I beg of you make me into a bird with green and purple +feathers like yours!" implored Iktomi, tired now of playing the +brave in beaded buckskins. The peacock then spoke to Iktomi: "I +have a magic power. My touch will change you in a moment into the +most beautiful peacock if you can keep one condition." + +"Yes! yes!" shouted Iktomi, jumping up and down, patting his +lips with his palm, which caused his voice to vibrate in a peculiar +fashion. "Yes! yes! I could keep ten conditions if only you would +change me into a bird with long, bright tail feathers. Oh, I am so +ugly! I am so tired of being myself! Change me! Do!" + +Hereupon the peacock spread out both his wings, and scarce +moving them, he sailed slowly down upon the ground. Right beside +Iktomi he alighted. Very low in Iktomi's ear the peacock +whispered, "Are you willing to keep one condition, though hard it +be?" + +"Yes! yes! I've told you ten of them if need be!" exclaimed +Iktomi, with some impatience. + +"Then I pronounce you a handsome feathered bird. No longer +are you Iktomi the mischief-maker." Saying this the peacock +touched Iktomi with the tips of his wings. + +Iktomi vanished at the touch. There stood beneath the tree +two handsome peacocks. While one of the pair strutted about with +a head turned aside as if dazzled by his own bright-tinted tail +feathers, the other bird soared slowly upward. He sat quiet and +unconscious of his gay plumage. He seemed content to perch there +on a large limb in the warm sunshine. + +After a little while the vain peacock, dizzy with his bright +colors, spread out his wings and lit on the same branch with the +elder bird. + +"Oh!" he exclaimed, "how hard to fly! Brightly tinted +feathers are handsome, but I wish they were light enough to fly!" +Just there the elder bird interrupted him. "That is the one +condition. Never try to fly like other birds. Upon the day you +try to fly you shall be changed into your former self." + +"Oh, what a shame that bright feathers cannot fly into the +sky!" cried the peacock. Already he grew restless. He longed to +soar through space. He yearned to fly above the trees high upward +to the sun. + + "Oh, there I see a flock of birds flying thither! Oh! oh!" +said he, flapping his wings, "I must try my wings! I am tired of +bright tail feathers. I want to try my wings." + +"No, no!" clucked the elder bird. The flock of chattering +birds flew by with whirring wings. "Oop! oop!" called some to +their mates. + +Possessed by an irrepressible impulse the Iktomi peacock +called out, "He! I want to come! Wait for me!" and with that he +gave a lunge into the air. The flock of flying feathers wheeled +about and lowered over the tree whence came the peacock's cry. +Only one rare bird sat on the tree, and beneath, on the ground, +stood a brave in brown buckskins. + +"I am my old self again!" groaned Iktomi in a sad voice. +"Make me over, pretty bird. Try me this once again!" he pleaded in +vain. + +"Old Iktomi wants to fly! Ah! We cannot wait for him!" sang +the birds as they flew away. + +Muttering unhappy vows to himself, Iktomi had not gone far +when he chanced upon a bunch of long slender arrows. One by one +they rose in the air and shot a straight line over the prairie. +Others shot up into the blue sky and were soon lost to sight. Only +one was left. He was making ready for his flight when Iktomi +rushed upon him and wailed, "I want to be an arrow! Make me into +an arrow! I want to pierce the blue Blue overhead. I want to +strike yonder summer sun in its center. Make me into an arrow!" + +"Can you keep a condition? One condition, though hard it be?" +the arrow turned to ask. + +"Yes! Yes!" shouted Iktomi, delighted. + +Hereupon the slender arrow tapped him gently with his sharp +flint beak. There was no Iktomi, but two arrows stood ready +to fly. "Now, young arrow, this is the one condition. Your flight +must always be in a straight line. Never turn a curve nor jump +about like a young fawn," said the arrow magician. He spoke slowly +and sternly. + +At once he set about to teach the new arrow how to shoot in a +long straight line. + +"This is the way to pierce the Blue overhead," said he; and +off he spun high into the sky. + +While he was gone a herd of deer came trotting by. Behind +them played the young fawns together. They frolicked about like +kittens. They bounced on all fours like balls. Then they pitched +forward, kicking their heels in the air. The Iktomi arrow watched +them so happy on the ground. Looking quickly up into the sky, he +said in his heart, "The magician is out of sight. I'll just romp +and frolic with these fawns until he returns. Fawns! Friends, do +not fear me. I want to jump and leap with you. I long to be happy +as you are," said he. The young fawns stopped with stiff legs and +stared at the speaking arrow with large brown wondering eyes. +"See! I can jump as well as you!" went on Iktomi. He gave one +tiny leap like a fawn. All of a sudden the fawns snorted with +extended nostrils at what they beheld. There among them stood +Iktomi in brown buckskins, and the strange talking arrow was gone. + +"Oh! I am myself. My old self!" cried Iktomi, pinching +himself and plucking imaginary pieces out of his jacket. + +"Hin-hin-hin! I wanted to fly!" + +The real arrow now returned to the earth. He alighted very +near Iktomi. From the high sky he had seen the fawns playing on +the green. He had seen Iktomi make his one leap, and the charm was +broken. Iktomi became his former self. + +"Arrow, my friend, change me once more!" begged Iktomi. + +"No, no more," replied the arrow. Then away he shot through +the air in the direction his comrades had flown. + +By this time the fawns gathered close around Iktomi. They +poked their noses at him trying to know who he was. + +Iktomi's tears were like a spring shower. A new desire dried +them quickly away. Stepping boldly to the largest fawn, he looked +closely at the little brown spots all over the furry face. + +"Oh, fawn! What beautiful brown spots on your face! Fawn, +dear little fawn, can you tell me how those brown spots were made +on your face?" + +"Yes," said the fawn. "When I was very, very small, my mother +marked them on my face with a red hot fire. She dug a large hole +in the ground and made a soft bed of grass and twigs in it. Then +she placed me gently there. She covered me over with dry sweet +grass and piled dry cedars on top. From a neighbor's fire she +brought hither a red, red ember. This she tucked carefully in at +my head. This is how the brown spots were made on my face." + +"Now, fawn, my friend, will you do the same for me? Won't you +mark my face with brown, brown spots just like yours?" asked +Iktomi, always eager to be like other people. + +"Yes. I can dig the ground and fill it with dry grass and +sticks. If you will jump into the pit, I'll cover you with sweet +smelling grass and cedar wood," answered the fawn. + +"Say," interrupted Ikto, "will you be sure to cover me with a +great deal of dry grass and twigs? You will make sure that the +spots will be as brown as those you wear." + +"Oh, yes. I'll pile up grass and willows once oftener than my +mother did." + +"Now let us dig the hole, pull the grass, and gather sticks," +cried Iktomi in glee. + +Thus with his own hands he aids in making his grave. After +the hole was dug and cushioned with grass, Iktomi, muttering +something about brown spots, leaped down into it. Lengthwise, flat +on his back, he lay. While the fawn covered him over with cedars, +a far-away voice came up through them, "Brown, brown spots to wear +forever!" A red ember was tucked under the dry grass. Off +scampered the fawns after their mothers; and when a great distance +away they looked backward. They saw a blue smoke rising, writhing +upward till it vanished in the blue ether. + +"Is that Iktomi's spirit?" asked one fawn of another. + +"No! I think he would jump out before he could burn into +smoke and cinders," answered his comrade. + + + + + + + +THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + + + + + + +THE BADGER AND THE BEAR + +ON the edge of a forest there lived a large family of badgers. +In the ground their dwelling was made. Its walls and roof were +covered with rocks and straw. + +Old father badger was a great hunter. He knew well how to +track the deer and buffalo. Every day he came home carrying on his +back some wild game. This kept mother badger very busy, and the +baby badgers very chubby. While the well-fed children played +about, digging little make-believe dwellings, their mother hung +thin sliced meats upon long willow racks. As fast as the meats +were dried and seasoned by sun and wind, she packed them carefully +away in a large thick bag. + +This bag was like a huge stiff envelope, but far more +beautiful to see, for it was painted all over with many bright +colors. These firmly tied bags of dried meat were laid upon the +rocks in the walls of the dwelling. In this way they were both +useful and decorative. + +One day father badger did not go off for a hunt. He stayed at +home, making new arrows. His children sat about him on the ground +floor. Their small black eyes danced with delight as they watched +the gay colors painted upon the arrows. + +All of a sudden there was heard a heavy footfall near the +entrance way. The oval-shaped door-frame was pushed aside. In +stepped a large black foot with great big claws. Then the other +clumsy foot came next. All the while the baby badgers stared hard +at the unexpected comer. After the second foot, in peeped the head +of a big black bear! His black nose was dry and parched. Silently +he entered the dwelling and sat down on the ground by the doorway. +His black eyes never left the painted bags on the rocky walls. He +guessed what was in them. He was a very hungry bear. Seeing the +racks of red meat hanging in the yard, he had come to visit the +badger family. + +Though he was a stranger and his strong paws and jaws +frightened the small badgers, the father said, "How, how, friend! +Your lips and nose look feverish and hungry. Will you eat with +us?" + +"Yes, my friend," said the bear. "I am starved. I saw your +racks of red fresh meat, and knowing your heart is kind, I came +hither. Give me meat to eat, my friend." + +Hereupon the mother badger took long strides across the room, +and as she had to pass in front of the strange visitor, she said: +"Ah han! Allow me to pass!" which was an apology. + +"How, how!" replied the bear, drawing himself closer to the +wall and crossing his shins together. + +Mother badger chose the most tender red meat, and soon over a +bed of coals she broiled the venison. + +That day the bear had all he could eat. At nightfall he rose, +and smacking his lips together,--that is the noisy way of saying +"the food was very good!"--he left the badger dwelling. The baby +badgers, peeping through the door-flap after the shaggy bear, saw +him disappear into the woods near by. + +Day after day the crackling of twigs in the forest told of +heavy footsteps. Out would come the same black bear. He never +lifted the door-flap, but thrusting it aside entered slowly in. +Always in the same place by the entrance way he sat down with +crossed shins. + +His daily visits were so regular that mother badger placed a +fur rug in his place. She did not wish a guest in her dwelling to +sit upon the bare hard ground. + +At last one time when the bear returned, his nose was bright +and black. His coat was glossy. He had grown fat upon the +badger's hospitality. + +As he entered the dwelling a pair of wicked gleams shot out of +his shaggy head. Surprised by the strange behavior of the guest +who remained standing upon the rug, leaning his round back against +the wall, father badger queried: "How, my friend! What?" + +The bear took one stride forward and shook his paw in the +badger's face. He said: "I am strong, very strong!" + +"Yes, yes, so you are," replied the badger. From the farther +end of the room mother badger muttered over her bead work: "Yes, +you grew strong from our well-filled bowls." + +The bear smiled, showing a row of large sharp teeth. + +"I have no dwelling. I have no bags of dried meat. I have no +arrows. All these I have found here on this spot," said he, +stamping his heavy foot. "I want them! See! I am strong!" +repeated he, lifting both his terrible paws. + +Quietly the father badger spoke: "I fed you. I called you +friend, though you came here a stranger and a beggar. For the +sake of my little ones leave us in peace." + +Mother badger, in her excited way, had pierced hard through +the buckskin and stuck her fingers repeatedly with her sharp awl +until she had laid aside her work. Now, while her husband was +talking to the bear, she motioned with her hands to the children. +On tiptoe they hastened to her side. + +For reply came a low growl. It grew louder and more fierce. +"Wa-ough!" he roared, and by force hurled the badgers out. First +the father badger; then the mother. The little badgers he tossed +by pairs. He threw them hard upon the ground. Standing in the +entrance way and showing his ugly teeth, he snarled, "Be gone!" + +The father and mother badger, having gained their feet, picked +up their kicking little babes, and, wailing aloud, drew the air +into their flattened lungs till they could stand alone upon their +feet. No sooner had the baby badgers caught their breath than they +howled and shrieked with pain and fright. Ah! what a dismal cry +was theirs as the whole badger family went forth wailing from out +their own dwelling! A little distance away from their stolen house +the father badger built a small round hut. He made it of bent +willows and covered it with dry grass and twigs. + +This was shelter for the night; but alas! it was empty of food +and arrows. All day father badger prowled through the forest, but +without his arrows he could not get food for his children. Upon +his return, the cry of the little ones for meat, the sad quiet of +the mother with bowed head, hurt him like a poisoned arrow wound. + +"I'll beg meat for you!" said he in an unsteady voice. +Covering his head and entire body in a long loose robe he halted +beside the big black bear. The bear was slicing red meat to hang +upon the rack. He did not pause for a look at the comer. As the +badger stood there unrecognized, he saw that the bear had brought +with him his whole family. Little cubs played under the +high-hanging new meats. They laughed and pointed with their wee +noses upward at the thin sliced meats upon the poles. + +"Have you no heart, Black Bear? My children are starving. +Give me a small piece of meat for them," begged the badger. + +"Wa-ough!" growled the angry bear, and pounced upon the +badger. "Be gone!" said he, and with his big hind foot he sent +father badger sprawling on the ground. + +All the little ruffian bears hooted and shouted "ha-ha!" to +see the beggar fall upon his face. There was one, however, who did +not even smile. He was the youngest cub. His fur coat was not as +black and glossy as those his elders wore. The hair was dry and +dingy. It looked much more like kinky wool. He was the ugly cub. +Poor little baby bear! he had always been laughed at by his older +brothers. He could not help being himself. He could not change +the differences between himself and his brothers. Thus again, +though the rest laughed aloud at the badger's fall, he did not see +the joke. His face was long and earnest. In his heart he was sad +to see the badgers crying and starving. In his breast spread a +burning desire to share his food with them. + +"I shall not ask my father for meat to give away. He would +say 'No!' Then my brothers would laugh at me," said the ugly baby +bear to himself. + +In an instant, as if his good intention had passed from him, +he was singing happily and skipping around his father at work. +Singing in his small high voice and dragging his feet in long +strides after him, as if a prankish spirit oozed out from his +heels, he strayed off through the tall grass. He was ambling +toward the small round hut. When directly in front of the entrance +way, he made a quick side kick with his left hind leg. Lo! there +fell into the badger's hut a piece of fresh meat. It was tough +meat, full of sinews, yet it was the only piece he could take +without his father's notice. + +Thus having given meat to the hungry badgers, the ugly baby +bear ran quickly away to his father again. + +On the following day the father badger came back once more. +He stood watching the big bear cutting thin slices of meat. + +" Give--" he began, when the bear turning upon him with a +growl, thrust him cruelly aside. The badger fell on his hands. He +fell where the grass was wet with the blood of the newly carved +buffalo. His keen starving eyes caught sight of a little red clot +lying bright upon the green. Looking fearfully toward the bear and +seeing his head was turned away, he snatched up the small thick +blood. Underneath his girdled blanket he hid it in his hand. + +On his return to his family, he said within himself : "I'll +pray the Great Spirit to bless it." Thus he built a small round +lodge. Sprinkling water upon the heated heap of sacred stones +within, he made ready to purge his body. "The buffalo blood, too, +must be purified before I ask a blessing upon it," thought the +badger. He carried it into the sacred vapor lodge. After placing +it near the sacred stones, he sat down beside it. After a long +silence, he muttered: "Great Spirit, bless this little buffalo +blood." Then he arose, and with a quiet dignity stepped out of the +lodge. Close behind him some one followed. The badger turned to +look over his shoulder and to his great joy he beheld a Dakota +brave in handsome buckskins. In his hand he carried a magic arrow. +Across his back dangled a long fringed quiver. In answer to the +badger's prayer, the avenger had sprung from out the red globules. + +"My son!" exclaimed the badger with extended right hand. + +"How, father," replied the brave; "I am your avenger!" + +Immediately the badger told the sad story of his hungry little +ones and the stingy bear. + +Listening closely the young man stood looking steadily upon +the ground. + +At length the father badger moved away. + +"Where?" queried the avenger. + +"My son, we have no food. I am going again to beg for meat," +answered the badger. + +"Then I go with you," replied the young brave. This made the +old badger happy. He was proud of his son. He was delighted to be +called "father" by the first human creature. + +The bear saw the badger coming in the distance. He narrowed +his eyes at the tall stranger walking beside him. He spied the +arrow. At once he guessed it was