They did so promptly, and, by the command of their father, they boiled
some corn and prepared several other palatable dishes. The savor was
most delicious to the nostrils of the hungry brother, who had not the
least suspicion of the sport that was going on at his expense.
He was faint and weary with travel, and he felt that he could endure
fasting no longer; for his appetite was terribly inflamed by the sight
of the choice food that was steaming before him.
He fell to and partook heartily of the meal; and by so doing he was
overcome and lost his right of revenge. All at once he forgot the blood
of his sisters, and even the village of his nativity; he also forgot his
father's lodge, and his whole past life. He ate so keenly, and came
and went to the choice dishes so often, that drowsiness at length
overpowered him, and he soon fell into a profound sleep.
Onwee Bahmondang watched his opportunity, and as soon as he saw that the
false brother's sleep was sound, he resumed his youthful form and
sent off the two fairy daughters and the old garden. Then drawing the
magic-ball from his back, and turning it into a great war-club, he
fetched the slumbering brother a mighty blow, which sent him away too.
And thus did Onwee Bahmondang vindicate his title as The Wearer of the
Ball.
Such was the great force and weight of the club with which he had
despatched the brother of the two wicked women that it swung Onwee
straight around, and he found himself in a large village, surrounded
by a great crowd of people. At the door of a beautiful lodge stood his
sister, smiling, and ready to invite him in. Onwee entered, and hanging
up his war-club and the enchanted moccasins, he rested from his labors
and smoked his evening pipe, with the admiration and approval of the
whole world.
With one exception only, Onwee Bahmondang had the hearty praises of all
the people.
Now it happened that there lived in this same village an envious and
boastful fellow, who had been once a chief. Always coming home badly
whipped, he had been put out of office, and now spent his time about
the place, proclaiming certain great things which he had in his eye and
which he meant to do--one of these days.
This man's name was Ko-ko, the Owl; and hearing much of the wonderful
achievements of the Wearer of the Ball, Ko-ko put on a big look and
announced that he was going to do something extraordinary himself.
Onwee Bahmondang, he said, had not half done his work, and he, Ko-ko,
meant to go on the ground and finish it up as it should he.
He began by procuring an oak ball, which he thrust down his back, and,
confident in its magical powers, he, too, called himself The Wearer of
the Ball. In fact it was the self-same hall that Onwee had employed,
except that the magic had entirely gone out of it. Coming by night in
the shadow of Onwee's lodge, this bad fellow thrust his arm in at the
door and stealthily possessed himself of the enchanted moccasins. He
would have taken away Onwee's war-club, too, if he could have carried
it; but although he was twice the size and girth of Onwee, he had not
the strength to lift it; so he borrowed a club from an old chief, who
was purblind and mistook Ko-ko for his brother, who was a brave man.
This accomplished, Ko-ko raised a terrible tumult with his voice and a
great dust with his heels, and set out.
He had traveled all day, when he came to a small wigwam, on looking into
which he discovered a very old woman sitting alone by the fire; just as
Onwee had before.
This is the wigwam, said Ko-ko, and this is the old woman.
"What are you looking for?" asked the old woman.
"I want to find the lodge with the wicked young women in it, those who
slay travelers and steal their trappings," answered Ko-ko.
"You mean the two young women who lived in the flying lodge?" asked the
old woman.
"The same," answered Ko-ko. "I am going to kill them."
With this he gave a great flourish with his borrowed club, and looked as
desperate and murderous as he could.
"They were slain yesterday by The Wearer of the Ball," said the old
woman.
Ko-ko looked around for the door in a very owlish way and heaved a short
hem from his chest. Then he acknowledged that he had heard something to
that effect down in one of the villages.
"But there's the brother. I'll have a chance at him," said Ko-ko.
"He is dead, too," said the old woman.
"Is there then nobody left for me to kill!" cried Ko-ko. "Must I then go
back without any blood upon my hands?"
He made as if he could shed tears over his sad mishap.
"The father is still living; and you will find him in the lodge, if you
have a mind to call on him. He would like to see the Owl," the old woman
added.
"He shall," replied Ko-ko. "Have you any bones about the house; for I
suppose I shall have to climb that tree."
"Oh, yes; plenty," answered the old woman. "You can have as many as you
want."
And she gave him a handful of fish-bones, which Ko-ko thrust into his
bosom, taking them to be the Invisible Tallies which had helped Onwee
Bahmondang in climbing the magical tree.
"Thank you," said Ko-ko, taking up his club and striding toward the
door.
"Will you not have a little advice," said the old woman. "This is a
dangerous business you are going on."
Ko-ko turned about and laughed to scorn the proposal. Then putting forth
his right foot from the lodge first, an observance in which he had great
hopes, he started for the lodge of the wicked father.
