quiet satisfaction. "There are many stories of his dealings with the
animal people. He loves to go among them and even to take their shape,
that he may make fools of them the more easily. This may do very well
for a time, but it is generally not long before he is ready to cry
'Enough!'"
UNKTOMEE AND THE ELK
It was midsummer, and the Elk people were feasting in great numbers upon
the slopes of the mountain. Sleek, fat and handsome, they browsed hither
and thither off the juicy saplings and rich grass, drank their fill from
the clear mountain streams, and lay down to rest at their ease in the
green shade through the heat of the day.
Unktomee, who had been travelling far and was hungry and foot-sore,
looked upon them with envy.
"Ah," said he to himself, "that is the life for me! Surely these are the
happiest people on earth, for they have all things in abundance and are
so fleet of foot that they need fear no danger!"
Accordingly, he hid his bow and quiver full of arrows in a hollow tree,
with all of his clothing and other weapons, so that he might appear
quite naked and harmless before the timid Elk people. They saw that he
was unarmed, and they stood still as he approached.
"Here comes Unktomee," said they doubtfully to one another.
"Ah, brothers!" he pleaded with them, "you have enough; you are at peace
with the tribes; you overlook the valley and all its dwellers are below
you! None is so happy as you. Will you not make me one of you?"
"Friend!" exclaimed their leader, "you do not know what you ask! To be
sure, it is now midsummer; our clothing and our weapons are new, there
is food in plenty, and we may seem to be happy. However, our antlers,
our only weapons, are yet soft, and the Wolf and the Wild Cat are ready
and fearless to attack us. Our only hope of escape is in our fleetness,
since we are watched all day by the cruel eyes of those who live upon
flesh, of whom the most dangerous of all is Man!"
"I know all this," replied Unktomee. "Others may have stronger weapons
than you, but I see none with your beauty, your stately height, your
freedom and ease of life. I beg of you to allow me to share it!"
"If you can pass the test, we will admit you," they said at last.
"Notice our eyes--we must be ever watchful; our ears--they are
constantly on guard! Can you smell an enemy even against the wind? Can
you detect his footfall before he is near?"
Unktomee passed the test and was finally admitted to the company of the
Elks; in fact, he was made the chief of them all, for such he wanted to
be.
"Now," said they, "we have made you our leader. You must guide us so
that we shall be safe from the hunters!"
Proud of his long limbs and of his stately antlers, he led them all down
the hill, running back now and then to urge the hindermost ones into
line. When they stopped to rest, he lay down a little apart from the
others, under a spreading oak.
Suddenly they all sprang up and fled, for Unktomee had cried out to
them:
"Fly! fly! I am struck by an arrow!"
But when no hunter appeared, they were provoked, and grumbled among
themselves:
"Unktomee is deceiving us; it was only a stick that fell from the tree!"
Then they all lay down a second time, and a second time the Elks were
aroused in vain. They were still more displeased, and said to one
another:
"It was only an acorn that fell upon him while he slept!"
A third time they lay down, but this time the Elks stole away from
Unktomee and left him sleeping, for they had scented the hunter. When
the hunter came, therefore, he found only the chief Elk still sleeping,
and he let fly an arrow and wounded him severely.
Unktomee was now in great fear and pain, and he bitterly regretted that
he had become an Elk, for he had learned that their life is full of
anxiety. The Elks had taught him that it is well to be content with our
own, for there is no life that is free from hardship and danger.
ELEVENTH EVENING
THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE
ELEVENTH EVENING
"You are late to-night, my grandchildren," grumbles the good old wife of
Smoky Day, as she stands in front of her low doorway, peering under the
folds of her dark blanket at the little toiling figures slowly coming
nearer, and the many twinkling lights across the snow.
"My mother gave a feast to-day," murmurs Tanagela, in her soft voice.
"There were so many people for us to serve--I could not come any sooner!
But see, grandmother! I have brought you some boiled rice and venison,"
she ends, proudly bringing out the heavy kettle from under her skin robe
as they enter the well-smoked lodge.
"Ah, ah!" exclaims the story-teller, whose old eyes brighten at the
sight of the good food. "We are to feast to-night, it seems; therefore I
shall tell you of a feast and what came after."
THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE
The big voice of the Bumble-Bee was heard in every nook and corner of
the wood, and from end to end of the deep valley, for Unktomee, the
generous, was giving a feast, and the Bee was his herald, the crier of
the day.
"Ho, every creeper, every buzzer, all ye little people who fly without
feathers, come this day to the festival!" boomed the Bee. "All must
prepare to exhibit their best skill; the Toad, who can neither fly nor
run, his brother the Bullfrog, with his band of musicians, and even the
Flying-squirrel with the rest. Tanagela, the Humming-bird, will be the
judge of beauty, and the Bat will judge your skilful performance in the
air. That wise medicine-man, the Serpent, will also be there!"
So Unktomee's herald made the cedar-fringed gulches and pine-scented
hilltops fairly hum with his call.
It was in July, the Moon of Black Cherries, and the Little People
gathered in great numbers at the place of the Singing Waterfall, which
had been chosen for the meeting-place. The happy valley buzzed with
their million voices.
Then Unktomee, the prudent, saw fit to appoint certain warriors to keep
order at the festival. For many were present, therefore mishap or
injustice might be.
The Wolf was ordered to watch upon the surrounding hills, so that no
enemy should come near; and the Owl was appointed to keep order within
the camp, and especially to see that neither the Bat, the Night-hawk
nor the Swallow tribe were permitted to disturb the little insect
people.
The day opened well, with a chorus of praise from the great orchestra--a
sunrise song, opened by Ta-she-ya-ka, the Meadow-lark, in which even the
crickets joined, with their slender instruments.
Then came the contest of beauty, in which the Butterflies, in their
gauzy dresses of every color, won the first prize. The Bat, however, who
was to judge of feats on the wing, had slyly made a meal of some of the
lesser contestants. The Owl swooped down upon him to punish him, and
there was great confusion.
Unktomee could do nothing with his guests. The Toad began to devour the
smaller creepers, the Snake attacked the Toad, and even the Wolf came
down from his station on the hills to make a raid upon the helpless
Little People. Thus began the warfare and preying among these feeble
tribes that has lasted to this day.
_It is not wise to put the strong in authority over the weak._
TWELFTH EVENING
EYA THE DEVOURER
TWELFTH EVENING
"We shall hear to-night of one good deed done by Unktomee," begins the
old teacher, when all are in their places. "In the old days, longer ago
than any one can remember, no one was more feared and dreaded than Eya,
the Glutton, the devouring spirit that went to and fro upon the earth,
able to draw all living creatures into his hideous, open mouth! His form
was monstrous and terrifying. No one seemed to know what he feared, or
how he might be overcome. Whole tribes of people were swallowed up by
him, and there was no help!
"At last came Unktomee, and by his quick wit and genial ways got the
better of this enemy of our race. He is very hard to kill, for he often
comes to life again after he has been left for dead. Perhaps by Eya is
meant the terrible hunger, or the sickness that runs like fire from
lodge to lodge and sweeps away whole villages."
EYA THE DEVOURER
Once upon a time, an old woman who was gathering wood found a lost babe
deep in the forest, and bringing him to the camp, gave him to the
chief's pretty daughter. The girl, who was very tender-hearted, took the
child and cared for him as her own.
She fed him often, but he was never satisfied and continually cried for
more. When he screamed, his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and far
down his red throat she seemed to see a great company of people
struggling in confusion. However, she told no one, but patiently tended
the strange child and carried him about with her everywhere.
At dead of night, when all in the lodge were asleep, the tender-hearted
maiden was aroused by the crying of her babe. As she bent over him,
there seemed to come from his wide-open mouth, as if from the depths of
the earth, the far-off voices of many people in distress.
Then at last she went and awoke the chief, her father, and said to him:
"Father, come and listen to the voice of my babe!"
He listened for a moment and exclaimed in horror:
"My child, this is Eya, he who devours all things, even whole villages!
This that we hear is the crying of the people whom he has swallowed. Now
he has taken the form of an innocent babe and is come to destroy us!
"We must steal away quietly while he sleeps, and travel fast and far
before morning."
In whispers they aroused the sleeping people, and all broke camp without
disturbing the child, who once more slept in the chief's teepee, which
they left still standing.
All night they travelled at their best pace, and when morning came, they
had come to a wide and deep river. Here Unktomee, the crafty one, came
to meet them, smiling and rubbing his hands.