the avenger of whom he had heard +long, long ago. As they approached, the bear stood erect with a +hand on his thigh. He smiled upon them. + +"How, badger, my friend! Here is my knife. Cut your favorite +pieces from the deer," said he, holding out a long thin blade. + +"How!" said the badger eagerly. He wondered what had inspired +the big bear to such a generous deed. The young avenger waited +till the badger took the long knife in his hand. + +Gazing full into the black bear's face, he said: "I come to do +justice. You have returned only a knife to my poor father. Now +return to him his dwelling." His voice was deep and powerful. In +his black eyes burned a steady fire. + +The long strong teeth of the bear rattled against each other, +and his shaggy body shook with fear. "Ahow!" cried he, as if he +had been shot. Running into the dwelling he gasped, breathless and +trembling, "Come out, all of you! This is the badger's dwelling. +We must flee to the forest for fear of the avenger who carries the +magic arrow." + +Out they hurried, all the bears, and disappeared into the +woods. + +Singing and laughing, the badgers returned to their own +dwelling. + +Then the avenger left them. + +"I go," said he in parting, "over the earth." + + + + + +THE TREE-BOUND + + + + + + +THE TREE-BOUND + + +IT was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low +over the edge of the green level land. A large yellow sun hung +directly overhead. + +The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and +sky with sweet music. Again and again sang a yellow-breasted +birdie--"Koda Ni Dakota!" He insisted upon it. "Koda Ni Dakota!" +which was "Friend, you're a Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!" +Perchance the birdie meant the avenger with the magic arrow, for +there across the plain he strode. He was handsome in his paint and +feathers, proud with his great buckskin quiver on his back and a +long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp of cone-shaped +teepees he was going. There over the Indian village hovered a +large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every +morning rose this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and +spreading out his gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp +ground. Then it was that the people, terror-stricken, ran +screaming into their lodges. Covering their heads with their +blankets, they sat trembling with fear. No one dared to venture +out till the red eagle had disappeared beyond the west, where meet +the blue and green. + +In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his +warriors a powerful marksman who could send a death arrow to the +man-hungry bird. At last to urge his men to their utmost skill he +bade his crier proclaim a new reward. + +Of the chieftain's two beautiful daughters he would have his +choice who brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its +breast. + +Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young +and old, both heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the +contest. At gray dawn there stood indistinct under the shadow of +the bluff many human figures; silent as ghosts and wrapped in robes +girdled tight about their waists, they waited with chosen bow and +arrow. + +Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They +crouched low upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed +upon the top of the high bluff. Breathless they watched for the +soaring of the red eagle. + +From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small +holes in the front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and +hard-set teeth, the women peered out upon the Dakota men prowling +about with bows and arrows. + +At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern +horizon at the armed Dakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the +edge of the cliff. Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his +neck and flapped his strong wings together. Then he dived into the +air. Slowly he winged his way over the round camp ground; over the +men with their strong bows and arrows! In an instant the long bows +were bent. Strong straight arrows with red feathered tips sped +upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved those indifferent wings, +untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to the west beyond the +reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red eagle flew away. + +A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly +stillness of the dawn. The women talked excitedly about the +invulnerable red of the eagle's feathers, while the would-be heroes +sulked within their wigwams. "He-he-he!" groaned the chieftain. + +On the evening of the same day sat a group of hunters around +a bright burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man +whom they spied while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. +They saw the stranger taking aim. Following the point of his arrow +with their eyes, they beheld a herd of buffalo. The arrow sprang +from the bow! It darted into the skull of the foremost buffalo. +But unlike other arrows it pierced through the head of the creature +and spinning in the air lit into the next buffalo head. One by one +the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they were grazing. With +straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides. The young man +stood calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they +dropped dead to the ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither +and picking up his magic arrow wiped it carefully on the soft +grass. He slipped it into his long fringed quiver. + +"He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or +beasts!" cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away. + +They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow. When +the hunter's tale of the stranger's arrow reached the ears of the +chieftain, his face brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet +horsemen, to learn of him his birth, his name, and his deeds. + +"If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the +earth out of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him +kill the red eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself +one of my beautiful daughters," he had said to his messengers, for +the old story of the badger's man-son was known all over the level +lands. + +After four days and nights the braves returned. "He is +coming," they said. "We have seen him. He is straight and tall; +handsome in face, with large black eyes. He paints his round +cheeks with bright red, and wears the penciled lines of red over +his temples like our men of honored rank. He carries on his back +a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic arrow. His bow +is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red eagle." +All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words of +the returned messengers. + +Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the +brown burnt spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was +filled with a new desire. "If only I had the magic arrow, I would +kill the red eagle and win the chieftain's daughter for a wife," +said he in his heart. + +Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in +front of his teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his +drawn-up knees. His keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was +watching for the avenger. + +"'He is coming!' said the people," muttered old Iktomi. All +of a sudden he raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into +the west. The summer sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless +sky. There across the green prairie was a man walking bareheaded +toward the east. + +"Ha! ha! 'tis he! the man with the magic arrow!" laughed +Iktomi. And when the bird with the yellow breast sang loud +again--"Koda Ni Dakota! Friend, you're a Dakota!" Iktomi put his +hand over his mouth as he threw his head far backward, laughing at +both the bird and man. + +"He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! +He is a Dakota, but soon he'll grow into the bark on this tree! +Ha! ha! ha!" he laughed again. + +The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and +nearer toward the lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! +swish! of the stranger's feet through the tall grass. He was +passing now beyond the tree, when Iktomi, springing to his feet, +called out: "How, how, my friend! I see you are dressed in +handsome deerskins and have red paint on your cheeks. You are +going to some feast or dance, may I ask?" Seeing the young man +only smiled Iktomi went on: "I have not had a mouthful of food this +day. Have pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for me!" +With these words Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat a +bird on the highest branch. The young avenger, always ready to +help those in distress, sent an arrow upward and the bird fell. In +the next branch it was caught between the forked prongs. + +"My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb +so high. I would get dizzy and fall," pleaded Iktomi. The avenger +began to scale the tree, when Iktomi cried to him: "My friend, your +beaded buckskins may be torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon +the grass till you are down again." + +"You are right," replied the young man, quickly slipping off +his long fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and +tinkling ornaments, he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the +tree unhindered. Soon from the top he took the bird. "My friend, +toss to me your arrow that I may have the honor of wiping it clean +on soft deerskin!" exclaimed Iktomi. + +"How!" said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the +ground. + +At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the +grass and then on a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words +all the while. The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb, +hearing the low muttering, said: "Iktomi, I cannot hear what you +say!" + +"Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart." + +Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition +of charm words. "Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree," he +whispered. Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly +dropping the arrow and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: "Grow +fast to the bark of the tree!" Before the brave could leap from +the tree he became tight-grown to the bark. + +"Ah! ha!" laughed the bad Iktomi. "I have the magic arrow! +I have the beaded buckskins of the great avenger!" Hooting and +dancing beneath the tree, he said: "I shall kill the red eagle; I +shall wed the chieftain's beautiful daughter!" + + "Oh, Iktomi, set me free!" begged the tree-bound Dakota +brave. But Iktomi's ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did +not hear with them. + +Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic +arrow in his right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the +swaying strides of the avenger, he walked away with a face turned +slightly skyward. + +"Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! +Cut me loose!" moaned the prisoner. + +A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly +bound willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard +the wailing man's voice. She paused to listen to the sad words. +Looking around she saw nowhere a human creature. "It may be a +spirit," thought she. + +"Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! +He has made me bark of his tree!" cried the voice again. + +The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. +With her stone axe she hurried to the tree. There before her +astonished eyes clung a young brave close to the tree. + +Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger +tree-bound, she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she +drew it to the ground. With it came the young man also. Free once +more, he started away. Looking backward, a few paces from the +young woman, he waved his hand, upward and downward, before her +face. This was a sign of gratitude used when words failed to +interpret strong emotion. + +When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a +pony and rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground +in the east, to the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she +carried her story. + + + + + + +SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + + + + + + +SHOOTING OF THE RED EAGLE + + +A MAN in buckskins sat upon the top of a little hillock. The +setting sun shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand. His face +was turned toward the round camp ground at the foot of the hill. +He had walked a long journey hither. He was waiting for the +chieftain's men to spy him. + +Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward +the hillock, where sat the man with the long bow. + +"He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle," cried the +runners to each other as they bent forward swinging their elbows +together. + +They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed +them. Proud and silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams +beneath him. Spreading a handsomely decorated buffalo robe before +the man, two of the warriors lifted him by each shoulder and placed +him gently on it. Then the four men took, each, a corner of the +blanket and carried the stranger, with long proud steps, toward the +chieftain's teepee. + +Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the +entrance way. "How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!" +said he, extending to him a smooth soft hand. + +"How, great chieftain!" replied the man, holding long the +chieftain's hand. Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the +young man to the right side of the doorway, while he sat down +opposite him with a center fire burning between them. Wordless, +like a bashful Indian maid, the avenger ate in silence the food set +before him on the ground in front of his crossed shins. When he +had finished his meal he handed the empty bowl to the chieftain's +wife, saying, "Mother-in-law, here is your dish!" + +"Han, my son!" answered the woman, taking the bowl. + +With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in +the least too presuming in addressing the woman as his mother- +in-law. + +Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket +and soon within the chieftain's teepee he lay fast asleep. + +"The young man is not handsome after all!" whispered the woman +in her husband's ear. + +"Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem +handsome enough!" answered the chieftain. + +That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky +reached the low northern horizon, before the center fires within +the teepees had flickered out. The ringing laughter which had +floated up through the smoke lapels was now hushed, and only the +distant howling of wolves broke the quiet of the village. But the +lull between midnight and dawn was short indeed. Very early the +oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust aside and many brown faces +peered out of the wigwams toward the top of the highest bluff. + +Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger +stood ready within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle. +He appeared, that terrible bird! He hovered over the round village +as if he could pounce down upon it and devour the whole tribe. + +When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers +thrust a hand quickly over their half-uttered "hinnu!" The second +and the third arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red +eagle soaring with lazy indifference over the little man with the +long bow. All his arrows he spent in vain. "Ah! my blanket +brushed my elbow and shifted the course of my arrow!" said the +stranger as the people gathered around him. + +During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at +the chieftain's teepee. It was no other than the young woman who +cut loose the tree-bound captive! + +While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast +face. "I passed him on my way. He is near!" she ended. + +Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the +chieftain snapped fire like red cinders in the night time. His +lips were closed. At length to the woman he said: "How, you have +done me a good deed." Then with quick decision he gave command to +a fleet horseman to meet the avenger. "Clothe him in these my best +buckskins," said he, pointing to a bundle within the wigwam. + +In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi and dragged him by +his long hair to the hilltop. There upon a mock-pillared grave +they bound him hand and feet. Grown-ups and children sneered and +hooted at Iktomi's disgrace. For a half-day he lay there, the +laughing-stock of the people. Upon the arrival of the real +avenger, Iktomi was released and chased away beyond the outer +limits of the camp ground. + +On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of +half-open door-flaps. + +There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in +beaded buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped +arrow. Again the big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. +He plumed his feathers and flapped his huge wings. + +The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow +on the bow, drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle. + +The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, +two, three times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height +and fell heavily to the earth. An arrow stuck in his breast! He +was dead! + +So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that +no one had seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow. + +In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the +avenger, plucking a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, +a loud shout of the people went up to the sky. Then hither and +thither ran singing men and women making a great feast for the +avenger. + +Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of +telling to her children the story of the big red eagle. + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + + + + + + +IKTOMI AND THE TURTLE + + +THE huntsman Patkasa (turtle) stood bent over a newly slain +deer. + +The red-tipped arrow he drew from the wounded deer was unlike +the arrows in his own quiver. Another's stray shot had killed the +deer. Patkasa had hunted all the morning