: W" '#» s V^" .^«4' ■*U.o^ =^.> / ^c O V oV -^' /' " o ^"^^^/ o^ '^% A .0' s^' .>>AS'. .^■' ^ •n-.o< 'o t- <>>> .<- .0- . '-*•.. .^ INDIAN STOKICS AS KKLATKD BY Tin: -T()I S.r.rt,, TVr Frirnd.h.|. N > l..r..l.> H,.. .1 CI.,!,. Thr Boff.l.. tl riy. Buff.l.. St. riy of Natural S.-.rrrr.. Thr Onr.d. H ..y ol Utir. N. '^ Ur Br.L.K Folk-Urr S..r,rl>. TKr I „|,on f.r W. Ailv«n<-rr»irn( i>l Srirnrr, and FrIloM oi The American A> - For iKr AdvanrrmrnI o( Srienrc. 1 i:ii;ni»sii:i'. m.w \ < 'i;i\ TO SUPERINTENDENT OF THE THIS BOOK OF INDIAN STORIES IS DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR COPYRIGHT BY JOHN WRNTWORTH SAXBOHX 191.5 ^^ L Made in Friendship. New York. U. S. A MAR -8 1915 CI,A393897 I'UKIATOIO NOTi:. o ^rill. >i.M-.(A INDIANS nlatr to tl.cn .•l.il- ' otne family .secures for the occa'^i(»n,--an(l lu' mii>l l»e oiu- of the aiithori/e<| story-tellers of the tril»e-- crootjs out tin* legendary lore to an ea^er ct«»r\ teller: one uivinn an ear of r(»rn: an<»ther, an apple; a third, a potato, or turnip, and s(» on until all have niven. In return for learning the laii^uaKe and making translations into the SetU'ca tongue of hymns and other matti-r. the writer was ado|)ted into the Irihe with imposing ceremony, and ui\en the Indian name of < )-vo-na-weh. "Skv without-a-c|oud," and made chief. f..r life, of the Clan of Wolves in which an* ^cNentceii hunkin overdress ornainentetl with l»ea• the game to gf) a great distance. Suddenly he discov<*red what to him was very strange, the track of a huge bear; .s<> large and heavy was the bear that at every step his great weight pressed his feet deep down below the surface, and so fat was he that the footprints were filled with oil which flowed down his legs. "I will follow this wonderful track.' said the bo\-, "ami kill this great bear. ' 7 INDIAN STORIES The track appeared to be lately made, for the weeds which the bear trod down were slowly straightening themselves up again. He followed the track, forgetting, in his eagerness, all about the old man in the wigwam far away, and soon came to a bark-house which contained a large family, and among them quite a number of girls. He asked an old woman when the bear went by, and she, pointing to the youngest girl, replied. "When that girl was a baby; but the animal is not a bear, it is a man." "She is a foolish old woman. She does n't know a bear from a man, ' muttered the nephew to himself. "I know it is a bear's track, and I will follow it." In his journeying he reached another house, where lived an old man, and asked, "Haksoot, (grandfather) when did the great bear go past?" "That is the track of your uncle who went past. He made the track to catch your atten- tion. He will be glad to see you. I moved into this house when he made the track that I might have this oil to eat on my corn-bread.' "I know this is a bear's track and not a man's," the nephew kept muttering. He continued to follow the track, and soon reached another house, and there the track end- ed. Near this house there was a deep ravine and not far ofT a lake. Knocking at the door, he asked, 'When did the great bear go past? I am after him. I am going to shoot him." "My nephew," said the man in the house, "you have at last come home and I am glad. I made the track and filled it with oil to catch your mind l\niA\ STORIES s and lead you home. That old man who told you not to go to the north stole you away from this house when \ou were tweke moons (twelve months) old. It was lodged in my mind to show you the way home, so I made the track. The old man will come for you, but he shall not get you. I will command my house to turn to stone, niid he cannot hurt \'ou. .;: .': :!c * I he old man in the lorest wondered what had hccome of the boy. He feared that his orders were disobeyed, and that the boy had found the (ra'-k; sf) h.- started very early thf next morning to look him up. fie found the bo>' s track near the track (»f the l)ear. Yes, nn neph«"\\ has surel> found out w h\ I told him not to go to the north; I n\ dl follow him. ISut first I will turn into a griz/lv bear, and he will see mr and Ix- afrnul and I can catch him and bring him back. The old man accordmgK" tunird into a \ (Tn fcroi'ious looking bear and started on the run. Ktaching th<* lirst bark-house he halted, and en- (inired it tin- boy had gone past; he was told that be had. I l«- burned on, asking thr same tjues- tion at the next house, and recei\uig the same answ' were returning home, they discovered a woman s track going in the direction of their dwelling. I h<* oldest hrothi-r was accustomed