shady place in the forest, two or three dozen juicy bears, a moose, and
twenty strings of the tenderest birds, he would retire from the lodge so
far as to be entirely out of view of his grandmother, fall to and enjoy
himself heartily, and at night-fall, having just dispatched a dozen
birds and half a bear or so, he would return, tottering and wo-begone,
as if quite famished, so as to move deeply the sympathies of his wise
old grand-dame.
The place of his fast had been chosen by the Noko, and she had told him
it must be so far as to be beyond the sound of her voice or it would be
unlucky.
After a time Manabozho, who was always spying out mischief, said to
himself, "I must find out why my grandmother is so anxious to have me
fast at this spot."
The next day he went but a short distance. She cried out, "A little
further off;" but he came nearer to the lodge, the rogue that he was,
and cried out in a low, counterfeited voice, to make it appear that he
was going away instead of approaching. He had now got so near that he
could see all that passed in the lodge.
He had not been long in ambush when an old magician crept into the
lodge. This old magician had very long hair, which hung across his
shoulders and down his back, like a bush or foot-mat. They commenced
talking about him, and in doing so, they put their two old heads so very
close together that Manabozho was satisfied they were kissing each
other. He was indignant that any one should take such a liberty with his
venerable grandmother, and to mark his sense of the outrage, he touched
the bushy hair of the old magician with a live coal which he had blown
upon. The old magician had not time to kiss the old grandmother more
than once again before he felt the flame; and jumping out into the air,
it burned only the fiercer, and he ran, blazing like a fire-ball, across
the prairie.
Manabozho who had, meanwhile, stolen off to his fasting-place, cried
out, in a heart-broken tone, and as if on the very point of starvation,
"Noko! Noko! is it time for me to come home?"
"Yes," she cried. And when he came in she asked him, "Did you see any
thing?"
"Nothing," he answered, with an air of childish candor; looking as much
like a big simpleton as he could. The grandmother looked at him very
closely and said no more.
Manabozho finished his term of fasting; in the course of which he slyly
dispatched twenty fat bears, six dozen birds, and two fine moose; sung
his war-song, and embarked in his canoe, fully prepared for war. Beside
weapons of battle, he had stowed in a large supply of oil.
He traveled rapidly night and day, for he had only to will or speak, and
the canoe went. At length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents. He
paused to view them; he observed that they were some distance apart, and
that the flames which they constantly belched forth reached across the
pass. He gave them a good morning, and began talking with them in a very
friendly way; but they answered, "We know you, Manabozho; you can not
pass."
He was not, however, to be put off so easily. Turning his canoe as if
about to go back, he suddenly cried out with a loud and terrified voice:
"What is that behind you?"
The serpents, thrown off their guard, instantly turned their heads, and
he in a moment glided past them.
"Well," said he, quietly, after he had got by, "how do you like my
movement?"
He then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot every
one of them, easily, for the serpents were fixed to one spot, and could
not even turn around. They were of an enormous length, and of a bright
color.
Having thus escaped the sentinel serpents, Manabozho pushed on in his
canoe until he came to a part of the lake called Pitch-water, as
whatever touched it was sure to stick fast. But Manabozho was prepared
with his oil, and rubbing his canoe freely from end to end, he slipped
through with ease, and he was the first person who had ever succeeded in
passing through the Pitch-water.
"There is nothing like a little oil to help one through pitch-water,"
said Manabozho to himself.
Now in view of land, he could see the lodge of the Shining Manito, high
upon a distant hill.
Putting his clubs and arrows in order, just at the dawn of day Manabozho
began his attack, yelling and shouting, and beating his drum, and
calling out in triple voices:
"Surround him! surround him! run up! run up!" making it appear that he
had many followers. He advanced, shouting aloud:
"It was you that killed my grandfather," and shot off a whole forest of
arrows.
The Pearl Feather appeared on the height, blazing like the sun, and paid
back the discharges of Manabozho with a tempest of bolts, which rattled
like the hail.
