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CHAPTER VIII

TALES BORROWED FROM EUROPEANS[288]

Well-established titles to European tales have been retained, even though in some instances their appropriateness to the American Indian borrowings is not immediately apparent.

LXXVIII. THE SEVEN-HEADED DRAGON[219]

(OJIBWA: Skinner, Journal of American Folk-Lore, XXIX, 330, No. 1)

THERE was once an old man living alone with his wife. They had a horse and one dog, a spaniel. They hunted and fished only in the big lake. Once upon a time they could not get any fish in the nets, and they were very hungry. The man went to look after his net in the morning, and found a jackfish with a large head. As he was going to kill the fish, it said, "Hold on, old man! Don't kill me right away!" The old man stopped, and the fish told the old man to take all its scales off and not to lose any, and to go and put these in the garden. It also told him to cut off its fins and place them in the garden, to cut its head off and give it to his wife to eat, half of its body to be fed to the dog, and the other end to the horse. He told the old man to shut the stable, but not to look at it for four days and four nights, and not to look at the scales for four days and four nights, but each morning after that he could look. The old man then killed it and took it home. He told his wife about it; and she asked, "Is that true?"--"Yes," answered the old man, and repeated all. "We will obey. We are poor and hungry; maybe we shall have good luck." He scaled and cut the fish and put it in the garden. He also fed his wife, dog, and horse as he had been told, and shut the stable. For four days and nights he could not sleep. His wife became pregnant;[166h] and on the fourth morning she had two sons, and the old man was glad. He ran to the stable, and found that the mare had two foals, the dog two pups. He went to the garden, and there was silver money where the scales had been placed. There were two fine swords where the fins had been. The old man ran in to tell his wife what had happened, and they were delighted. After that the old man caught many fish. Soon his boys grew up.

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One time, when they were home in the evening, the elder boy said, "Are there any other people in the world?"--"Certainly, there are many people."--"Where can I find them?"--"You can find them anywhere." The youth said, "I will start to-morrow to try to visit some people." He left his sword, and told his brother, "I shall take yours, and leave mine hanging here. Do not touch it! If I have trouble or if I am killed, it will become rusty."[149] Then he went off. About dinner-time he dismounted and drank from a spring. He found silver water; and when he dipped his little finger into it, it became solid silver. He put some of the water on the horse's ears, and they became silver. He did the same to the dog's and also on his own hair. Then he started off.

When he came to a large town, he took off his clothes, found some old ones, and put rags around his finger and a handkerchief over his hair. He had a little box in which he put the horse and dog after making them small and hid them in a blacksmith's shop. The blacksmith looked at him. "Where are you from?"--"Is there a town here? I am very poor."--"Oh, come in!" The blacksmith fed him. The man said, "I can keep you here," and engaged him to do the chores in the house. He staid there a while, when one night the blacksmith came home and said, "The king of this town has a fine daughter, and she is going to be fed to the Windigo that has eight heads. He eats only people."--"When is she going to be taken there?"--"To-morrow morning."

The next day, after his work, the young man went out. He mounted his horse, took his dog, put on his own clothes, and rode out of the city. After a while he heard some one weeping in the woods. He turned in that direction, and found a young girl who was crying. She stopped when she saw him. The young man asked her, "Why are you crying?"--"There is no use telling you."--"Oh, no! tell me! Where are you going?"--"There is no use telling you."--"Oh, yes! you must tell me." Then the girl, seeing that he was a stranger, said, "I will tell you. I am going to yonder bluff. There is an eight-headed manitou there, and I am going to be eaten by him."--"Why?"--"He wants me."--"What if you do not go?"--"Then he would devour every one in the city. Therefore I must go."

Then the youth said, "I will go first. You can go when I come back."--"No, No! you must not go. I am not going

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there for life, I am going there to die."--"If that is so, I must see him first."--"Oh, no!" The young man said, "I will go and come back. You stay here."--"Well, go on! but he will kill you," and she gave the boy a ring. He then went to the bluff, and saw that the trees were shaken by the breath of the manitou. He stopped, and said to his horse and dog, "Try as hard as you can to help me," and then he rode on. The horse and dog sank deep into the soil. The boy took his sword and cut off one head, which sprang back again. Then he told his dog to catch it;. and he hit the monster again, cutting off another of his heads. The dog seized it and shook it. The youth cut off another one, and the horse kicked it. When he had cut off four heads, the manitou was not breathing very strongly. Finally he killed him. He cut out all the tongues and put them in a handkerchief. When he came back, he found the girl waiting, and told her that he had killed the manitou. He told the girl to go home and take the tongues with her, but not to tell who killed the manitou. "Give the tongues to your father, and say that a young fellow did it, but that you do not know who."