to lead their line of march, and the youngest to hring up the rear. rh»< oldest was very homely, hut lor all that he had long wanted to Imd him a wife. He was the first to discover the trn( k, and kept wishing that he might find the w > n in sitting at his place near the lire. rh«' Indian custom has always heen that, if a woman, seeking a hushand — and they have al- wa> s regarded it as one of woman s first rights to choose her own husband — should sit on the seat ol the man sh<* woo««d and he take up and bite the bread she brought, the match was con- summated. rii'- t )re'nost of t!ie ten brothers eagerly tol- 11 INDIAN STORIES lowed the track. His mind was so absorbed with thoughts of the woman and her track that, when he stubbed his toe against a root, he fell flat, and the force of the fall made the thoughts in his mind explode into the words, "1 wish she be on my seat," and the brothers laughed. To his delight, and their chagrin — for every- one of them, as they afterwards confessed, se- cretly had hope — she sat at his place. He took the bread and bit out of it such a large mouthful, and so eagerly that you would have thought he was starvingto death for that very loaf ! She had prepared supper for all the ten and they praised her. They were glad, after all, that she wedded their oldest brother, because, for a long time he had hoped a wife would come to him, but none came he was so homely, and his failures made him cross. So they were glad for now ne was not cross. Well, she prepared the food morning and evening for all the brothers and gathered wood for their fire. One day she was taken sick, and every min- ute grew worse so that none of them went hunt- ing that day. "I am very sick," she said, "and there is only one medicine that will cure me. ' "What is it? What is it?" they all cried. "I cannot get well unless the youngest broth- er will stand by the door and face me. Then 1 get well. "That is very easy medicine," said one of the brothers. But the youngest brother feared some trick, and asked, "Why can't I stand here by my seat?" **No, he must stand by the door, ' she said. His brothers urtfed hini, and he stood by the door. Iii9taiitl>' she spranti forward like a tiifer and uent with a rush through the open door, and u hen she had gone it was found that she had dug out the eyes ol the youngest brother. The nine ran in pursuit of her. They gained upon her and *ver«- jjst about to seize her; she cried out {() the hurricane \\ hich la\' sleeping near i)> and it au oke and destroNed the nine brolhe-rs and she escaped. I he filind f)rother was K-fi alone. A large dog and a hide girl — th«- child of the woman — were spared also. W hen the little girl knew what had happened to her uncle she was \ cry sad. I)ul she t )l(l him that *-he w(juld car** for him. and not to fe. She gathered sticks lor their lire and the dug alwa\s att<*n(h'(l lu'r; but one day she went out while the dog was asl out in great distress. The dog sprang out and saw the poor girl rising from the ground. A man with wings VN as carrying her off. The dog jumped to catvdi her. but could only reach her moccasins which be pulled nW and carried into the bark-house and dropped at the blind man s feet, then, cod- ing up into a heap near the lire, he turned into a round stone. I he winged man llew olT w ith the girl, carr\ - ing her abo\-e the tree tops and over a large b)d\' of water and alighted on an i.->Ian(l This 13 INDIAN STORIES was his home. There were several children there, and the girl wondered what it all meant. The man was very hungry, and he told one of the children to fetch some water. He put the kettle on the fire and placed a piece of bark on the ground pnd when the child came with the water he told her to sit down. He struck the child with a club and killed her; then de- voured the body. The next morning he flew away again, but returned at night without a vic- tim. He told the next girl to fetch some water and then the next, and served them all alike. The last one saw that she would be killed in a short time, so she tried to escape. She went after water, and, standing close to the lake gave a strange cry, and the voice of an old man re- sp nded calling her by name. She followed the voice and soon saw two men m a canoe. They told her to hurry into the canoe, and put a paddle out, and she stepped upon it into the canoe. They paddled away. They told the girl that the monster would be very angry and try to kill them all, but they would protect her. Just then they heard a strange noise. It was the voice of the monster calling the girl. As