"Yehe, yehe! There goes their chief! A white mouse!" exclaimed one of the boys.
"Stop shooting!" came the imperative command from the s.h.a.ggy-haired boy.
"It is a good sign to see their chief, but it is a very bad sign if we kill any after we have seen him," he explained.
"I have never heard that this is so," demurred Shungela, unwilling to yield his authority.
"You can ask your grandmother or your grandfather to-night, and you will find that I am right," retorted the s.h.a.ggy-haired one.
"Woo, woo!" they called, and all the others came running.
"How many of you saw the white mouse?" Teola asked.
"I saw it!" "I too!" "I too!" replied several.
"And how many have heard that to see the chief of the mouse people brings good luck if the mice are spared after his appearance, but that whoever continues to kill them invites misfortune?"
"I have heard it!" "And I!" "And I!" The replies were so many that all the boys were willing to concede the authenticity of the story, and the hunt was stopped.
"Let us hear the mouse legends again this evening. My grandfather will tell them to us," Teola suggested, and not a boy there but was ready to accept the invitation.
Padanee was an ordinary looking old Indian, except that he had a really extraordinary pair of eyes, whose searching vision it seemed that nothing could escape. These eyes of his were well supported by an uncommonly good memory. His dusky and furrowed countenance was lighted as by an inner flame when once he had wound the buffalo-robe about his lean, brown limbs and entered upon the account of his day"s experience in the chase, or prepared to relate to an attentive circle some oft-repeated tradition of his people.
"Hun, hun, hay!" The old savage cleared his throat. A crowd of bright-eyed little urchins had slipped quietly into his lodge. "Teola tells me that you had all set out to hunt down and destroy the Little People of the Meadow, and were only stopped by seeing their chief go by.
I want to tell you something about the lives of these little creatures.
We know that they are food for foxes and other animals, and that is as far as most of us think upon the matter. Yet the Great Mystery must have had some purpose in mind when He made them, and doubtless that is good for us to know."
Padanee was considered a very good savage school-teacher, and he easily held his audience.
"When you make mud animals," he continued, "you are apt to vary them a little, perhaps for fun and perhaps only by accident. It is so with the Great Mystery. He seems to get tired of making all the animals alike, for in every tribe there are differences.
"Among the Hetunkala, the Little People, there are several different bands. Some live in one place and build towns and cities like the white man. Some wander much over forest and prairie, like our own people.
These are very small, with long tails, and they are great jumpers. They are the thieves of their nation. They never put up any food of their own, but rob the store-houses of other tribes.
"Then there is the bobtailed mouse with white breast. He is very much like the paleface--always at work. He cannot pa.s.s by a field of the wild purple beans without stopping to dig up a few and tasting to see if they are of the right sort. These make their home upon the low-lying prairies, and fill their holes with great store of wild beans and edible roots, only to be robbed by the gopher, the skunk, the badger, who not only steal from them but often kill and eat the owner as well. Our old women, too, sometimes rob them of their wild beans.
"This fellow is always fat and well-fed, like the white man. He is a harvester, and his full store-houses are found all through the bottom lands."
"Ho, ho! Washtay lo!" the boys shouted. "Keep on, grandfather!"
"Perhaps you have heard, perhaps not," resumed the old man. "But it is the truth. These little folk have their own ways. They have their plays and dances, like any other nation."
"We never heard it; or, if we have, we can remember it better if you will tell it to us again!" declared the s.h.a.ggy-haired boy, with enthusiasm.
"Ho, ho, ho!" they all exclaimed, in chorus.
"Each full moon, the smallest of the mouse tribe, he of the very sharp nose and long tail, holds a great dance in an open field, or on a sandy sh.o.r.e, or upon the crusty snow. The dance is in honor of those who are to be cast down from the sky when the nibbling of the moon begins; for these Hetunkala are the Moon-Nibblers."
As this new idea dawned upon Padanee"s listeners, all tightened their robes around them and sat up eagerly.
At this point a few powerful notes of a wild, melodious music burst spontaneously from the throat of the old teacher, for he was wont to strike up a song as a sort of interlude. He threw his ma.s.sive head back, and his naked chest heaved up and down like a bellows.
"One of you must dance to this part, for the story is of a dance and feast!" he exclaimed, as he began the second stanza.
Teola instantly slipped out of his buffalo-robe and stepped into the centre of the circle, where he danced crouchingly in the firelight, keeping time with his lithe brown body to the rhythm of the legend-teller"s song.
"O-o-o-o!" they all hooted at the finish.
"This is the legend of the Little People of the Meadow. Hear ye! hear ye!" said Padanee.
"Ho-o-o!" was the instant response from the throats of the little Red men.
"A long time ago, the bear made a medicine feast, and invited the medicine-men (or priests) of all the tribes. Of each he asked one question, "What is the best medicine (or magic) of your tribe?"
"All told except the little mouse. He was pressed for an answer, but replied, "That is my secret."
"Thereupon the bear was angry and jumped upon the mouse, who disappeared instantly. The big medicine-man blindly grabbed a handful of gra.s.s, hoping to squeeze him to death. But all the others present laughed and said, "He is on your back!"
"Then the bear rolled upon the ground, but the mouse remained uppermost.
""Ha, ha, ha!" laughed all the other medicine-men. "You cannot get rid of him."
"Then he begged them to knock him off, for he feared the mouse might run into his ear. But they all refused to interfere.
""Try your magic on him," said they, "for he is only using the charm that was given him by the Great Mystery."
"So the bear tried all his magic, but without effect. He had to promise the little mouse that, if he would only jump off from his body, neither he nor any of his tribe would ever again eat any of the Little People.
"Upon this the mouse jumped off.
"But now Hinhan, the owl, caught him between his awful talons, and said:
""You must tell your charm to these people, or I will put my charm on you!"
"The little medicine-man trembled, and promised that he would if the owl would let him go. He was all alone and in their power, so at last he told it.
""None of our medicine-men," he began, "dared to come to this lodge. I alone believed that you would treat me with the respect due to my profession, and I am here." Upon this they all looked away, for they were ashamed.
""I am one of the least of the Little People of the Meadow," said the mouse. "We were once a favored people, for we were born in the sky. We were able to ride the round moon as it rolls along. We were commissioned at every full moon to nibble off the bright surface little by little, until all was dark. After a time it was again silvered over by the Great Mystery, as a sign to the Earth People.
""It happened that some of us were careless. We nibbled deeper than we ought, and made holes in the moon. For this we were hurled down to the earth. Many of us were killed; others fell upon soft ground and lived.
We do not know how to work. We can only nibble other people"s things and carry them away to our hiding-places. For this we are hated by all creatures, even by the working mice of our own nation. But we still retain our power to stay upon moving bodies, and that is our magic."
""Ho, ho, ho!" was the response of all present. They were obliged to respond thus, but they were angry with the little mouse, because he had shamed them.
"It was therefore decreed in that medicine-lodge that all the animals may kill the Hetunkala wherever they meet them, on the pretext that they do not belong upon earth. All do so to this day except the bear, who is obliged to keep his word."