All day long the fight was kept up, and Manabozho had fired all of his
arrows but three, without effect; for the Shining Manito was clothed in
pure wampum. It was only by immense leaps to right and left that
Manabozho could save his head from the sturdy blows which fell about him
on every side, like pine-trees, from the hands of the Manito. He was
badly bruised, and at his very wit's end, when a large woodpecker flew
past and lit on a tree. It was a bird he had known on the prairie, near
his grandmother's lodge.
"Manabozho," called out the woodpecker, "your enemy has a weak point;
shoot at the lock of hair on the crown of his head."
He shot his first arrow and only drew blood in a few drops. The Manito
made one or two unsteady steps, but recovered himself. He began to
parley, but Manabozho, now that he had discovered a way to reach him,
was in no humor to trifle, and he let slip another arrow, which brought
the Shining Manito to his knees. And now, having the crown of his head
within good range, Manabozho sent in his third arrow, which laid the
Manito out upon the ground, stark dead.
Manabozho lifted up a huge war-cry, beat his drum, took the scalp of the
Manito as his trophy, and calling the woodpecker to come and receive a
reward for the timely hint he had given him, he rubbed the blood of the
Shining Manito on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of which are red
to this day. Full of his victory, Manabozho returned home, beating his
war-drum furiously, and shouting aloud his songs of triumph. His
grandmother was on the shore ready to welcome him with the war-dance,
which she performed with wonderful skill for one so far advanced in
years.
The heart of Manabozho swelled within him. He was fairly on fire, and an
unconquerable desire for further adventures seized upon him. He had
destroyed the powerful Pearl Feather, killed his serpents, and escaped
all his wiles and charms. He had prevailed in a great land fight, his
next trophy should be from the water.
He tried his prowess as a fisherman, and with such success that he
captured a fish so monstrous in size and so rich in fat that with the
oil Manabozho was able to form a small lake. To this, being generously
disposed, and having a cunning purpose of his own to answer, he invited
all the birds and beasts of his acquaintance; and he made the order in
which they partook of the banquet the measure of their fatness for all
time to come. As fast as they arrived he told them to plunge in and help
themselves.
The first to make his appearance was the bear, who took a long and
steady draught; then came the deer, the opossum, and such others of the
family as are noted for their comfortable case. The moose and bison
were slack in their cups, and the partridge, always lean in flesh,
looked on till the supply was nearly gone. There was not a drop left by
the time the hare and the martin appeared on the shore of the lake, and
they are, in consequence, the slenderest of all creatures.
When this ceremony was over, Manabozho suggested to his friends, the
assembled birds and animals, that the occasion was proper for a little
merrymaking; and taking up his drum, he cried out:
"New songs from the South, come, brothers, dance!"
He directed them, to make the sport more mirthful, that they should shut
their eyes and pass around him in a circle. Again he beat his drum and
cried out:
"New songs from the South, come, brothers, dance!"
They all fell in and commenced their rounds. Whenever Manabozho, as he
stood in the circle, saw a fat fowl which he fancied, pass by him, he
adroitly wrung its neck and slipped it in his girdle, at the same time
beating his drum and singing at the top of his lungs, to drown the noise
of the fluttering, and crying out in a tone of admiration:
"That's the way, my brothers; that's the way!"
At last a small duck, of the diver family, thinking there was something
wrong, opened one eye and saw what Manabozho was doing. Giving a spring,
and crying:
"Ha-ha-a! Manabozho is killing us!" he made for the water.
Manabozho, quite vexed that the creature should have played the spy upon
his housekeeping, followed him, and just as the diver-duck was getting
into the water, gave him a kick, which is the reason that the diver's
tail-feathers are few, his back flattened, and his legs straightened
out, so that when he gets on land he makes a poor figure in walking.
Meantime, the other birds, having no ambition to be thrust in
Manabozho's girdle, flew off, and the animals scampered into the woods.
Manabozho stretching himself at ease in the shade along the side of the
prairie, thought what he should do next. He concluded that he would
travel and see new countries; and having once made up his mind, in less
than three days, such was his length of limb and the immensity of his
stride, he had walked over the entire continent, looked into every lodge
by the way, and with such nicety of observation, that he was able to
inform his good old grandmother what each family had for a dinner at a
given hour.
By way of relief to these grand doings, Manabozho was disposed to vary
his experiences by bestowing a little time upon the sports of the woods.
