"You have been told," he adds, "that the animals long ago agreed to sacrifice their lives for ours, when we are in need of food or of skins for garments, but that we are forbidden to kill for sport alone."
"Why, grandfather," the boy admits, "I followed a gray squirrel from tree to tree, and shot at him more than once, but he always dodged the arrow in time!"
"And were you then hungry? did you have any use for the little fellow if you had killed him?" the old man persists. "There was once a squirrel who made a treaty of peace with a little boy like you. I will tell you his story to-night."
THE GOOD-LUCK TOKEN
There was once an old couple who lived quite alone with their little grandson in the midst of a great wood.
They were wretchedly poor, for the old man was now growing too weak to hunt, and often came home at night empty-handed. The old woman dug roots and gathered berries for food; but alas! her eyesight was no longer good, and there were sometimes whole days when there was nothing in the lodge to eat.
One day the boy became very hungry, and he said to his grandfather:
"Grandfather, only make me a bow and some arrows, and I will hunt for us all!"
The first time he went out into the forest with his bow and arrows he met with a Chickadee, who said to him:
"Shoot me! I am willing to give my life to satisfy your hunger."
The boy shot and took home the tiny bird, and when he threw it down before his grandmother it was no longer a Chickadee, but a fine, fat Partridge, and the poor old folks were overcome with joy.
"Ah, ah, my grandson!" they cried. "You are indeed a hunter!"
The next day, when he went out to hunt, the boy walked a long way without seeing any game. At last he thought he heard somebody laughing in the depths of the forest.
The laughter sounded nearer and nearer as he walked on. By and by he was sure he heard some person talking to himself, and in the end he could actually make out the words, although he saw no one.
"Ha, ha," chirrupped the gay voice, "I am surely the luckiest creature alive! I leap and flit all day long from bough to bough. I am quick as a flash, so that I can easily escape my enemies. In my free and happy life there is but one thing I fear, and that is a boy"s blunt-headed arrow!"
When the boy heard this, he advanced boldly, and his quick eyes made out a snug wigwam in the hollow of a great tree. He peeped in, and saw that the house was warm and well stored with nuts of all kinds. Its little owner sat flirting his bushy tail in the corner, upon a bed of dry leaves; but as soon as he spied the boy, he ran past him with a scream of fright and scampered off among the thick woods.
The boy followed as fast as he could, and after a long chase he tired out and overtook the Squirrel, who sat coughing and grunting upon the bough of a tree just above his head.
"Boy," he exclaimed, "only spare my life, and you shall have a charm that will make you a successful hunter as long as you live!"
The boy agreed, and the Squirrel took him back to his own wigwam, where he filled the little fellow"s bag with nuts from his pile.
"These," said he, "are all lucky nuts, and if you put one of them in your pouch when you go out to hunt, you will surely kill a Bear!"
This the boy did, and to the great joy of the poor old folks he became a famous hunter, so that from that time on they never wanted meat in their lodge.
Do not harm your weaker brothers, for even a little Squirrel may be the bearer of good fortune!
NINTH EVENING
UNKTOMEE AND HIS BUNDLE OF SONGS
NINTH EVENING
"Now, my grandchildren," says Smoky Day, "I shall tell you of one who is well known in the wonder-world of our people. He is a great traveller, seems to know everybody, and is always good-natured, but he is also a shameless boaster and plays many tricks upon those he meets on the road.
No one is so wise and cunning as Unktomee, the Spider; and yet he likes to appear as simple and innocent as a child!
"His adventures are many. Sometimes he gets the better of the animal people, and again they may succeed in outwitting him, so that he is well laughed at for his trouble! We may all learn from these stories of Unktomee and his sly tricks how to be on our guard against those deceitful ones who come to us in the guise of friends."
UNKTOMEE AND HIS BUNDLE OF SONGS
It was a bright, sunshiny day, and the flocks of Ducks flying northward had all stopped to rest beside a little lake, and were splashing and paddling about in the cool water. They were happy and very noisy, but suddenly they ceased their cries and calls and became quite silent, for a queer figure was seen coming toward them along the curve of the beach.
It was the figure of a strange little old man, bent nearly double under a huge load of something that looked like dry gra.s.s.
"Quack, quack!" said one of the boldest of the Ducks, as the old man drew near with his burden. "What have you there?"
"Oh, that is only a bundle of old songs," replied Unktomee with a smile; for it was that sly one, that maker of mischief!
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Thereupon the Ducks took courage, and quacked and fluttered all about him, crying:
"Sing us an old song, Unktomee!"
Willingly Unktomee threw down his load upon the lake sh.o.r.e, and with the utmost good nature began to build a little teepee of sticks, thatching it with the dry gra.s.s. In a few minutes it was done, and he kindly invited the ducks to enter.
With rustling wings and shining feathers they crowded into the little teepee until it could hold no more.
Unktomee was there, too. He stayed by the door, and began to sing:
"Ishtogmus wachee po!
Tuwa etowan kin Ishtah ne sha kta!
(Dance with your eyes shut!
Whoever looks shall have red eyes!)"
Every one of the foolish Ducks shut his eyes tight, and Unktomee, as he sang, quietly seized one after another by the neck as they danced in a ring around the teepee, wrung their necks quickly and cast them behind them. Not one had a chance to squawk, so cleverly was the work done, and there would soon have been none to listen to the old songs!
But after a little a small Duck slyly opened his eyes, and saw Unktomee wringing the necks of his friends.
"Fly! Fly!" he exclaimed in terror. "He is killing us all!"
So all the Ducks that were left alive rose up with a mighty rush of wings and a loud clamor of voices. The gra.s.s teepee fell to pieces, and the lucky ones flew away; but lying on the ground beside Unktomee were enough fat Ducks for a fine feast!