As the home where Sagastao and Minnehaha lived was near a trail along which numbers of Indian hunters were accustomed to travel when on their way to the trading post with their furs, they frequently called in to see their loved friends the palefaces. These hunters were always welcome, and as they were very seldom in a hurry the children drew from them many a quaint Indian legend or story of animal life.
It was also a great pleasure for the children to have the hunters, returning from a successful trip, open their fur packs and spread out before them the rich furs and tell them stories about these animals—the silver fox, the otter, beavers, minks, martens, ermines, and sometimes even about great bears and wolves, whose skin they had often had. These valuable furs were generally well dressed and prepared for shipment by the industrious women before they were taken to the trading post. Sometimes, however, a hunter when on the trail to the trading post would find in one of his traps an animal just caught, and not having time to return to his wigwam and have the skin dressed and dried he would carry the animal just as it was and sell it to the fur traders.
One day there called a number of Indians, and among them was a hunter with a couple of martens which he had caught in his trap that very morning. Sagastao and Minnehaha had never seen these little animals before, and they handled them with much interest and asked several questions about them.
"Why has the marten that queer white spot on its throat?" asked Minnehaha.
The Indians looked at each other and a grim smile flitted over their bronzed faces when they heard this question.
Their conduct only the more excited the curiosity of the children and they both clamored for the answer. Then one of the Indians said:
"Ask Mary; she knows all about the story, and as a woman was in the affair she can tell it better than we can."
With this answer the children had to be content, for the hunters, having drank their cups of tea, soon took their departure.
When the children found Mary they at once demanded the story.
"What story?" said Mary.
"O, you know what we want, for you were in the kitchen and heard what was said."
Wigwams and Indians.
But Mary still protested her ignorance, and declared that she had been so busy caring for Souwanaquenapeke that she had not listened to half the chatter that had passed between them and the Indians.
"O, I know you, sakehow Mary," said Sagastao. "You don't want to tell us because there was a woman like yourself mixed up in it."
Mary bridled up with indignation, but before she could utter a word the arms of Sagastao were around her neck, and he cried:
"Forgive me, sakehou! for speaking so foolishly. I do remember now that you had left the kitchen with baby before Minnehaha asked the question."
This prompt apology and the sweet word "sakehow" restored harmony, and Mary was now anxious to please them.
"What was the question which interested you?" asked Mary.
"Why has the marten that queer white spot on its throat?" asked Minnehaha.
"And the men told us to go to you because there was a woman in it," added Sagastao.
Mary smiled when she heard this.
"Yes," she said, "there was a foolish woman mixed up in the story. It was like this, as far as I can remember, and it is a story from the North people. Long ago a man had a wife who was a very proud, vain woman. She was not contented with having her husband and her own people saying nice things about her, but she wanted to be flattered and admired by every creature. You know that I have told you that, in old times, animals could talk and do many things. Well, this conceited woman, with her silly foolish way, began attracting the different animals around her. Almost everybody was laughing at her, but she seemed to think it great fun to have so many admirers. She got a lesson one day when flirting with the bear. They were walking along together and she let him put his arm around her, but he gave her such a hug that he broke two of her ribs. She was a long time getting well and then her husband gave her a great lecturing. You would have thought that this would have cured her, but not a bit of it. When she was well again she was just as silly as ever, though she took good care not to flirt with any animal that could hug like a bear. She next bewitched the skunk with her foolishness. But one day, as they walked together, a dog suddenly attacked the skunk and in his anger and excitement he so perfumed the woman, instead of the dog, with his odor that her husband found her out and gave her a beating.
"Everybody was now laughing at her on account of her silly ways, and as her husband had persons employed to see what creatures she went out walking with she had to remain at home in her wigwam. But when a woman gets proud and conceited and carries on like this one did she is hard to cure. The fact was, her husband was too kind to her. He did not give her plenty of work to keep her busy and out of mischief. Instead of making her chop the wood and carry the water, and do other hard things, he did it for her, for he was very proud of her and she was indeed a beautiful woman. He did, however, make her stay in their wigwam instead of allowing her to go about wherever she liked.
"She spent most of her time in fixing herself up in her beautiful clothes and thinking what a lovely creature she was. But she soon missed the flattery of her admirers and resolved that, in spite of her husband, she would try to hear it again. So vigilant, however, were her husband and his friends that they were too clever for her.
"One day her husband returned from hunting and visiting his traps and snares. Among other animals that he had trapped was a beautiful marten. He had caught it in what is called a dead-fall; that is, where a log is so arranged that when the animal reaches the bait he is directly under the log, which falls upon him the instant he pulls the bait.
"When the woman took up the marten which her husband had thrown at her feet she noticed that it was still quite warm, but she said nothing about it to her husband, who, picking up an ax and blanket, said that he was going off to visit his more distant traps and would not be back for some days. Before he left he made her promise that she would not leave the wigwam until his return.
"The woman, as soon as she was sure that her husband was really gone, picked up the marten. On examining it she was convinced that it was not dead, only knocked senseless by the falling log, so she rubbed it, and breathed into its nostrils, and then with a reed blew air into its lungs.