she did not answer, he went out to find her, dut he was so excited that he forgot to put on his wings. He found her track and followed it to the lake. Looking up, he saw the canoe and the men and the girl, and he was very mad, so mad that he did not think to go back for his wings! He lay down and sucked all the water of the lake down his throat. The island rose as if by I.MjLW ^ 7 OKIES 14 magic out of the water like a mountain, because tile monster drew the lake into his stomach. I he canoe was at once in the midst of swift rapids and shot towards the dark gulf ol the drag- on s throat. One of the men seized the beaver- spear, and, as they neared the monster who was now bloated up mountain- high, he pierced him, .ind instantK the water gushed out and drove ihr c.inoe swiftly awa\' and all escaped. The lv\«) men stood up near each other in the canoe and became one. This double man went ashore across the lake and led the little girl to his wig- u an), and he asked his mother w ho lived with liim to care for tlir girl, and this sIk- u as \ crv' •» illmii to do. When the girl becam«- a woman sh«' inarrird tile (louhh- man who had sn\rd Iht life .At liMimli tuiii l)«)\s \Kfrr bom lo ilirm. and the old \S()man \v as (hspleas«'d and tlir<'\\ them in- to the lakr; but the u aves sent them to the shore. She tlirru them in again, but saw at last that th«y could creep, and in a little w hile th«-y stood on their feet and ran au a\- from the wa- ter. 1 hen she becam«' i)h'asant lo them and iii.idc thrill a netted ball-club and a ball I h«\ «iijo>«-(l ph;\ ing liall. ( h\r (l.iy the\ becam«' so excited in their pla\' that the> sent the ball across the clearing and o\ (T the lr«'es. The\' chased it and soon came into a larger clearing, and her«* the>- pla\fd v'\ - er\- da\-, going honu* at night. One morning the hall bounded to lh«* top of a knoll and .suddenly (hsa[)|)eared. I he\ ran to lind it, but it u as no- \N here to be seen. .After hunting for it a long 15 INDIAN STORIES time, and just as they were about to give up the search, one of them spied an opening at the top of the knoll. Looking down, they saw a large room, and on the floor lay a man who held their ball in his hands. "There must be a door to this strange house," said one of the boys to the other. Searching, thej' found it and went in. The man was blind. They pitied him. They brought water, washed his face and he thanked them. It is a mark of great respect for a young Indian to wash the face of an aged or helpless person. The blind man gave the boys their ball. They went home, but said nothing about their discovery. Very early the next morning they returned to the home of the blind man. They asked him how he lost his eyes, and he answered: "My brother's wife stole my eyes when she made me stand by the door facing her." "Uncle, we will get you some eyes to use." As they journeyed through the forest they met a deer, and addressed him: ''We wish to borrow something of you; we would like to borrow your eyes." "AH right," said the deer. "Here is some moss to be eating until we re- turn with your eyes," and the deer lay down and the boys took out his eyes and placed them in the man's head. "Can you see?" they asked. "Yes, I can see something, but not very well." But the boys thought the eyes were too big, and not becoming to the man; so they took the /.\/)/A.\ STORIES 1». (•\es bacK. and thanked the deer [or lend nii them. Soon they met a bear and said to him: "We want to borrow something ol you; we int to borrow >'our eyes. "All riiiht, said the bear, — and the boys at once took them out and put them into the man's eye-sockets, and he looked ver\' wril, and said; "I can now see." V\ (• wdl leave these eyes in his head. iiUreed the boss. TIk'V returned home lor the niiiihl, biil madf no mention ol the man. harU' the next rnormnti ihrs hurried back a- \ln\n. 1 he\" asked the man in which direction the woman went with the stolen e\es, and how lar away she lived. He [)ointed but said: "Her dwelling is a i^reat distance away. "I nclc. we are tJoinii after your eyes,' — and into (he forest they plunUed. Many days and niijhts they lra\ «-led. reachinii at lenjith a ^reat lake skimmed o\<'r with ice so thin that it waved up and down with the water. The boys found a pod. and. placinji it on the ice, stepped into it — for it became larife like a canoe — i\ni\ san^: "Let the wind blow and lake us across the lake." and the wind blew and the pod skipped to the other side. On landing, the\' iound the woman s house. 