"He watched the Moon come home to camp and saw the Sun go to work, but he did not go very far away because he wanted to be near the lodge when night came again.
"It was not long to wait, for all the OLD-man had to do was to make mischief, and only those who have work to do measure time. He was close to the lodge when the Moon came out, and there he waited until the Sun went inside. From the bushes OLD-man saw the Sun take off his leggings and his eyes glittered with greed as he saw their owner fold them and put them under his head as he had always done. Then he waited a while before creeping closer. Little by little the old rascal crawled toward the lodge, till finally his head was inside the door.
Then he waited a long, long time, even after the Sun was snoring.
"The strange noises of the night bothered him, for he knew he was doing wrong, and when a Loon cried on a lake near by, he shivered as with cold, but finally crept to the sleeper"s side. Cautiously his fingers felt about the precious leggings until he knew just how they could best be removed without waking the Sun. His breath was short and his heart was beating as a war-drum beats, in the black dark of the lodge.
Sweat--cold sweat, that great fear always brings to the weak-hearted--was dripping from his body, and once he thought that he would wait for another night, but greed whispered again, and listening to its voice, he stole the leggings from under the Sun"s head.
"Carefully he crept out of the lodge, looking over his shoulder as he went through the door. Then he ran away as fast as he could go. Over hills and valleys, across rivers and creeks, toward the east. He wasted much breath laughing at his smartness as he ran, and soon he grew tired.
""Ho!" he said to himself, "I am far enough now and I shall sleep.
It"s easy to steal from the Sun--just as easy as stealing from the Bear or the Beaver."
"He folded the leggings and put them under his head as the Sun had done, and went to sleep. He had a dream and it waked him with a start.
Bad deeds bring bad dreams to us all. OLD-man sat up and there was the Sun looking right in his face and laughing. He was frightened and ran away, leaving the leggings behind him.
"Laughingly the Sun put on the leggings and went on toward the west, for he is always busy. He thought he would see OLD-man no more, but it takes more than one lesson to teach a fool to be wise, and OLD-man hid in the timber until the Sun had travelled out of sight. Then he ran westward and hid himself near the Sun"s lodge again, intending to wait for the night and steal the leggings a second time.
"He was much afraid this time, but as soon as the Sun was asleep he crept to the lodge and peeked inside. Here he stopped and looked about, for he was afraid the Sun would hear his heart beating. Finally he started toward the Sun"s bed and just then a great white Owl flew from off the lodge poles, and this scared him more, for that is very bad luck and he knew it; but he kept on creeping until he could almost touch the Sun.
"All about the lodge were beautiful linings, tanned and painted by the Moon, and the queer signs on them made the old coward tremble. He heard a night-bird call outside and he thought it would surely wake the Sun; so he hastened to the bed and with cunning fingers stole the leggings, as he had done the night before, without waking the great sleeper. Then he crept out of the lodge, talking bravely to himself as cowards do when they are afraid.
""Now," he said to himself, "I shall run faster and farther than before. I shall not stop running while the night lasts, and I shall stay in the mountains all the time when the Sun is at work in the daytime!"
"Away he went--running as the Buffalo runs--straight ahead, looking at nothing, hearing nothing, stopping at nothing. When day began to break OLD-man was far from the Sun"s lodge and he hid himself in a deep gulch among some bushes that grew there. He listened a long time before he dared to go to sleep, but finally he did. He was tired from his great run and slept soundly and for a long time, but when he opened his eyes--there was the Sun looking straight at him, and this time he was scowling. OLD-man started to run away but the Sun grabbed him and threw him down upon his back. My! but the Sun was angry, and he said:
""OLD-man, you are a clever thief but a mighty fool as well, for you steal from me and expect to hide away. Twice you have stolen the leggings my wife made for me, and twice I have found you easily. Don"t you know that the whole world is my lodge and that you can never get outside of it, if you run your foolish legs off? Don"t you know that I light all of my lodge every day and search it carefully? Don"t you know that nothing can hide from me and live? I shall not harm you this time, but I warn you now, that if you ever steal from me again, I will hurt you badly. Now go, and don"t let me catch you stealing again!"
"Away went OLD-man, and on toward the west went the busy Sun. That is all.
"Now go to bed; for I would talk of other things with my friend, who knows of war as I do. Ho!"
OLD-MAN AND HIS CONSCIENCE
Not so many miles away from the village, the great mountain range so divides the streams that are born there, that their waters are offered as tribute to the Atlantic, Pacific, and Arctic Oceans. In this wonderful range the Indians believe the winds are made, and that they battle for supremacy over Gunsight Pa.s.s. I have heard an old story, too, that is said to have been generally believed by the Blackfeet, in which a monster bull-elk that lives in Gunsight Pa.s.s lords it over the winds. This elk creates the North wind by "flapping" one of his ears, and the South wind by the same use of his other. I am inclined to believe that the winds are made in that Pa.s.s, myself, for there they are seldom at rest, especially at this season of the year.