without so much as spying +an ordinary blackbird. + +At last returning homeward, tired and heavy-hearted that he +had no meat for the hungry mouths in his wigwam, he walked slowly +with downcast eyes. Kind ghosts pitied the unhappy hunter and led +him to the newly slain deer, that his children should not cry for +food. + +When Patkasa stumbled upon the deer in his path, he exclaimed: +"Good spirits have pushed me hither!" + +Thus he leaned long over the gift of the friendly ghosts. + +"How, my friend!" said a voice behind his ear, and a hand fell +on his shoulder. It was not a spirit this time. It was old +Iktomi. + +"How, Iktomi!" answered Patkasa, still stooping over the deer. + +"My friend, you are a skilled hunter," began Iktomi, smiling +a thin smile which spread from one ear to the other. + +Suddenly raising up his head Patkasa's black eyes twinkled as +he asked: "Oh, you really say so?" + + "Yes, my friend, you are a skillful fellow. Now let us have +a little contest. Let us see who can jump over the deer without +touching a hair on his hide," suggested Iktomi. + + "Oh, I fear I cannot do it!" cried Patkasa, rubbing his +funny, thick palms together. + + "Have no coward's doubt, Patkasa. I say you are a skillful +fellow who finds nothing hard to do." With these words Iktomi led +Patkasa a short distance away. In little puffs Patkasa laughed +uneasily. + +"Now, you may jump first," said Iktomi. + +Patkasa, with doubled fists, swung his fat arms to and fro, +all the while biting hard his under lip. + +Just before the run and leap Iktomi put in: "Let the winner +have the deer to eat!" + +It was too late now to say no. Patkasa was more afraid of +being called a coward than of losing the deer. "Ho-wo," he +replied, still working his short arms. At length he started off on +the run. So quick and small were his steps that he seemed to be +kicking the ground only. Then the leap! But Patkasa tripped upon +a stick and fell hard against the side of the deer. + +"He-he-he!" exclaimed Iktomi, pretending disappointment that +his friend had fallen. + +Lifting him to his feet, he said: "Now it is my turn to try +the high jump!" Hardly was the last word spoken than Iktomi gave +a leap high above the deer. + +"The game is mine!" laughed he, patting the sullen Patkasa on +the back. "My friend, watch the deer while I go to bring my +children," said Iktomi, darting lightly through the tall grass. + +Patkasa was always ready to believe the words of scheming +people and to do the little favors any one asked of him. However, +on this occasion, he did not answer "Yes, my friend." He realized +that Iktomi's flattering tongue had made him foolish. + +He turned up his nose at Iktomi, now almost out of sight, as +much as to say: "Oh, no, Ikto; I do not hear your words!" + +Soon there came a murmur of voices. The sound of laughter +grew louder and louder. All of a sudden it became hushed. Old +Iktomi led his young Iktomi brood to the place where he had left +the turtle, but it was vacant. Nowhere was there any sign of +Patkasa or the deer. Then the babes did howl! + +"Be still!" said father Iktomi to his children. "I know where +Patkasa lives. Follow me. I shall take you to the turtle's +dwelling." He ran along a narrow footpath toward the creek near +by. Close upon his heels came his children with tear-streaked +faces. + +"There!" said Iktomi in a loud whisper as he gathered his +little ones on the bank. "There is Patkasa broiling venison! +There is his teepee, and the savory fire is in his front yard!" + +The young Iktomis stretched their necks and rolled their round +black eyes like newly hatched birds. They peered into the water. + +"Now, I will cool Patkasa's fire. I shall bring you the +broiled venison. Watch closely. When you see the black coals rise +to the surface of the water, clap your hands and shout aloud, for +soon after that sign I shall return to you with some tender meat." + +Thus saying Iktomi plunged into the creek. Splash! splash! +the water leaped upward into spray. Scarcely had it become leveled +and smooth than there bubbled up many black spots. The creek was +seething with the dancing of round black things. + +"The cooled fire! The coals!" laughed the brood of Iktomis. +Clapping together their little hands, they chased one another along +the edge of the creek. They shouted and hooted with great glee. + +"Ahas!" said a gruff voice across the water. It was Patkasa. +In a large willow tree leaning far over the water he sat upon a +large limb. On the very same branch was a bright burning fire over +which Patkasa broiled the venison. By this time the water was calm +again. No more danced those black spots on its surface, for they +were the toes of old Iktomi. He was drowned. + +The Iktomi children hurried away from the creek, crying and +calling for their water-dead father. + + + + + + +DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + + + + + + +DANCE IN A BUFFALO SKULL + + +IT was night upon the prairie. Overhead the stars were +twinkling bright their red and yellow lights. The moon was young. +A silvery thread among the stars, it soon drifted low beneath the +horizon. + +Upon the ground the land was pitchy black. There are night +people on the plain who love the dark. Amid the black level land +they meet to frolic under the stars. Then when their sharp ears +hear any strange footfalls nigh they scamper away into the deep +shadows of night. There they are safely hid from all dangers, they +think. + +Thus it was that one very black night, afar off from the edge +of the level land, out of the wooded river bottom glided forth two +balls of fire. They came farther and farther into the level land. +They grew larger and brighter. The dark hid the body of the +creature with those fiery eyes. They came on and on, just over the +tops of the prairie grass. It might have been a wildcat prowling +low on soft, stealthy feet. Slowly but surely the terrible eyes +drew nearer and nearer to the heart of the level land. + +There in a huge old buffalo skull was a gay feast and dance! +Tiny little field mice were singing and dancing in a circle to the +boom-boom of a wee, wee drum. They were laughing and talking among +themselves while their chosen singers sang loud a merry tune. + +They built a small open fire within the center of their queer +dance house. The light streamed out of the buffalo skull through +all the curious sockets and holes. + +A light on the plain in the middle of the night was an unusual +thing. But so merry were the mice they did not hear the "king, +king" of sleepy birds, disturbed by the unaccustomed fire. + +A pack of wolves, fearing to come nigh this night fire, stood +together a little distance away, and, turning their pointed noses +to the stars, howled and yelped most dismally. Even the cry of the +wolves was unheeded by the mice within the lighted buffalo skull. + +They were feasting and dancing; they were singing and +laughing--those funny little furry fellows. + +All the while across the dark from out the low river bottom +came that pair of fiery eyes. + +Now closer and more swift, now fiercer and glaring, the eyes +moved toward the buffalo skull. All unconscious of those fearful +eyes, the happy mice nibbled at dried roots and venison. The +singers had started another song. The drummers beat the time, +turning their heads from side to side in rhythm. In a ring around +the fire hopped the mice, each bouncing hard on his two hind feet. +Some carried their tails over their arms, while others trailed them +proudly along. + +Ah, very near are those round yellow eyes! Very low to the +ground they seem to creep--creep toward the buffalo skull. All of +a sudden they slide into the eye-sockets of the old skull. + +"Spirit of the buffalo!" squeaked a frightened mouse as he +jumped out from a hole in the back part of the skull. + +"A cat! a cat!" cried other mice as they scrambled out of +holes both large and snug. Noiseless they ran away into the dark. + + + + + +THE TOAD AND THE BOY + + + + + + +THE TOAD AND THE BOY + + +THE water-fowls were flying over the marshy lakes. It was now +the hunting season. Indian men, with bows and arrows, were wading +waist deep amid the wild rice. Near by, within their wigwams, the +wives were roasting wild duck and making down pillows. + +In the largest teepee sat a young mother wrapping red +porcupine quills about the long fringes of a buckskin cushion. +Beside her lay a black-eyed baby boy cooing and laughing. Reaching +and kicking upward with his tiny hands and feet, he played with the +dangling strings of his heavy-beaded bonnet hanging empty on a tent +pole above him. + +At length the mother laid aside her red quills and white +sinew-threads. The babe fell fast asleep. Leaning on one hand and +softly whispering a little lullaby, she threw a light cover over +her baby. It was almost time for the return of her husband. + +Remembering there were no willow sticks for the fire, she +quickly girdled her blanket tight about her waist, and with a +short-handled ax slipped through her belt, she hurried away toward +the wooded ravine. She was strong and swung an ax as skillfully as +any man. Her loose buckskin dress was made for such freedom. Soon +carrying easily a bundle of long willows on her back, with a loop +of rope over both her shoulders, she came striding homeward. + +Near the