'Sla\- here." said one of thel)o\sto the other. ind I u ill jlo to the house. She will run alter me. Hide here, and w hen she chases me [)ast this s[)ot. hit her with the ball." 17 INDIAN STORIES The boy crept up to the bark-house, and the woman sat by a fire braiding human hair into a cape, and she had hve human eyes worked into the shoulders of the cape. They were the eyes of the bhnd uncle. As the boy stood gazing at her both of his own eyes fell out into his hand. He commanded one of them to go back to its place, but held the other in his hand and said; "Let one of uncle's eyes come out of the cape into this empty socket, " and it did so. Then he took his uncle's eye out and held it in his hand and put his own eye in its place. He next took the other eye out, and the second eye of his un- cle flew to that socket. He took it out, held it in his hand, and put his own eye in its place. It was all a very trying operation, but he had suc- ceeded in capturing his uncle's eyes. As he hastened away, she sprang at him with a club, but missed him. She chased him past the hiding-place of the other boy. The ball flew out, hit her on the head, and she fell lifeless. They dragged her body into her bark-house, set fire to it, and remained until everything was consumed. They re-crossed the lake in the pod, and hastened to the house of the man who was wearing the bears eyes. On the way they found the place where their other uncles had been destroyed by the hurri- cane. The bones of all their people were there, the bones of their grandfathers and uncles. They arranged the bones in order, and, start- ing back, made a quick run and jumped over the piles of bones, and sang: "Let these people rise ! Let these people rise ! /.V/V.I.V STORIES \^ Ilif hurricane is coniinij and the trees w'ul lall. Hf (luick ! Be cjuick. At onje the people arose, and were \er\ ^lad to see the boys. All went to the wigwam of the nian uhose eyes had now been rescued, and the hoys saifl; "Uncle, we ha\e found >our eyes, and have brought back your brothers to life. He was overjoyed. They then look out the bear's eyes and |)ut the man s o\\ ti eyes in their places. The people \^ ere all well satisfied, and said to the boys: "We ^^ ould now like to see your mother. "^'ou shall see her. " said the boys, "but first In lis take ihrse eyes back to the bear. S(» tli(\ returned the bears eyes, and thanked luin for th»*m. aiul promised, as a reward for his kmdnes.s. never to hunt or hurt an>- of his family. "liut how shall we know." intjuired the boys- who belongs to your family? 1 he bear answered; "The smoke from our lirrs all«r this shall always go up in a straight column, and the s.noke from the fires of all oth- er bears shall spread out like a Hat cloud. In this wa>' \()u ma>' know us. At once the boys now set out for home. The old grandmother eagerly asked where llic\ had been so long, for her wam|)um-string. as IS always the case in time ol griel or danger, had dragged low in the ashes in their absence, and she kiH'w i)\ that that the l)o\s \n ere in a dangerous .situation. They told her all. and she praised them. 19 INDIAN STORIES The next morning they all went to the bark- house of Restored Eyes, and there they were contented and happy. They thought it best to remain there always, and make a settlement of wigwams, and not go back to the grandmother's house, and as she, too, was pleased to remain at the new home, they dwelt there in harmony, and became a mighty people. Na-ho. I am done. rflAPTFR III M AdAiiAs n<)ksi;sii( u; i \i.i. '-pHK LKGEND is. that a beautiful Indian I maiden was bound b>' some law to marr>- an ufily. wrinkled, uncouth Indian. The <'ontrarl had been ratified, and there was no es- cape ff)r her. So. just before the day that they. b\ tribal Ia\N. were to be bound as one, she spranti into a bark-canoe and paddled it far out upon the shootintf waters of Niajjara. Down, down the uil(] rapids, and oncf the surjjinjf sea of Hashing waters sped the canoe with its prec- ious freijfht. 1 he palron-deit\ of the harvest, the "cloud- makinU. and "ram-jliving Heno. dwelt in the cave b«-hind th«' falls. He saw the maiden fall- ing, and llew out-for he had massive winjis-and cnujiht her ere she struck the rocks below. She dwelt lor mati\' moons in the abode of Heno. \\ hile ther.*. he taught her many thin^js. He lold her what sh<* and her tribe had sou^jht for .