More about Mary and the Children--Minnehaha Stung by
the Bees--How the Bees Got Their Stings--What Happened
to the Bears that Tried to Steal the Honey.
The next morning while Mary was dressing them the children told her of
their adventures in the wigwam of the Indians. Mary was really interested,
though she pretended to be disgusted at the whole thing, and professed, in
her Indian way, to be quite shocked when they both confidentially informed
her that they had had such a good time that they were going again even if
they had to run away and be whipped for it.
This was terrible news for Mary, and placed her in an awkward position. To
tell the parents of the children's resolve was something she would never
do, as it might bring down upon them some of the punishment which was quite
contrary to her principles. Yet, on the other hand, to let them go and to
give no information might cause more trouble than she liked to think of.
Neither could she bear the thought of the two children returning from
another day's outing with their neat clothing and pretty faces soiled and
dirty. Do as they might, she had never once informed on them, and she had
no mind to begin now. She earnestly pleaded with them not to carry out
their resolve. The little ones were shrewd enough to see that they had
thoroughly alarmed her, and they were in no hurry to surrender the power
which they saw they had over her.
Mary never said a word in English. She understood a good deal that others
said, but she never expressed herself in other than the Indian language.
Hence both little Sagastao and Minnehaha always talked with her in her own
tongue.
Minnehaha, seeing Mary's anxiety at their determination to run away to the
Indians, thought of compromising the matter by insisting that Mary should
tell them more tales. If she would do this they "would not run away very
soon;" especially did she emphasize the "very soon." This was hardly
satisfactory to Mary, but as it was the best promise she could get she was
obliged to consent.
Little Sagastao, who was Mary's favorite, once more unsettled her when he
said, "Now, Mary, remember, we have only promised not to run away very
soon. That means that we intend to do it some time."
It seems that the little conspirators had talked it all over in the morning
in their beds, and had decided how they would get stories out of Mary
without really promising not to run away to the wigwam of Souwanas.
The children, being dressed, were taken down by Mary to prayers and
breakfast, after which an hour was allowed in summer-time for outdoor
amusement before the lessons began. Little Sagastao generally spent his
hour, either with his father or some trusty Indian, playing with and
watching the gambols of the great dogs, of which not a few were kept at
that mission home. Minnehaha was with her mother, and was interested in the
bestowal of gifts to the poor widows and children who generally came at
that hour.
Owing to the isolated situation of the mission, and the fact that there
were no organized schools within hundreds of miles, some hours of the
forenoon were devoted to the education of the children in the home. The
afternoons, according to the season, were devoted to reading and amusement.
Mary, the nurse, while able to read fluently in the Cree syllabics, had no
knowledge of English. As the children's education progressed they wanted to
teach Mary. She stubbornly resisted, however, declaring that if they taught
her to read English they would want to make her talk it.
The mother noted the unusual expectancy manifested by the children during
the day, and on inquiring the reason was promptly informed that Mary had
promised to tell them a story, or legend, and "had got to do it."
"Why has she _got_ to do it?" said the loving mother, struck with the
emphasis which they had placed on the word.
The little mischiefs were cunning enough to see that they had nearly run
themselves into trouble, and were wisely silent. Mary also noticed this,
and at once her great loyalty to the little folk manifested itself, and
quickly turning to her mistress she said, with an emphasis which was quite
unusual:
"Mary has promised them a story, and as she always keeps her word she has
_got_ to tell it."
Saying this she quickly sprang from the floor, where she had been sitting,
and taking a child by each hand she marched with them out of the room.
"Hurrah for you, Mary! you saved us that time," said little Sagastao.
Mary would not have been sorry if in some way the parents received an
inkling of what was in the minds of the children, yet she had such peculiar
ideas that she would never herself be the one to convey that information.
During the brief summer months the pleasantest walks were along the shores
of the lake. Many were the cosy little cave-like retreats where Mary often
led the children. There, with the sunlit waters before them, and the
rippling waves making music at their feet, the old nurse crooned out many
an Indian legend or exciting story about the red men of the past. To-day,
however, she was perplexed by the attitude of the children and could not
select any story that she thought of sufficient interest to divert their
minds from Souwanas and Nanahboozhoo. So for a time they wandered on along
the pleasant shore, or turned aside to gather the brilliant wild flowers.
A scream of pain from Minnehaha interrupted their pleasure. In gathering
some wild lilies she was stung on both hands by some honey bees that were
in the flowers. Mary quickly made a batter of clay and bound up the wounded
hands in it. Then she sat down and took the child in her lap.
"Naughty bees to sting me like this," said Minnehaha, with tears streaming
down her cheeks. "I was not doing them any harm."
"Yes, you were, and so were we all," said the brother. "We were carrying
off the flowers from which they get their honey, which is their food."
"Well, they might let us have a few flowers without stinging us," replied
Minnehaha.
The intense pain of the stings rapidly abated under Mary's homely but
skillful treatment, and as the child still retained her place in Mary's lap
she said,
"Can you tell us why such pretty little things as bees have such terrible
stings? My hands felt as if they were on fire when I was first stung, and I
could not help crying out with the pain."
"Well," said Mary, "there was a time when the bees had no stings, and they
were as harmless as the house flies. They were just as industrious as they
are now, but they had any amount of trouble in keeping their honey from
being stolen from them, for every creature loves it.
