His wife, however, was not without her own suspicions, and, concluding that she was being watched by {206} her husband, she halted at the top of the nearest hill and looked back to see if he was following her.
But he was sitting where she had left him, so she proceeded on her way.
When she was quite out of sight the Indian himself climbed the hill, and, seeing that she was not in the vicinity, returned to the camp. He inquired of his children where their mother went to gather firewood, and they pointed to a large patch of dead timber. Proceeding to the clump of leafless trees, the man inst.i.tuted a thorough search, and after a while discovered a den of rattlesnakes. Now it was one of these reptiles with which his wife was in love, so the Indian in his wrath gathered fragments of dry wood and set the whole plantation in a blaze. Then he returned to his lodge and told his children what he had done, at the same time warning them that their mother would be very wrathful, and would probably attempt to kill them all. He further said that he would wait for her return, but that they had better run away, and that he would provide them with three things which they would find of use. He then handed to the children a stick, a stone, and a bunch of moss, which they were to throw behind them should their mother pursue them. The children at once ran away, and their father hung the spider-web over the door of the lodge. Meanwhile the woman had seen the blaze made by the dry timber-patch from a considerable distance, and in great anger turned and ran back to the lodge. Attempting to enter it, she was at once entangled in the meshes of the spider-web.
The Pursuing Head
She struggled violently, however, and succeeded in getting her head through the opening, whereupon her husband severed it from her shoulders with his stone {207} axe. He then ran out of the lodge and down the valley, hotly pursued by the woman"s body, while her head rolled along the ground in chase of the children. The latter soon descried the grisly object rolling along in their tracks at a great speed, and one of them quickly threw the stick behind him as he had been told to do. Instantly a dense forest sprang up in their rear, which for a s.p.a.ce r.e.t.a.r.ded their horrible pursuer. The children made considerable headway, but once more the severed head made its appearance, gnashing its teeth in a frenzy of rage and rolling its eyes horribly, while it shrieked out threats which caused the children"s blood to turn to water.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Pursuing Head]
Then another of the boys threw the stone which he had been given behind him, and instantly a great mountain sprang up which occupied the land from sea to sea, so that the progress of the head was quite barred. It could perceive no means of overcoming this immense barrier, until it encountered two rams feeding, which it asked to make a way for it through the mountain, telling them that if they would do so it would marry the chief of the sheep. The rams made a valiant effort to meet this request, and again and again fiercely rushed at the mountain, till their horns were split and broken and they could b.u.t.t no longer. The head, growing impatient, called upon a colony of ants which dwelt in the neighbourhood to tunnel a pa.s.sage through the obstacle, and offered, if they were successful, to marry the chief ant as a recompense for their labours. The insects at once took up the task, and toiled incessantly until they had made a tunnel through which the head could roll.
The Fate of the Head
The children were still running, but felt that the head had not abandoned pursuit. At last, after a long {208} interval, they observed it rolling after them, evidently as fresh as ever. The child who had the bunch of moss now wet it and wrung out the water over their trail, and immediately an immense strait separated them from the land where they had been but a moment before. The head, unable to stop, fell into this great water and was drowned.
The children, seeing that their danger was past, made a raft and sailed back to the land from which they had come. Arrived there, they journeyed eastward through many countries, peopled by many different tribes of Indians, in order to reach their own territory. When they arrived there they found it occupied by tribes unknown to them, so they resolved to separate, one going north and the other south. One of them was shrewd and clever, and the other simple and ingenious. The shrewd boy is he who made the white people and instructed them in their arts.
The other, the simple boy, made the Blackfeet, but, being very stupid, was unable to teach them anything. He it was who was called Napi. As for the mother"s body, it continued to chase her husband, and is still following him, for she is the Moon and he is the Sun. If she succeeds in catching him she will slay him, and night will reign for evermore, but as long as he is able to evade her day and night will continue to follow one another.
Napi and the Buffalo-Stealer
There was once a great famine among the Blackfeet. For months no buffaloes were killed, and the weaker members of the tribe dropped off one by one, while even the strong braves and hunters began to sink under the privation. The chief in despair prayed that the creator, Napi, would send them food. Napi, {209} meanwhile, was far away in the south, painting the plumage of the birds in gorgeous tints.
Nevertheless he heard the voice of the chief over all the distance, and hastened northward.
"Who has summoned me?" he demanded.
"It was I," said the chief humbly. "My people are starving, and unless relief comes soon I fear we must all perish."
"You shall have food," answered Napi. "I will provide game for you."
Taking with him the chief"s son, Napi travelled toward the west. As they went the youth prayed earnestly to the Sun, the Moon, and the Morning Star, but his companion rebuked his impatience and bade him hold his peace. They crossed the Sweet Gra.s.s Hills, which Napi had made from huge handfuls of herbage, and where he loved to rest. Still there was no sign of game. At length they reached a little lodge by the side of a river, and Napi called a halt.