\<'ars to know; w h\' it was that her people suf- fered ev streams that jjreat numbers of the In- dians mijiht be destro>ed because he fed upon 21 INDIAN STORIES the bodies of the dead, and such was his appe- tite that deaths by natural causes did not supply his need. Heno then brushed his wings, and bore the Indian maiden to her home. She told her people the cause of their suffering, and ad- vised them to change their residence. They did so, moving many corn-hills''^ towards the great lake. (Lake Ontario). The serpent, robbed of his feast, glided forth noiselessly after the departing people. Heno, who handles the storms and carries thunder-bolts of all sizes in his pouch, hurled one at the mon- ster. The shores and hills were shaken, and a terrible conflict ensued. Heno found that his first bolt was too small, but he feared that a lar- ger one would stun the deer in the wood and the fish in the lake, but he did not hurt the ser- pent, and, becoming alarmed, he selected two of the largest in his pouch, and finally slew the monster. His body extended more than a mile, and, swinging his tail around in the agonies of death, he swept up great hills of sand. Rolling down the rapids, the serpent's body lodged upon a rock, and piled the waters moun- tain-high, and the shelving rock gave way, be- hind the coiling mass which stretched from bank to bank, and thus was formed the horse- shoe bending of the Falls. This is the legend of the Senecas. * A corn-hill, Indian measurement, was about three feet. CHAPTER I\- M A X W 1 n I -< ».\ LV-T\V( )-FKATII KHS- CLOSl.-KH.KTHKK IN-HlS-CAl'- \ f ANY MOONS atfo. there lived m tlieir 1^1 own wigwam, an uncle and his nephew, Th«.' uncle s name was Do-hah-da-ne Uah, that is, "Man-wifh-only-two-feafhers-close- totiethrr-in-his-cap. '" The nephevs s name was } l»)s-h<'h-vvah-di-tfah-hoh. "Scorched-bodv . Hr re -eivcd this name because he was m the liaf)it of l\in(j so close to the lire that he was fore\ er scorc-hmii himself. I hese l\\() lived alone. 1 h«Te was nohody nerir ilirin. I lie i)ephe\\ had never seen any person hut his uncle. This uncle uas a great hunter, an(i while he was oH for jfame, the boy !«>• asleep by the lire* L\ er> niijht the hunt<*r rt'turru-d to the uii^wam and he alvs a\s had an • ihundance of meat. Soon the nephew became larifer and stronger so that he could assist his unch' 111 carrying home th«* meal. it was nlwa\s considered a s\\ln of n ^reat fiunter \^ hen a w igw am w as lined with se\ «ral la.\'ers ol meat struniJ on poles to dr\ . This un- cle s w igw am w as full of meat overhead. The bo\' had now become a younji man. The unch* ow ned \ er\ \ aluafile lurs and skins w Inch he had laid aw n\ for the pleasure of \isit- ors if an\- should ever come. The nephew was It was u.sual to wear one feather or more than lud. Se«' the pictures of Mrs. Jeini.MHi in this l»<»ok. To wear onl\ two feathers was a sign of (dhlity. 23 INDIAN STORIES not allowed to use the good furs. He lay on an old bear-skin right in the ashes, and his hair was full of them. '*\ ou are now a young man," said the uncle, "and you must now begin to learn something. I want you to start early tomorrow morning for a certain place. It is towards the sunrise." Very early the next morning the uncle shook the young man from the ashes, and dusted him off, then gave him directions: "You must now start. After you have gone a long distance, you will see a large dead pine tree, and near it you will find a big log; sit on this log and listen to every sound, but keep still. Then hurry back, and tell me what you heard. He went, found the log, sat down, kept still and listened. He heard nothing, and fell asleep for he was never up so early in all his life. He was awakened by a strange squealing un- der the log. He listened. Soon it stopped. He had never heard such a sound, and thought it must be what his uncle sent him for; so he hur- ried home to report. He was in such haste that he stumbled on the way, and, on reaching the wigwam, he fell flat upon the ashes. "Uncle ! Uncle ! I have heard something ! As I sat on the log, all at once" — "Hold on, nephew, hold on ! Let my tobacco burn first," and he filled his pipe and lighted it. "Now, nephew you may commence; what is it you have heard?" "As I sat on the log I was sleepy. I heard a strange voice; it said:" — and he mocked it. — /\n/A.