"Sure enough, the life was in it, and the first sign it gave was a big sneeze or two. At this the woman wrapped it up in a warm covering and held it until it was well again. The marten, of course, was very much frightened when it found itself in the hands of a woman. It was about to struggle to get free, when the woman spoke to it in its own language. At this it was very much surprised, and more so when the woman told it how she had given it back its life, and that now in return it must do what she desired.
"Any animal or human being would be willing to promise as much when its life had been thus restored to it.
"'I will do anything I can for you,' said the marten.
"'I want you to go to your king marten,' said the woman, 'and tell him that a beautiful lady has heard so many wonderful things about him that she is very anxious to have a visit from him.'
"This the marten promised to do, and it was not very long before the king marten came. Of course he had to be very cautious, as he had been warned of the many who were watching the silly woman.
"Hardly, however, had he time to say much to her before the footsteps of her husband were heard outside. The instant he opened the door of the wigwam the king marten ran out, and disappeared in the forest.
"'What was that?' asked the husband.
"'O, dear, that was the marten you trapped. It must have come to life and escaped,' said the woman, who thus cleverly saved herself and the king marten.
"The man was suspicious, but as the marten which he had trapped was not to be found he could not find fault with her, except to say that she ought to have skinned the marten soon after he had brought it in.
"The king marten, who was a very conceited fellow, had been quite struck with the beauty of the woman, and so, in spite of his narrow escape, he resolved to go and see her again. By watching her husband's departure he managed to have several brief visits, and at length became so infatuated with her that he tried to coax her to run away with him.
"When she heard this she was very angry, for, with all her foolishness, she had only acted as she did because of her vanity and love of flattery. Now that the marten had dared make such a request she resolved that he should be punished; so one day, when he was sitting beside her and saying a lot of foolish flattery, she heard the footsteps of her husband approaching, but did not warn the king marten.
"So the man thus caught the old marten sitting by the side of his wife. At this he was much annoyed, and as the marten suddenly ran out the man asked the woman what it meant. So she told him all that the marten had said, and of his impertinence in asking her to leave him and become the marten's wife. At this the man was very indignant, and so they arranged to punish the marten.
"The next time the man went off he told his wife to fill the kettle with water and put it on the fire to boil. Then the man took his traps and started off as though he were going on a long journey. But he only went a little way, just far enough to throw the marten off his guard, and, sure enough, while he was watching he saw the marten go into the wigwam.
"Then the man came quietly to the door and listened. He heard the marten urging his wife to leave and run away with him. Then he suddenly sprang into the tent and shouted out:
"'Old king marten, what are you doing here? How dare you talk to my wife?'
"So saying, the man seized the kettle of boiling water and threw its contents at the marten, severely scalding him. The marten tore at his burning breast as he dashed away into the woods. And from that day to this all martens have that whitish spot on their chests caused by that burn."
"What became of the woman?" said Sagastao.
"Never mind now. We have wasted too much time already on such a good-for-nothing conceited flirt," said Mary.
Nothing gave the children greater pleasure than to have the Indians take them in their canoes for a couple of hours' trip on the bright waters of the beautiful lake that spread out before their home.
These pleasant outings were sometimes rendered exciting and doubly interesting by the sight of a black bear or a deer wandering on the shore or swimming from some point on the island. At other times there would be numbers of loons, or great Northern divers, as they are generally called. Their wonderful quickness in diving, then the length of time that they could remain under the water and the great distance they would swim before coming to the surface were watched with great interest by both Sagastao and Minnehaha.
The Indians did not often hunt loons. In fact they found it so difficult to shoot one that more than its value in ammunition was generally expended in the attempt. The Indians always declared that these clever birds could see the flash of their guns and dive down out of danger before the shot reached them.
However, as some of them were desired for their beautiful feather-covered skins, which make most valuable and beautiful caps and muffs, it was decided that Souwanas and Kennedy should take the missionary's breech-loading rifle, in addition to their own guns, and try to secure a few.
The children begged to be allowed to accompany them, and as the day was unusually fine and the lake almost without a ripple they were given a holiday and allowed the privilege of an all-day outing with these two trusty and experienced men.
A generous lunch, with the indispensable tea kettle, was placed in the canoe by careful Mary, who, as usual, was angry that the children were to be so long under the witchery of old Souwanas.
With the merry shouts of laughter from the children as their accompaniment the two Indians skillfully plied their paddles, and it was not long before they were some miles distant and on the lookout for loons. It often happens that the things desired are the last to come. So it was this day. Wild ducks in goodly numbers, and even geese and some swans and pelicans were frequently seen. At length, however, strange, mournful sounds far ahead were heard, and the experienced Indians knew that the birds for which they were looking were not far away. Still it was some time before the first long white neck and black head were seen in the distance, for the cry of the loon not only differs from that of any other bird, but is very far-reaching.
The excited children were now told to be very still and keep quiet, using their eyes alone, and witness the contest between man's skill and the birds' cleverness.
So accustomed have some old loons become to being fired at and missed by Indians using the old-fashioned flintlock shotgun, which makes such a flash when fired, that they just barely keep out of range. The instant they see the fire flash—down they go, and then as the shot or bullet strikes the place where they were they bob up again serenely in the same spot, or in one not very far distant. This risky sport some of them will keep up for hours, or until the disheartened hunters have wasted nearly all their ammunition.