He had heard reported great feats in hunting, and he had a desire to
try his power in that way. Besides that, it was a slight consideration
that he had devoured all the game within reach of the lodge; and so, one
evening, as he was walking along the shore of the great lake, weary and
hungry, he encountered a great magician in the form of an old wolf, with
six young ones, coming toward him.
The wolf no sooner caught sight of him than he told his whelps, who were
close about his side, to keep out of the way of Manabozho; "For I know,"
he said, "that it is that mischievous fellow whom we see yonder."
The young wolves were in the act of running off, when Manabozho cried
out, "My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop and I will go with
you. I wish to have a little chat with your excellent father."
Saying which he advanced and greeted the old wolf, expressing himself as
delighted at seeing him looking so well. "Whither do you journey?" he
asked.
"We are looking for a good hunting-ground to pass the winter," the old
wolf answered. "What brings you here?"
"I was looking for you," said Manabozho. "For I have a passion for the
chase, brother. I always admired your family; are you willing to change
me into a wolf?"
The wolf gave him a favorable answer, and he was forthwith changed into
a wolf.
"Well, that will do," said Manabozho; then looking at his tail, he
added, "Oh! could you oblige me by making my tail a little longer and
more bushy."
"Certainly," said the old wolf; and he gave Manabozho such a length and
spread of tail, that it was constantly getting between his legs, and it
was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to find strength to
carry it. But having asked for it, he was ashamed to say a word; and
they all started off in company, dashing up a ravine.
After getting into the woods for some distance, they fell in with the
tracks of moose. The young ones scampered off in pursuit, the old wolf
and Manabozho following at their leisure.
"Well," said the old wolf, by way of opening discourse, "who do you
think is the fastest of the boys? Can you tell by the jumps they take?"
"Why," he replied, "that one that takes such long jumps, he is the
fastest to be sure."
"Ha! ha! you are mistaken," said the old wolf. "He makes a good start,
but he will be the first to tire out; this one, who appears to be
behind, will be the one to kill the game."
By this time they had come to the spot where the boys had started in
chase. One had dropped what seemed to be a small medicine-sack, which
he carried for the use of the hunting-party.
"Take that, Manabozho," said the old wolf.
"Esa," he replied, "what will I do with a dirty dog-skin?"
The old wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe.
"Oh, I will carry it now," cried Manabozho.
"Oh, no," said the old wolf, who had exerted his magical powers, "it is
a robe of pearls. Come along!" And away sped the old wolf at a great
rate of speed.
"Not so fast," called Manabozho after him; and then he added to himself
as he panted after, "Oh, this tail!"
Coming to a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young
wolves had made a fresh start after their prey.
"Why," said the old wolf, "this moose is poor. I know by the traces; for
I can always tell whether they are fat or not."
A little further on, one of the young wolves, in dashing at the moose,
had broken a tooth on a tree.
"Manabozho," said the old wolf, "one of your grandchildren has shot at
the game. Take his arrow; there it is."
"No," replied Manabozho; "what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth?"
The old wolf took it up, and behold it was a beautiful silver arrow.
When they at last overtook them, they found that the youngsters had
killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry; but the old wolf
just then again exerted his magical powers, and Manabozho saw nothing
but the bones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, "Just as I
expected; dirty, greedy fellows. If it had not been for this log at my
back, I should have been in time to have got a mouthful:" and he cursed
the bushy tail which he carried, to the bottom of his heart. He,
however, sat down without saying a word.
At length the old wolf spoke to one of the young ones, saying:
"Give some meat to your grandfather."
One of them obeyed, and coming near to Manabozho, he presented him the
other end of his own bushy tail, which was nicely seasoned with burs,
gathered in the course of the hunt.
Manabozho jumped up and called out:
"You dog, now that your stomach is full, do you think I am going to eat
you to get at my dinner? Get you gone into some other place."
Saying which Manabozho, in his anger, walked off by himself.
"Come back, brother," cried the wolf. "You are losing your eyes."
Manabozho turned back.
"You do the child injustice. Look there!" and behold, a heap of fresh,
ruddy meat, was lying on the spot, already prepared.
