cared for no maiden.
One day, as he followed a deer through the forest, he went far away
from his lodge; far away from his usual hunting ground. Beyond the
forest he saw an open space where the grass grew green, and yellow
blossoms studded it like stars in the sky.
Waupee passed swiftly through the forest until he came to the open
space, and there, as he looked about, he discovered a curious thing.
It was a circle, where the grass bent down as though many feet had
passed lightly over it. He wondered what dancing feet could have made
this circle in the grass. And he wondered still more when he looked
all about and could find no trace of a footstep outside it.
“How did they come? How did they go?” questioned Waupee in amazement.
“I must know more of this.”
So he hid himself among the trees in the edge of the forest and
waited.
He had hunted long: the drowsy insects droned about him, and at length
Waupee fell asleep. Soon he was aroused by the sound of tinkling
music. It was like the ringing of a silver bell.
He started up and listened. It seemed to come from the sky. He looked
up; then he stood still and waited.
Directly over the circle upon the prairie grass there was descending
something--Waupee knew not what. It was like a boat, but its colors
were like the colors of a sea shell, changing from silver to green, to
pink, and to blue.
The wonderful boat came to rest in the center of the circle, and out
of it stepped twelve maidens, more beautiful than any Waupee had seen
before.
Taking hold of hands, they danced lightly round and round, while the
silver bells kept time to their steps. Their eyes were bright as the
stars, and a star rested upon the breast of each maiden. But though
all were beautiful, Waupee was attracted by one alone, and she was the
youngest.
“I must have this maiden for my own!” cried Waupee. He ran from the
shelter of the trees and would have clasped her in his arms, but he
was too late.
The startled maidens sprang into their boat, which lifted instantly
and carried them away.
Waupee watched until they disappeared among the clouds. Then slowly he
returned to his lodge, but he could think only of the beautiful maiden
with eyes like stars, and he determined to use all his powers to win
her.
The next day, at the same hour, he was again at the edge of the
forest, but this time he had changed to the form of the white hawk,
whose name he bore.
“I will wait until they dance,” he said to himself, “and then I will
fly to the maiden of my choice. I will change to my own form and clasp
her in my arms.”
So Waupee waited, and as before he heard music like the tinkling of
silver bells, and the boat with its changing silvery colors floated
down within the circle.
Out stepped the twelve maidens and began their dance.
Waupee was too eager to wait, and he flew at once from the tree. But
the moment the maidens heard the sound of his wings, they sprang into
their boat and were carried swiftly back to the sky.
Waupee, resuming his form as a man, sat down in the forest, and drew
his blanket over his head, as the Indians do when they mourn. He
feared that the maidens would nevermore return.
But after a time his courage and hope came back, and he determined
that he would not give up until he had captured the maiden who had won
his heart.
On the third day he was again at the edge of the forest, and there he
noticed the half-decayed stump of a tree. In and out, about the
stump, a dozen field mice were playing.
“Now you must help me, little brothers,” said Waupee. He lifted the
stump and set it down near the magic circle in the field. The little
field mice continued to play about it as before. Waupee changed
himself into the form of a field mouse, and began running about with
the others.
He soon heard the tinkling music, and looking up saw once more the
silvery boat floating down from the sky.
When it touched the earth the star maidens sprang out and began their
dance. But one of them saw the old stump.
“That was not there before!” she cried, and running from the circle
she looked closely at it.
“Let us return!” said the youngest maiden, but the others replied,
“But look! Here are field mice running about. Let us chase them!”
The little mice ran in all directions, and the maidens ran after them,
laughing, and threatening them with their silver wands.
And the one that the youngest maiden chased ran far from the others.
Then, just as the maiden reached him, and would have struck him with
her wand, the little field mouse changed suddenly to the form of a
man,--and it was Waupee.
He caught the maiden in his arms, and he told her how she had won his
heart by her loveliness, and begged her to stay with him.
The other maidens, frightened at the sight of Waupee, sprang into
their boat, and it rose and bore them away.
Then the youngest maiden wept, but Waupee comforted her, for he was
strong and brave, and a mighty hunter. And her heart was won, and she
went with him to the village.
So Waupee was wedded to the Star Maiden, and she was the loveliest
maiden in all the tribe.
The next year Waupee and his bride were made still happier by the
coming of a baby boy, and the White Hawk was the proudest father in
all the tribe.