\ STOR/hS 24 On. nephew, nephew !" cried the uncle in (lisfiust. "that was nothing hut a mole! Try it again tomorrow." So, early the next morning, he returned to the !o^, and said to himsell: "1 wonder what 1 will hear this time." All at once he heard; "Chir[). chirp, chirp, peep, pe<-p, peep, right o\er his head in the top of the dead pine tree. I here, that must he what uncle meant." So he hurried home, stumbling along until he reached the door, then hi- fell upon the ashes. I ncle. I have he-nrd it this time ! As I sat on the" — I {old on, n«*phe\N. hold (m. Let m>- tohacco hurn lirst, iind h«- Idled nml lu(litfd Ins pipe. Now \()u ma\ commence. \\ hat was it \ f)u heard?" "As I sat »>n the log I heard right ovtT me: Chirj). chirp, chirp, peep, p«'ep, peep. "N«'phew, slop! I hat was nothing hut a hird. ^ ou should know IxMter than to listen to moles and hirds. Tomorrtiw nou must tr\ again. ' Before da\light the next morning his uncle dusted him oil nnd sent him again. H\ this time he had made a w t-ll-healen trail to the log, so that he went without stumhling. R«'aching the log, he sat down, and suddenly 'Tu-whit, tu-\\ hoo, sounded loud close hy, and this strange* voice frightened him so that he ran all the \s a\ home. Out of hreath. he l)ursl info the wigwam and fell upon the ashes again. "Unrle. unele ! 1 know I hn\e h.-.-ird it this 25 INDIAN STORIES time. I was sitting on the" — Hold on, nephew, hold on. Let my tobacco ourn first. ' So he Hghted his pipe. "Now, nephew, I am ready. What was it?" "I was sitting there thinking what you could mean, and all at once I heard; Tu-whit, tu-whoo.' Is n't that it?" "You foolish boy! That is only an owl. You must go again. " So he went the next morning. 'What can uncle mean ! It must be something very strange. I will not mind birds any more. I will stay here and find out what it is. I will nev- er leave until I know. " At day-dawn he heard a faint sound which seemed to come from a great distance. It was a very strange, but sweet voice. "I must listen, for this is surely what uncle means, " whispered the nephew to himself. And he was right at last. It was the voice of a woman. She was nearing him. She was sing- ing very sweetly. The nephew was charmed. He listened to her words, and said them over to himself so as to repeat them to his uncle. These were the words; "Wa-eh-dah-noh-gwah-gwaeh do-hah-da-ne- gah." Having learned the song, the nephew ran for home at the top of his speed. It was daybreak, and the wild birds filled the woods with sweet notes. He entered the wigwam and fell into the ashes once more. In a hoarse whisper he said: "Uncle ! Uncle!" — "Wait, wait, nephew. Let my tobacco burn first," and he lighted his pipe and took a whifF. /.V/V.LV STOR/HS 26 "Now. nephew, ^o on." and he drew nearer. "As I sat"— "D«) n't (tdl that; tell what you heard." impa- tiently urifefl the uncle. "Well. I heard a voice at a jireat di^tanc-e. It saun very sweetly. I" — "I ell me. nephew, u hat did the voice say.*^ and the uncle mo\ed nearer still to his nephew and for^^ot to whilT at his i)ipe he was so anx- ious. "I nclf. I i.-iuned the sona. She SHii^: W a-rh-(lah-nol)-ifwah->iwaeli do-hah-da-ne- Uah. (I am t^oinu' altrr a hushand. the man of on l>'-t u ()-!(• nlhers-close-toUet her- in -his-cap.) '/\h. m.\ nepheu . that sounds jiood ! T hat is what I sent nou for. I am ihr our called Do-liah da-ne-ifah. This was the lust tune the l)o\ l{ your marriage to the younger sister. W hen our people wish to marry a daughter to a \oung man. they bear loaves of corn-bread to the fath- er and mother of the young man. You have no father and mother so the older sister brought the bread to me. and she also brought her youngest vist«-r. They have lefi the bread as a sign that you arc betrothed to th«* younger sister. Here ar<* two loaves of rorn-bread. and the>- are tied l()g<'lher with cf)rn-husks. and that makes them wedding-ri'ke. II >ou bite out a nK)uthlul it wdl br your answer to them that you accept the of- fer and are well pleased.' The nephew immediateK- took two large bites to nssnrc the uomen (A his acceplanc*'. ' I omorrou lh«'y will relurti to examine tin- lo.if for their answer, and we must not be here when they come. You must go to tln-ir abode in ten (la\s. 1 hi'i is our custom. I will now gi\«" \()u ibr power to bec(»me a great hunter such as I UiiVf brcii. W hfti N ou shoot an arrow. ne\er |)ick It lip nu.ii'i. but when >r)ur supply runs low grasp tb()s«'\ou ba\<* Irft and draw them across your h'fl nrm, and \our full (juiver of arrows. And now briore you go I want \()u to lurnish me with venison and bears meat l<. last me a long time." [ le went to hunt and \visb<-d lor deer and all kinds of bears, and gr«'at throngs of them came as if glad to fall brfore him. "W'rll, nepheu, \()u ha\e killed all the deer and Ixar s I ou are goiriii. You u dl not jjet there to-da\; it IS too far Stay with me and a.0 at daybreak." f le Cf)nsentrd to stay and they built a lire. The >ounii man fell asleep b> the u arm lire, atid (juickly the old man sharpened a hickory .slick