To-day, however, there was to be a new weapon tried against them, and, alas for them, they were sadly worsted. Kennedy first loaded his old flintlock shotgun and blazed away, but, as usual, they were out of sight under the water before the shot struck the place where the loons had been.
For a time the loons were shy, and swam quite a distance away. But after a while, as they found that Kennedy's gunshots could be dodged, they did not bother to swim very far away. This was just what Souwanas was waiting for. He now took up the rifle, and as soon as a loon came to the surface he fired from this new weapon, that gave no flash to warn the poor bird of the deadly bullet that was so rapidly speeding on its way. Thus it happened that loon after loon was struck and several beautiful birds were secured—greatly to the sorrow of the children, who delighted in watching their clever diving and sudden reappearance after Kennedy discharged his old gun. Out of deference to their feelings the Indians soon ceased shooting, although with this new rifle they could easily have secured many more.
"Let us now go ashore, on one of these islands," said Sagastao, "and have our lunch."
"And a Nanahboozhoo story after," put in Minnehaha.
This plan was just what the Indians were thinking about, and so in a short time they were all on the shore. Dry wood was abundant and a bright fire was soon burning, and then, when the water was boiled and the tea made, the lunch basket was opened and the meal was much enjoyed by all.
"Now, Souwanas," said Minnehaha, "we are all ready for the story at the same time, and if your pipe goes out I'll hand you a burning stick with which you can light it again."
"Maybe I will keep you very busy," remarked the old man, much amused at the offer—and so it proved, for his pipe to-day persisted in going out.
"One day," began Souwanas, "as Nanahboozhoo was walking along the shore of a lake he became hungry. He considered what it would be best for him to do in order to procure something to eat. He decided to deceive the waterfowls. He saw a duck swimming along near the shore and spoke to the bird in this fashion:
"'Come here, my brother.'
"'What is it?' said the duck, as it approached Nanahboozhoo.
"'Kesha Munedoo (Gracious Spirit) has revealed words to me to tell to all the waterfowl some very important things. Go and tell all sorts of waterfowl to come, and when they are all together I will inform you what has been revealed to me.'
"The duck obeyed Nanahboozhoo, who in the meantime made a very bare wigwam of green boughs, or rather caused it to appear that he did, for he did not exert much labor upon it. All sorts of waterfowl came to Nanahboozhoo and they seemed anxious to hear what had been revealed. Nanahboozhoo received them with great apparent friendliness and invited them to come into the wigwam. When they had all entered, he said:
"'You must all dance, first, before I tell you what has been revealed to me. All of you must stand close together around inside of the wigwam and put your necks close together while dancing, and all of you must flap your wings at the same time.'
"Then Nanahboozhoo commenced singing:
"'Pau-zau-gwa-be-she-moog,Ke-ku-ma-mis-kwa-she-gun.'
("'Shut your eyes,And I'll make you wise.')
"These words Nanahboozhoo repeated three times.
"All the fowl kept time to the music and words of the song, and danced, shutting their eyes. Nanahboozhoo continued singing, changing to the following words:
"'Au-yun-ze-kwa-gau.'
"All the time such was Nanahboozhoo's power over the birds that they kept singing and dancing and at the same time holding their heads close together. Nanahboozhoo's voice was singing in the center of the tent, his drum beating at the same time, while he in person went around in the wigwam or lodge wringing the necks of the waterfowl and throwing them on the side of the lodge. The loon, the great diver bird, was dancing on the open door side of the lodge. He suspected that Nanahboozhoo was up to some of his tricks, doing something bad, so he opened his eyes and saw. At once he gave the alarm, and shouted:
"'Nanahboozhoo is killing us!'
"All the fowl that were still alive when they heard these words at once flew out at the top opening of the lodge, except the loon, or diver, and he being at the door turned and ran out of the lodge as fast as he could toward the shore of the lake.
"Nanahboozhoo was so angry at him for daring to open his eyes, and then for warning the others, enabling many of them to get away, that he ran after him and stamped upon him as he had just reached the shore. Hence it is, because of Nanahboozhoo's cruelty, that the loon has had a flat back and red eyes, and its feet are so unlike those of any other waterfowl.
"When Nanahboozhoo had made a large fire he took the waterfowls he had killed before the diver gave the alarm, and covered them under the ashes, leaving only their feet sticking out. While he was waiting for them to cook he felt very sleepy, so he lay down to rest.
"But before he went to sleep he said, 'My face side has always done all the watching. This is not fair. I will make my back do its share of the watching.'
"So, as he cuddled down to have a sleep before the fire, he said to his back:
"'Now, you do the watching, you lazy, broad back, while I am sleeping.' Then, being very tired, he fell into a heavy sleep.
"After a time the watcher called out:
"'Nanahboozhoo! Indians are coming!'
"Nanahboozhoo slightly raised himself, but he saw no Indians, so he lay down to sleep again.
"But again and yet again, for three times, did his faithful watcher call and warn him against his approaching enemies. Nanahboozhoo was now so stupid with sleep that he only aroused himself a little, not enough to enable him to detect the lurking enemy. So he became very angry with his watcher, his broad back, and gave it a great thrashing, saying:
"'There! take that, you great stupid watcher, for so disturbing me with your false reports!'
