Kinnesasis--How the Coyote Obtained the Fire from the
Interior of the Earth.
A great time the children had in the wigwam of Kinnesasis. He was such a
jolly little old Indian, and he was specially happy to-day when the
children opened out the gifts and presented them. He was more than
delighted with a suit of black clothes sent him from a distance by friends
who had heard about him and his needs. He quickly put on the whole suit,
which fitted him very nicely, and then much amused the children by saying:
"I am sure the man who made these clothes is in heaven, or, if not yet
dead, he will go to heaven when he dies."
"Why, Kinnesasis, it is the kind friends who sent you these clothes you
ought to thank, and not make such a fuss over the man who made them; he was
paid for making them," said Sagastao. But Kinnesasis could only think of
the man who made the suit of which he was so proud.
Kinnesasis's old wife was, if possible, still more delighted with her
presents than the old man with his. She and Minnehaha were always the best
of friends, and now as the child handed her gift after gift of warm
clothing and food her joy knew no bounds, and, old as she was, when some
warm shoes were given her, she sprang up and began singing an Indian song,
while with all the agility of a young maiden she spun around the wigwam in
rhythmic measure to her words, which, roughly translated, are as follows:
"The Good Spirit has pity on me,
Though for days I had little to eat,
I was wretched and sad in my heart,
I was cold, O so cold! in my feet.
"But now I have plenty of meat,
Clothes for my body, shoes for my feet,
I'll not grumble, nor sorrow, but praise
The Good Spirit the rest of my days."
"Well done!" shouted the children when the old woman stopped. They were
greatly delighted with her performance. Kinnesasis, however, who, as well
as his wife, was now a church member, professed to be much shocked at
seeing her thus dancing, as though in the wild excitement of the Ghost
Dance. But both Sagastao and Minnehaha stood up for the old wife. They said
the words she sang were good enough for the church, any day, and they were
sure nobody could find fault with her thus showing how glad and thankful
she was.
And nobody ever did find fault and soon was the affair almost forgotten,
for now the merry jingling of more dog bells was heard, and who should come
into the wigwam of Kinnesasis but the parents of Sagastao and Minnehaha!
Cordially were they greeted. At first it was difficult for them to
recognize the staid little gentleman in his full suit of broadcloth as the
lively but generally ill-clothed Kinnesasis. The visitors--who quickly saw
and were delighted with the transformation--greeted him as though he were
some distinguished stranger. This vastly amused the children. Screaming
with laughter at Kinnesasis's pretense of keeping up the farce, they
shouted out, "Why, this is only our dear old Kinnesasis. He is no great
stranger. It is only Kinnesasis with his new clothes."
"Well," then was asked, "who is that charming old lady over there with such
a fine shawl and brilliant handkerchief on, and such fancy new shoes on her
feet? Surely she is a stranger."
"No! No!" the children again shouted. "Why, that is Kinnesasis's wife, with
her new presents on! My! doesn't she look nice!"
Here the little ones seized hold of the happy old Indian woman and made her
get up and show herself off in her new apparel, of which she was just as
proud as Kinnesasis.
"And she gave us such a jolly dance in them, papa! Wouldn't you like to see
her do it again?" cried Minnehaha.
But here Kinnesasis, pretending to be shocked beyond measure, in a most
diplomatic manner directed the attention of the parents to some other
matter, and so the mischievous child did not succeed in making a church
scandal by inducing one of the flock to dance before the missionary.
"Tell us, Kinnesasis," said Sagastao, "how it was that that old man and his
daughters first obtained the fire which Nanahboozhoo so cleverly stole from
them and gave to the Indians long ago."
At first Kinnesasis hesitated about telling the old legend, saying that he
did not think the father and mother of the children would care for such
stories.
"Don't they, though!" cried the children. "You don't know them very well,
then, if you don't know that they like stories just about as well as we
do."
And with this they at once appealed to the parents, who of course sided
with them and expressed their desire to listen to this story that the
children had told them they were to hear from dear old Kinnesasis.
Throwing some more logs on the fire, around which the white visitors with
the Indians gathered, Kinnesasis began:
"It was long ago, when I was a young lad, that I heard the story from the
old story-tellers of our people. I had traveled with my father for many
days far toward the setting sun. We reached the land of the great
mountains, and there, with our people of those regions, we spent some
moons. It was while we were among them that I heard from the ancient
story-teller the legend of how the fire was stolen from the center of the
earth, where it was kept hidden away from the human family.
"That there was such a thing as fire was well known. It had been seen
bursting out of the tops of distant mountains, and there had been times in
great thunderstorms, when the lightning had set fire to dead trees--and
indeed in this latter way the Indians had become acquainted with its value
to the human race. But they had not taken care to keep it burning, and no
one had been appointed to specially look after it.