and drove it douri his backbone. The nephew screamed and coutjhed. then ifrew faint and (juiet. and th<* man exchanged clothes w ilh him and went off multeritiii: ' \\ h\' did n t this foolish fellov^ know enough to lake his uncle s ad\ ic*- I lie put on th«' eaulr-lu-address but the eatile refused to scrrrim for the imposler. <: -A- ■■:■ I lie >()unu man did not ct)me as the peoph* «\|)ected. but they thcmiiht he would be there the n«*xt day and so all their ifuests remained. I he tv\o sistfTs had four brothers who went out to wrilch; there \s as a man.anci the cry arose: "Me IS cofiunjl! He i> coming! I he old man had come, but he pretended to be the nepb«*w. but the eajjie (bd not scream and all wire surprised at that. Me entered the set- ih-mrul. and took the best s«-al between lhetu< sisIjts. I he youniier said to herseli: "This IS not the nephew !" and she arose in lireat indi^'nation. and whispered her thoughts to her fatlu'.r. the chief. I he older sister paid him Ureat attention. Sin- ihoujiht he would make 31 INDIAN STORIES her a pretty fair husband, and, as she had been looking for a husband tor many moons, she took him. The younger sister went to the corn- field to husk and braid corn. At night, as all the guests sat in the firelight, the old suitor boasted of his exploits. He wanted to smoke, and asked for a deerskin to spit upon, 'Tor,'' said he. "whenever I spit hundreds of wampum beads equal in value to human beings will rattle over the skin." It seems that he knew what power the nephew had. The old mother brought out a choice skin. He threw down the pouch, saying: "Get up, pouch, and walk around the fire." But it lay there nothing but a lifeless pouch. "My pouch is bashful," he said. He filled his pipe, and ordered the birds to get a coal from the fire, but they did not move. "They also are bashful," he said. Everybody looked for his wonderful wampum beads; but not a bead came. He put up pouch and pipe, and all were disgusted- Next morning he went hunting, as it was the custom for the bridegroom to supply the com- pany with meat. He killed a cross-fox. it was the only game he ever killed, or ever could kill. All were surprised that he brought such poor meat, and decided that he was an imposter. The people gathered to taste his game. He told his wife to make a soup and give it to the guests, but when it was passed around they said they were not hungry just then, and would save it for their breakfast. He devoured it himself. L\P/A.\ sroH/Ks 32 He wanted to smoke again and did so bul uuli no belter success than before. wben the >ounger sister reached the curn- h«'ld the third njorning she found a very sick man there; he was ver\ pale. He looks like th<' man I was to niarr>. He 'pears to be asle<-p- She kept stdl. She saw his e>es opening, and s|M)ke: You must be \fr\ sick. Y« s, I am; what news hav«' youV An old man has arri\<'d who sa\s he is the nephew of Do-hah-cJa-ne-gah, but I know it isn t true. My sisirr has married him. ' "Ar<* \<)u tin- «m«- who w«-nt afirr tin- n« ph- ^ fs, :iii(l I iliink \iui are tin- iirpht-w. It IS triir. I am he. I ha\«' be«*n overpow- <{| b> th<- man- )f-the-w oodchuck-skin-leggins because I disobeyed m>' uncle. These ar«- his < lollies. A slick is down m\ back, fie thinks I n .lend.- "I am ulad I found \()u. softK whispered the Indian maiden, as he rested his head on her arm. She w hispered strengthening words to him. iIk'H hasl«Mied home and returned bearing him ■ ....I. 1 he \()ung man s unch' was tfeeply mourning and his w ampum-sirmg \n as drooping low. rie made a cr\ . poured ashes on his head, and end- • d \Niih ibis sonu: 33 INDIAN STORIES "Ten summers shall pass, nephew, before I shall give you up. " The young man said to the girl; "I have a plan; keep it secret. Tell your fath- er that a man in this neighborhood has just had a dream, h was told him in the dream that he and the man-\vith-the-woodchuck-skin-leggins must go into a cauldron when the sun is at mid- dle sky tomorrow.' She told her lather and he announced it to the imposter, not telling him who had the dream. "I am ready to meet any man in the cauldron any tmie," he boasted. The girl wrapped her lover in a blanket to hide his clothes, it was announced that the man who had the dream was present. The people built a wall about the cauldron, and roofed it overhead, poured water in, heated large stones very hot and rolled them into the water. The men entered, and the door was shut. A great steam arose and softened the hickory stick and quickly the nephew drew it out and drove it down the backbone of the