"Then Nanahboozhoo fell asleep again. The broad back was very much offended at the treatment he had received, for he knew he was right, and now, though the Indians were close at hand, he did not again warn Nanahboozhoo, so the enemies came and stole all of his cooked fowls. The Indians carefully lifted out the fowls by their legs, which Nanahboozhoo left sticking up. When they had eaten the bodies of the fowls they stuck back the legs in the ashes, as Nanahboozhoo had left them.
"When at last his sleep was ended Nanahboozhoo arose ready for his meal of nicely cooked fowl. Great, indeed, were his surprise and indignation when he pulled out the feet from the ashes and found that the bodies of the fowls were not there.
"He flew into a passion and resolved to punish his back. So he made a fire of big trees and stood with his back very close to it. When his flesh began to be badly burned it blistered, and made a noise like the roasting of meat. Nanahboozhoo did not at first seem to mind the pain, and only said:
"'You may well say 'Zeeng, Zeeng,' in your burning. I will teach you a lesson you will remember for not telling me that the Indians were stealing my roasted waterfowl.'
"Nanahboozhoo then went on his way, but in spite of his magic powers he felt a sort of a soreness in his back. He twisted his head around and saw the blisters that had been made by the fierce fire. So he thought how he must get rid of them, for they bothered him, although nothing could injure him for very long. While walking on the edge of a precipice he slipped—and away he slid, far down the rocky side. When he reached the bottom, he looked back, and there, on the rock, on which he had slid down, he saw things which he had never seen before.
"'My nephews,' said Nanahboozhoo, 'when they see these things on the rocks, will call them Wau-konug (lichen), and although they are poor food they will keep them from starving when they have nothing better.'
"This is the Indian tradition of the origin of the patches of lichen attached to the bare rocks. The Indians still call them 'no-scabs,' and when boiled they make a kind of jelly food which is a little better than starvation.
"Then Nanahboozhoo, although his back was bleeding from his sliding down the rough rocks, continued walking, sometimes along the shore and sometimes in the thick bush. In one place where the thicket was very dense such was his magic power that he pulled a lot of the thickets together and walked over on their tops. When he looked back he saw that the blood from the wounds in his back had given a red color to the bushes over which he had walked. Then said Nanahboozhoo:
"'My nephews will call these bushes "Me-squah-be-me-sheen" (red willows). They will use them to stop bleeding when they meet with any severe accidents;' and such the Indians still do when they live among them.
"This is the tradition as to the origin of the red willow, once so common in many of the Indian haunts.
"The reason why the partridge is called Kosh-ko-e-wa-soo (one that startles) is because one made even Nanahboozhoo give a big jump. It happened in this way:
"As Nanahboozhoo was walking along one day in the woods he saw a small creature. This little thing thought it would be best for him to be brave in the presence of Nanahboozhoo, and so when he was asked who he was he answered:
"'I am one who startles.'
"'You cannot startle me,' said Nanahboozhoo.
"The little creature suddenly flew away and Nanahboozhoo resumed his journey. By and by he reached a dangerous rocky point on the shore. Just as he was at the worst point the partridge suddenly flew almost from under his feet with a rumbling noise, and so startled him that he jumped up, sprang quickly aside, fell into the water, and got a great wetting. So even Nanahboozhoo had to confirm the name of the little partridge."
The return trip was not much enjoyed by the children. The dead loons in the canoe did not look as attractive as they had appeared when swimming and diving so gracefully in the lake. Souwanas was quick to notice their depression of spirits, and he there and then resolved that he would never again shoot any living thing in their presence, and he faithfully kept his resolve.
Mary met them as they landed and her quick eyes detected the change in their spirits, and as they wore their hearts on their sleeves for her she quickly found out the cause of their sorrow. She was not slow in availing herself of the opportunity afforded of giving Souwanas and Kennedy a vigorous scolding for nearly breaking the hearts of her precious darlings, by killing in their presence some of the birds whose play they had often watched for hours together.
The two men took her scolding in their usual silent way, and then had a quiet laugh together when her wrath had exhausted itself and she had indignantly walked off with the children.
One beautiful warm day, when the leaves of the trees were all bright and golden with their autumnal tints, the children were visiting at the tent of Souwanas.
The old man was making a beautiful little bow and a quiver full of arrows for Sagastao while the old wife was manufacturing an elaborate baby cradle, of the Indian pattern, for Minnehaha, in which she could carry her favorite doll in the style popular among the Indian girls.
The children were much interested in watching these highly-prized gifts being prepared for them, and of course had much to say in the way of thanks to those who were doing so much to add to their happiness.
While they were thus busy several canoes were seen coming from the south. As the wind was favorable sails had been improvised out of blankets, each fastened to a couple of oars, and with these simple appliances they sped rapidly along. Seeing Souwanas's wigwam on the point of land the Indians came to the shore and smoked and chatted for a short time ere they resumed their journey toward the north.
The Indian story-teller.
They had in their canoes quite a variety of game, and among them a large ill-smelling bird called a turkey-buzzard. It was said that the young Indian hunter who had shot it thought at first that it really was a turkey, but he found out his mistake when he went to lift it from the ground where it had fallen. The odor was so offensive that at first he thought he would leave it behind, but when he remembered that often some of the large feathers were used in ornamental work he decided to bring it along.