To-night the wind was blowing from the north, and filmy white clouds were driven across the face of the nearly full moon, momentarily veiling her light. Lodge poles creaked and strained at every heavy gust, and sparks from the fires inside the lodges sped down the wind, to fade and die.
In his lodge War Eagle waited for us, and when we entered he greeted us warmly, but failed to mention the gale. "I have been waiting," he said. "You are late and the story I shall tell you is longer than many of the others." Without further delay the story-telling commenced.
"Once OLD-man came upon a lodge in the forest. It was a fine one, and painted with strange signs. Smoke was curling from the top, and thus he knew that the person who lived there was at home. Without calling or speaking, he entered the lodge and saw a man sitting by the fire smoking his pipe. The man didn"t speak, nor did he offer his pipe to OLD-man, as our people do when they are glad to see visitors. He didn"t even look at his guest, but OLD-man has no good manners at all.
He couldn"t see that he wasn"t wanted, as he looked about the man"s lodge and made himself at home. The linings were beautiful and were painted with fine skill. The lodge was clean and the fire was bright, but there was no woman about.
"Leaning against a fine back-rest, OLD-man filled his own pipe and lighted it with a coal from the man"s fire. Then he began to smoke and look around, wondering why the man acted so queerly. He saw a star that shone down through the smoke-hole, and the tops of several trees that were near the lodge. Then he saw a woman--way up in a tree top and right over the lodge. She looked young and beautiful and tall.
""Whose woman is that up there in the tree top?" asked OLD-man.
""She"s your woman if you can catch her and will marry her," growled the man; "but you will have to live here and help me make a living."
""I"ll try to catch her, and if I do I will marry her and stay here, for I am a great hunter and can easily kill what meat we want," said Old-man.
"He went out of the lodge and climbed the tree after the woman. She screamed, but he caught her and held her, although she scratched him badly. He carried her into the lodge and there renewed his promise to stay there always. The man married them, and they were happy for four days, but on the fifth morning OLD-man was gone--gone with all the dried meat in the lodge--the thief.
"When they were sure that the rascal had run away the woman began to cry, but not so the man. He got his bow and arrows and left the lodge in anger. There was snow on the ground and the man took the track of OLD-man, intending to catch and kill him.
"The track was fresh and the man started on a run, for he was a good hunter and as fast as a Deer. Of course he gained on OLD-man, who was a much slower traveller; and the Sun was not very high when the old thief stopped on a hilltop to look back. He saw the man coming fast.
""This will never do," he said to himself. "That queer person will catch me. I know what I shall do; I shall turn myself into a dead Bull-Elk and lie down. Then he will pa.s.s me and I can go where I please."
"He took off his moccasins and said to them: "Moccasins, go on toward the west. Keep going and making plain tracks in the snow toward the big-water where the Sun sleeps. The queer-one will follow you, and when you pa.s.s out of the snowy country, you can lose him. Go quickly for he is close upon us."
"The moccasins ran away as OLD-man wanted them to, and they made plain tracks in the snow leading away toward the big-water. OLD-man turned into a dead Bull-Elk and stretched himself near the tracks the moccasins had made.
"Up the hill came the man, his breath short from running. He saw the dead Elk, and thought it might be OLD-man playing a trick. He was about to shoot an arrow into the dead Elk to make sure; but just as he was about to let the arrow go, he saw the tracks the moccasins had made. Of course he thought the moccasins were on OLD-man"s feet, and that the carca.s.s was really that of a dead Elk. He was badly fooled and took the tracks again. On and on he went, following the moccasins over hills and rivers. Faster than before went the man, and still faster travelled the empty moccasins, the trail growing dimmer and dimmer as the daylight faded. All day long, and all of the night the man followed the tracks without rest or food, and just at daybreak he came to the sh.o.r.e of the big-water. There, right by the water"s edge, stood the empty moccasins, side by side.
"The man turned and looked back. His eyes were red and his legs were trembling. "Caw--caw, caw," he heard a Crow say. Right over his head he saw the black bird and knew him, too.
""Ho! OLD-man, you were in that dead Bull-Elk. You fooled me, and now you are a Crow. You think you will escape me, do you? Well, you will not; for I, too, know magic, and am wise."
