The Legend of the Bad Boy--How He was Carried Away
by Annungitee, and How He was Rescued by His Mother.
"Tell us, Mary, a story about the boys of the old times among the Indians,"
said Sagastao.
"About bad boys," said Minnehaha with a mischievous look in her eyes; "for
this morning brother and papa had to have a 'settlement,' and it might do
Sagastao good to hear about other bad boys and what was done with them."
These words of Minnehaha made Mary very angry. She thought more of Sagastao
than she did of any other member of the family, and nothing threw her into
a rage quicker than for anyone to cross him or even to question the wisdom
of anything he said. Now, indignant that his father had been obliged to
call him into his study for some misdemeanor, Mary was greatly annoyed to
hear these words.
"O, pshaw, Sakehow," said Sagastao; "do not be so touchy. I deserved the
talking to that papa gave me. It was wrong of me to whack that Indian boy
with my bat as I did, and I ought to have been punished; so if you have any
jolly good stories about bad Indian boys, and how they were punished, why,
let us have one."
This confession of her favorite, who, after his temper cooled, was always
quick to admit that he had been in the wrong, quite pacified Mary, and she
settled down on the wolfskin rug with the children and began her story.
"Long ago all the Indians believed in Windegoos and other spirits that were
more or less friendly to good people. Some were man-eaters and, of course,
were always to be feared. Some Indians were in such fear of these cannibals
that they would never leave the wigwam after dark for fear of being gobbled
up by some of the monsters that might be skulking about.
"There was one great creature called Annungitee, or Two Faced. He had a
great habit of looking out for bad boys, very bad boys. It was said that he
could not see really good boys; that they were like glass, and he could not
see them. But when a boy became very bad he was then so black that he was
easily seen, and Annungitee could espy him a long way off and was very
likely to come after him.
"Fortunately Annungitee always made a noise when he was passing along. This
was a good thing for bad boys, for it gave them time to scurry into the
wigwams, out of his way. He was so big that when he set one of his feet
down on the ground there would be sounds like the ringing of bells and the
hooting of owls. When he put the other foot down the sound was like the
roaring of buffalo bulls when they are going to fight each other. Even when
he tried to move softly there would be sounds like birds and beasts crying
out. All the Indians who had heard this great terrible fellow were afraid
of him, and yet no two were able to give the same description of him. But
they did agree on one thing, and that was that when he caught a very wicked
man, which he did sometimes, or very bad boys, which he often did, he just
threw him into one of his big ears and held him there. Indeed, it was
believed that he could hold three big men or six bad boys in one of his
ears at the same time. Nobody knew where he lived, as no one had been found
brave enough to follow and see, and no daring hunter had ever found his
abode in any of his hunting expeditions.
"Now a certain Indian man and his wife who lived in a wigwam quite apart
from other families had one boy. He was their only child. He had been a
very bad, cruel, unkind boy. His father had to work hard as a hunter to
obtain sufficient game to keep them from starving. His mother cut the wood,
carried up the water from the distant river, dressed the skins of the
animals that were shot by her husband, and did all the work of the wigwam.
The boy would not lift a finger to help in any way. One day the mother, who
was quite sick, asked him to go for some water. He refused, and was very
saucy to her. Then she asked him if he would please bring in some wood for
her, as she felt cold. No, he would not do anything of the kind. She then
became quite angry with him, and said:
"'If you do not be a better boy I will put you out of the wigwam, and
Annungitee will toss you into his ear.'
"All the same, she did not really believe he would, as she had not heard of
Annungitee or any other kind of ghost being around for a long, long time.
She only said what she did to frighten the bad boy into obedience. Indeed
she had often said to him, when she was angry with him, 'I do hope a ghost
will catch you.' But the more she talked to him the worse he became. So one
day when he had been very lazy and very rude to her she sprang up and,
seizing him by the arm, undertook to put him out of the wigwam. He became
much frightened at this and began to cry. But she, knowing that he deserved
to be punished, pushed him out and securely fastened the doorway, calling
out:
"'May Annungitee catch you!'