The children were interested in its appearance, as this was the first dead turkey-buzzard they had ever seen.
"Look, Souwanas," said Minnehaha, "the poor birdie has no feathers on its neck or head. It must be very cold there when the winter comes."
"Well, I think that, as likely as not, it was its own fault that it lost its feathers," said Sagastao, and then he added as he poked the rank bird over with a stick:
"I would not be surprised to hear that Nanahboozhoo had something to do with it."
"Nanahboozhoo had," said Souwanas, "and it was because of a mean trick that the buzzard played upon him. And now that these Indians are off, who are in a hurry to reach Poplar Point, if you will sit down on the rocks in the warm sunshine I will tell you the story."
No second invitation was necessary, so while the children seated themselves near him on the; smooth granite rock the old man continued his arrow making and told them the following story:
"One day when Nanahboozhoo was walking through the country he saw the buzzard soaring up high in the air. Like an eagle, he was making graceful circles round and round with very little effort. After a time the buzzard flew down to the earth, and there he stood on a rock with his great wings outstretched. Nanahboozhoo quietly approached and entered into conversation with him.
"'Brother Buzzard,' he said, 'you must be very happy when sailing around up there in the blue sky where you can so easily see everything that is going on down here on the world below you. I wish you would take me up there on your back and let me see how this world looks from that high place in the blue sky, where you live so much.'
"The buzzard on hearing this request at once flew down to the side of Nanahboozhoo and said:
"'I will with pleasure take you up on my back and let you see, as you desire, how the world looks from that high place.'
"Then Nanahboozhoo, seeing how smooth was the back of the great bird, said:
"'Brother Buzzard, your back is so smooth that I am afraid I will slip off, so you must be careful not to sweep round too rapidly in your circles in the sky.'
"The buzzard told Nanahboozhoo that he would be very careful although at the same time he was resolved, if it were possible, to play a trick on him; for he had a grudge of some long standing against him which Nanahboozhoo seemed to have forgotten.
"Nanahboozhoo then mounted on the back of the great buzzard and held by his feathers as well as he possibly could. The buzzard then took a short run, sprang from the ground, and spreading his great strong wings speedily rose up higher and higher in the sky.
"Nanahboozhoo at first felt rather timid as he found himself thus rapidly soaring through the air, especially as it was so difficult for him to keep his seat. When the buzzard began circling round and round it was even more difficult, for the body of the bird leaned over more and more as his speed increased. But Nanahboozhoo was very clever, and after a while he became more accustomed to his queer position and was very much interested in the splendid sights of the great world beneath him, over which he could now see for such a great distance. Lakes and rivers, forests and mountains, all gave delight to Nanahboozhoo, who had wonderful powers of vision.
"At length, as they rose up higher and higher in the blue sky, Nanahboozhoo shouted out in his delight as far away in the distance he recognized the wigwam of his grandmother, Nokomis. Indeed so delighted was he that for a moment he let go his hold on the buzzard and swung up his arms in his excitement. The treacherous buzzard noticed this, saw it was the opportunity for which he had been watching, and circled round so suddenly that his body was tilted over, and before Nanahboozhoo could regain his grip he slipped off the smooth back and fell like a stone to the ground. So terrible was the force with which he struck the earth that he was knocked senseless, and lay there for a long time like one dead.
"But, as I have told you, Nanahboozhoo was more than human and nothing could really kill him. So it happened that after a while he recovered his senses, but he was annoyed, disgusted, that he had allowed the buzzard to play such a mean trick on him.
"Then he prepared to resume his journey, and of course he looked up to see if there were any sign of the buzzard. He had not far to look, for there, up in the sky, not far off, was the old buzzard laughing at the trick he had played upon Nanahboozhoo, and much pleased with his own cleverness in deceiving one known to be so crafty.
"'Laugh away, old buzzard,' said Nanahboozhoo. 'You have had the best of me this time, but look out! For I will put a mark upon you for this trick of yours that will enable your friends and your enemies to recognize you both by day and by night.'
"But the buzzard, from his high safe place in the sky, only laughed back in derision, and said:
"'No, indeed, Nanahboozhoo, you will do nothing of the kind. You have been deceiving the other creatures, but in me you have found your match. You cannot deceive me. And now, especially as you have threatened me, I will always be on the watch for you.'
'Nanahboozhoo then mounted on the back of the great buzzard.'
"Nanahboozhoo made no reply to this boastful speech, but he did a lot of thinking, and he soon had his plans laid to teach Mr. Buzzard a lesson he would never forget.
"Resuming his journey he pushed on as though nothing had happened.
"The buzzard was at first suspicious and watched him for some time. Then seeing nothing unusual in his movements he flew away into the distant sky.
"Nanahboozhoo, in order to carry out his plan to punish the buzzard, resolved to turn himself into a dead deer. He knew that the buzzard lived on dead animals of all kinds. He chose a high spot, visible from a great distance, and there he laid himself down and changed himself into the body of a great deer. It was not long before the various animals and birds that subsist on such things began to gather round this dead body.
