stories to be found. He first attracted notice by giving an account of
a water lily, a single leaf of which, he averred, was sufficient to
make a petticoat and upper garments for his wife and daughter. One
evening he was sitting in his lodge, on the banks of a river, and
hearing the quacking of ducks on the stream, he fired through the lodge
door at a venture. He killed a swan that happened to be flying by, and
twenty brace of ducks in the stream. But this did not check the force
of his shot; they passed on, and struck the heads of two loons, at the
moment they were coming up from beneath the water, and even went beyond
and killed a most extraordinary large fish called Moshkeenozha.[44] On
another occasion he had killed a deer, and after skinning it, was
carrying the carcass on his shoulders, when he spied some stately elks
on the plain before him. He immediately gave them chase, and had run,
over hill and dale, a distance of half a day's travel, before he
recollected that he had the deer's carcass on his shoulders.
One day, as he was passing over a tract of _mushkeeg_ or bog-land, he
saw musquitoes of such enormous size, that he staked his reputation on
the fact that a single wing of one of the insects was sufficient for a
sail to his canoe, and the proboscis as big as his wife's shovel. But
he was favored with a still more extraordinary sight, in a gigantic
ant, which passed him, as he was watching a beaver's lodge, dragging
the entire carcass of a hare.
At another time, for he was ever seeing or doing something wonderful,
he got out of smoking weed, and in going into the woods in search of
some, he discovered a bunch of the red willow, or maple bush, of such a
luxuriant growth, that he was industriously occupied half a day walking
round it.
[44] The muscalunge.
SHAWONDASEE.
FROM THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE ODJIBWAS.
Mudjekewis and nine brothers conquered the Mammoth Bear, and obtained
the Sacred Belt of Wampum, the great object of previous warlike
enterprise, and the great means of happiness to men. The chief honor of
this achievement was awarded to Mudjekewis, the youngest of the ten, who
received the government of the West Winds. He is therefore called
Kabeyun, the father of the winds. To his son, Wabun, he gave the East;
to Shawondasee, the south, and to Kabibonokka, the north. Manabozho
being an illegitimate son, was left unprovided. When he grew up, and
obtained the secret of his birth, he went to war against his father,
Kabeyun, and having brought the latter to terms, he received the
government of the Northwest Winds, ruling jointly with his brother
Kabibonokka the tempests from that quarter of the heavens.
Shawondasee is represented as an affluent, plethoric old man, who has
grown unwieldy from repletion, and seldom moves. He keeps his eyes
steadfastly fixed on the north. When he sighs, in autumn, we have those
balmy southern airs, which communicate warmth and delight over the
northern hemisphere, and make the _Indian Summer_.
One day, while gazing toward the north, he beheld a beautiful young
woman of slender and majestic form, standing on the plains. She
appeared in the same place for several days, but what most attracted
his admiration, was her bright and flowing locks of yellow hair. Ever
dilatory, however, he contented himself with gazing. At length he saw,
or fancied he saw, her head enveloped in a pure white mass like snow.
This excited his jealousy toward his brother Kabibonokka, and he threw
out a succession of short and rapid sighs--when lo! the air was filled
with light filaments of a silvery hue, but the object of his affections
had for ever vanished. In reality, the southern airs had blown off the
fine-winged seed-vessels of the prairie dandelion.
"My son," said the narrator, "it is not wise to differ in our tastes
from other people; nor ought we to put off, through slothfulness, what
is best done at once. Had Shawondasee conformed to the tastes of his
countrymen, he would not have been an admirer of _yellow_ hair; and if
he had evinced a proper activity in his youth, his mind would not have
run flower-gathering in his age."
PUCK WUDJ ININEES,
OR
THE VANISHING LITTLE MEN.
AN ODJIBWA MYTH OF FAIRIES.
There was a time when all the inhabitants of the earth 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 wake. She looked around her, but seeing
nobody besides her little brother, who lay asleep, 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.