entrance way she stooped low, at once shifting the +bundle to the right and with both hands lifting the noose from over +her head. Having thus dropped the wood to the ground, she +disappeared into her teepee. In a moment she came running out +again, crying, "My son! My little son is gone!" Her keen eyes +swept east and west and all around her. There was nowhere any sign +of the child. + +Running with clinched fists to the nearest teepees, she +called: "Has any one seen my baby? He is gone! My little son is +gone!" + +"Hinnu! Hinnu!" exclaimed the women, rising to their feet and +rushing out of their wigwams. + +"We have not seen your child! What has happened?" queried the +women. + +With great tears in her eyes the mother told her story. + +"We will search with you," they said to her as she started +off. + +They met the returning husbands, who turned about and joined +in the hunt for the missing child. Along the shore of the lakes, +among the high-grown reeds, they looked in vain. He was nowhere to +be found. After many days and nights the search was given up. It +was sad, indeed, to hear the mother wailing aloud for her little +son. + +It was growing late in the autumn. The birds were flying high +toward the south. The teepees around the lakes were gone, save one +lonely dwelling. + +Till the winter snow covered the ground and ice covered the +lakes, the wailing woman's voice was heard from that solitary +wigwam. From some far distance was also the sound of the father's +voice singing a sad song. + +Thus ten summers and as many winters have come and gone since +the strange disappearance of the little child. Every autumn with +the hunters came the unhappy parents of the lost baby to search +again for him. + +Toward the latter part of the tenth season when, one by one, +the teepees were folded and the families went away from the lake +region, the mother walked again along the lake shore weeping. One +evening, across the lake from where the crying woman stood, a pair +of bright black eyes peered at her through the tall reeds and wild +rice. A little wild boy stopped his play among the tall grasses. +His long, loose hair hanging down his brown back and shoulders was +carelessly tossed from his round face. He wore a loin cloth of +woven sweet grass. Crouching low to the marshy ground, he listened +to the wailing voice. As the voice grew hoarse and only sobs shook +the slender figure of the woman, the eyes of the wild boy grew dim +and wet. + +At length, when the moaning ceased, he sprang to his feet and +ran like a nymph with swift outstretched toes. He rushed into a +small hut of reeds and grasses. + +"Mother! Mother! Tell me what voice it was I heard which +pleased my ears, but made my eyes grow wet!" said he, breathless. + +"Han, my son," grunted a big, ugly toad. "It was the voice of +a weeping woman you heard. My son, do not say you like it. Do not +tell me it brought tears to your eyes. You have never heard me +weep. I can please your ear and break your heart. Listen!" +replied the great old toad. + +Stepping outside, she stood by the entrance way. She was old +and badly puffed out. She had reared a large family of little +toads, but none of them had aroused her love, nor ever grieved her. +She had heard the wailing human voice and marveled at the throat +which produced the strange sound. Now, in her great desire to keep +the stolen boy awhile longer, she ventured to cry as the Dakota +woman does. In a gruff, coarse voice she broke forth: + +"Hin-hin, doe-skin! Hin-hin, Ermine, Ermine! Hin-hin, red +blanket, with white border!" + +Not knowing that the syllables of a Dakota's cry are the names +of loved ones gone, the ugly toad mother sought to please the boy's +ear with the names of valuable articles. Having shrieked in a +torturing voice and mouthed extravagant names, the old toad rolled +her tearless eyes with great satisfaction. Hopping back into her +dwelling, she asked: + + "My son, did my voice bring tears to your eyes? Did my words +bring gladness to your ears? Do you not like my wailing better?" + +"No, no!" pouted the boy with some impatience. "I want to +hear the woman's voice! Tell me, mother, why the human voice stirs +all my feelings!" + +The toad mother said within her breast, "The human child has +heard and seen his real mother. I cannot keep him longer, I fear. +Oh, no, I cannot give away the pretty creature I have taught to +call me 'mother' all these many winters." + + "Mother," went on the child voice, "tell me one thing. Tell +me why my little brothers and sisters are all unlike me." + +The big, ugly toad, looking at her pudgy children, said: "The +eldest is always best." + +This reply quieted the boy for a while. Very closely watched +the old toad mother her stolen human son. When by chance he +started off alone, she shoved out one of her own children after +him, saying: "Do not come back without your big brother." + +Thus the wild boy with the long, loose hair sits every day on +a marshy island hid among the tall reeds. But he is not alone. +Always at his feet hops a little toad brother. One day an Indian +hunter, wading in the deep waters, spied the boy. He had heard +of the baby stolen long ago. + +"This is he!" murmured the hunter to himself as he ran to his +wigwam. "I saw among the tall reeds a black-haired boy at play!" +shouted he to the people. + +At once the unhappy father and mother cried out, "'Tis he, our +boy!" Quickly he led them to the lake. Peeping through the wild +rice, he pointed with unsteady finger toward the boy playing all +unawares. + +"'Tis he! 'tis he!" cried the mother, for she knew him. + +In silence the hunter stood aside, while the happy father and +mother caressed their baby boy grown tall. + + + + + + + +IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + + + + + + + +IYA, THE CAMP-EATER + + +FROM the tall grass came the voice of a crying babe. The +huntsmen who were passing nigh heard and halted. + +The tallest one among them hastened toward the high grass with +long, cautious strides. He waded through the growth of green with +just a head above it all. Suddenly exclaiming "Hunhe!" he dropped +out of sight. In another instant he held up in both his hands a +tiny little baby, wrapped in soft brown buckskins. + +"Oh ho, a wood-child!" cried the men, for they were hunting +along the wooded river bottom where this babe was found. + +While the hunters were questioning whether or no they should +carry it home, the wee Indian baby kept up his little howl. + +"His voice is strong!" said one. + +"At times it sounds like an old man's voice!" whispered a +superstitious fellow, who feared some bad spirit hid in the small +child to cheat them by and by. + +"Let us take it to our wise chieftain," at length they said; +and the moment they started toward the camp ground the strange +wood-child ceased to cry. + +Beside the chieftain's teepee waited the hunters while the +tall man entered with the child. + +"How! how!" nodded the kind-faced chieftain, listening to the +queer story. Then rising, he took the infant in his strong arms; +gently he laid the black-eyed babe in his daughter's lap. "This is +to be your little son!" said he, smiling. + +"Yes, father," she replied. Pleased with the child, she +smoothed the long black hair fringing his round brown face. + + "Tell the people that I give a feast and dance this day for +the naming of my daughter's little son," bade the chieftain. + +In the meanwhile among the men waiting by the entrance way, +one said in a low voice: "I have heard that bad spirits come as +little children into a camp which they mean to destroy." + +"No! no! Let us not be overcautious. It would be cowardly to +leave a baby in the wild wood where prowl the hungry wolves!" +answered an elderly man. + +The tall man now came out of the chieftain's teepee. With a +word he sent them to their dwellings half running with joy. + +"A feast! a dance for the naming of the chieftain's +grandchild!" cried he in a loud voice to the village people. + +"What? what?" asked they in great surprise, holding a hand to +the ear to catch the words of the crier. + +There was a momentary silence among the people while they +listened to the ringing voice of the man walking in the center +ground. Then broke forth a rippling, laughing babble among the +cone-shaped teepees. All were glad to hear of the chieftain's +grandson. They were happy to attend the feast and dance for its +naming. With excited fingers they twisted their hair into glossy +braids and painted their cheeks with bright red paint. To and fro +hurried the women, handsome in their gala-day dress. Men in loose +deerskins, with long tinkling metal fringes, strode in small +numbers toward the center of the round camp ground. + +Here underneath a temporary shade-house of green leaves they +were to dance and feast. The children in deerskins and paints, +just like their elders, were jolly little men and women. Beside +their eager parents they skipped along toward the green dance +house. + +Here seated in a large circle, the people were assembled, the +proud chieftain rose with the little baby in his arms. The noisy +hum of voices was hushed. Not a tinkling of a metal fringe broke +the silence. The crier came forward to greet the chieftain, then +bent attentively over the small babe, listening to the words of the +chieftain. When he paused