"The buzzard, that has such wonderful eyes, to see great distances, saw from afar this gathering of the birds and animals, and as he was ever on the lookout for such things he soon joined the rest of the creatures around the deer. He flew round and round it several times, for he was at first somewhat suspicious. The closest inspection, however, showed him that it was only a dead deer, and that was the unanimous opinion of all the other animals and birds that gathered there. There could be no doubt in any creature's mind but that it was a deer and that it was quite dead.
"The buzzard, now that all his suspicions were gone, in his great greed to get the best he could savagely began, with his powerful beak, tearing a hole in the side of the body that he might get down to the rich fat that is around the kidneys. This is what those fierce, greedy birds always try to get first. Deeper and deeper into the flesh he tore, until at length he was able to crowd in his head and neck to reach the dainty morsels he so much prized.
"This was just what Nanahboozhoo was waiting for, and when the head and neck of the buzzard were completely hidden in the body up jumped the deer, and as he did so the flesh closed up so tightly around the head and neck of the buzzard that the greedy bird was there securely held.
"'Ha, ha, old buzzard! I did catch you after all, as I said I would,' said Nanahboozhoo. 'Now pull out your neck and head.'
"The buzzard with very great difficulty at length succeeded in drawing his head out of the side of the deer. The effort to do so, however, was so great that he lost all of the beautiful feathers that once adorned his head and neck. From that day they have never grown on him again, and there is nothing there to be seen but the red rough-looking skin.
"'Never again,' said Nanahboozhoo, 'will feathers cover your neck or head, and so your friends and enemies, as they see you, will be reminded of how Nanahboozhoo punished you for playing one of your tricks on him. And also from this time forward your food will only be of the rankest kind, and the disagreeable odor will so cling to you that even in the darkest nights your hateful presence will be detected and shunned.'
"Thus," added Souwanas, "the buzzard is the most despised of birds, because he is such an ugly fellow, with his featherless head and neck, and because his disagreeable odor taints the sweet air wherever he goes."
Moonlight nights in the Northland are often very beautiful. There in the summer time the gloaming continues until nearly midnight. Then nothing can be more glorious than to glide along amid the beautiful fir-clad rocky islands in a birch canoe over the still transparent waters. So large and luminous are the full moons of July and August that, with the west aglow and with the wondrous aurora flashing and blazing in the north, there is practically little night and no darkness at all.
Nothing gave the children greater pleasure than to have permission to go with Mary and Kennedy in a large roomy birch canoe for a moonlight excursion during one of those warm, brilliant nights. With plenty of rugs or cushions, to make the coziest of seats in the center of the canoe, they fairly reveled in the beauties of the romantic surroundings while they floated on the moonlit lake. Often in some place of more than ordinary beauty Kennedy would cease paddling, and then their very quietness added to the charms of those happy outings.
With Mary and Kennedy in the birch canoe.
"Say, Mary," said Sagastao, "I was reading in one of my books about the 'man in the moon.' Do you know anything about him?"
"He is looking at us very kindly to-night," said Minnehaha. "I really believe I saw him laughing, he is so pleased we have come out to see him this lovely night."
These remarks of the children caused all in the canoe to more closely scan the great round moon that was shining with silvery whiteness straight in front of them.
"There are lots of stories about the moon among our people," said Mary, "but not a great many about the man in the moon. There is, however, a queer one about how he came down and helped a poor orphan boy."
"O, tell it to us just now," said Minnehaha, "while he is watching and listening."
"Do, Mary," said Sagastao, "and Minnehaha and I will watch the old fellow and see how he likes to be talked about."
"Well," said Minnehaha, "Mary will be talking to him to his face, and not behind his back, as people sometimes do when talking about others."
Thus the children ran on with their prattle. Mary and Kennedy were much amused.
"Come, Mary, hurry up! Father said the gloaming would end about eleven, and we must be at the shore by that time."
"Pretty late hours for little children," said Kennedy.
"Never mind that," said Sagastao; "we will make up for it in winter time, when it gets dark at four o'clock."
With Sagastao on one side of her in the big canoe and Minnehaha on the other—their favorite positions when listening to her fascinating stories as she crooned them out in her soft, musical Cree—Mary told them the story.
"Long ago," she began, "there was a poor orphan boy who had neither father nor mother, uncle, aunt, nor any living relative that he knew of. He had a very hard time of it, as the people did not seem to take kindly to him. So he had to live just where he could. He managed to get along all right during the pleasant summer time, but when the long cold winters began he suffered very much. One winter some selfish people let him live with them because he was willing to work hard for what little they did for him. They treated him badly in many ways. They made him go out into the woods and cut firewood, but when he brought it home they would only allow him to stay in the cold entry-way which they had built to their winter dwelling.
"They made him go and hunt different animals for food, and then when he brought, them home they cooked and ate the best themselves, and just threw the fragments and bones to him as they would to a dog. Every member of the household treated him very cruelly, except a nice little girl, the youngest daughter of the family. She felt very sorry for him. She would secretly take him better food, and she furnished him with a knife with which he could cut the tough pieces of meat. She had to be very careful not to be discovered, for if found out she would have been severely punished. So her pity had to show itself on the sly, and the few words she was able to tell him of her sympathy had to be whispered as she passed him, when nobody was looking or listening. The poor boy up to this time had no ambition to better himself, but her kind words and deeds made him resolve that he must begin and do something for himself. But what could he do? Everybody seemed against him but this little girl, and she could do nothing in the way of helping him to escape from these people, who, now that he was becoming so useful to them, would not let him go. What, really, could he do?