Ko-ko ran very fast, as if he feared he should lose the chance of
massacring any member of the wicked family, and soon came in sight of
the lodge hanging upon the tree.
He then slackened his pace and crept forward with a wary eye, lest
somebody might chance to be looking out at the door. All was still up
there, however, and Ko-ko clasped the tree and began to climb.
Away went the lodge, and up went Ko-ko, puffing and panting, after it.
And it was not a great while before the Owl had puffed and panted away
all the wind he had to spare; and yet the lodge kept flying aloft,
higher, higher. What was to be done!
Ko-ko, of course, bethought him of the bones, for that was just what, as
he knew, had occurred to Onwee Bahmondang under the like circumstances.
He had the bones in his bosom; but first it was necessary for him to be
a squirrel. He immediately called on several guardian spirits whom he
knew of by name, and requested them to convert him into a squirrel.
But not one of all of them seemed to pay the slightest attention to
his request; for there he hung, the same heavy-limbed, big-headed,
be-clubbed, and be-blanketed Ko-ko as ever.
He then desired that they would turn him into an opossum; an application
which met with the same luck as the previous one. After this he
petitioned to be a wolf, a gophir, a dog, or a bear--if they would be so
obliging. The guardian spirits were either all deaf, or indifferent to
his wishes, or absent on some other business.
Ko-ko, in spite of all his begging and supplication and beseeching, was
obliged to be still Ko-ko.
"However, the bones are good," he said to himself. "I shall get a nice
rest, at any rate, if I am forced to climb as I am."
With this he drew out one of the bones from his bosom, and shouting
aloud, "Ho! ho! who is there?" he thrust it into the trunk of the tree
and would have indulged himself in a rest; but being no more than a
common fish-bone, without the slightest savor of magic in it, it snapped
with Ko-ko, who came tumbling down, with the door of the lodge, which he
had shaken loose, rattling after him.
"Ho! ho! who is there?" cried the wicked father, making his appearance
at the opening and looking down.
"It is I, Onwee Bahmondang!" cried Ko-ko, thinking to frighten the
wicked father.
"Ah! it is you, is it? I will be there presently," called the old man.
"Do not be in haste to go away!"
Ko-ko, observing that the old man was in earnest, scrambled up from the
ground and set off promptly at his highest rate of speed.
When he looked back and saw that the wicked father was gaining upon him,
Ko-ko mounted a tree, as had Onwee Bahmondang before. Then he fired off
a number of arrows, but as they were no more than common arrows, he got
nothing by it, but was obliged to descend and run again for his life.
As he hurried on he encountered the skeleton of a moose, into which he
would have transformed himself; but not having the slightest confidence
in any one of all the guardians who should have helped him, he passed
on.
The wicked father was hot in pursuit and Ko-ko was suffering terribly
for lack of wind, when luckily he remembered the enchanted moccasins. He
would not send them to the end of the earth, as had Onwee Bahmondang.
"I will improve on that dull fellow," said Ko-ko. "I will put them on
myself."
Accordingly, Ko-ko had just time to draw on the moccasins when the
wicked father came in sight.
"Go now!" cried Ko-ko, giving orders to the enchanted moccasins; and go
they did. But to the astonishment of the Owl, they turned immediately
about in the way in which the wicked father was furiously approaching.
"The other way! the other way!" cried Ko-ko.
Cry as loud as he would, the enchanted moccasins would keep on in their
own course; and before he could shake himself out of them, they had run
him directly into the face of the wicked father.
"What do you mean, you Owl?" cried the wicked father, falling upon Ko-ko
with a huge club, and counting his ribs at every stroke.
"I cannot help it, good man," answered Ko-ko. "I tried my best--"
Ko-ko would have gone the other way, but the enchanted moccasins kept
hurrying him forward.
"Stand off, will you?" cried the old man.
By this time the moccasins were taking him past, allowing the wicked
father chance to bestow no more than five-and-twenty more blows upon
Ko-ko.
"Stop!" cried the old man again. "You are running away. Ho! ho! you are
a coward!"
"I am not, good man," answered Ko-ko, carried away by the magical shoes,
"I assure you." But ere he could finish his avowal, the moccasins had
hurried him out of sight.
"At any rate, I shall soon be home at this speed," said Ko-ko to
himself.
The moccasins seemed to know his thoughts; for just then they gave a
sudden leap, slipped away from his feet, and left the Owl flat upon
his back! while they glided home by themselves to the lodge of Onwee
Bahmondang, where they belonged.
A party of hunters passing that way after several days, found Ko-ko
sitting among the bushes, looking greatly bewildered. When they inquired
of him how he had succeeded with the wicked father at the lodge, he
answered that he had demolished the whole establishment, but that his
name was not Ko-ko, but Onwee Bahmondang; saying which, he ran away into
the woods, and was never seen more.
[Illustration: 0255]