The girl soon grew up to woman's estate, but the boy increased in
stature very slowly. It was a long time before he could even creep. When
he was able to walk, his sister made him a little bow and arrows, and
suspended around his neck a small shell, saying, you shall be called
Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid, or He of the Little Shell. Every day he would go out
with his little bow, shooting at the small birds. The first bird he
killed was a tomtit. His sister was highly pleased when he took it to
her. She carefully skinned 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 (Peéna), which she stuffed and set up.
After this, he acquired more courage, and would venture some distance
from home. His skill and success as a hunter daily increased, and he
killed the deer, bear, moose, and other large animals inhabiting the
forest. In fine he became a great hunter.
He had now arrived to maturity of years, but remained a perfect infant
in stature. One day, walking about, he came to a small lake. It was in
the winter season. He saw a man on the ice killing beavers. He appeared
to be a giant. Comparing himself to this great man he appeared 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, he followed him, and wielding his magic shell, cut off the tail
of one of the beavers, and ran home with his trophy. When the tall
stranger reached his lodge, with his sled load of beavers, he was
surprised to find the tail of one of them gone, for he had not observed
the movements of the little hero of the shell.
The next day Wa-Dis-Ais-Imid, went to the same lake. The man had
already fixed his load of beavers on his _odaw'bon_, or sled, and
commenced his return. But he nimbly ran forward, and overtaking him,
succeeded, by the same means, in securing another of the beaver's
tails. When the man saw that he had lost another of this most esteemed
part of the animal, he was very angry. I wonder, said he, what dog it
is, that has thus cheated me. Could I meet him, I would make his flesh
quiver at the point of my lance. Next day he pursued his hunting at the
beaver dam near the lake, and was followed again by the little man of
the shell. On this occasion the hunter had used so much expedition,
that he had accomplished his object, and nearly reached his home,
before our tiny hero could overtake him. He nimbly drew his shell and
cut off another beaver's tail. In all these pranks, he availed himself
of his power of invisibility, and thus escaped observation. When the
man saw that the trick had been so often repeated, his anger was
greater than ever. He gave vent to his feelings in words. He looked
carefully around to see whether he could discover any tracks. But he
could find none. His unknown visitor had stepped so lightly as to leave
no track.
Next day he resolved to disappoint him by going to his beaver pond very
early. When Wa-Dais-Ais-Imid reached the place, he found the fresh
traces of his work, but he had already returned. He followed his tracks,
but failed to overtake him. When he came in sight of the lodge the
stranger was in front of it, employed in skinning his beavers. As he
stood looking at him, he thought, I will let him see me. Presently the
man, who proved to be no less a personage than Manabozho, looked up and
saw him. After regarding him with attention, "Who are you, little man,"
said Manabozho. "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."
When he returned home he told his sister that they must separate. "I
must go away," said he, "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, "my sister, shall live on the mountains and rocks.
There I can see you at the earliest hour, and there the streams of water
are clear, and the air pure. And I shall ever be called Puck Wudj
Ininee, or the little wild man of the mountains."
"But," he resumed, "before we part forever, I must go and try to find
some Manitoes." He left her, and travelled over the surface of the
globe, and then went far down into the earth. He had been treated well
wherever he went. At last he found a giant Manito, who had a large
kettle which was forever boiling. The giant regarded him with a stern
look, and then took him up in his hand, and threw him unceremoniously
into the kettle. But by the protection of his personal spirit, he was
shielded from harm, and with much ado got out of it and escaped. He
returned to his sister, and related his rovings and misadventures. He
finished his story by addressing her thus: "My sister, there is a
Manito, at each of the four corners of the earth.[45] There is also one
above them, far in the sky; and last," continued he, "there is another,
and wicked one, who lives deep down in the earth. 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." He then took
his ball stick, and commenced running up a high mountain, whooping as
he went. Presently the winds blew, and, as he predicted, his sister was
borne by them to the eastern sky, where she has ever since been, and
her name is the Morning Star.