Manabozho, at the view of so much good provision, put on a smiling face.
"Amazement!" he said; "how fine the meat is!"
"Yes," replied the old wolf, "it is always so with us; we know our work,
and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes the hunter."
Manabozho bit his lip.
They now fixed their winter quarters. The youngsters went out in search
of game, and they soon brought in a large supply. One day, during the
absence of the young hunters, the old wolf amused himself in cracking
the large bones of a moose.
"Manabozho," said he, "cover your head with the robe, and do not look at
me while I am busy with these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye."
He did as he was bid; but looking through a rent that was in the robe,
he saw what the other was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off
and hit him on the eye. He cried out:
"Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?"
The wolf answered--"You must have been looking at me."
"No, no," retorted Manabozho, "why should I want to look at you?"
"Manabozho," said the old wolf, "you must have been looking or you would
not have got hurt."
"No, no," he replied again, "I was not. I will repay the saucy wolf this
mischief," he thought to himself.
So the next day, taking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the
wolf:
"Brother, cover your head and do not look at me, for I very much fear a
piece may fly in your eye."
The wolf did so; and Manabozho, taking the large leg-bone of the moose,
first looking to see if the wolf was well covered, hit him a blow with
all his might. The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell prostrate from
the effects of the blow.
"Why," said he, when he came to a little and was able to sit up, "why do
you strike me so?"
"Strike you?" said Manabozho, with well-feigned surprise, "no; you must
have been looking at me."
"No," answered the wolf, "I say I have not."
But Manabozho insisted, and as the old wolf was no great master of
tricky argument, he was obliged to give it up.
Shortly after this the old wolf suggested to Manabozho that he should go
out and try his luck in hunting by himself.
When he chose to put his mind upon it he was quite expert, and this time
he succeeded in killing a fine fat moose, which he thought he would take
aside slyly, and devour alone, having prepared to tell the old wolf a
pretty story on his return, to account for his failure to bring any
thing with him.
He was very hungry, and he sat down to eat; but as he never could go to
work in a straight-forward way, he immediately fell into great doubts as
to the proper point at which to begin.
"Well," said he, "I do not know where to commence. At the head? No.
People will laugh, and say--'He ate him backward.'"
He went to the side. "No," said he, "they will say I ate him sideways."
He then went to the hind-quarter. "No, that will not do, either; they
will say I ate him forward. I will begin here, say what they will."
He took a delicate piece from the small of the back, and was just on the
point of putting it to his mouth, when a tree close by made a creaking
noise. He seemed vexed at the sound. He raised the morsel to his mouth
the second time, when the tree creaked again.
"Why," he exclaimed, "I can not eat when I hear such a noise. Stop,
stop!" he said to the tree. He put it down, exclaiming--"I can not eat
with such a noise;" and starting away he climbed the tree, and was
pulling at the limb which had offended him, when his fore-paw was caught
between the branches so that he could not free himself.
While thus held fast, he saw a pack of wolves advancing through the
wood in the direction of his meat. He suspected them to be the old wolf
and his cubs, but night was coming on and he could not make them out.
"Go the other way, go the other way!" he cried out; "what would you come
to get here?"
The wolves stopped for a while and talked among themselves, and said:
"Manabozho must have something there, or he would not tell us to go
another way."
"I begin to know him," said an old wolf, "and all his tricks. Let us go
forward and see."
They came on; and finding the moose, they soon made away with it.
Manabozho looked wistfully on to see them eat till they were fully
satisfied, when they scampered off in high spirits.
A heavy blast of wind opened the branches and released Manabozho, who
found that the wolves had left nothing but the bare bones. He made for
home, where, when he related his mishap, the old wolf, taking him by the
fore-paw, condoled with him deeply on his ill-luck. A tear even started
to his eye as he added:
"My brother, this should teach us not to meddle with points of ceremony
when we have good meat to eat."
The winter having by this time drawn fairly to a close, on a bright
morning in the early spring, the old wolf addressed Manabozho: "My
brother, I am obliged to leave you; and although I have sometimes been
merry at your expense, I will show that I care for your comfort. I shall
leave one of the boys behind me to be your hunter, and to keep you
company through the long summer afternoons."