the crier spoke aloud to the people: + +"This woodland child is adopted by the chieftain's eldest +daughter. His name is Chaske. He wears the title of the eldest +son. In honor of Chaske the chieftain gives this feast and dance! +These are the words of him you see holding a baby in his arms." + +"Yes! Yes! Hinnu! How!" came from the circle. At once the +drummers beat softly and slowly their drum while the chosen singers +hummed together to find the common pitch. The beat of the drum +grew louder and faster. The singers burst forth in a lively tune. +Then the drumbeats subsided and faintly marked the rhythm of the +singing. Here and there bounced up men and women, both young +and old. They danced and sang with merry light hearts. Then came +the hour of feasting. + +Late into the night the air of the camp ground was alive with +the laughing voices of women and the singing in unison of young +men. Within her father's teepee sat the chieftain's daughter. +Proud of her little one, she watched over him asleep in her lap. + +Gradually a deep quiet stole over the camp ground, as one by +one the people fell into pleasant dreams. Now all the village was +still. Alone sat the beautiful young mother watching the babe in +her lap, asleep with a gaping little mouth. Amid the quiet of the +night, her ear heard the far-off hum of many voices. The faint +sound of murmuring people was in the air. Upward she glanced at +the smoke hole of the wigwam and saw a bright star peeping down +upon her. "Spirits in the air above?" she wondered. Yet there was +no sign to tell her of their nearness. The fine small sound of +voices grew larger and nearer. + +"Father! rise! I hear the coming of some tribe. Hostile or +friendly--I cannot tell. Rise and see!" whispered the young woman. + +"Yes, my daughter!" answered the chieftain, springing to his +feet. + +Though asleep, his ear was ever alert. Thus rushing out into +the open, he listened for strange sounds. With an eagle eye he +scanned the camp ground for some sign. + +Returning he said: "My daughter, I hear nothing and see no +sign of evil nigh." + +"Oh! the sound of many voices comes up from the earth about +me!" exclaimed the young mother. + +Bending low over her babe she gave ear to the ground. +Horrified was she to find the mysterious sound came out of the open +mouth of her sleeping child! + +"Why so unlike other babes!" she cried within her heart as she +slipped him gently from her lap to the ground. "Mother, listen and +tell me if this child is an evil spirit come to destroy our camp!" +she whispered loud. + +Placing an ear close to the open baby mouth, the chieftain and +his wife, each in turn heard the voices of a great camp. The +singing of men and women, the beating of the drum, the rattling of +deer-hoofs strung like bells on a string, these were the sounds +they heard. + +"We must go away," said the chieftain, leading them into the +night. Out in the open he whispered to the frightened young woman: +"Iya, the camp-eater, has come in the guise of a babe. Had you +gone to sleep, he would have jumped out into his own shape and +would have devoured our camp. He is a giant with spindling legs. +He cannot fight, for he cannot run. He is powerful only in the +night with his tricks. We are safe as soon as day breaks." Then +moving closer to the woman, he whispered: "If he wakes now, he will +swallow the whole tribe with one hideous gulp! Come, we must flee +with our people." + +Thus creeping from teepee to teepee a secret alarm signal was +given. At midnight the teepees were gone and there was left no +sign of the village save heaps of dead ashes. So quietly had the +people folded their wigwams and bundled their tent poles that they +slipped away unheard by the sleeping Iya babe. + +When the morning sun arose, the babe awoke. Seeing himself +deserted, he threw off his baby form in a hot rage. + +Wearing his own ugly shape, his huge body toppled to and fro, +from side to side, on a pair of thin legs far too small for their +burden. Though with every move he came dangerously nigh to +falling, he followed in the trail of the fleeing people. + +"I shall eat you in the sight of a noon-day sun!" cried Iya in +his vain rage, when he spied them encamped beyond a river. + +By some unknown cunning he swam the river and sought his way +toward the teepees. + +"Hin! hin!" he grunted and growled. With perspiration beading +his brow he strove to wiggle his slender legs beneath his giant +form. + +"Ha! ha!" laughed all the village people to see Iya made +foolish with anger. "Such spindle legs cannot stand to fight by +daylight!" shouted the brave ones who were terror-struck the night +before by the name "Iya." + +Warriors with long knives rushed forth and slew the +camp-eater. + +Lo! there rose out of the giant a whole Indian tribe: their +camp ground, their teepees in a large circle, and the people +laughing and dancing. + +"We are glad to be free!" said these strange people. + +Thus Iya was killed; and no more are the camp grounds in +danger of being swallowed up in a single night time. + + + + + + + +MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + + + + + + + +MANSTIN, THE RABBIT + + +MANSTIN was an adventurous brave, but very kind-hearted. +Stamping a moccasined foot as he drew on his buckskin leggins, he +said: "Grandmother, beware of Iktomi! Do not let him lure you into +some cunning trap. I am going to the North country on a long +hunt." + +With these words of caution to the bent old rabbit grandmother +with whom he had lived since he was a tiny babe, Manstin started +off toward the north. He was scarce over the great high hills when +he heard the shrieking of a human child. + +"Wan!" he ejaculated, pointing his long ears toward the +direction of the sound; "Wan! that is the work of cruel +Double-Face. Shameless coward! he delights in torturing helpless +creatures!" + +Muttering indistinct words, Manstin ran up the last hill and +lo! in the ravine beyond stood the terrible monster with a face in +front and one in the back of his head! + +This brown giant was without clothes save for a wild-cat-skin +about his loins. With a wicked gleaming eye, he watched the little +black-haired baby he held in his strong arm. In a laughing voice +he hummed an Indian mother's lullaby, "A-boo! Aboo!" and at the +same time he switched the naked baby with a thorny wild-rose bush. + +Quickly Manstin jumped behind a large sage bush on the brow of +the hill. He bent his bow and the sinewy string twanged. Now an +arrow stuck above the ear of Double-Face. It was a poisoned arrow, +and the giant fell dead. Then Manstin took the little brown baby +and hurried away from the ravine. Soon he came to a teepee from +whence loud wailing voices broke. It was the teepee of the stolen +baby and the mourners were its heart-broken parents. + +When gallant Manstin returned the child to the eager arms of +the mother there came a sudden terror into the eyes of both the +Dakotas. They feared lest it was Double-Face come in a new guise +to torture them. The rabbit understood their fear and said: "I am +Manstin, the kind-hearted,--Manstin, the noted huntsman. I am your +friend. Do not fear." + +That night a strange thing happened. While the father and +mother slept, Manstin took the wee baby. With his feet placed +gently yet firmly upon the tiny toes of the little child, he drew +upward by each small hand the sleeping child till he was a full- +grown man. With a forefinger he traced a slit in the upper lip; +and when on the morrow the man and woman awoke they could not +distinguish their own son from Manstin, so much alike were the +braves. + +"Henceforth we are friends, to help each other," said Manstin, +shaking a right hand in farewell. "The earth is our common ear, to +carry from its uttermost extremes one's slightest wish for the +other!" + +"Ho! Be it so!" answered the newly made man. + +Upon leaving his friend, Manstin hurried away toward the North +country whither he was bound for a long hunt. Suddenly he came +upon the edge of a wide brook. His alert eye caught sight of a +rawhide rope staked to the water's brink, which led away toward a +small round hut in the distance. The ground was trodden into a +deep groove beneath the loosely drawn rawhide rope. + +"Hun-he!" exclaimed Manstin, bending over the freshly made +footprints in the moist bank of the brook. "A man's footprints!" +he said to himself. "A blind man lives in yonder hut! This rope +is his guide by which he comes for his daily water!" surmised +Manstin, who knew all the peculiar contrivances of the people. At +once his eyes became fixed upon the solitary dwelling and hither he +followed his curiosity,--a real blind man's rope. + +Quietly he lifted the door-flap and entered in. An old +toothless grandfather, blind and shaky with age, sat upon the +ground. He was not deaf however. He heard the entrance and felt +the presence of some stranger. + +"How, grandchild," he mumbled, for he was old enough to be +grandparent to every living thing, "how! I cannot see you. Pray, +speak your name!" + +"Grandfather, I am Manstin," answered the rabbit, all the +while looking with curious eyes about the wigwam. + +"Grandfather, what is it so tightly packed in all these +buckskin bags placed against the tent poles?" he asked. + +"My grandchild, those are dried buffalo meat and venison. +These