In Indian Tents

His enemies thought that he might be a good fisherman; and as they knew nothing about such work, they decided to try his plan.

They put him on a toboggan, hauled him to the lake, and cut the six holes, as he ordered. Then Mawquejess began to whistle and call. Foam and bubbles could be seen through the holes in the ice, and soon Kiūnik, the Otters, poked out their heads, holding fish in their mouths.

Alnūset and Mātigwess now thought better of their foe, and when they had enough fish, they loaded the toboggan and hauled it back to the wigwam, with Mawquejess on top. They all spent a very happy evening together, and became good friends, although Mātigwess could never again have a long tail. When the weather grew warmer, Mīko grew tired of hearing them tell of their hair-breadth adventures, and escapes from witches and goblins.

He left them, congratulating himself that this time he had broken no law, quite forgetting that he had failed to “mind his own business” and had incurred the ill-will of Mawquejess.

The trees were putting forth buds, the young roots of the seedlings were sweet and tender, and Mīko, having laid off his heaviest fur coat, looked often in little pools of water left by the spring rains.

He never felt better in his life; and when he came upon a council held by m’téūlins, or animals having magic powers, he entered the circle unnoticed, feeling himself the equal of any of them.

The council had met to consider how they might destroy “K’chī Molsom,” the Great Wolf, who lived with the Great Bat, “K’chī Medsk’weges,” on a large island which none dared visit for fear of the Great Wolf. Mīko remembered the Wolf as an old enemy, and hoped to see him slain. He chattered approval to all that was said. On one occasion, all the witches met in council to see what they could do to conquer the Wolf; how they might contrive to kill him.

K’chī Quēnocktsh, the Big Turtle, made the first speech. Said he: “The only way we can kill K’chī Molsom is to dig a passage under the water to the island, then dig a big hole right under his wigwam, fill the hole with sharp sticks and stones; then we will dig out the rest of the ground. The wigwam will fall, and the Great Wolf will be dashed in pieces on the sticks and stones.”

The witches thought this idea a good one, but felt that the Wolf had such power that whoever stepped upon the island would perish.

K’chī Atōsis, the Great Snake, spoke next: “My opinion,” said he, “is that all the witches who can fly should go there some dark night, fly down the smokehole, bind him with strong withes before he can fight, and bring him out where all may enjoy seeing him put to death.”

Next spoke the Alligator: “The only way to kill the Great Wolf is to lie in wait for him on the other island. When he is hungry, he will go there to catch seals; and we will send our best warriors and capture him alive.”

Now the Wolf knew that they had evil designs upon him, and sent the Bat to watch, and to listen to what they had to say, and so was prepared for them.

The chief of the witches, a hairless bear, then said: “I have listened to all your plans, and think all good; but the first one suits me best. We will get ‘K’chī Pā-pā-kā-quā-hā,’ the Great Woodpecker, and Moskwe, the Wood Worm, to do the work.”

So all the woodpeckers and all the worms set to work to dig the passage.

The Great Wolf knew all that was going on, and sent the Bat every night to see what progress they made.

He ordered his troops, the Ants, to prepare flint and punk, Chū-gā-gā-sīq’, – yellow rotten wood found in hollow trees.[32 - The Indians formerly used this with flint to light their fires.]

The Ants went to work and filled the wigwam with punk, the Bat, meantime, going every few moments to watch the enemy’s progress. At last he said that they had landed on the island.

The Wolf ordered everything to be removed from the wigwam, – his bows, arrows, stone axes, spears, pipes, and the paddles of his great stone canoe, – then he took the flint and set fire to the punk inside the wigwam.

The Ants had also filled the mouth of the passage on the mainland with punk, so that all the witches who went to see the killing of K’chī Molsom might not escape but perish.

When all was ready, Woodpecker gave the signal, and the wigwam fell into the hole, to be sure; but the blaze soon filled the passage and all their hiding-places with fire and smoke.

The witches, vainly hoping to escape, ran to the mouth of the passage on the mainland, but found it also stopped with fire; and they were all burned to death.[33 - Mīko had made good his escape before the fire got to burning well; but his beautiful silky coat of brown fur was scorched red by the heat, and has remained so ever since.]