Blow, winds, blow! my sister lingers
For her dwelling in the sky,
Where the morn, 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 holla.
[45] The opinion that the earth is a square and level plain, and
that the winds blow from its four corners, is a very ancient
eastern opinion.
PEZHIU AND WABOSE,
OR
THE LYNX AND HARE.
A CHIPPEWA FABLE.
A lynx almost famished, met a hare one day in the woods, in the winter
season, when food was very scarce. The hare, however, stood up on a
rock, and was safe from its enemy.
"Wabose," said the lynx, in a very kind manner, "come here, my little
white one,[46] I wish to talk to you."
"Oh no," replied the hare, "I am afraid of you, and my mother told me
never to go and talk to strangers."
"You are very pretty," answered the lynx, "and a very obedient child to
your parents, but you must know that I am a relative of yours. I wish
to send some word to your lodge. Come down and see me."
The hare was pleased to be called pretty, and when she heard that it
was a relative, she jumped down from the place where she stood, and was
immediately torn in pieces by the lynx.[47]
[46] Such is the meaning of Wabose.
[47] Oneóta.
PEBOAN AND SEEGWUN.
AN ALLEGORY OF WINTER AND SPRING.
ODJIBWA.
An old man was sitting in his lodge, by the side of a frozen stream. It
was the close of winter, and his fire was almost out. He appeared very
old and very desolate. His locks were white with age, and he trembled
in every joint. Day after day passed in solitude, and he heard nothing
but the sounds of the tempest, sweeping before it the new-fallen snow.
One day, as his fire was just dying, a handsome young man approached
and entered his dwelling. His cheeks were red with the blood of youth,
his eyes sparkled with animation, and a smile played upon his lips. He
walked with a light and quick step. His forehead was bound with a
wreath of sweet grass, in place of a warrior's frontlet, and he carried
a bunch of flowers in his hand.
"Ah, my son," said the old man, "I am happy to see you. Come in. Come,
tell me of your adventures, and what strange lands you have been to
see. Let us pass the night together. I will tell you of my prowess and
exploits, and what I can perform. You shall do the same, and we will
amuse ourselves."
He then drew from his sack a curiously-wrought antique pipe, and having
filled it with tobacco, rendered mild by an admixture of certain
leaves, handed it to his guest. When this ceremony was concluded they
began to speak.
"I blow my breath," said the old man, "and the streams stand still. The
water becomes stiff and hard as clear stone."
"I breathe," said the young man, "and flowers spring up all over the
plains."
"I shake my locks," retorted the old man, "and snow covers the land.
The leaves fall from the trees at my command, and my breath blows them
away. The birds get up from the water, and fly to a distant land. The
animals hide themselves from my breath, and the very ground becomes as
hard as flint."
"I shake my ringlets," rejoined the young man, "and warm showers of
soft rain fall upon the earth. The plants lift up their heads out of
the earth, like the eyes of children glistening with delight. My voice
recalls the birds. The warmth of my breath unlocks the streams. Music
fills the groves wherever I walk, and all nature rejoices."
At length the sun began to rise. A gentle warmth came over the place.
The tongue of the old man became silent. The robin and bluebird began
to sing on the top of the lodge. The stream began to murmur by the
door, and the fragrance of growing herbs and flowers came softly on the
vernal breeze.
Daylight fully revealed to the young man the character of his
entertainer. When he looked upon him, he had the icy visage of
Peboan.[48] Streams began to flow from his eyes. As the sun increased,
he grew less and less in stature, and anon had melted completely away.
Nothing remained on the place of his lodge fire but the miskodeed,[49] a
small white flower, with a pink border, which is one of the earliest
species of northern plants.
[48] Winter.
[49] The Claytonia Virginica.
MON-DAW-MIN,
OR
THE ORIGIN OF INDIAN CORN.
ODJIBWA.