are magic bags which never grow empty. I am blind and cannot +go on a hunt. Hence a kind Maker has given me these magic bags of +choicest foods." + +Then the old, bent man pulled at a rope which lay by his right +hand. "This leads me to the brook where I drink! and this," said +he, turning to the one on his left, "and this takes me into the +forest, where I feel about for dry sticks for my fire." + +"Grandfather, I wish I lived in such sure luxury! I would +lean back against a tent pole, and with crossed feet I would smoke +sweet willow bark the rest of my days," sighed Manstin. + +"My grandchild, your eyes are your luxury! you would be +unhappy without them!" the old man replied. + +"Grandfather, I would give you my two eyes for your place!" +cried Manstin. + +"How! you have said it. Arise. Take out your eyes and give +them to me. Henceforth you are at home here in my stead." + +At once Manstin took out both his eyes and the old man put +them on! Rejoicing, the old grandfather started away with his +young eyes while the blind rabbit filled his dream pipe, leaning +lazily against the tent pole. For a short time it was a most +pleasant pastime to smoke willow bark and to eat from the magic +bags. + +Manstin grew thirsty, but there was no water in the small +dwelling. Taking one of the rawhide ropes he started toward the +brook to quench his thirst. He was young and unwilling to trudge +slowly in the old man's footpath. He was full of glee, for it had +been many long moons since he had tasted such good food. Thus he +skipped confidently along jerking the old weather-eaten rawhide +spasmodically till all of a sudden it gave way and Manstin fell +headlong into the water. + + "En! En!" he grunted kicking frantically amid stream. All +along the slippery bank he vainly tried to climb, till at last he +chanced upon the old stake and the deeply worn footpath. Exhausted +and inwardly disgusted with his mishaps, he crawled more cautiously +on all fours to his wigwam door. Dripping with his recent plunge +he sat with chattering teeth within his unfired wigwam. + +The sun had set and the night air was chilly, but there was no +fire-wood in the dwelling. "Hin!" murmured Manstin and bravely +tried the other rope. "I go for some fire-wood!" he said, +following the rawhide rope which led into the forest. Soon he +stumbled upon thickly strewn dry willow sticks. Eagerly with both +hands he gathered the wood into his outspread blanket. Manstin was +naturally an energetic fellow. + +When he had a large heap, he tied two opposite ends of blanket +together and lifted the bundle of wood upon his back, but alas! he +had unconsciously dropped the end of the rope and now he was lost +in the wood! + +"Hin! hin!" he groaned. Then pausing a moment, he set his +fan-like ears to catch any sound of approaching footsteps. There +was none. Not even a night bird twittered to help him out of his +predicament. + +With a bold face, he made a start at random. + +He fell into some tangled wood where he was held fast. +Manstin let go his bundle and began to lament having given away +his two eyes. + +"Friend, my friend, I have need of you! The old oak tree +grandfather has gone off with my eyes and I am lost in the woods!" +he cried with his lips close to the earth. + +Scarcely had he spoken when the sound of voices was audible on +the outer edge of the forest. Nearer and louder grew the +voices--one was the clear flute tones of a young brave and the +other the tremulous squeaks of an old grandfather. + +It was Manstin's friend with the Earth Ear and the old +grandfather. "Here Manstin, take back your eyes," said the old +man, "I knew you would not be content in my stead, but I wanted you +to learn your lesson. I have had pleasure seeing with your eyes +and trying your bow and arrows, but since I am old and feeble I +much prefer my own teepee and my magic bags!" + +Thus talking the three returned to the hut. The old +grandfather crept into his wigwam, which is often mistaken for a +mere oak tree by little Indian girls and boys. + +Manstin, with his own bright eyes fitted into his head again, +went on happily to hunt in the North country. + + + + + + + +THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + + + + + + +THE WARLIKE SEVEN + + +ONCE seven people went out to make war,--the Ashes, the Fire, +the Bladder, the Grasshopper, the Dragon Fly, the Fish, and the +Turtle. As they were talking excitedly, waving their fists in +violent gestures, a wind came and blew the Ashes away. "Ho!" cried +the others, "he could not fight, this one!" + +The six went on running to make war more quickly. They +descended a deep valley, the Fire going foremost until they came to +a river. The Fire said "Hsss--tchu!" and was gone. "Ho!" hooted +the others, "he could not fight, this one!" + +Therefore the five went on the more quickly to make war. They +came to a great wood. While they were going through it, the +Bladder was heard to sneer and to say, "He! you should rise above +these, brothers." With these words he went upward among the +tree-tops; and the thorn apple pricked him. He fell through the +branches and was nothing! "You see this!" said the four, "this one +could not fight." + +Still the remaining warriors would not turn back. The four +went boldly on to make war. The Grasshopper with his cousin, the +Dragon Fly, went foremost. They reached a marshy place, and the +mire was very deep. As they waded through the mud, the +Grasshopper's legs stuck, and he pulled them off! He crawled upon +a log and wept, "You see me, brothers, I cannot go!" + +The Dragon Fly went on, weeping for his cousin. He would not +be comforted, for he loved his cousin dearly. The more he grieved, +the louder he cried, till his body shook with great violence. He +blew his red swollen nose with a loud noise so that his head came +off his slender neck, and he was fallen upon the grass. + +"You see how it is, said the Fish, lashing his tail +impatiently, "these people were not warriors!" "Come!" he said, +"let us go on to make war." + +Thus the Fish and the Turtle came to a large camp ground. + +"Ho!" exclaimed the people of this round village of teepees, +"Who are these little ones? What do they seek?" + +Neither of the warriors carried weapons with them, and their +unimposing stature misled the curious people. + +The Fish was spokesman. With a peculiar omission of +syllables, he said: "Shu . . . hi pi!" + + "Wan! what? what?" clamored eager voices of men and women. + +Again the Fish said: "Shu . . . hi pi!" Everywhere stood +young and old with a palm to an ear. Still no one guessed what +the Fish had mumbled! + +From the bewildered crowd witty old Iktomi came forward. "He, +listen!" he shouted, rubbing his mischievous palms together, for +where there was any trouble brewing, he was always in the midst of +it. + +"This little strange man says, 'Zuya unhipi! We come to make +war!'" + +"Uun!" resented the people, suddenly stricken glum. "Let us +kill the silly pair! They can do nothing! They do not know the +meaning of the phrase. Let us build a fire and boil them both!" + + "If you put us on to boil," said the Fish, "there will be +trouble." + +"Ho ho!" laughed the village folk. "We shall see." + +And so they made a fire. + +"I have never been so angered!" said the Fish. The Turtle in +a whispered reply said: "We shall die!" + +When a pair of strong hands lifted the Fish over the +sputtering water, he put his mouth downward. "Whssh!" he said. He +blew the water all over the people, so that many were burned and +could not see. Screaming with pain, they ran away. + +"Oh, what shall we do with these dreadful ones?" they said. + +Others exclaimed: "Let us carry them to the lake of muddy +water and drown them!" + +Instantly they ran with them. They threw the Fish and the +Turtle into the lake. Toward the center of the large lake the +Turtle dived. There he peeped up out of the water and, waving a +hand at the crowd, sang out, "This is where I live!" + +The Fish swam hither and thither with such frolicsome darts +that his back fin made the water fly. "E han!" whooped the Fish, +"this is where I live!" + +"Oh, what have we done!" said the frightened people, "this +will be our undoing." + +Then a wise chief said: "Iya, the Eater, shall come and +swallow the lake!" + +So one went running. He brought Iya, the Eater; and Iya drank +all day at the lake till his belly was like the earth. Then the +Fish and the Turtle dived into the mud; and Iya said: "They are not +in me." Hearing this the people cried greatly. + +Iktomi wading in the lake had been swallowed like a gnat in +the water. Within the great Iya he was looking skyward. So deep +was the water in the Eater's stomach that the surface of the +swallowed lake almost touched the sky. + +"I will go that way," said Iktomi, looking at the concave +within arm's reach. + +He struck his knife upward in the Eater's stomach, and the +water falling out drowned those people of the village. + +Now when the great water fell into its own bed, the Fish and +the Turtle came to the shore. They went home painted victors and +loud-voiced singers. + + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Old Indian Legends by Zitkala-Sa + + + + diff --git a/old/indle10.zip b/old/indle10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..58b418f --- /dev/null +++ b/old/indle10.zip |