pretender. immedi- ately the nephew's power came back, his wounds healed, and the uncle's wampum drew up. The nephew put on his own clothes, and tossed the woodchuck-skins back to the old man. He rubbed the eagle, it came back to life and screamed, and all the people shouted: "This is the nephew." They gave no attention to the deceiver who choked and coughed himself to death. /.V/V.LV STORItS 34 The nephew went with his wife to the chief lio greeted them. The nephew w'shed to ■Miioke, hut he made no hoasts. He took out his |)')uch. and up rose the fawn alive! It walked about as il c )ntented and ran around the lire sa>in;i: 'N\ah. n>ah, n> ah. He lillcti his pipe and the two hirds on its top llfw down to the fire and hore to him a hxt-roal and li;ihted his pipe. H<- spit, and hundreds of '•'•autiful wampum heads rallied on the ground. The women sprang for them and said: '( )h, how we do wish In* would spit again! I l<- went hunting the n!^Jh^ 36 dragged even more than when the nian-with- the-woodchuck-skin-leggins drove the stick of hirkory down his hackhone. And now all the f)irds and h( asts seemed bent on torturing the poor old uncle. There was a pounding on his door, and a \oice cried: Uncle, uncle. I have come liome, and the uncle, with his head covered u ith ash.es. in sign of grief, would go to the door, only to see an owl st<*althil>' winging his w a>' to another lr««-. Again a heavy pnunding at the door and a \f)ice cried: "I am \()ur neph<'w. I ncle, I have come at last." And he would go to the d(»(,r. only to see ;i fox sneaking anu)ng the hushes. In a few hours fluTe was th«* loudest knock of all. aiul a loud voie** cried out: l 'ncle, let m<- in. I am v our nephew . Hut h<* sal Willi howed head gray with ashes. I am v<»iir n<'[)hew. I ncle. are vou here f Yes, li«- answered, "hut are you reallv mv ...phew? The vsampum drags, and l)> this I know ili.ii mv nephew is in gr<-at trouMe." l^ul I am vour nephev\." and he opened the door, onl.v t<> see a hear hurrving up a leaning tree. " 1 lu-v shall not deceive m«- again, and he eul :i hole m the door. "Now, whoev t-r sa> s that \\r is nephevN must [)ut his hands through this hole, and ii I am deceived again. I \v ill kill mv lormentor. The nei)hr\s on llic locks was all lliis time 37 INDIAN STORIES encouraging his fellow- suflFerers. "Cheer up," he said, "I will rescue you. I am going to destroy this animal and our tormentor." He heard the dragon coming; saw his two great blazing eyes, and, taking aim, shot an ar- row and broughtthe monster down. He plunged headlong among the rocks and was dashed to pieces. Their tormentor came again, holding a baked squash, and crying: "This is what we eat" — and "whiz" went an arrow into his mouth just as he was biting ofF a piece, and he dropped the squash and tell dead. Then the nephew sang: "Ga-na-do-deh, Ga-na-do-deh, O Hemlock, grow, O Hemlock, grow," and at once there a- rose from the dragon's brain a hemlock tree. Whenever he sang, the tree grew; when he ceased, it stopped. At daybreak he could touch the top of the tree with his elbow. "Come," he cried to all the victims, "here is a hemlock tree for us to escape on." They came, he rubbed their wounds and all were healed. They went down the tree, the neph- ew last. The tree grew shorter at the top as the men went down, and \\ hen they stepped upon the ground the hemlock vanished. He led the rescued men back to his uncle's wigwam, and as they traveled, he thought: "I have been gone just ten summers. The wampum at the uncle's wigwam went up again, but his grief was so deep that he did not notice it. T he nephew approached the door not knowing what torments his uncle had RD 14t*p JMJLW STORIES 8S suffered. He pounded on the door and calleiJ: "I fiave come back to >ou, uncle. Ten suni- mer.s have passed away. I ncle. let us in.' "II yf)u are my nephew, put jour hands into the hole m the door. He did Ro. and the uncle, ihinkinii it was an- other tormentor, cauj^ht the hands and hf)und them last to^ielher with a thonji. and. ser/.inu his cluh. opened the door, and was just about to strike him a de;ith-blo\\ when he "xaw that he \\ as his nephe\\ . He dropped his club and told his nepheNN w h\ he had done so. I am ulad you have come back a({am. said the uncle, and the nephew show ed his friends, and the uncle \\ elcomed them, and sah\: "H-o-«»-()-()-o-o-o-( )-i\-ooop . "*> .^ "V- % ^''-. -r -J) •y ^^ *■ at. ~ ■' & Cl°x. Vv .^^ -"*.. < o. V o V ^^' ..' '/• oon; 3;os. IISRARV BINDINO ST. AUGUSTINE '*■.. FLA. '^2084 -^^o > V" .^rv •\'. '\ ^^^1^1 LiBRARY OF CONGRESS 010 524 268 2