The old wolf galloped off with his five young ones; and as they
disappeared from view, Manabozho was disenchanted in a moment, and
returned to his mortal shape.
Although he had been sometimes vexed and imposed upon, he had,
altogether, passed a pleasant winter with the cunning old wolf, and now
that he was gone, Manabozho was downcast and low in spirit. But as the
days grew brighter he recovered by degrees his air of cheerful
confidence, and was ready to try his hand upon any new adventure that
might occur to him. The old spirit of mischief was still alive within
him.
The young wolf who had been left with him was a good hunter, and never
failed to keep the lodge well supplied with meat. One day Manabozho
addressed him as follows:
"My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not portend good. It
is of the large lake which lies in that direction. You must be careful
to always go across it, whether the ice seem strong or not. Never go
around it, for there are enemies on the further shore who lie in wait
for you. The ice is always safe."
Now Manabozho knew well that the ice was thinning every day under the
warm sun, but he could not stay himself from playing a trick upon the
young wolf.
In the evening when he came to the lake, after a long day's travel in
quest of game, the young wolf, confiding in his grandfather, said,
"Hwooh! the ice does look thin, but Nesho says it is sound;" and he
trotted upon the glassy plain.
He had not got half way across when the ice snapped, and with a mournful
cry, the young wolf fell in and was immediately seized by the
water-serpents, who knew that it was Manabozho's grandson, and were
thirsting for revenge upon him for the death of their relations in the
war upon Pearl Feather.
Manabozho heard the young wolf's cry as he sat in his lodge; he knew
what had happened; and, from that moment, he was deprived of the greater
part of his magical power.
He returned, scarcely more than an ordinary mortal, to his former place
of dwelling, whence his grandmother had departed no one knew whither. He
married the arrow-maker's daughter, and became the father of several
children, and very poor. He was scarcely able to procure the means of
living. His lodge was pitched in a remote part of the country, where he
could get no game. It was winter, and he had not the common comforts of
life. He said to his wife one day, "I will go out a walking and see if I
can not find some lodges."
After walking some time he saw a lodge at a distance. The children were
playing at the door. When they saw him approaching they ran in and told
their parents that Manabozho was coming.
It was the residence of the large red-headed woodpecker. He came to the
door and asked Manabozho to enter. This invitation was promptly
accepted.
After some time, the woodpecker, who was a magician, said to his wife:
"Have you nothing to give Manabozho? he must be hungry."
She answered, "No."
"He ought not to go without his supper," said the woodpecker. "I will
see what I can do."
In the center of the lodge stood a large tamarack-tree. Upon this the
woodpecker flew, and commenced going up, turning his head on each side
of the tree, and every now and then driving in his bill. At last he
pulled something out of the tree and threw it down; when, behold, a fine
fat raccoon lay on the ground. He drew out six or seven more. He then
descended, and told his wife to prepare them.
"Manabozho," he said, "this is the only thing we eat; what else can we
give you?"
"It is very good," replied Manabozho.
They smoked their pipes and conversed with each other.
After eating, Manabozho got ready to go home; when the woodpecker said
to his wife, "Give him the other raccoons to take home for his
children."
In the act of leaving the lodge, Manabozho, on purpose, dropped one of
his mittens, which was soon after observed upon the ground.
"Run," said the woodpecker to his eldest son, "and give it to him; but
mind that you do not give it into his hand; throw it at him, for there
is no knowing him, he acts so curiously."
The boy did as he was directed.
"Grandfather," said he to Manabozho, as he came up to him, "you have
left one of your mittens; here it is."
"Yes," he said, affecting to be ignorant of the circumstance, "it is so;
but don't throw it, you will soil it on the snow."
The lad, however, threw it, and was about to return, when Manabozho
cried out, "Bakah! Bakah! stop--stop; is that all you eat? Do you eat
nothing else with your raccoon? tell me!"
"Yes, that is all," answered the young Woodpecker; "we have nothing
else."
"Tell your father," continued Manabozho, "to come and visit me, and let
him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his
raccoon-meat."
When the young one returned and reported this message to his father, the
old woodpecker turned up his nose at the invitation. "I wonder," he
said, "what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!"