|ONCE upon a time, all the people of a certain country had died,
excepting two helpless children, a baby boy and a little girl.
When their parents died, these children were asleep. The little girl,
who was the elder, was the first to awake. She looked around her, but
seeing nobody but her little brother, who lay smiling in his dreams, she
quietly resumed her bed.
At the end of ten days her brother moved, without opening his eyes.
At the end of ten days more he changed his position, lying on the other
side, and in this way he kept on sleeping for a long time; and pleasant,
too, must have been his dreams, for his little sister never looked at
him that he was not quite a little heaven of smiles and flashing
lights, which beamed about his head and filled the lodge with a strange
splendor.
The girl soon grew to be a woman, but the boy increased in stature very
slowly. It was a long time before he could even creep, and he was well
advanced in years before he could stand alone. When he was able to walk,
his sister made him a little bow and arrows, and hung around his neck a
small shell, saying:
"You shall be called Dais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell."
Every day he would go out with his bow, shooting at the small birds. The
first bird he killed was a tom-tit. His sister was highly pleased when
he took it to her. She carefully prepared and stuffed it, and put it
away for him.
The next day he killed a red squirrel. His sister preserved this, too.
The third day he killed a partridge, and this they had for their evening
meal.
After this he acquired more courage and would venture some distance from
home. His skill and success daily increased, and he killed the deer,
bear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the forest.
At last, although so very small of stature, he became a great hunter,
and all that he shot he brought home and shared with his sister; and
whenever he entered the lodge, a light beamed about his head and filled
the place with a strange splendor.
He had now arrived at the years of manhood, but he still remained a
perfect infant in size.
One day, walking about in quest of game, he came to a small lake.
It was in the winter season; and upon the ice of the lake he saw a man
of giant height, employed in killing beavers.
Comparing himself with this great man, he felt that he was no bigger
than an insect. He seated himself on the shore and watched his
movements.
When the large man had killed many beavers, he put them on a hand-sled
which he had, and pursued his way home. When he saw him retire, the
dwarf hunter followed, and, wielding his magic shell, he cut off the
tail of one of the heavers and ran home with the prize.
The giant, on reaching his lodge with his sled-load of heavers, was
surprised to find one of them shorn of its tail.
The next day the little hero of the shell went to the same lake. The
giant, who had been busy there for some time, had already loaded his
sled and commenced his return; but running nimbly forward and overtaking
him, Dais-Imid succeeded in securing another of the heaver-tails.
"I wonder," said the giant, on reaching his lodge and overlooking his
heavers, "what dog it is that has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I
would make his flesh quiver at the point of my javelin."
The giant forgot that he had taken without permission these very heavers
out of a beaver-dam which belonged to the little shell-man and his
sister.
The next day he pursued his hunting at the beaver-dam near the lake, and
he was again followed by the little man with the shell.
This time the giant was so nimble in his movements that he had nearly
reached home before Little Shell could overtake him; but making his best
speed, he was just in time to clip another beaver's tail before the sled
slipped into the lodge.
The giant would have been a patient giant, indeed, if his anger had not
been violent at these constant tricks played upon him. What vexed him
most, was, that he could not get sight of his enemy. Sharp eyes he would
have needed to do so, inasmuch as He of the Little Shell had the gift of
making himself invisible whenever he chose.
The giant, giving vent to his feelings with many loud rumbling words,
looked sharply around to see whether he could discover any tracks.
He could find none. The unknown had stepped too lightly to leave the
slightest mark behind.
The next day the giant resolved to disappoint his mysterious follower by
going to the beaver-dam very early; and accordingly, when Dais-Imid came
to the place, he found the fresh traces of his work, but the giant
had already gone away. He followed hard upon his tracks but failed to
overtake him. When He of the Little Shell came in sight of the lodge,
the stranger was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers.
As Dais-Imid stood looking at him--he had been all this time
invisible--he thought:
"I will let him have a view of me."
Presently the man, who proved to be no less a personage than the
celebrated giant, Manabozho, looked up and saw him. After regarding him
with attention, he said:
"Who are you, little man? I have a mind to kill you."