"With a stick the man drew a circle in the sand. Then he stood within the ring and sang a song. OLD-man was worried and watched the strange doings from the air overhead. Inside the circle the man began to whirl about so rapidly that he faded from sight, and from the centre of the circle there came an Eagle. Straight at the Crow flew the Eagle, and away toward the mountains sped the Crow, in fright.
"The Crow knew that the Eagle would catch him, so that as soon as he reached the trees on the mountains he turned himself into a Wren and sought the small bushes under the tall trees. The Eagle saw the change, and at once began turning over and over in the air. When he had reached the ground, instead of an Eagle a Sparrow-hawk chased the Wren. Now the chase was fast indeed, for no place could the Wren find in which to hide from the Sparrow-hawk. Through the brush, into trees, among the weeds and gra.s.s, flew the Wren with the Hawk close behind.
Once the Sparrow-hawk picked a feather from the Wren"s tail--so close was he to his victim. It was nearly over with the Wren, when he suddenly came to a park along a river"s side. In this park were a hundred lodges of our people, and before a fine lodge there sat the daughter of the chief. It was growing dark and chilly, but still she sat there looking at the river. The Sparrow-hawk was striking at the Wren with his beak and talons, when the Wren saw the young-woman and flew straight to her. So swift he flew that the young-woman didn"t see him at all, but she felt something strike her hand, and when she looked she saw a bone ring on her finger. This frightened her, and she ran inside the lodge, where the fire kept the shadows from coming. OLD-man had changed into the ring, of course, and the Sparrow-hawk didn"t dare to go into the lodge; so he stopped outside and listened. This is what he heard OLD-man say:
""Don"t be frightened, young-woman, I am neither a Wren nor a ring. I am OLD-man and that Sparrow-hawk has chased me all the day and for nothing. I have never done him harm, and he bothers me without reason."
""Liar--forked-tongue," cried the Sparrow-hawk. "Believe him not, young-woman. He has done wrong. He is wicked and I am not a Sparrow-hawk, but conscience. Like an arrow I travel, straight and fast. When he lies or steals from his friends I follow him. I talk all the time and he hears me, but lies to himself, and says he does not hear. You know who I am, young-woman, I am what talks inside a person."
"OLD-man heard what the Sparrow-hawk said, and he was ashamed for once in his life. He crawled out of the lodge. Into the shadows he ran away--away into the night, and the darkness--away from himself!
"You see," said War Eagle, as he reached for his pipe, "OLD-man knew that he had done wrong, and his heart troubled him, just as yours will bother you if you do not listen to the voice that speaks within yourselves. Whenever that voice says a thing is wicked, it is wicked--no matter who says it is not. Yes--it is very hard for a man to hide from himself. Ho!"
OLD-MAN"S TREACHERY
The next afternoon Muskrat and Fine Bow went hunting. They hid themselves in some brush which grew beside an old game trail that followed the river, and there waited for a chance deer.
Chickadees hopped and called, "chick-a-de-de-de" in the willows and wild-rose bushes that grew near their hiding-place; and the gentle little birds with their pretty coats were often within a few inches of the hands of the young hunters. In perfect silence they watched and admired these little friends, while glance or smile conveyed their appreciation of the bird-visits to each other.
The wind was coming down the stream, and therefore the eyes of the boys seldom left the trail in that direction; for from that quarter an approaching deer would be unwarned by the ever-busy breeze. A rabbit came hopping down the game trail in believed perfect security, pa.s.sing so close to Fine Bow that he could not resist the desire to strike at him with an arrow. Both boys were obliged to cover their mouths with their open hands to keep from laughing aloud at the surprise and speed shown by the frightened bunny, as he scurried around a bend in the trail, with his white, pudgy tail bobbing rapidly.
They had scarcely regained their composure and silence when, "snap!"
went a dry stick. The sharp sound sent a thrill through the hearts of the boys, and instantly they became rigidly watchful. Not a leaf could move on the ground now--not a bush might bend or a bird pa.s.s and escape being seen by the four sharp eyes that peered from the brush in the direction indicated by the sound of the breaking stick. Two hearts beat loudly as Fine Bow fitted his arrow to the bowstring. Tense and expectant they waited--yes, it was a deer--a buck, too, and he was coming down the trail, alert and watchful--down the trail that he had often travelled and knew so well. Yes, he had followed his mother along that trail when he was but a spotted fawn--now he wore antlers, and was master of his own ways. On he came--nearly to the brush that hid the hunters, when, throwing his beautiful head high in the air, he stopped, turning his side a trifle.
Zipp--went the arrow and, kicking out behind, away went the buck, crashing through willows and alders that grew in his way, until he was out of sight. Then all was still, save the chick-a-de-de-de, chick-a-de-de-de, that came constantly from the bushes about them.