But after many moons had passed, the Star Maiden grew lonely for her
father, and for the scenes of her star home in the sky. And so, one
day, she took her little son by the hand and led him to the magic
circle in the grass of the prairie. In the center of the circle she
placed a boat which she had woven from the grass and rushes of the
meadow, and she and her little son stepped into it. Then she sang the
song of the silvery bells which had been always in her heart, and the
boat of woven rushes began to rise.
[Illustration: “WAUPEE HEARD THE STRAINS OF THE MAGIC SONG”]
Up and up it went until it carried the Star Maiden and her son far
away to the Sky Land.
Waupee, far away at the chase, heard the strains of the magic song and
ran to the spot, but he was too late. He saw the boat with its
occupants disappear among the clouds, and then he sat down upon the
prairie, covered his head with his blanket, and mourned. And no one in
all the tribe could comfort him.
The Star Maiden and her son were welcomed by her father, and for some
time they were happy. Then the boy began to long for his father, the
White Hawk, who was so strong and brave. And his mother, too, secretly
longed for Waupee and the home he had made for her.
One day her father, who had noticed, said to her, “Go, my daughter,
back to the Earth country. Tell your husband that I want him to visit
me in the land of stars, and bring him here to dwell with you and your
son. But before he comes have him shoot one of every kind of bird and
beast, and bring a specimen of each to our Sky Land.”
So the Star Maiden gladly took her son and stepped into her boat. Then
singing the magic song which was always in her heart, they were
carried back to Earth.
Waupee’s heart leaped up like a deer when he heard the music of the
song, and running to the magic circle he clasped his wife and his son
in his strong, loving arms.
The Star Maiden gave him the message from her father, and though
Waupee loved the forests and the prairies, he prepared to go to the
Sky Land. He hunted day after day, and from each bird or animal that
he shot he cut a wing, or a foot, or a tail, to carry with him. At
last he was ready, and with the Star Maiden and their son, he stepped
into the magic boat and was carried far up to the land of stars.
All the people of that far-off country gathered to greet him, and to
welcome the return of the Star Maiden and her boy. Her father took the
great bundle of strange objects that Waupee had brought, and he said
to his people: “Come, I will let you choose! Those of you who wish to
stay in the Star Land may remain as you are. The others may select one
object from this strange bundle, and according to your choice, so
shall you be in the future.”
Many of the people crowded forward, and one took the tail of a deer,
and immediately he was changed into a deer, and bounded away to the
Earth country. Another took the claw of a bear, and at once he became
a bear, and shuffled off to find his way to the Earth. And so it was
with the choice of every one. Some became birds and flew away.
“Come,” said Waupee, to the Star Maiden, “let me choose the wing of
the White Hawk, and do you the same, and our son. Then we may visit
both the Earth and the Sky, and be always together.”
So they chose. And so they have lived, ever since.
HOW MOSQUITOES CAME TO BE
(Iroquois)
IN the long-ago time, the Red Men tell us that their fathers were
greatly troubled by the visits of an enormous bird called Mosquito. No
one knew whence it came, or where it went. But always it brought
terror and destruction.
Sometimes it would fly over the growing corn and with the great force
of its wings beat it all to the earth. Sometimes it would swoop down
and strike a child playing beside the lodge. Again it would come
swiftly and throw a man or a woman of the tribe to the earth, and
leave them bleeding and torn.
At length its visits became so frequent that the people were afraid to
leave their lodges, and so a great council was called, to see what
could be done to get rid of the monster.
At this council one of the young braves said, “I will go out and try
to snare the bird. I will offer my life to save my people.”
[Illustration: “WITH A TERRIBLE CRY THE GREAT MOSQUITO FLEW DOWN WITH
HIS ENORMOUS WINGS OUTSTRETCHED”]
The young man cut strong bands of rawhide. He said, “I will try to
throw one of these bands about the great bird, and snare him before he
ends my life. Then you must come and kill him.”
So the young brave started out, and when he reached a bare place on
the mountain side he sat down on the ground and sang his death-song
while he waited.
Presently, with a terrible cry, the great Mosquito flew down with his
enormous wings outstretched, and just as he buried his talons in the
young warrior’s flesh, the brave youth sprang erect, threw one of the
rawhide thongs about the foot of the bird and bound him to the rock.
