In Indian Tents

was again heard, they agreed to retire and leave him forever in peace.

Mīko now had time for reflection; and remembered that he had already broken the Law, as given him by Mūinsq’, the old Law Maker. This was a bad beginning for getting wealthy and wise.

When his wounds were healed, he once more set out on his travels, hoping to gain from the experiences he had had as Set-cāto.

He met many of his tribe, hard at work, and content with their changed condition; but he could not rest until he reached the Witch Mountain, the home of Mawquejess, the Great Eater, of whom Mūinsq’ had told him. On reaching it, he noticed a number of narrow paths, trodden by many feet; yet seeing no one, and night coming on, he crawled into a hollow cedar which stood near a large rock, and soon fell asleep.

He was awakened by a loud purring; and he knew that “Alnūset,” the Black Cat, must be camping close by. At first Mīko was frightened; but his fear soon turned to wonder what could bring Alnūset, so near to the home of his greatest enemy; for though Chī-gau-gawk, the Great Crow, steals the game from Black Cat’s “ketīgnul,” or wooden dead-fall trap, yet Mawquejess is worse, for he watches until the wigwam is empty, then enters and eats all he can find, for his appetite is never satisfied.

Mīko’s curiosity was aroused; and, the morning being cloudy, and his lodgings very comfortable, he decided to stay where he was and watch the course of events.

Soon he saw that Alnūset had a friend with him, “Mātigwess,” the Rabbit, a hunter of the same metal; and he heard Black Cat say:

“This will be a good day for hunting. Stormy days are best for such work.”

Mātigwess replied: “I will set the trap. You can go up the mountain and hunt for big game.”

Mīko thought to himself: “I can see them from here, no matter where they go. It is growing too cold to venture out.” He watched their movements, and saw that they must be very hungry, and game scarce.

At last Alnūset came across a big Bear, at which he aimed; but the Frost had got into his bow, it snapped and broke as he bent it.

The Bear was too big for him to attack with his tomahawk, so he returned discouraged to the Big Rock.

This Rock resembled a human face, and the moss which grew on the top looked like long hair, so Mīko was not surprised to hear Alnūset address it as: “Mūs mī,” my grandfather.

“Mūs mī, if you have any pity for your grandchildren, sing one of your magic songs to call the animals together.”

At this the stony old man began to sing, and Birds, Moose, Deer, and Bear, as well as friend Mātigwess, came hurrying to hear the song.

Now Mātigwess is unlike Alnūset in that he carries two bows and three sets of arrows; and he at once began his deadly work, killing Moose, Deer, and Bear on every hand, Alnūset dragging them to his camp as quickly as he could.

The hungry and mischievous Mawquejess was watching him, and when Alnūset went for a fresh load, he would rush in and eat until he was over-full.

Mīko, from his hole in the tree, saw this thief at work; but he dared say nothing, and there were so many dead animals piled together that he thought the two hunters would never miss what Mawquejess ate.

But Mawquejess could not be content to let well enough alone. He went up to the Rock in his turn, and, imitating the voice of Alnūset, said: —

“Mūs mī, if you feel a spark of pity for your children, you will sing a song and call your animals together.”

So the old man again broke into song, and all the animals that lay dead, slain by Mātigwess, came to life and stood around the Rock, now listening to his weird song. When the song ceased, each went his way once more.

When Alnūset and Mātigwess reached the wigwam, they found all their game gone, and saw nothing but tracks and prints of large moccasins. By this they knew that this was one of the tricks of Mawquejess.

They were disgusted and depressed; but they cooked and ate what bones and bits were left from the previous day. Night coming on, they did not hear the songs of the goblins as usual, nothing but the howl of wolves following the bloody tracks.

Next morning Mātigwess, who was the more powerful in magic of the two, said to Alnūset: “I had a dream last night, and our Grandfather of the Mountain[29 - K’mūsamīs’n.] told me that Mawquejess had tricked him into singing, and also said: ‘Mawquejess will visit your camp to-day while you are away!’ ”

“Very well,” said Alnūset, “then he will not go away. We will fight, and kill him if we can.”