When he had learned what caused the people of a whole village to flee in
the night, he kindly offered to help them against their powerful enemy.
Terrified though they were, they were even then unwilling, for they
feared lest he might play some trick upon them; but Unktomee persisted,
and went back upon their trail to meet the Devourer.
He had not gone far before he saw Eya hastening after the fleeing ones,
his ugly mouth gaping widely and his great, unwieldy body supported by a
pair of feeble legs that tottered under its weight.
"Where are you going, younger brother?" asked Unktomee, pleasantly.
"How dare you call me younger brother?" angrily returned the other. "Do
you not know that I was the first one created upon the solid earth?"
"If that is so, I must be older than you," replied Unktomee, in his
good-natured way, "for I was created upon the face of the water, before
the dry land itself! I know whom you seek, younger brother, and am come
out to help you.
"Those foolish ones whom you are following are encamped on the river
close at hand, and I will lead you to them presently. They cannot escape
you. Why not rest a little now, and refresh yourself with the delicacy
that I have prepared for you? See, these are human ears, nicely dried
for your meal!"
So saying, Unktomee pointed to a great heap of mussel shells that lay
upon the hill-top. The greedy monster was deceived, and hastily
swallowed the shells, which caused him such distress that he was
helpless, and was easily dispatched by the men of the village, who now
came out to kill him. No sooner had they cut open his enormous body with
their knives, than a large company of people issued forth upon the
plain, and began dancing and singing songs of praise for their
deliverance.
THIRTEENTH EVENING
THE WARS OF WA-KEE-YAN AND UNK-TAY-HEE
THIRTEENTH EVENING
"Were you not frightened last night, grandfather?" exclaims Waola, the
boldest of the boys, before the little circle has fairly settled into
quiet. "Thunder in the Moon of Sore Eyes is not heard so often! My
little sister cried bitterly, and Uncle says that it is an omen of
misfortune."
"So it would have seemed to me once, my grandson," replies the old sage,
with his pleasant smile. "But I am an old man, and I have heard the
Thunder-Bird speak even more loudly, both in season and out of season,
yet no evil came of it to our people. Truly I think that the Great
Mystery has set bounds to the terrors of these his warriors, so that we
need not tremble before them as in the old days, when their laws were
not fully known.
"There is a very old story concerning these matters, which I will tell
you to-night."
THE WARS OF WA-KEE-YAN AND UNK-TAY-HEE
Wa-kee-yan is the Great Bird of storm and tempest, who was appointed in
the beginning of things to keep the earth and also the upper air pure
and clean. Although there is sometimes death and destruction in his
path, yet he is a servant of the Great Mystery and his work is good.
Yet he rules only one half the year. The other half is ruled by
Wa-zee-yah, the Spirit of Cold, and he too purifies the air and the
water.
When Wa-zee-yah, the North Wind, the Cold-Maker, comes, the animals put
on thicker robes and some even change their color to be like the white
blanket that he lays over the earth. Then the waters are imprisoned for
a season, and all things sleep and rest.
Then comes He-yo-kah, the South-Wind, also called the Fool-Wind, he who
is the herald of the Thunder-Bird and causes all the trees and the
plains to put on their garments of green.
For ages there had been war between the Thunder-Bird, the ruler of the
upper air, and the Water Monster, or Unk-tay-hee, the ruler of the deep.
Whenever a black cloud appeared in the sky and cast its threatening
shadow upon the water, all the fishes knew it for a warning to descend
to the floor of their watery abode, the deep, dark realm, away from the
power of his arrows.
Even the sea birds must seek their sheltered coves and hiding-places,
pull tight their downy blankets and be still, for now Wa-kee-yan would
sweep sea and air with his mighty wing, and punish the disobedient.
All was quiet before his approach. His breath was the tempest, the roll
of the thunder his drum-beat, the lightning's flash his tomahawk. At his
approach, the face of the deep was thrown into a mighty commotion.
Column after column of white warriors advanced boldly upon the land, and
broke upon the rocky shores with a loud war-whoop. Such was the combat
of the Spirits of Air and Water, at which all living creatures hid
themselves and trembled.
At last the great peace-maker, the Sun, appeared, holding in his hand
the Rainbow, like a flag of many colors, a sign that the battle is over.