The men of the tribe who had watched the conflict ran to the mountain
side and let fly their arrows. Soon the great Mosquito lay dead upon
the rocks.
There was great rejoicing in the village. The news was spread by
runners, so that braves both young and old came from neighboring
tribes to see the body of the monstrous bird.
“The body should be burned,” counseled one of the old men of the
tribe; but so proud were they of the young warrior who had given his
life to free the Red Men of this great foe, and so eager were they to
show the huge size of the monster, that they gave no heed to his
advice.
One day they noticed that small stinging flies began to buzz about.
Nothing like them had ever been seen before. Their number increased,
and then the people noticed that they came from the body of the great
bird. And the insects bit and stung them.
“It is a new plague,” said the Indians. “We should have given heed to
the counsel of the old man of the tribe, and burned the body, for we
know that all evil things are cleansed by fire.”
And so the little stinging insects were called mosquitoes, and to this
day they are a trouble and an annoyance to mankind.
HOW BIRDS AND FAIRIES CAME TO BE
(Algonquin)
ONCE--oh, a very long time ago--there were no birds and no fairies
upon the earth. Now I will tell you a story of their beginning, as the
Indian grandmothers tell it to the Red children.
Ten beautiful sisters lived in the lodge of their father, and no
maidens in all the tribe were so good to look upon as they.
Young warriors came and sought them in marriage, and one by one the
sisters went away to the lodges of their husbands, until only one was
left in the lodge of her father.
This one was Oweenee, the youngest of all, and the most beautiful.
Many warriors had sought her favor, but she was not easily won. Her
sisters mocked her, but she cared not for that. “I shall know when the
right suitor comes,” she said to her own heart, and went about her
duties in her father’s lodge.
One day an old man came to the lodge door and talked with the
youngest sister, and though he seemed old and bent with years, her
heart told her, “He is the one for whom you have waited.” And so, when
he asked her to go to his lodge and be his wife, she consented.
Her sisters mocked her more than before, but they and their husbands
went with Oweenee and the old man along the path.
The married sisters led the way, and the old man, whose name was
Osseo, and the youngest sister, Oweenee, walked behind, and the girl
was kind and thoughtful, and watched the steps of Osseo with care.
But what was her surprise, as they were about to pass a hollow log, to
see him suddenly dart into its open end and almost immediately come
from the farther end--not old and bent, but the youngest, the
strongest, and the most active of all the warriors in the company.
Then he took the hand of the youngest sister, and together they led
the way to his lodge.
The eyes of the youngest sister were bright with happiness, but the
older sisters were dumb with astonishment.
When they entered the lodge of Osseo, they found a feast prepared. The
food was plain, and the dishes were of wood. The lodge, too, seemed
shabby and poor. But while they ate, the lodge began gently to rise
from the ground. Up and up it went, and its shabby sides began to
gleam like silver. The food became the richest and choicest, and the
dishes became like shells of radiant colors.
Up and up the lodge continued to go, until at last it reached the Sky
Land, and stopped before the doorway of the Evening Star.
The Evening Star greeted them and spoke to Osseo. Then the sisters and
their husbands, who had scoffed at Oweenee, knew that the old man whom
she had married was no other than Osseo, the Son of the Evening Star.
And Evening Star said, “You and your beautiful bride are welcome to my
lodge, but these others who have scoffed at her and at you may not
come inside. They may stay at the lodge door.”
Then the lodge of Osseo became a wonderful silver cage, and the
sisters and their husbands were changed into singing birds, with
plumage of brightest colors, blue, and red, and orange, and scarlet.
And they flew about in their silver cage, and sang to Osseo and his
bride.
Now Osseo grew stronger and more manly day by day, and his bride grew
sweeter and lovelier to look upon. After many moons had come and gone
there came to Osseo and his wife a little son. As the boy grew he
seemed brighter than the starlight, and Osseo and Oweenee loved him
dearly; but his grandfather, the Evening Star, loved him best of all.
One day Evening Star said to Osseo, “You must be careful not to let
the light beams from the small Star that dwells near by fall upon the
cage of singing birds, or upon yourself, or your wife, or your son.
The Star is an evil spirit, and the light beams are his enchanted
arrows. They change the form of all those upon whom they fall.”
So Osseo promised to be careful. But after many moons had passed, he
forgot about the light beams of the Star neighbor.