In times past, a poor Indian was living with his wife and children in a
beautiful part of the country. He was not only poor, but inexpert in
procuring food for his family, and his children were all too young to
give him assistance. Although poor, he was a man of a kind and
contented disposition. He was always thankful to the Great Spirit for
everything he received. The same disposition was inherited by his
eldest son, who had now arrived at the proper age to undertake the
ceremony of the Ke-ig-uish-im-o-win, or fast, to see what kind of a
spirit would be his guide and guardian through life. Wunzh, for this
was his name, had been an obedient boy from his infancy, and was of a
pensive, thoughtful, and mild disposition, so that he was beloved by
the whole family. As soon as the first indications of spring appeared,
they built him the customary little lodge at a retired spot, some
distance from their own, where he would not be disturbed during this
solemn rite. In the mean time he prepared himself, and immediately went
into it, and commenced his fast. The first few days, he amused himself,
in the mornings, by walking in the woods and over the mountains,
examining the early plants and flowers, and in this way prepared
himself to enjoy his sleep, and, at the same time, stored his mind with
pleasant ideas for his dreams. While he rambled through the woods, he
felt a strong desire to know how the plants, herbs, and berries grew,
without any aid from man, and why it was that some species were good to
eat, and others possessed medicinal or poisonous juices. He recalled
these thoughts to mind after he became too languid to walk about, and
had confined himself strictly to the lodge; he wished he could dream of
something that would prove a benefit to his father and family, and to
all others. "True!" he thought, "the Great Spirit made all things, and
it is to him that we owe our lives. But could he not make it easier for
us to get our food, than by hunting animals and taking fish? I must try
to find out this in my visions."
On the third day he became weak and faint, and kept his bed. He
fancied, while thus lying, that he saw a handsome young man coming down
from the sky and advancing towards him. He was richly and gayly
dressed, having on a great many garments of green and yellow colors,
but differing in their deeper or lighter shades. He had a plume of
waving feathers on his head, and all his motions were graceful.
"I am sent to you, my friend," said the celestial visitor, "by that
Great Spirit who made all things in the sky and on the earth. He has
seen and knows your motives in fasting. He sees that it is from a kind
and benevolent wish to do good to your people, and to procure a benefit
for them, and that you do not seek for strength in war or the praise of
warriors. I am sent to instruct you, and show you how you can do your
kindred good." He then told the young man to arise, and prepare to
wrestle with him, as it was only by this means that he could hope to
succeed in his wishes. Wunzh knew he was weak from fasting, but he felt
his courage rising in his heart, and immediately got up, determined to
die rather than fail. He commenced the trial, and after a protracted
effort, was almost exhausted, when the beautiful stranger said, "My
friend, it is enough for once; I will come again to try you;" and,
smiling on him, he ascended in the air in the same direction from which
he came. The next day the celestial visitor reappeared at the same hour
and renewed the trial. Wunzh felt that his strength was even less than
the day before, but the courage of his mind seemed to increase in
proportion as his body became weaker. Seeing this, the stranger again
spoke to him in the same words he used before, adding, "Tomorrow will
be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for this is the only way you
can overcome me, and obtain the boon you seek." On the third day he
again appeared at the same time and renewed the struggle. The poor
youth was very faint in body, but grew stronger in mind at every
contest, and was determined to prevail or perish in the attempt. He
exerted his utmost powers, and after the contest had been continued the
usual time, the stranger ceased his efforts and declared himself
conquered. For the first time he entered the lodge, and sitting down
beside the youth, he began to deliver his instructions to him, telling
him in what manner he should proceed to take advantage of his victory.
"You have won your desires of the Great Spirit," said the stranger.
"You have wrestled manfully. To-morrow will be the seventh day of your
fasting. Your father will give you food to strengthen you, and as it is
the last day of trial, you will prevail. I know this, and now tell you
what you must do to benefit your family and your tribe. To-morrow," he
repeated, "I shall meet you and wrestle with you for the last time;
and, as soon as you have prevailed against me, you will strip off my
garments and throw me down, clean the earth of roots and weeds, make it
soft, and bury me in the spot. When you have done this, leave my body
in the earth, and do not disturb it, but come occasionally to visit the
place, to see whether I have come to life, and be careful never to let
the grass or weeds grow on my grave. Once a month cover me with fresh
earth. If you follow my instructions, you will accomplish your object
of doing good to your fellow-creatures by teaching them the knowledge I
now teach you." He then shook him by the hand and disappeared.