“No, do you go down the river and look to the trap,” said Mātigwess. “If there should be any danger, you will hear from me.”

So Alnūset set out at once; and Mātigwess cut down a hollow tree, the very one in which Mīko lay, and placed it on the fire for a backlog. He then put out the fire, so that there should be no smoke from the wigwam, and it might seem deserted. He also set a snare for Mawquejess, by bending down two large tree forks and fastening them in place with a twisted birch withe.

This done, he crawled into the hollow log to await the coming of Mawquejess. Poor Mīko, meantime, had taken refuge under some old roots.

They had not long to wait for Mawquejess, who was soon heard stealing cautiously along, examining everything suspiciously. He spied Mīko, and asked him where the two hunters were; but Mīko replied: “I saw them early this morning going towards the mountain.”

He did not add, as he might truthfully have done: “One of them came back, hoping to catch you.”

Mawquejess directed Mīko to keep watch, and warn him if he saw them returning. He then put his head into the wigwam, saw that the fire had gone out, and that there was only some dried meat hanging on poles; but this gave him courage to enter, for his appetite was keen this cold morning.

He found that his body was too big to go through the small door of the wigwam, so he took the hatchet which he always carries and began to chop a larger entrance. In cutting away the sticks, he cut the withes that fastened the snare, thus making it useless.

This alarmed Mātigwess, who had hoped to see him caught in the snare, and then kill him with his bow and arrow.

After working for several hours, Mawquejess got into the wigwam, seized the fattest piece of venison, and making a fire, began to cook it.

Mātigwess in the hollow log could bear the heat no longer. When his long tail began to scorch, he sprang out. Mawquejess caught him by the tail, and strove to hold him in the fire; but the tail broke off close to the body,[30 - Rabbits ever since have had short tails.] and Mātigwess escaped.

He found Mīko, and sent him to tell Alnūset that Mawquejess was in the wigwam devouring everything. He was nearly maddened by the loss of his dear tail, and he sang a magic song with great energy: —

“Bem yak, bem yak, bem yak – bes’m etch kīmek ipp Sānetch.”[31 - These words are in an ancient tongue whose meaning is now known to none of the Indians, the words only being retained.]

This song caused a sudden snow squall, and the woods were filled with the flakes. Each flake concealed a tiny Rabbit, to whom their chief cried out: —

“Yoat elguen” (Come this way).

All the snowflakes came toward Mātigwess, and by the time Alnūset reached the wigwam, the little Rabbits were stabbing and choking Mawquejess, who began to beg for his life, when he felt them cut off his feet.

The Rabbit chief said: “Yes, he is harmless now; we will spare his life,” and turning to Alnūset, he asked what should be done with him.

Alnūset advised them to bind him with strong withes, and tie him to the corner of the wigwam, adding, loud enough for Mawquejess to hear:

“He will make good bait for our traps when we need to use him;” and Alnūset purred, with long purrs, and swinging his tail from side to side, looked out of the corners of his eyes, expecting the others to enjoy what he thought a very good joke; but Mātigwess, with the loss of his tail, was in no humor for joking.

He sang his song for the snowflakes to disappear, and the snow at once ceased to fall.

The game had all been frightened away, and nothing was to be heard but the howl of wolves.

Mātigwess was very hungry, and the young tender leaf shoots, offered by Mīko from his storehouse, did not satisfy him.

The weather had grown very cold; all the brooks were frozen over, and as the Beaver, Muskrat, and other water animals could not come out to feed, their traps were useless, therefore Alnūset’s joke fell short of the mark.

Mīko did not care for meat himself; but he suggested to the friends: “You might kill Mawquejess and catch a Wolf, with his carcass for bait.”

Mātigwess raised his tomahawk to strike; but Mawquejess cried out: —

“Don’t kill me! Take me to the lake, and cut six big holes in the ice. I may help you yet.”