"In vain they hid their combs away up in hollow trees and in the clefts of
high rocks. The bears, which are very fond of honey, were ever on the
lookout for it, and were very clever in getting it when once they found
where it was hidden away. Birds with long beaks would suck it out, and even
the little squirrels were always stealing it. The result was that whole
swarms often starved in the long winters, because all their honey, which is
their winter food, was stolen from them. The bees were in danger of being
destroyed. They gave up working in great numbers together, and scattered
into little companies, and in the most secret places tried to store away a
little honey, just enough to keep them alive from season to season. But
even these little hives were often discovered and the honey devoured.
"Things had come to such a pass with them that they had almost given up
hope of lasting much longer.
"Fortunately for them, word was circulated that Wakonda, the strong
spirit--the one who sent the mosquitoes--was coming around on a tour, to
see how everything was progressing. He was greater than even Nanahboozhoo,
and was perhaps a relative of his, but he very seldom appeared, or did
anything for anyone. However, it happened that he had this year left his
beautiful home at Spirit Lake and was journeying through the country, and
he was willing to help all who were in real distress.
"So the bees resolved to apply to him for help. Wakonda received them very
graciously, and ate heartily of the present of beautiful honey which some
of them had made and had succeeded in keeping out of the way of bears and
their other enemies.
"When his feast of honey was over he listened to their tales of sorrow and
woe. He was indignant when he heard of the numbers of their enemies, and of
the persistency of their attacks upon such industrious little creatures.
"For a time Wakonda was uncertain as to the best method to adopt to help
them. He dismissed them for that day, and told them to come again on a day
he mentioned, saying that by that time he would know just what to do--for
help them he would. The bees were so delighted with this news that they
could not keep it to themselves but must go and tell their cousins, the
wasps and hornets, and even bumblebees.
"When the appointed time arrived the bees were on hand--and so were the
wasps, hornets, and bumblebees. Wakonda welcomed the bees most kindly, but
was a little suspicious about their visitors, and he asked some sharp
questions. But the bees were in such good humor about the help that was
coming that they did not refer to the bad habits of their cousins at all.
Then Wakonda made a speech to the bees, and told them how much he loved
them for their industrious habits, which he wished all creatures had. He
praised them for the fact that, instead of idly wasting the summer days,
they used them in gathering up food for the long, cold winter.
"Then he proceeded to give them the terrible stings which they have had
ever since, and as the wasps and hornets claimed to be their cousins
Wakonda was good-natured enough to give them the same sort of weapons.
Some people, especially boys, think this was a, great mistake, and would be
very glad if Wakonda had refused to give stings to the yellow wasp and the
black hornet."
"Well, what happened after the bees got their stings?" said Sagastao.
"A good deal happened," said Mary, "and that very soon. A lot of them,
without as much effort to conceal their nest as formerly, selected a tall,
hollow tree, and using a big knot hole as the door began secreting their
honey in it. They had made the combs, and were now filling them, when along
came a couple of bears. These animals, as you have been told, are great
honey thieves, but they always had hard work to find where the timid bees
had cunningly hid it away, and now they could hardly believe that right
here before them was a great swarm of bees filling the air with their
buzzing as they flew in and out of the knot hole.
"With saucy assurance they at once began climbing the tree, expecting to be
able to put their long paws into that big hole and draw out the combs. But
they never reached that knot hole. The noise they made in their climbing
alarmed the bees. Out they came in great numbers, and now, instead of
flying around in a panic, like so many house flies, and seeing their honey
devoured, they at once flew at their enemies, the bears. They stung them on
their noses and about their eyes and lips, and indeed in every spot where
they could possibly reach them with their terrible new weapons.
"The bears could not make out what the trouble was. They howled with rage
and terror, yet they were resolved to get that honey, and still tried to
crawl up higher on the tree. But at length the bees mustered in such vast
numbers--for those away gathering honey, as they returned, joined in the
attack--that the bears became wild with pain and fear, and had to give up
their effort and drop to the ground. Even then the bees gave them no peace,
and continued to sting them until they were obliged to run into the dark
forest for relief.
"Thus it happens now that almost all creatures that bother the bees are
similarly treated."
[Illustration: "They howled with rage and terror."]
"Well," said Minnehaha, "they need not have stung me because I was picking
a few flowers; but, after all, I am glad they have their stings or I
suppose we should never have any honey."
"They are not big enough to have much sense," replied Sagastao, "and so
they go for everyone that gets in their way."
Mary now carefully removed the clay poultices, which had effectually done
their work. A wash followed, in the waters of the lake which rippled at
their feet, and soon not the slightest trace of the sting remained. By the
time they reached home both pain and tears were well-nigh forgotten.
That evening before the children were sent to bed they overheard Jakoos,
who had come to the house with venison to sell, telling in the kitchen a
story that he had heard from Souwanas about a naughty fellow, called
Maheigan, who tried to capture a beautiful kind-hearted maiden, Waubenoo,
and of how Nanahboozhoo thrashed him, and then afterward, because of some
naughty children not holding their tongues, Waubenoo was turned into the
Whisky Jack.
What the little children overheard had very much excited their curiosity,
and so when Mary was putting them to bed they demanded from her the full
story.
As this was one of the Saulteaux Indian legends, while Mary was a Cree, she
was not familiar with it. She told the children that she knew nothing about
it, but this by no means set their curiosity at rest.