He sent each of the warriors to his own place. Gentle airs came down
from above to meet and play with the little waves that danced upon the
blue water. He who is our Father, the father of our bodies, whose wife
is our Mother the Earth, wishes safety and peace for all his children,
therefore he still watches the unruly ones from the middle of the sky,
and their battles are quickly ended.
FOURTEENTH EVENING
THE LITTLE BOY MAN
FOURTEENTH EVENING
"I shall now tell you of the First Man, and how he came upon earth as an
infant, yet without father or mother. Listen well, my children, for you
should never forget this story."
THE LITTLE BOY MAN
At the beginning of things, He-who-was-first-Created found himself
living alone. The earth was here before him, clothed in green grass and
thick forests, and peopled with the animal tribes. Then all these spoke
one language, and the Lonely One was heralded by them everywhere as he
roamed to and fro over the world, both upon dry land and in the depths
of the sea.
One day, when he returned to his teepee from a long wandering, he felt a
pain in his left foot, and lo! a splinter in the great toe! Drawing out
the splinter, he tossed it upward through the smoke-hole of the lodge.
He could hear it roll and rattle down over the birch-bark covering, and
in the instant that it touched the ground, there arose the cry of a
new-born child!
He-who-was-first-Created at once came forth and took up the infant, who
was the Boy Man, the father of the human race here upon earth.
Now the little Boy Man grew and flourished, and was perfectly happy
under the wise guidance of his friend and Elder Brother. Although he had
neither father nor mother, and only animals for playmates, it is said
that no child born of human parents has ever led so free and happy a
life as he. In those days, there was peace between the animals and the
Boy Man. Sometimes they challenged him to friendly contests, whereupon
He-who-was-first-Created taught his little brother how to outwit them by
clever tricks and devices. This he was often able to do; but not always;
for sometimes the animals by their greater strength finally overcame
him.
One morning the Boy Man went out from his lodge as usual to the day's
occupations, but did not return at night nor for many nights afterward.
He-who-was-first-Created mourned and wailed long for the lost one. At
last he became angry, and set out to look for the bones of his brother.
He travelled from east to west across the world, but found no trace of
the one he sought, and all of the land creatures whom he questioned
declared that they had not seen him pass by.
Next he followed the rivers, and the shores of the Great Lakes, and
there one day he heard an old woman singing as she cut down a tree at
the edge of the water. The traveller came closer to hear the words of
the song; and lo! it was a song of the scalp-dance, and in it she spoke
the name of the lost Boy Man.
He-who-was-first-Created now turned himself into a King-fisher, and so
approached unsuspected and talked with the old Beaver-woman. From her he
learned that his younger brother had been enticed into the Great Water
and destroyed by the monster of the deep, Unk-tay-hee. Thereupon he went
down to the shore and changed himself into a tall pine overlooking the
lake.
For many moons He-who-was-first-Created remained thus, until at last he
beheld two huge forms rising up in the midst of the waves. The monsters
glided gradually toward the shore and lay basking in the sun at his
feet, rocking gently with the motion of the quiet water. It was old
Unk-tay-hee and his mate.
[Illustration]
"Husband!" exclaimed the wife of Unk-tay-hee, "for ages this has been
our resting-place, and yet I have never seen this tree before!"
"Woman, the tree has always been there!" returned the water monster.
"But I am sure it was not here before," she insisted.
Then Unk-tay-hee wound his immense scaly tail about the giant pine and
tried to pull it out by the roots. The water foamed and boiled with his
struggles, but He-who-was-first-Created stood firm, and at last the
monster gave up the attempt.
"There," he declared, "I told you it had always been there!" His wife
appeared satisfied, and presently the gentle waves rocked them both to
sleep.
Then He-who-was-first-Created returned to his own shape, and with his
long spear he stabbed each of the monsters, so that with groans of pain
they dove down to their homes at the bottom of the great lake, and the
waters boiled above them, and the foam was red with their blood.
FIFTEENTH EVENING
THE RETURN OF THE LITTLE BOY MAN
FIFTEENTH EVENING
Grandfather has scarcely taken up his long pipe to-night before the
children begin to gather, impatient for the end of the story. Chatanna
has been begging his father to tell him whether the Little Boy Man was
ever found, but he has been obliged to wait for the old man to go on
with his tale.
THE RETURN OF THE LITTLE BOY MAN
He-who-was-first-Created now took the form of a swallow, and flew down
from the high cliffs, skimming over the surface of the water. Within a
sheltered cove among the pines, the water-birds were holding a least.
