"Well, I will tell you," said Manabozho, "what it is."
He made an effort to speak, but it seemed to be too much for him.
"Out with it," said Ningabiun, or the West, fetching Manabozho such a
blow on the back as shook the mountain with its echo.
"Je-ee, je-ee--it is--" said Manabozho, apparently in great pain. "Yeo,
yeo! I cannot name it, I tremble so."
The West told him to banish his fears and to speak up; no one would hurt
him.
Manabozho began again, and he would have gone over the same make-believe
of anguish, had not his father, whose strength he knew was more than a
match for his own, threatened to pitch him into a river about five miles
off. At last he cried out:
"Father, since you will know, it is the root of the bulrush."
He who could with perfect ease spin a sentence a whole day long, seemed
to be exhausted by the effort of pronouncing that one word, "bulrush."
Some time after, Manabozho observed:
"I will get some of the black rock, merely to see how it looks."
"Well," said the father, "I will also get a little of the bulrush-root,
to learn how it tastes."
They were both double-dealing with each other, and in their hearts
getting ready for some desperate work.
They had no sooner separated for the evening than Manabozho was striding
off the couple of hundred miles necessary to bring him to the place
where the black rock was to be procured, while down the other side of
the mountain hurried Ningabiun.
At the break of day they each appeared at the great level on the
mountain-top, Manabozho with twenty loads, at least, of the black stone,
on one side, and on the other the West, with a whole meadow of bulrush
in his arms.
Manabozho was the first to strike--hurling a great piece of the black
rock, which struck the West directly between the eyes. The West returned
the favor with a blow of bulrush that rung over the shoulders of
Manabozho, far and wide, like the whip-thong of the lightning among the
clouds.
And now both rallied, and Manabozho poured in a tempest of black rock,
while Ningabiun discharged a shower of bulrush. Blow upon blow, thwack
upon thwack--they fought hand to hand until black rock and bulrush were
all gone. Then they betook themselves to hurling crags at each
other, cudgeling with huge oak-trees, and defying each other from one
mountain-top to another. At times they shot enormous boulders of granite
across at each other's heads, as though they had been mere jack-stones.
The battle, which had commenced on the mountains, had extended far west.
The West was forced to give ground. Manabozho pressing on, drove him
across rivers and mountains, ridges and lakes, till at last he got him
to the very brink of the world.
"Hold!" cried the West. "My son, you know my power, and although I allow
that I am now fairly out of breath, it is impossible to kill me. Stop
where you are, and I will also portion you out with as much power as
your brothers. The four quarters of the globe are already occupied, but
you can go and do a great deal of good to the people of the earth. They
are beset with serpents, beasts and monsters, who make great havoc of
human life. Go and do good, and if you put forth half the strength you
have to-day, you will acquire a name that will last forever. When you
have finished your work I will have a place provided for you. You will
then go and sit with your brother, Kabinocca, in the North."
Manabozho gave his father his hand upon this agreement. And parting
from him, he returned to his own grounds, where he lay for some time
sore of his wounds.
These being, however, greatly allayed and soon after cured by his
grandmother's skill in medicines, Manabozho, as big and sturdy as ever,
was ripe for new adventures. He set his thoughts immediately upon a war
excursion against the Pearl Feather, a wicked old manito, who had killed
his grandfather. Pearl Feather lived on the other side of the great
lake, but that was nothing to Manabozho. He began his preparations by
making huge bows and arrows without number; but he had no heads for
his shafts. At last Noko told him that an old man, whom she knew, could
furnish him with such as he needed. He sent her to get some. She soon
returned with her wrapper full. Manabozho told her that he had not
enough and sent her again. She came back with as many more. He thought
to himself, "I must find out the way of making these heads."
Instead of directly asking how it was done, he preferred--it was just
like Manabozho--to deceive his grandmother and come at the knowledge he
desired by a trick.
"Noko," said he, "while I take my drum and rattle, and sing my
war-songs, do you go and try to get me some larger heads, for these you
have brought me are all of the same size. Go and see whether the old man
is not willing to make some a little larger."
As she went he followed at a distance, having left his drum at the
lodge, with a great bird tied at the top, whose fluttering should keep
up the drum-beat the same as if he were tarrying at home. He saw the old
workman busy and learned how he prepared the heads; he also beheld the
old man's daughter, who was very beautiful. Manabozlio now discovered
for the first time that he had a heart of his own, and the sigh he
heaved passed through the arrow-maker's lodge like a gale of wind.