"The reason why fire had not been from the first given to men was because
when the race was created the fire was not much needed. The earth was then
much warmer than it is now. There was no snow or ice ever seen except on
the tops of the very highest mountains. Great animals now all dead, and
others that could only live in the hottest countries, lived all over these
great lands. Then there was abundance of fruit and nuts and roots that were
all very good for food. Then some great disaster happened to the world and
soon it began to grow colder and many animals, and even families, perished.
Snow and ice appeared where they were never seen before. There was great
suffering from the cold. The hunters began to kill the animals for food.
They were now not satisfied with the fruit and roots, they wanted something
better.
"So the fire was much needed. But where it was, or how to get it, was the
question. Fortunately an old dreamer dreamed a dream about it. As the
council assembled to hear his dream he told them that the fire was
preserved in the heart of the earth by a magician called Sistinakoo, and
that it was kept very carefully surrounded by four walls, one within the
other, in each of which was a single door. At the first door a great snake
kept guard. At the second door a mountain lion or panther was the guardian.
A grizzly bear guarded the third door, and at the fourth and last door
Sistinakoo himself kept watchful care over the precious fire that smoldered
on a stone altar just inside this last wall.
"When the council heard all this they were almost discouraged. They thought
it would be impossible for anyone to get by all of these guards and steal
the fire.
"They first asked the fox to try, but he only reached the first door when
the great snake nearly made a meal of him. Thoroughly frightened, he rushed
back to the top of the earth and told of his narrow escape.
"For a time nothing more was done to try and get the fire. The people
continued to suffer, for the earth kept getting colder and colder and ice
and snow were now to be found in lands that had previously been comfortably
warm. So the council was called again, and the question again raised as to
what could be done.
"It happened that there came to the council a very old man who remembered a
tradition, handed down from his forefathers, which said that part of the
earth beneath us was hollow, and that some of the animals, even the great
buffaloes, had dwelt in those underground regions before they came to dwell
on the surface of the earth. He said that the coyote, the prairie wolf, was
the last one to leave, and that he was sure that he still remembered the
route to the very spot where Sistinakoo, the head chief of the regions,
guarded the fire so jealously."
"Why should they so guard the fire, and be so careful about letting people
have it, when we know how good it is?" asked Minnehaha.
"Because," replied Kinnesasis, "there was a tradition that at some time or
other the fire should get the mastery over men, and the whole world be
burned by it, and they thought that they would carefully guard it from
getting scattered about by careless people who might set the world on
fire."
"Well, go on, Kinnesasis, and tell us the rest of the story," said the
impatient Sagastao.
"So when the Indian council heard this story they sent for the king of the
coyotes and told him of their wish that he should return to that underworld
and bring up the fire for their use.
"To their surprise and great delight the coyote said he would go, and he
immediately began his preparations for the journey. So greatly had the cold
increased that he found the dark mouth of the entrance under the mountains
almost surrounded by snow and ice. After traveling for some time in the
darkness he reached the outer wall, where he waited, a little distance from
the door, until the snake was taking his usual sleep. Then he quickly
stepped past him. Knowing the habits of the other animals, he waited until
they were asleep and then he noiselessly passed them all. Even Sistinakoo
himself was sound asleep. So the coyote crept silently up to the fire and
lighted the large brand or torch that was securely fastened to his tail.
The instant it began to blaze up, as the coyote rushed out through the
first door, Sistinakoo shouted, 'Who is there? Some one has been here and
has stolen the fire!'
[Illustration: "The coyote was too quick for them all."]
"He at once began to make a great row and loudly called to the different
keepers to close the doors in the walls. But the coyote was too quick for
them all, and ere the sleepers were wide enough awake to do anything he had
passed through all the doors and was far on his way to the top of the
ground. The fire was gladly received by the people, but after some time,
when some big prairies and forests had been burned up by it, the men got
fearful that the world might be destroyed and so they intrusted it to the
care of the old magician and his two daughters, with orders to be very
careful to whom they gave any. It was from them Nanahboozhoo stole it, to
scatter it once more freely among the people as we now have it.
"But the tradition was still believed in the days of my grandfather that,
good as the fire was to warm us, and cook our food, it would yet become our
master, and do the world much harm."
Kinnesasis was thanked by all for his recital of this suggestive legend,
especially by his older listeners, who saw much in it that was in harmony
with the earlier beliefs of other nationalities.
By this time, however, the dogs in their trains were impatiently barking,
and longing to get back home for their suppers. So, after farewell
greetings to Kinnesasis and his wife, one cariole after another was loaded,
and away the happy ones sped over the icy expanse of the frozen lake.