Some were singing, some dancing, and that great medicine-man, the Loon,
was among them, blowing his sacred whistle.
The Lonely One in the form of a swallow dipped down to the water's edge
and addressed the Loon respectfully, asking for some of the secrets of
his medicine. The Loon was very kind. He taught him several mystery
songs, and showed him how to treat the sick.
"Now," said the Swallow, "if you will permit me to take your form for a
short time, I will go down into the deep and try to cure Unk-tay-hee and
his wife of their dreadful wounds!"
The Loon made no objection, so the new-made conjurer balanced himself
upon the crest of a wave and gave his loudest call before he dove down,
down into the blue water! There in the watery world the people saw him
as it were sailing down from the sky. His path led now through a great
forest of sea weeds, now upon the broad plains, and finally he came into
a deep valley of the under-world, where he found everybody anxiously
waiting for him. He was met by the old Turtle, who begged him to make
haste, for the chief and his wife were in great agony.
"Let all the people retire, for I must be alone in order to work a
cure," declared the supposed medicine-man, as he entered the teepee of
the water monster.
All went away unwillingly--the Turtle last of all. He told the others
that he had heard the great conjurer whisper as his hand touched the
door-flap; "Ah, my poor brother!" Now this door-flap was made from the
skin of the little Boy Man.
He-who-was-first-Created, when he was inside the lodge, paid no
attention to the dreadful groans of the monsters, but at once took down
the skin of his brother, and as he did so, he saw the little Water-snake
spying at him from behind the doorway. The others, who were suspicious,
had sent him as a scout to see what the medicine-man was doing.
He called the Snake inside, and compelled him to tell where he should
find the bones of his brother. Then for a reward he painted the Snake
green, and declared that as he had served both sides, he should crawl
upon his belly forever after.
He-who-was-first-Created gathered up all the bones and took them with
him to dry land. There he immediately built a fire and heated stones for
the first sweat lodge. He also picked a bunch of sage-brush, and fetched
water in a large shell.
Having carefully wrapped the bones with the dry skin of his brother and
built over them a low shelter of willow withes, he covered the lodge
tightly with green boughs and then thrust in his right arm and began to
sprinkle water with the bunch of sage upon the heated stones.
The steam arose and filled the lodge, and with the steam there came a
faint sighing sound.
A second time he sprinkled water, and there were rustlings within as if
the dry bones were gathering themselves together.
When he put in his hand for the third time he could hear a sound like
far-off singing. Immediately after the Little Boy Man spoke in his own
voice, begging to be let out of the lodge.
SIXTEENTH EVENING
THE FIRST BATTLE
SIXTEENTH EVENING
"This is a very long story that I am telling you," declares Smoky Day,
"and many evenings will not see the end of it. There are some adventures
of the Little Boy Man that must wait for another winter. To-night I will
tell you how it happened that the old friendship was broken between man
and the animal people."
THE FIRST BATTLE
Now after some time it came about that the animals became jealous of the
greater wit of the Boy Man, and as they feared that he would somehow
gain the mastery over them, they began secretly to plot against him.
At about the same time the Boy Man began to question his Elder Brother,
and to ask him:
"Brother, why have all these people weapons, such as spears upon their
heads and daggers in their mouths, while I am unarmed and naked?"
Then He-who-was-first-Created replied sadly:
"My younger brother, the time is now come to give you weapons and I am
sorry for it. Now at last there is war in the hearts of the animals and
of man; but they are many and you are only one, therefore I shall help
you!"
Then he gave him a strong bow and arrows with flint heads, also a spear
with head of stone, and showed him how to use them.
Afterward he tossed a pebble into the air, and it came down as a wall of
rock, enclosing their dwelling. He tossed up another and another,
until they were defended by high cliffs on every side. Upon the flat
tops of the cliffs he spread out the new weapons, whose stone heads were
destined to be scattered far and wide when the battle should be over, to
be sought out and preserved by men as relics of the beginning of
warfare.
The first battle was announced by a single Buffalo-bull, running at top
speed over the prairie. This messenger assigned to each his part in the
attack. The Beaver was ordered to dam the streams, and the Badger to dig
trenches under the defences of the Boy Man, so that they might flood his
dwelling.