"Thus the days and weeks and months passed on and there seemed no chance of escape. He had tried to run away, but had been caught and brought back and beaten.
"One night when it was not very cold he went outside of the narrow entry where he generally had to sleep and threw himself on the ground and cried in his sorrow and despair. He seemed to be utterly unable to better himself. As he lay there he began looking up at the great bright moon that, now so large and round, was, he thought, looking earnestly at him. Soon he was able to see that there was a great man in the moon. As he watched him he was glad to notice that he was not looking crossly at him, but kindly, and so he began crying to the man in the moon to come and help him to escape from the miserable life he was leading. Sure enough, as the boy kept on crying and pleading he saw the man in the moon beginning to come down to this world. He came to the very spot where the unhappy boy was lying, but instead of helping him he made him stand up and then he gave him a good sound thrashing, making the boy, however, strike back at him as vigorously as he could. The beating he got very much disheartened and discouraged the boy, for it was not what he had expected. On the following night, when he had recovered a little, he began reproaching the man in the moon.
"'I called for you,' he said, 'to come and help me against my enemies, and now you have come and thrashed me.'
"But these words, instead of softening the man in the moon, caused him to come down again and give the poor boy a far worse thrashing than before, but for every blow he made the boy return one as good as he had received.
"Now for the first time the boy began to notice that the more he was beaten the stronger he grew. Still he could not understand what the man in the moon meant. So he came again, and they had another regular set-to, and the boy had another good sound thrashing. He asked him what was the meaning of his beating him thus. The man in the moon now spoke to him, but his words were so much like a puzzle that at first the boy did not understand them. This is what the man in the moon said:
"'Would you triumph o'er the strong?Be strong.Would you let them no more conquer?Conquer.'
"For a time the boy repeated them over and over. He used to say that as the result of these meetings with the man in the moon he had grown so strong that he was nearly able to hold his own against his antagonist. Then one day, when the man in the moon was puffing from the encounter, the latter said:
"'Now by hard knocks and exercise I have put you on the way of ending your troubles. Be strong, and conquer. Farewell! I am not coming again, as you do not need me any more.'
"Then away he flew back to his place in the moon.
"The boy seemed now to know that he was to use his strength for his own deliverance. To test himself he began tossing up the stones that were so numerous on the shore of the lake. First he began with quite small ones, but soon he found that he could pick up and throw about great big ones, that were like rocks. When he returned from this last contest with the man in the moon it was nearly daylight.
"At first the people began ordering him about as usual. But they soon had reason to be sorry for their cruelty and abuse, for the boy seized one after another of them and flung them with such violence against the rocks that their brains were dashed out and their blood ran in streams down the sides of the rocks—where it turned into seams in the rocks which can be seen to this day.
"One person only, of all who lived in that dwelling, did the now strong boy leave alive, and that was, of course, the good-hearted little girl who used to speak kind words to him and befriend him when she could.
"They grew to be very fond of each other, and were afterward married and lived in full possession of all the things that once belonged to the cruel people for whom the little orphan boy had worked so long."
"Well, sakehou," said Sagastao, "I have been watching the man in the moon while you have been telling the story about his queer way of helping the boy to help himself, and he was looking pleased all the time. So I am sure he is well satisfied with the way you have told the story."
Old Mary was delighted with these words from the lips of the lad she loved with such a passionate devotion.
"But what do you think about it, little sister?" said the lad, calling to Minnehaha, who was cuddled down on the other side of Mary.
But the darling gave no answer, for she had long ago slipped off into Dreamland, and there she remained until the strong arms of Kennedy lifted her up from the canoe and carried her home.
Wahkiegun, as Souwanas named the home of his white friends, always had a warm welcome for Souwanas. Little Souwanaquenapeke had learned to love him and nothing gave the grave old man greater pleasure than to have charge of her for hours at a time. He often carried her away to his wigwam and with great delight explained to visiting Indians how his name was woven into that of the first little paleface born among his people.
Sagastao and Minnehaha, while of course pleased to see the love of the old chief for their sweet little sister, were sometimes a little impatient when they found that he would have his hour with her before they could draw a Nanahboozhoo story out of him.
"You are all right," he would say in his dry, humorous way, "as far as you go; you are only Crees," he would add with a smile, referring to the fact that they had been born among the Cree Indians farther north; "but Souwanaquenapeke is better, as she is a pure Saulteaux."
This of course would put Sagastao and Minnehaha on the defensive, for in those days their own pride of birth was that they were Cree Indians. Faithful old Mary, herself a Cree, would of course take their part, and it was very amusing—laughable at times—to listen to the wordy strife. In these discussions Mary was always the one to first lose her temper. When this happened the penalty was to have the children throw a shawl over her head and thus silence her. From their loving hands she quietly took her punishment and was soon restored to good nature. Good-hearted Souwanas then speedily responded to the call for a story. But the little Souwanaquenapeke must be, if awake, in his arms, or, if asleep, in a little hammock or native cradle beside him.