"She did not really mean it, of course. No mother could wish her boy to
have such a terrible misfortune. The frightened boy then began running
round and round the wigwam, trying to find some place where he could get
in, but he could find no opening. After a while his crying and his efforts
to get into the wigwam ceased, and all became still and silent. His mother
listened attentively, and every moment expected to hear his voice again,
but there was no sound except something like the sound of the singing of
birds and the rattling of small bells dying away in the distance. At this
she became very much frightened and began to cry, and to call for her boy.
She threw open the door flap and began to search all around her wigwam for
her son. But all in vain! He was nowhere to be found.
"When the father came home from his hunting she told him of the sudden
disappearance of their boy, and he, too, was very much alarmed. They set
out and visited the lodges of all the people around. But no one had seen or
heard anything of the missing boy. They returned to their own silent wigwam
very sorrowful, and for days they mourned over the loss of their son. One
night, as the mother was weeping on account of her great loss, she heard
some one crying out to her:
"'Hi! Hi!' and at the same time she heard the sounds of bells ringing and
owls hooting. This happened several nights, and then one night there was a
voice saying:
"'You said, "Ghost, take that boy." Hi! Hi!'
"Next morning the wife told her husband what she had heard during the
previous night, and she added:
"'I believe the ghost Annungitee has taken our boy.'
"Her husband was very angry when he heard this, and said:
"'Yes, a ghost has taken our boy. You gave him to him, and he has taken
you at your word. So why should you complain? It serves you right.'
[Illustration: "They tumbled the tall ghost over."]
"At this the mother lifted up her voice and cried out so loud that it could
be heard a great distance.
"'Husband,' she said, 'I deserve what you have said, but I am going to try
and get back our boy, and so to-night I will hide in the pile of wood that
is outside the wigwam, and if the ghost comes along again, as he has been
coming, I will catch him by the leg, and you must rush out and try to
rescue our son.'
"So that night she hid herself in the wood pile, and, sure enough, after a
while she heard the sound of bells ringing and animals softly crying out,
and then a loud 'Hi! Hi!' after which all was still.
"Then, as she cautiously looked out from her hiding place, there before her
was a great creature standing beside the wigwam. He was so tall that his
head was higher than the smoke hole at the top, and he was peeping down
into the wigwam. But, big as he was, she had a mother's loving heart after
all, and as she thought of her boy fastened up there in one of his big ears
she was determined to rescue him if possible. So she cautiously moved along
until she was able to seize one of his legs, which she did with all her
strength, and at the same instant she shouted for her husband to come and
help. Out he rushed, and between them they tumbled the tall ghost over and,
sure enough, in one of his big ears they found their little boy.
"Poor little fellow. He was half-starved, and so thin and weak that he
could hardly stand. But they helped him into the wigwam and gave him some
soup, made out of some birds that his father had killed that day.
"The tall ghost was so frightened by the sudden way in which he had been
seized that as soon as he could get up he hurried away, and was never seen
in that part of the country again. Some tribes say he went South, and
there, when he was stealing children and carrying them off in his ears, he
was caught by the angry parents and burned to death on a big wood pile."
"Did the little boy get better?" asked Minnehaha.
"O yes, he did, after a while; but he was a long time in getting over the
fright he had had. It did him good, however, for after that he was never
rude and saucy to his mother and did all he could to help her."
"Did it do the mother any good?" asked Sagastao, who had not been
altogether satisfied with her treatment of the boy.
"Yes, indeed," said Mary; "for after that terrible fright she was never
known to shout out at her boy such words as, 'I hope the ghost will catch
you,' or any other of the unpleasant ones which she sometimes had used when
she was angry with him."
"Thank you, Sakehow," said both the children. "A pretty good story, that."
Then what a jolly romp they had with Jack and Cuffy! The two splendid dogs
were the children's special protectors and companions.
[Illustration: "Their dog trains were in almost constant demand."]