"There dwells the cause of your misfortunes," said he. "He who lives in that lodge is the Buffalo-stealer. He it is who has taken all the herds from the prairies, so that there is none left."
To further his design, Napi took the shape of a dog, and turned the youth into a stick. Not long afterward the little son of Buffalo-stealer was pa.s.sing that way, and immediately desired to take the little dog home with him.
"Very well," said his mother; "take that stick and drive it to the lodge."
But the boy"s father frowned angrily.
"I do not like the look of the beast," he said. "Send it away."
The boy refused to part with the dog, and his mother wanted the stick to gather roots with, so the father was {210} obliged to give way.
Still he did not show any good-will to the dog. The following day he went out of the lodge, and in a short time returned with a buffalo, which he skinned and prepared for cooking. His wife, who was in the woods gathering berries, came home toward evening, and at her husband"s bidding cooked part of the buffalo-meat. The little boy incurred his father"s anger again by giving a piece of meat to the dog.
"Have I not told you," cried Buffalo-stealer irately, "that he is an evil thing? Do not touch him."
That night when all was silent Napi and the chief"s son resumed their human form and supped off the buffalo-meat.
"It is Buffalo-stealer who keeps the herds from coming near the Blackfoot camp," said Napi. "Wait till morning and see."
The Herds of Buffalo-Stealer
In the morning they were once more dog and stick. When the woman and her child awoke they set off for the woods again, the former taking the stick to dig for roots, the latter calling for his little dog to accompany him. Alas! when they reached the spot they had fixed upon for root-gathering operations both dog and stick had vanished! And this was the reason for their disappearance. As the dog was trotting through the wood he had observed an opening like the mouth of a cavern, all but concealed by the thick undergrowth, and in the aperture he perceived a buffalo. His short, sharp barking attracted the attention of the stick, which promptly wriggled snake-wise after him. Within the cavern were great herds of deer and buffalo, enough to provide the Blackfeet with food for years and years. Napi ran among them, barking, and they were driven out to the prairie.
{211}
When Buffalo-stealer returned and discovered his loss his wrath knew no bounds. He questioned his wife and son, but they denied all knowledge of the affair.
"Then," said he, "it is that wretched little dog of yours. Where is he now?"
But the child could not tell him.
"We lost him in the woods," said he.
"I shall kill him," shouted the man, "and I shall break the stick as well!"
Napi overheard the threat, and clung to the long hair of an old buffalo; He advised the stick to conceal itself in the buffalo"s hair also, and so the twain escaped unnoticed from the cave, much as did Ulysses from the Cyclops" cavern. Once again they took the form of men, and drove a herd of buffalo to the Blackfoot camp, while Buffalo-stealer and his family sought them in vain.
The people met them with delighted acclamations, and the famine was at an end. Yet there were still some difficulties in the way, for when they tried to get the herd into the enclosure a large grey bird so frightened the animals with its dismal note that they refused to enter.
This occurred so often that Napi suspected that the grey bird was no other than Buffalo-stealer. Changing himself into an otter, he lay by the side of a river and pretended to be dead. The greedy bird saw what he thought to be a dead otter, and pounced upon it, whereupon Napi seized him by the leg and bore him off to the camp. By way of punishment he was tied over the smoke-hole of the wigwam, where his grey feathers soon became black and his life a burden to him.
"Spare me!" he cried. "Let me return to my wife and child. They will surely starve."
{212}
His piteous appeals moved the heart of Napi, and he let him go, but not without an admonition.
"Go," said he, "and hunt for food, that you may support your wife and child. But do not take more than you need, or you shall die."
The bird did as he was bidden. But to this day the feathers of the raven are black, and not grey.
The Story of Kutoyis
There once lived on the banks of the Missouri an old couple who had one daughter, their only child. When she grew to be a woman she had a suitor who was cruel and overbearing, but as she loved him her parents offered no opposition to their marriage. Indeed, they gave the bride the best part of their possessions for a dowry, so that she and her husband were rich, while her father and mother lived in a poor lodge and had very little to eat. The wicked son-in-law took advantage of their kindness in every way. He forced the old man to accompany him on his hunting expeditions, and then refused to share the game with him.
Sometimes one would kill a buffalo and sometimes the other, but always it was the younger man who got the best of the meat and who made himself robes and moccasins from the hide.
Thus the aged couple were nearly perishing from cold and hunger. Only when her husband was out hunting would the daughter venture to carry a morsel of meat to her parents.
On one occasion the younger man called in his overbearing way to his father-in-law, bidding him help in a buffalo-hunt. The old man, reduced by want almost to a skeleton, was too much afraid of the tyrant to venture to disobey him, so he accompanied him in the chase. Ere long they encountered a fine buffalo, {213} whereupon both drew their bows and fired. But it was the arrow of the elder man which pierced the animal and brought it to the ground. The old man set himself to skin the buffalo, for his son-in-law never shared in these tasks, but left them to his companion. While he was thus engaged the latter observed a drop of blood on one of his arrows which had fallen to the ground.