K’chī Molsom took all his men and his goods in his stone canoe, and went to the next island, where they built a strong wigwam and thenceforth lived, more powerful and more to be dreaded than before, fighting many battles with the spirits of the water.

WAWBĀBAN, THE NORTHERN LIGHTS

There once lived an old chief, called “M’Sūrtū,” or the Morning Star. He had an only son, so unlike all the other boys of the tribe as to distress the old chief. He would not stay with the others or play with them, but, taking his bow and arrows, would leave home, going towards the north, and stay away many days at a time.

When he came home, his relations would ask him where he had been; but he made no answer.

At last the old chief said to his wife: “The boy must be watched. I will follow him.”

So Morning Star kept in the boy’s trail, and travelled for a long time. Suddenly his eyes closed, and he could not hear. He had a strange sensation, and then knew nothing until his eyes opened in an unknown and brightly lighted land. There were neither sun, moon, nor stars; but the land was illumined by a singular light.

He saw human beings very unlike his own people. They gathered about him, and tried to talk with him; but he could not understand their language. He knew not where to go nor what to do. He was well treated by this marvellous tribe of Indians; he watched their games, and was attracted by a wonderful game of ball which seemed to change the light to all the colors of the rainbow, – colors which he had never seen before. The players all seemed to have lights on their heads, and they wore curious girdles, called “Memquon,” or Rainbow belts.

After a few days, an old man came to him, and spoke to him in his own tongue, asking if he knew where he was. He answered: “No.”

The old man then said: “You are in the land of Northern Lights. I came here many years ago. I was the only one here from the ‘Lower Country,’ as we call it; but now there is a boy who visits us every few days.”

At this, the chief inquired how the old man got there, what way he came.

The old man said: “I followed the path called ‘Ketagūswōt,’ or ‘the Spirits’ Path’ (the Milky Way).”

“That must be the same path I took,” said the chief. “Did you have a strange feeling, as if you had lost all knowledge, while you travelled?”

“Yes,” said the old man; “I could not see nor hear.”

“Then you did come by the same path. Can you tell me how I may return home again?”

The old man said: “The Chief of the Northern Lights will send you home, friend.”

“Well, can you tell me where or when I may see my son? The boy who visits you is mine.”

The old man said: “You will see him playing ball, if you watch.”

Morning Star was very glad to hear this, and a few moments later, a man went around to the wigwams, telling all to go and have a game of ball.

The old chief went with the rest; when the game began, he saw many most beautiful colors on the playground. The old man asked him if he saw his son among the players, and he said that he did. “The one with the brightest light on his head is my son.”

Then they went to the Chief of the Northern Lights, and the old man said: “The Chief of the Lower Country wishes to go home, and he also wants his son.”

The chief asked him to stay a few days longer; but he longed to go home, so the Chief of the Northern Lights called together his tribe to take leave of M’Sūrtū and his son, and ordered two great birds to carry them home. As they travelled over the Milky Way, Morning Star had the same strange sensation as before, and when he came to his senses, he found himself at his own door. His wife rejoiced to see him; for when the boy had told her that his father was safe, she had not heeded him, but feared that he was lost.

THE WOOD WORM’S STORY, SHOWING WHY THE RAVEN’S FEATHERS ARE BLACK

Long years ago, in a hollow tree dwelt Mosique, the Wood Worm. Mosique is a clever builder, and he builds wigwams for many of his neighbors. Moreover, he is a very proud old man, so that he was anything but pleased when “Hūhuss,” the Hen Hawk, came to visit him, saying: “Let me in, Mūsmī [my grandfather]. I have a little bird here for you.”

Now Mosique hated the Hawk, because only a short time before he had killed one of his best friends, little “Getchkī-kī-lāssis,” the Chickadeedee, and now he came back to taunt Mosique with the fact.

“Come, Mūsmī, let me in.”

Mosique is a skilful fighter when he is angry; but the powerful Hawk never believed that that old worm could hurt anything. His house opened just wide enough for Hūhuss to put in his head; but it opened into a large room where he kept his tools of every kind.

The Little Birds were glad to see the Hawk go to Mosique’s house, for they trusted in the Worm’s cunning.

“Come, Mūsmī, let me in. I want you to build me a good warm house. I will pay you well for it.”

“Yes,” says Mosique, “I will build a house for my grandchildren in your old skull.”