"How it blows!" said the old man.
"It must be from the south," said the daughter; "for it is very
fragrant."
Manabozho slipped away, and in two strides he was at home, shouting
forth his songs as though he had never left the lodge. He had just time
to free the bird which had been beating the drum, when his grandmother
came in and delivered to him the big arrowheads.
In the evening the grandmother said, "My son, you ought to fast before
you go to war, as your brothers do, to find out whether you will be
successful or not."
He said he had no objection; and privately stored away, in a shady
place in the forest two or three dozen juicy bears, a moose, and twenty
strings of the tender-est birds. The place of his fast had been chosen
by Noko, and she had told him it must be so far as to be beyond the
sound of her voice or it would be unlucky. So Manabozho would retire
from the lodge so far as to be entirely out of view of his grandmother,
fall to and enjoy himself heartily, and at nightfall, having just
despatched a dozen birds and half a bear or so, he would return
tottering and woe-begone, as if quite famished, so as to move deeply the
sympathies of his wise old granddame.
But after a time Manabozho, who was always spying out mischief, said to
himself, "I must find out why my grandmother is so anxious to have me
fast at this spot."
The next day he went but a short distance. She cried out, "A little
farther off;" but he came nearer to the lodge, the rogue that he was,
and cried out in a low, counterfeited voice, to make it appear that he
was going away instead of approaching. He had now got so near that he
could see all that passed in the lodge.
He had not been long in ambush when an old magician crept into the
lodge. This old magician had very long hair, which hung across his
shoulders and down his back like a bush or foot-mat. Noko welcomed him
kindly and they commenced talking earnestly. In doing so, they put their
two old heads so very close together that Manabozho was satisfied they
were kissing each other. He was indignant that any one should take such
a liberty with his venerable grandmother, and to mark his sense of the
outrage, he touched the bushy hair of the old magician with a live coal
which he had blown upon. The old magician felt the flame; he jumped out
into the air, making his hair burn only the fiercer, and ran, blazing
like a fire-ball, across the prairie.
Manabozho who had, meanwhile, stolen off to his fasting-place, cried out
in a heart-broken tone and as if on the very point of starvation, "Noko!
Noko! is it time for me to come home?"
"Yes," she cried. And when he came in she asked him, "Did you see
anything?"
"Nothing," he answered, with an air of childish candor; looking as much
like a big simpleton as he could. The grandmother looked at him very
closely and said no more.
Manabozho finished his term of fasting, in the course of which he slyly
despatched twenty fat bears, six dozen birds, and two fine moose. Then
he sang his war-song and embarked in his canoe, fully prepared for war.
Besides weapons of battle, he had stowed in a large supply of oil.
He traveled rapidly night and day, for he had only to will or speak, and
the canoe went. At length he arrived at a place guarded by many fiery
serpents. He paused to view them, observing that they were some distance
apart, and that the flames which they constantly belched forth reached
across the pass. He gave them a good morning and began talking with them
in a very friendly way; but they answered:
"We know you, Manabozho; you cannot pass."
He was not, however, to be put off so easily. Turning his canoe as if
about to go back, he suddenly cried out with a loud and terrified voice:
"What is that behind you?"
The serpents, thrown off their guard, instantly turned their heads, and
he glided past them in a moment.
"Well," said he quietly, after he had got by, "how do you like my
movement?"
He then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot every
one of them, easily, for the serpents were fixed to one spot and could
not even turn around. They were of an enormous length, and a bright
color.
Having thus escaped the sentinel serpents, Mana-bozho pushed on in
his canoe until he came to a part of the lake called Pitch-water, as
whatever touched it was sure to stick fast. But Manabozho was prepared
with his oil, and rubbing his canoe freely from end to end, he slipped
through with ease, the first person who had ever succeeded in passing
through the Pitch-water.
"There is nothing like a little oil to help one through pitch-water,"
said Manabozho to himself.
Now in view of land, he could see the lodge of Pearl Feather, the
Shining Manito, high upon a distant hill.
Putting his clubs and arrows in order, Manabozho began his attack,
yelling and shouting, heating his drum, and calling out in triple
voices:
"Surround him! surround him! run up! run up!" making it appear that he
had many followers. He advanced, shouting aloud:
"It was you that killed my grandfather," and shot off a whole forest of
arrows.
The Pearl Feather appeared on the height, blazing like the sun, and paid
back the discharges of Mana-bozho with a tempest of bolts, which rattled
like the hail.