He made a bow and arrows for his little son, who loved to play at
shooting. Then one day the boy said, “I want to shoot some living
thing. How shall I learn to be a hunter if I have no game to shoot?”
“I will open the silver cage,” said Osseo, “and you may shoot at the
flying birds.”
Then the little boy was pleased, and he drew his bow, and Osseo
opened the door of the cage.
Out flew the birds, glad to stretch their wings, and the boy sped his
arrow after them. But swifter than his arrow was the light beam of the
little Star, and it fell upon the birds and the boy.
Immediately they became enchanted. The birds flew swiftly down to
earth and lighted upon an island in the midst of a green sea, and the
little boy, the grandson of Evening Star, floated softly down after
them.
Then Osseo was full of sorrow, and he said to his father, “Oh, father!
let us go also, my wife and I, that we may not be separated from our
son.”
So Evening Star permitted Osseo and Oweenee to enter the silver cage,
and silver wings were given it, and it flew down to the island in the
midst of the green sea.
And then the enchantment of the little Star changed all of them to
Fairies, and joining hands they danced and sang in the starlight,
while the Evening Star looked down upon them from his far-away home in
the sky.
WHY THE ASPEN LEAVES ARE NEVER STILL
(Blackfeet)
“WHY are the leaves on the aspen tree never still, Grandmother?” asked
one of the Indian children of the old basket weaver. “I have watched
them so many times, and they always talk together.”
“You are right, my daughter. When there is no breath in the heavens,
the aspen leaves still talk.”
“Is there a story about the aspen tree, grandmother?” asked the little
girl. “Will you tell it to me, if there is?”
“Yes daughter,” replied the old woman, “there is a story about the
aspen tree which it is good that you should hear.”
Taking her basket upon her knees and continuing her weaving, the
grandmother told her story:
“Many, many moons ago there was a young warrior who was lonely in his
father’s lodge, and he said to himself, ‘I will seek a maiden to wed,
and make ready a lodge of my own.’
“So he watched the maidens of the village, and he found two sisters
who seemed so modest, and kind, and good, that he knew not which of
them to choose.
“When he went to their father’s lodge, he was kindly treated by both.
They gave him words of welcome, they smiled upon him, and they
prepared food and set it before him. Both could weave fine baskets for
the lodge, and make rich embroidery of quills.
“Many times the young brave went to the lodge, but he could not tell
which maiden would make the better wife. And at last he said to
himself, ‘I will try magic. I will get the medicine man to help me.’
“So he visited the lodge of the Medicine Man, and after a time there
came away from the Medicine Man’s lodge an old man, bent, and leaning
upon a stick. He walked feebly, and his garments were ragged. His hair
was white, and his chin quivered with age.
[Illustration: “THE OLDER SISTER LOOKED ON WITH SCORN”]
“The old man went to the lodge of the two maidens and begged a bit of
food. The younger sister asked him to come inside the lodge and
rest. Then she prepared some nourishing food and gave to him, and
while he ate it she noticed that his feet were barely covered with
pieces of skins tied about the ankle. She hastened to finish the
moccasins that she was embroidering, and gave them to him, so that his
feet should not be bruised with walking.
“The older sister looked on with scorn, and made unkind remarks. She
asked her sister why she should spend time upon a forlorn old man who
could never repay her. She laughed at his ragged garments and at his
quivering chin and feeble knees. Then in a sharp voice she bade him
begone before her lover should come from the hunt.
“The old man went away, after thanking the younger sister for her
kindness.
“A short time later, the young warrior came to the door of the lodge,
bearing upon his shoulders a deer which he had shot. Both sisters
smiled at him and bade him enter. He passed the older sister without a
glance, and laid the deer at the feet of the younger.
“As they looked down at the deer, both sisters discovered that the
young man had upon his feet the moccasins that the younger sister had
just given to the strange old man.
“‘I seek a maiden to be the light of my lodge,’ he said, ‘and by magic
I have found that one. I was the old man who came hither for shelter
and comfort, and so I learned how to escape a sharp tongue and bitter
words.
“‘But the Medicine Man’s charm has not yet finished its work,’ he
added. ‘I do not want another to suffer the fate I have so narrowly
escaped.’
“He took the younger sister by the hand and led her from the lodge.