"What is it to be about to-day?" asked the old man, as the children, full of eager anticipation, drew a couple of chairs up before him.
After some discussion Souwanas decided to tell them the Nanahboozhoo story of how he lessened the power of the rattlesnakes to do harm.
"Nanahboozhoo, in starting off one day from his grandmother's wigwam, had put on the disguise of a fine young hunter. He had not gone many miles on his journey before he came to a little tent on the edge of the forest where he found a young Indian mother full of grief over her sick child. Nanahboozhoo could not but feel very sorry for her, especially when he heard her story that a snake had crawled noiselessly into her tent and had bitten her little girl while she slept. Nanahboozhoo felt such pity, both for the weeping mother and the bitten child, that at once he set to work to counteract the sad doings of the snake. He hurriedly went into the forest, and there finding a certain plant he said, 'From this day forward the root of this plant shall be a remedy for all people against the bites of snakes.'
"Then Nanahboozhoo showed the mother that the roots were to be pounded and made into a drink and a poultice. The glad mother quickly carried out his instructions and the little girl was soon well again. The Indians have ever since been very thankful to Nanahboozhoo for letting them know of this plant, which they still use for such purposes and which they call snakeroot. Nanahboozhoo remained until he saw that the little girl was quite recovered. Then he said:
"'Now I will fix that snake so that he will not be able to do so much harm in the future.'
"Then going out he caught the king of the snakes and gave him a great scolding for the meanness of that one of his family which had crawled into the tent of the Indian mother and so cruelly bitten that little girl while she slept. Then getting very angry, for Nanahboozhoo was very quick-tempered, he said:
"'Snakes, like other things, have the right to live. They are given their place in the world, and their work. They are to keep down the mice, rats, frogs, toads, and other things that might become too numerous. They have their poisons given them to defend themselves if attacked. But they have no right to go and kill or injure anyone doing them no harm. I'll teach you snakes that in future you cannot quietly crawl about and bite innocent people thus.'
"So he took a piece of the wampum from one of the strings with which he had decorated himself, and having carefully carved the hard shells of which wampum is made, Nanahboozhoo firmly fastened them to the snake's tail, and said:
"'From this day forward may all snakes like you have those noisy rattles upon them, so that all people will call you rattlesnakes. And may it be that you can never move without making a noise with those rattles, so that people will always be able to hear them and thus get ready to fight you, or to get out of your way before you can do any harm.'"
"Well done, Nanahboozhoo!" shouted little Sagastao. "He's the one for me. But why did he not kill all the rattlesnakes at once?"
Souwanas was, however, too clever to be caught trying to answer a question that, although asked by a child, was beyond his knowledge, so he resorted to his calumet, and as the smoke of it began to taint the air Sagastao said, "Well, Souwanas, can you tell us where you Indians first got your tobacco?"
This question was more to the taste of the old Indian, so while he smoked he related the tradition of the introduction of tobacco among his people.
"Very many winters ago," said he, "as Nanahboozhoo was traveling on one of his long journeys he visited a land of great high mountains. One day as he was passing a great chasm in the mountains he saw some blue smoke slowly coming up out of it. This excited his curiosity and he went to see what caused it. As he drew near to it he was very much pleased with its odor. On further investigation he found that the great cave from which the smoke arose was inhabited by a giant who was the keeper of tobacco.
"Nanahboozhoo, on searching, found him half asleep in this cave among great bales and bags of tobacco.
"The smell of the smoke of the tobacco had so pleased Nanahboozhoo that he asked the giant to give him some. The giant refused in a very surly fashion, saying that he only gave portions of it away to his friends the Munedoos, who came once a year to smoke with him.
"Nanahboozhoo, seeing that he was not going to be able to get any by thus pleading for it, snatched up one of the well-filled tobacco bags, dashed out with it, and fled away as rapidly as possible. The great giant was fearfully enraged, and at once began the pursuit of this rash fellow who had thus stolen his tobacco from under his very nose.
"It was a fearful race. Nanahboozhoo had to jump from one mountain top to the next, and so on and on from peak to peak. Closely behind him followed the giant, and Nanahboozhoo had all he could do to keep from being captured. Fortunately for him he now knew the mountains well, and he remembered one ahead of him the opposite side of which was very steep. When he reached this top he suddenly threw himself down upon the very edge, and as the giant passed over him Nanahboozhoo suddenly sprang up and gave him such a push that he tumbled down into the fearful chasm. He was so bruised and wounded that, as he got up and hobbled away down the far-off valley, Nanahboozhoo watching him saw that he looked just like a great grasshopper. He burst out laughing, and then shouted to the giant:
"'For your meanness and selfishness I change you into a grasshopper; Pukaneh shall be your name and you will always have a dirty mouth.'
"And so it is to this day, for every little boy who has caught grasshoppers knows that their saliva is as though they had been chewing tobacco.
"When Nanahboozhoo had rested himself a little he returned to the cave of the giant and took possession of the great quantities of tobacco he found there. He divided it among the Indian tribes, and from that time those who live where it will grow have cultivated it and have supplied all the others."
"I wish," said Minnehaha, "that Nanahboozhoo had left Pukaneh and his tobacco in the cave, for I don't think tobacco smoke is very nice in the house."