All day long the fight was kept up, and Manabozho had fired all of his
arrows but three, without effect; for the Shining Manito was clothed
in pure wampum. It was only by immense leaps to right and left that
Manabozho could save his head from the sturdy blows which fell about
him on every side, like pine-trees, from the hands of the Manito. He was
badly bruised and at his very wits' end, when a large woodpecker flew
past and lit on a tree. It was a bird he had known on the prairie, near
his grandmother's lodge.
"Manabozho," called out the woodpecker, "your enemy has a weak point;
shoot at the lock of hair on the crown of his head."
He shot his first arrow and only drew blood in a few drops. The Manito
made one or two unsteady steps, then recovered himself. He began to
parley, but Manabozho, knowing that he had discovered a way to reach
him, was in no humor to trifle, and let slip another arrow, which
brought the Shining Manito to his knees. And now, having the crown of
his head within good range, Manabozho sent in his third arrow, which
laid the Manito out upon the ground, stark dead.
Manabozho lifted up a huge war-cry, beat his drum, and took the scalp
of the Manito as his trophy. Then calling the woodpecker to come and
receive a reward for the timely hint he had given him, he rubbed the
blood of the Shining Manito on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of
which are red to this day. Full of his victory, Manabozho returned home,
beating his war-drum furiously and shouting aloud his songs of
triumph. His grandmother was on the shore ready to welcome him with
the war-dance, which she performed with wonderful skill for one so far
advanced in years.
The heart of Manabozho swelled within him. He was fairly on fire and
an unconquerable desire for further adventures seized upon him. He had
destroyed the powerful Pearl Feather, killed his serpents, and escaped
all his wiles and charms. He had prevailed in a great land fight, his
next trophy should be from the water.
He tried his prowess as a fisherman, and with such success that he
captured a fish monstrous in size and so rich in fat that with the
oil Manabozho was able to form a small lake. To this, being generously
disposed and having a cunning purpose of his own to answer, he invited
all the birds and beasts of his acquaintance; and he made the order in
which they partook of the banquet the measure of their fatness for all
time to come. As fast as they arrived he told them to plunge in and help
themselves.
The first to make his appearance was the bear, who took a long and
steady draught; then came the deer, the opossum, and such others of the
family as are noted for their comfortable case. The moose and bison were
slack in their cups, and the partridge, always lean in flesh, looked on
till the supply was nearly gone. There was not a drop left by the time
the hare and the martin appeared on the shore of the lake, and they are,
in consequence, the slenderest of all creatures.
When this ceremony was over, Manabozho suggested to his friends, the
assembled birds and animals, that the occasion was proper for a little
merry-making; and taking up his drum, he cried out:
"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, dance!"
In order to make the sport more mirthful, he directed that they should
shut their eyes and pass around him in a circle. Again he beat his drum
and cried out:
"New songs from the South! Come, brothers, dance!"
[Illustration: 0039]
They all fell in and commenced their rounds. Whenever Manabozho, as he
stood in the circle, saw pass by him a fat fowl which he fancied, he
adroitly wrung its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time
beating his drum and singing at the top of his lungs to drown the
noise of the fluttering. And he all the time called out in tones of
admiration:
"That's the way, my brothers; that's the way!"
At last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking there was something
wrong, opened one eye and saw what Manabozho was doing.
"Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is killing us!" he cried, giving a spring and
making for the water.
Manabozho, quite vexed that the creature should have played the spy upon
his house-keeping, followed him; and just as the duck was diving into
the water, he gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver's
tail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs straightened
out, so that when he gets on land he makes a poor figure in walking.
Meantime, the other birds, having no ambition to be thrust in
Manabozho's girdle, flew off, and the animals scampered into the woods.
Manabozho, stretching himself at ease in the shade along the side of
the prairie, thought what he should do next. He concluded that he would
travel and see new countries; and having once made up his mind, such was
his length of limb and the immensity of his stride, that in less than
three days he had walked over the entire continent and looked into every
lodge by the way--and with such nicety of observation that he was able
to inform his good old grandmother what each family had for a dinner at
a given hour.
By way of relief to these grand doings, Manabozho was disposed to vary
his experiences by bestowing a little time upon the sports of the woods.
He had heard reported great feats in hunting, and he had a desire to try
his power in that way. Besides that, it was a slight consideration that
he had devoured all the game within reach of the lodge. And so, one
evening, while walking along the shore of the great lake, weary and
hungry, he was quite delighted to encounter a great magician in the form
of an old wolf, with six young ones.