In the morning the youth's father came with some slight refreshments,
saying, "My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit will
favor you, he will do it now. It is seven days since you have tasted
food, and you must not sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not
require that." "My father," replied the youth, "wait till the sun goes
down. I have a particular reason for extending my fast to that hour."
"Very well," said the old man, "I shall wait till the hour arrives, and
you feel inclined to eat."
At the usual hour of the day the sky-visitor returned, and the trial of
strength was renewed. Although the youth had not availed himself of his
father's offer of food, he felt that new strength had been given to
him, and that exertion had renewed his strength and fortified his
courage. He grasped his angelic antagonist with supernatural strength,
threw him down, took from him his beautiful garments and plume, and
finding him dead, immediately buried him on the spot, taking all the
precautions he had been told of, and being very confident, at the same
time, that his friend would again come to life. He then returned to his
father's lodge, and partook sparingly of the meal that had been
prepared for him. But he never for a moment forgot the grave of his
friend. He carefully visited it throughout the spring, and weeded out
the grass, and kept the ground in a soft and pliant state. Very soon he
saw the tops of the green plumes coming through the ground; and the
more careful he was to obey his instructions in keeping the ground in
order, the faster they grew. He was, however, careful to conceal the
exploit from his father. Days and weeks had passed in this way. The
summer was now drawing towards a close, when one day, after a long
absence in hunting, Wunzh invited his father to follow him to the quiet
and lonesome spot of his former fast. The lodge had been removed, and
the weeds kept from growing on the circle where it stood, but in its
place stood a tall and graceful plant, with bright-colored silken hair,
surmounted with nodding plumes and stately leaves, and golden clusters
on each side. "It is my friend," shouted the lad; "it is the friend of
all mankind. It is _Mondawmin_.[50] We need no longer rely on hunting
alone; for, as long as this gift is cherished and taken care of, the
ground itself will give us a living." He then pulled an ear. "See, my
father," said he, "this is what I fasted for. The great Spirit has
listened to my voice, and sent us something new,[51] and henceforth our
people will not alone depend upon the chase or upon the waters."
He then communicated to his father the instructions given him by the
stranger. He told him that the broad husks must be torn away, as he had
pulled off the garments in his wrestling; and having done this,
directed him how the ear must be held before the fire till the outer
skin became brown, while all the milk was retained in the grain. The
whole family then united in a feast on the newly-grown ears, expressing
gratitude to the Merciful Spirit who gave it. So corn came into the
world.
[50] The Algic name for corn. The word is manifestly a trinary
compound from _monedo_, spirit; _min_, a grain or berry; and
_iaw_, the verb substantive.
[51] The Zea mays, it will be recollected, is indigenous to
America, and was unknown in Europe before 1495.
NEZHIK-E-WA-WA-SUN,
OR
THE LONE LIGHTNING.
ODJIBWA.
A little orphan boy who had no one to care for him, was once living
with his uncle, who treated him very badly, making him do hard things
and giving him very little to eat; so that the boy pined away, he never
grew much, and became, through hard usage, very thin and light. At last
the uncle felt ashamed of this treatment, and determined to make amends
for it, by fattening him up, but his real object was, to kill him by
over-feeding. He told his wife to give the boy plenty of bear's meat,
and let him have the fat, which is thought to be the best part. They
were both very assiduous in cramming him, and one day came near choking
him to death, by forcing the fat down his throat. The boy escaped and
fled from the lodge. He knew not where to go, but wandered about. When
night came on, he was afraid the wild beasts would eat him, so he
climbed up into the forks of a high pine tree, and there he fell asleep
in the branches, and had an aupoway, or ominous dream.