The little hero of the shell replied:
"If you were to try to kill me you could not do it."
With this speech of the little man, Manabozho grabbed at him; but when
he thought to have had him in his hand, Little Shell was gone.
"Where are you now, little man?" cried Manabozho.
"Here, under your girdle," answered the shell-dwarf. At which giant
Manabozho, thinking to crush him, slapped down his great hand with all
his might; but on unloosing his girdle he was disappointed at finding no
dwarf there.
"Where are you now, little man?" he cried again, in a greater rage than
ever.
"In your right nostril!" the dwarf replied. Whereupon the giant
Manabozho seized himself by the finger and thumb at the place, and gave
it a violent tweak; but as he immediately heard the voice of the dwarf
at a distance upon the ground, he was satisfied that he had only pulled
his own nose to no purpose.
"Good-bye, Manabozho," said the voice of the invisible dwarf. "Count
your beaver-tails, and you will find that I have taken another for
my sister"; for He of the Little Shell never, in his wanderings or
pastimes, forgot his sister and her wishes. "Good-bye, beaver-man!"
And as he went away he made himself visible once more, and a light
beamed about his head and lit the air around him with a strange
splendor; a circumstance which Manabozho, who was at times quite
thick-headed and dull of apprehension, could in no way understand.
When Dais-Imid returned home, he told his sister that the time drew nigh
when they must separate.
"I must go away," said Dais-Imid, "it is my fate. You, too," he added,
"must go away soon. Tell me where you would wish to dwell."
She said, "I would like to go to the place of the breaking of daylight.
I have always loved the East. The earliest glimpses of light are from
that quarter, and it is to my mind the most beautiful part of the
heavens. After I get there, my brother, whenever you see the clouds,
in that direction, of various colors, you may think that your sister is
painting her face."
"And I," said he, "I, my sister, shall live on the mountains and rocks.
There I can see you at the earliest hour; there the streams of water run
clear; the air is pure; and the golden lights will shine ever around my
head. I shall ever be called 'Puck-Ininee, or the Little Wild Man of the
Mountains.' But," he resumed, "before we part forever, I must go and
try to find what manitoes rule the earth, and see which of them will be
friendly to us."
He left his sister and traveled over the surface of the globe, and then
went far down into the earth.
He had been treated well wherever he went. But at last he came to a
giant manito, who had a large kettle which was forever boiling. The
giant, who was a first cousin to Manabozho, and had already heard of the
tricks which Dais-Imid had played upon his kinsman, regarded him with a
stern look, and, catching him up in his hand, threw him unceremoniously
into the kettle.
It was evidently the giant's intention to drown Dais-Imid. In this he
was unsuccessful, for by means of his magic shell, little Dais, in less
than a second's time, hailed the water to the bottom, leaped from the
kettle, and ran away unharmed.
He returned to his sister and related his rovings and adventures. He
finished his story by addressing her thus:
"My sister, there is a manito at each of the four corners of the earth.
There is also one above them, far in the sky, a Great Being who assigns
to you and to me and to all of us, where we must go. And last," he
continued, "there is another and wicked one who lives deep down in
the earth. It will be our lot to escape out of his reach. We must now
separate. When the winds blow from the four corners of the earth, you
must then go. They will carry you to the place you wish. I go to the
rocks and mountains, where my kindred will ever delight to dwell."
Dais-Imid then took his hall-stick and commenced running up a high
mountain; a bright light shone about his head all the way, and he kept
singing as he went:=
```Blow, winds, blow! my sister lingers
````For her dwelling in the sky,
```Where the mom, with rosy fingers,
````Shall her cheeks with vermil dye.
```There my earliest views directed,
````Shall from her their color take,
```And her smiles, through clouds reflected,
````Guide me on by wood or lake.
```While I range the highest mountains,
````Sport in valleys green and low,
```Or, beside our Indian fountains,
````Raise my tiny hip-hallo.=
His voice rose faintly and more faint, and at last the maiden was alone.
But presently the winds blew, and, as Dais-Imid had predicted, his
sister was borne by them to the eastern sky, where she has ever since
lived, and her name is now the Morning Star.
[Illustration: 0116]