The older sister followed, and as she stepped outside, her feet became
rooted to the ground, and she was turned into an aspen tree.
“The younger sister became the light of the young warrior’s lodge; but
the aspen tree, like the older sister, while beautiful to look upon,
has since that day had a whispering and unruly tongue.”
WHY THE BABY SAYS “GOO”
(Algonquin)
MANY, many moons ago there lived among the Red people a warrior who
was greatly respected and admired by all his tribe.
When an enemy came to attack them, this warrior was always the first
to resist. His arm was strong, and his arrows went true and straight
to the mark. He had gone alone on many a daring hunt, and had
contended with the fiercest beasts of the forest and slain them. But
greatest of all, he had fought alone with mighty giants, and overcome
them, so that his tribe was rid of their evil magic. It was no wonder
that the people thought him great.
But then, as so often follows, the warrior became puffed up with
thoughts of his own courage and power, and he was filled with pride,
and boastings.
“There is no one, among men or beasts,” he said, “who does not fear
me. All men obey me. They tremble at the sound of my voice.”
Now there was in the tribe of this warrior an old grandmother to whom
age had given great wisdom. And she thought within her heart, “Our
warrior is becoming puffed up. He thinks too well of himself. It would
be good for him to be humbled.” So among the women she said, “There is
one whom I know, who is greater than the mighty warrior. _He_ would
not tremble at his voice, nor obey his word.”
This saying was repeated to the men of the tribe, and in time it came
to the ears of the great warrior himself. Immediately he went to the
lodge of the grandmother.
“What is this, that I hear?” he enquired. “Show me who it is that will
not obey my voice! Tell me his name!”
“His name is Wasis,” replied the grandmother, “and he sits inside my
lodge.”
The warrior threw back the hanging of deer skin covering the entrance
of the lodge, and strode within. There, upon the ground, sucking a
piece of maple sugar, sat Wasis, the baby. The warrior looked at him
in surprise. He knew nothing about babies, having been too busy all
his life with battles and adventures to pay any attention to the
little people of the tribe. But here was just a tiny fellow. It would
be no trouble to get him to obey!
So without any ado, the warrior said, “Ho, baby, come here to me!”
The baby looked at him, but did not move. He repeated his command. The
baby stopped sucking his maple sugar long enough to say “Goo, goo,”
but he did not move.
Then the warrior said, “I will show him that I am to be feared, and
then he will obey me.” So he began a war dance, and uttered fierce war
cries, and Wasis opened his mouth and sent forth such piercing yells
and shrieks, that the warrior stopped in amazement. And when he had
stopped the baby began sucking his maple sugar again.
“Ho, baby, come here to me!” he repeated once more, but at that the
baby again opened his mouth and cried so lustily that the great
warrior covered his ears and ran from the lodge. “It is worse than the
war cries of the Frost Giants!” he exclaimed.
“Did he obey you?” asked the grandmother.
“No,” said the warrior. “He is a little fellow, but he is mightier
than I.”
[Illustration: “WASIS SENT FORTH SUCH PIERCING YELLS AND SHRIEKS, THAT
THE WARRIOR STOPPED IN AMAZEMENT”]
“Yes,” answered the grandmother, “Wasis, the baby, conquers us all,
and no one can resist him.”
And the baby, left alone in the lodge with his maple sugar, stopped
now and then to say, “Goo, goo!” For had he not conquered the mighty
warrior, the great brave of the tribe?
WHY THE SQUIRREL COUGHS
(Algonquin)
A GREAT trickster was Manabozho. He loved to play jokes upon his
friends of the forest.
One day he invited them all to a feast in his wigwam. And every one
came, from the woodpecker and the tiny mouse, to the great moose with
branching horns.
It was a time of scarcity of food, and all were glad to be asked to a
banquet.
But the meat that Manabozho had ready for his guests, he had prepared
by magic--though of that no one knew except himself.
When all had assembled, Manabozho gave to each a portion of meat. The
woodpecker was the first to taste of his, and as he took the delicious
looking morsel in his mouth, it turned to ashes on his tongue, so that
he was choked and began to cough. But the meat looked so good, and he
was so hungry that he tasted again, and again it turned to ashes and
choked him.
Every guest had the same experience. The little mouse, the otter, the
badger, the fox, the wolf, and even the moose tasted his portion and
it turned to ashes on his tongue.