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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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