The wolf no sooner caught sight of him than he told his whelps, who were
close about his side, to keep out of the way of Manabozho. "For I know,"
he said, "that it is that mischievous fellow whom we see yonder."
The young wolves were in the act of running off, when Manabozho cried
out:
"My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop and I will go with you. I
wish to have a little chat with your excellent father."
Saying which he advanced and greeted the old wolf, expressing himself
pleased at seeing him looking so well.
"Whither do you journey?" he asked.
"We are looking for a good hunting-ground to pass the winter," the old
wolf answered. "What brings you here?"
"I was looking for you," said Manabozho. "For I have a passion for the
chase, brother. I always admired your family; are you willing to change
me into a wolf?"
The wolf gave him a favorable answer, and he was forthwith changed into
a wolf.
"Well, that will do," said Manabozho; then looking at his tail, he
added, "Oh! could you oblige me by making my tail just a little longer
and more bushy, please?"
"Certainly," said the old wolf; and he gave Mana-bozho such a length and
spread of tail that it was constantly getting between his legs, and
it was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to find strength to
carry it. But having asked for it, he was ashamed to say a word; and
they all started off in company, dashing up a ravine.
After getting into the woods for some distance, they fell in with the
tracks of moose. The young ones scampered off in pursuit, the old wolf
and Manabozho following at their leisure.
"Well," said the old wolf, by way of opening discourse, "who do you
think is the fastest of the boys? Can you tell by the jumps they take?"
"Why," Manabozho replied, "that one that takes such long jumps, he is
the fastest, to be sure!"
"Ha! ha! you are mistaken," said the old wolf. "He makes a good start,
but he will be the first to tire out; this one, who appears to be
behind, will be the one to kill the game."
By this time they had come to the spot where the boys had started in
chase. One had dropped what seemed to be a small medicine-sack, which he
carried for the use of the hunting-party.
"Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf.
"Esa," he replied, "what will I do with a dirty dogskin?"
The old wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe.
"Oh, I will carry it now," cried Manabozho.
"Oh, no," said the old wolf, who had exerted his magical powers, "it is
a robe of pearls. Come along!"
And away sped the old wolf at a great rate of speed.
"Not so fast," called Manabozho after him; and then he added to himself
as he panted after, "Oh, this tail!"
Coming to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young
wolves had made a fresh start after their prey.
"Why," said the old wolf, "this moose is poor. I know by the tracks; in
that way I can always tell whether they are fat or not."
A little farther on, one of the young wolves, in dashing at the moose,
had broken a tooth on a tree.
"Manabozho," said the old wolf, "one of your grandchildren has shot at
the game. Take his arrow; there it is."
"No," replied Manabozho; "what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth?"
The old wolf took it up, and behold it was a beautiful silver arrow.
When they at last overtook them, they found that the youngsters had
killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was exceedingly hungry; but the
old wolf just then again exerted his magical powers, and Manabozho saw
nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, "Just
as I expected! Dirty, greedy fellows! If it had not been for this log
at my back, I should have been in time to have got a mouthful;" and he
cursed the bushy tail which he carried, to the bottom of his heart. He,
however, sat down without saying a word.
At length the old wolf spoke to one of the young ones, saying:
"Give some meat to your grandfather."
One of them obeyed, and coming near to Manabozho, he presented him the
other end of his own bushy tail, which was nicely seasoned with burrs
gathered in the course of the hunt.
Manabozho jumped up and called out:
"You dog, now that your stomach is full, do you think I am going to eat
you to get at my dinner? Get you gone into some other place."
Saying which, Manabozho, in his anger, walked off by himself.
"Come back, brother," cried the wolf. "You are losing your eyes."
Manabozho turned back.
"You do the child injustice. Look there!" and behold, a heap of fresh,
ruddy meat was lying on the spot, already prepared.
Manabozho, at the view of so much good provision, put on a smiling face.
"Amazement!" he said; "how fine the meat is!"
"Yes," replied the old wolf, "it is always so with us; we know our work
and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes the hunter."
Manabozho hit his lip.
They now fixed their winter quarters. The youngsters went out in search
of game, and they soon brought in a large supply. One day, during the
absence of the young hunters, the old wolf amused himself in cracking
the large bones of a moose.
"Manabozho," said he, "cover your head with the robe, and do not look at
me while I am busy with these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye."
Manabozho did as he was bid; but looking through a rent in the robe, he
saw what the other was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off and
hit him on the eye. He cried out:
"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?"