ELEVENTH EVENING
"You are late to-night, my grandchildren," grumbles the good old wife of Smoky Day, as she stands in front of her low doorway, peering under the folds of her dark blanket at the little toiling figures slowly coming nearer, and the many twinkling lights across the snow.
"My mother gave a feast to-day," murmurs Tanagela, in her soft voice.
"There were so many people for us to serve--I could not come any sooner!
But see, grandmother! I have brought you some boiled rice and venison,"
she ends, proudly bringing out the heavy kettle from under her skin robe as they enter the well-smoked lodge.
"Ah, ah!" exclaims the story-teller, whose old eyes brighten at the sight of the good food. "We are to feast to-night, it seems; therefore I shall tell you of a feast and what came after."
THE FESTIVAL OF THE LITTLE PEOPLE
The big voice of the b.u.mble-Bee was heard in every nook and corner of the wood, and from end to end of the deep valley, for Unktomee, the generous, was giving a feast, and the Bee was his herald, the crier of the day.
"Ho, every creeper, every buzzer, all ye little people who fly without feathers, come this day to the festival!" boomed the Bee. "All must prepare to exhibit their best skill; the Toad, who can neither fly nor run, his brother the Bullfrog, with his band of musicians, and even the Flying-squirrel with the rest. Tanagela, the Humming-bird, will be the judge of beauty, and the Bat will judge your skilful performance in the air. That wise medicine-man, the Serpent, will also be there!"
So Unktomee"s herald made the cedar-fringed gulches and pine-scented hilltops fairly hum with his call.
It was in July, the Moon of Black Cherries, and the Little People gathered in great numbers at the place of the Singing Waterfall, which had been chosen for the meeting-place. The happy valley buzzed with their million voices.
Then Unktomee, the prudent, saw fit to appoint certain warriors to keep order at the festival. For many were present, therefore mishap or injustice might be.
The Wolf was ordered to watch upon the surrounding hills, so that no enemy should come near; and the Owl was appointed to keep order within the camp, and especially to see that neither the Bat, the Night-hawk nor the Swallow tribe were permitted to disturb the little insect people.
The day opened well, with a chorus of praise from the great orchestra--a sunrise song, opened by Ta-she-ya-ka, the Meadow-lark, in which even the crickets joined, with their slender instruments.
Then came the contest of beauty, in which the b.u.t.terflies, in their gauzy dresses of every color, won the first prize. The Bat, however, who was to judge of feats on the wing, had slyly made a meal of some of the lesser contestants. The Owl swooped down upon him to punish him, and there was great confusion.
Unktomee could do nothing with his guests. The Toad began to devour the smaller creepers, the Snake attacked the Toad, and even the Wolf came down from his station on the hills to make a raid upon the helpless Little People. Thus began the warfare and preying among these feeble tribes that has lasted to this day.
_It is not wise to put the strong in authority over the weak._
TWELFTH EVENING
EYA THE DEVOURER
TWELFTH EVENING
"We shall hear to-night of one good deed done by Unktomee," begins the old teacher, when all are in their places. "In the old days, longer ago than any one can remember, no one was more feared and dreaded than Eya, the Glutton, the devouring spirit that went to and fro upon the earth, able to draw all living creatures into his hideous, open mouth! His form was monstrous and terrifying. No one seemed to know what he feared, or how he might be overcome. Whole tribes of people were swallowed up by him, and there was no help!
"At last came Unktomee, and by his quick wit and genial ways got the better of this enemy of our race. He is very hard to kill, for he often comes to life again after he has been left for dead. Perhaps by Eya is meant the terrible hunger, or the sickness that runs like fire from lodge to lodge and sweeps away whole villages."
EYA THE DEVOURER
Once upon a time, an old woman who was gathering wood found a lost babe deep in the forest, and bringing him to the camp, gave him to the chief"s pretty daughter. The girl, who was very tender-hearted, took the child and cared for him as her own.
She fed him often, but he was never satisfied and continually cried for more. When he screamed, his mouth stretched from ear to ear, and far down his red throat she seemed to see a great company of people struggling in confusion. However, she told no one, but patiently tended the strange child and carried him about with her everywhere.
At dead of night, when all in the lodge were asleep, the tender-hearted maiden was aroused by the crying of her babe. As she bent over him, there seemed to come from his wide-open mouth, as if from the depths of the earth, the far-off voices of many people in distress.
Then at last she went and awoke the chief, her father, and said to him:
"Father, come and listen to the voice of my babe!"
He listened for a moment and exclaimed in horror:
"My child, this is Eya, he who devours all things, even whole villages!
This that we hear is the crying of the people whom he has swallowed. Now he has taken the form of an innocent babe and is come to destroy us!
"We must steal away quietly while he sleeps, and travel fast and far before morning."
In whispers they aroused the sleeping people, and all broke camp without disturbing the child, who once more slept in the chief"s teepee, which they left still standing.
All night they travelled at their best pace, and when morning came, they had come to a wide and deep river. Here Unktomee, the crafty one, came to meet them, smiling and rubbing his hands.
When he had learned what caused the people of a whole village to flee in the night, he kindly offered to help them against their powerful enemy.
Terrified though they were, they were even then unwilling, for they feared lest he might play some trick upon them; but Unktomee persisted, and went back upon their trail to meet the Devourer.
He had not gone far before he saw Eya hastening after the fleeing ones, his ugly mouth gaping widely and his great, unwieldy body supported by a pair of feeble legs that tottered under its weight.
"Where are you going, younger brother?" asked Unktomee, pleasantly.
"How dare you call me younger brother?" angrily returned the other. "Do you not know that I was the first one created upon the solid earth?"
"If that is so, I must be older than you," replied Unktomee, in his good-natured way, "for I was created upon the face of the water, before the dry land itself! I know whom you seek, younger brother, and am come out to help you.
"Those foolish ones whom you are following are encamped on the river close at hand, and I will lead you to them presently. They cannot escape you. Why not rest a little now, and refresh yourself with the delicacy that I have prepared for you? See, these are human ears, nicely dried for your meal!"
So saying, Unktomee pointed to a great heap of mussel sh.e.l.ls that lay upon the hill-top. The greedy monster was deceived, and hastily swallowed the sh.e.l.ls, which caused him such distress that he was helpless, and was easily dispatched by the men of the village, who now came out to kill him. No sooner had they cut open his enormous body with their knives, than a large company of people issued forth upon the plain, and began dancing and singing songs of praise for their deliverance.
THIRTEENTH EVENING
THE WARS OF WA-KEE-YAN AND UNK-TAY-HEE