The blacksmith was working at home. "Where are you going,--home? No, you have to be eaten by the manitou."--"The manitou has been killed."--"Nobody can kill him." The girl showed him the tongues. Then the blacksmith believed her, and asked her who had killed him. "I do not know, he is a youth."--"Go home and tell your father that I killed him. If you don't, I will kill you." The girl agreed, and he went with her. Her father and mother asked her why she had come back, and she told them that the blacksmith had killed the manitou. She called him in, and they asked him, "How did you do it?"--"I hit his tongues."

The king was very glad, and gave the girl to the blacksmith. The youth went home, put his horse back into the box, and dressed in his old clothes.

There was to be a four-days' dance before the wedding. After three night's dance, the blacksmith was very glad, and told the boy that this was the last night. Then the lad put on his clothes. He came into the lodge and sat down by the door. The girl knew him at once, and told her father secretly that he had slain the monster. The king invited him to a better place. The blacksmith wanted to go out, pretending that his

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stomach pained him, but he was not allowed to leave. He was locked up, taken to the sea, and thrown in. The youth married the girl; and the king gave him half of the town, half of his money, and half of everything he owned, he was so glad that his daughter had been saved.

They went upstairs into their rooms. There was a window at the top on the east side of the house, and from there could be seen a blue fire at a distance.

"What kind of fire is that?" asked the youth.

"Do not ask about it," said the princess, "and never go near it."

On the next day he took his little horse and dog and went to the fire. There he saw an old, long house. He entered the first room, but there was no one there. After a while he heard some one. The door opened, and a white-headed old woman came in, and said, "Grandchild, hold your little dog, he will bite me. I am cold."--"Warm yourself, the dog will not touch you."--"You must tie him"--"I have nothing to tie him with." So the old lady gave him one hair, and said, "Nosis, tie him with that." The youth did so, and also tied the horse. The old woman had a cane. She touched him with it on the feet, and he died.

One morning the other youth, who had been left at home, saw rust on the sword. He said to his father, " I fear brother is dead somewhere, for his sword is rusty. I must go and try to find him." His father consented, and told him to be careful.

The next morning the elder brother left. About noon he found the same spring, and did as his brother had done. In the evening he came to the city and went to the chief's house. The girl came out and kissed him, and asked him where he had been, but he did not answer. They had supper, and he thought to himself "That must be my brother's wife." At night he refused to go to bed. Through the window he saw the blue fires. He asked, "What kind of fires are those?"--"Why did you not go over to see?"

In the morning he went there. When he arrived there, he saw his brother's horse and dog tied with brass wire, lying down and frozen to death. He went into the lodge, and saw that his brother also lay dead by the fire. Soon he heard some one coming. An old woman appeared, and said, "I am cold."--"Warm yourself by the fire."--"First tie your little dog."

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He refused to do so, and finally said, "Now, granny, make that man and horse and dog alive! If you do not do so at once, I shall send the dog after you."--"Nosis, I cannot bring a dead man to life"--"You have to."--"No."

Then he set his dog on her. The dog bit her, and the horse kicked her.

"Stop! I'll bring them to life." He stopped the animals, and the old woman walked forward. The youth kept away from her cane. She told him to take up a little bottle and put it on his frozen brother. As soon as he dropped some of the liquid from the bottle into his mouth, he came to. She did the same to the dog and to the horse. Then the brothers killed the old woman. They took the bottle away from her and went home. As. they rode along together, the elder brother said, "You must be married. Yes. Your wife mistook me for you, but I only let her sleep with my arm. That's how I found out."

The younger brother, on hearing this, became jealous. He drew back and shot his brother with his revolver. He also shot his dog and horse. Then he went home, and his wife was glad to see him. She asked him why he refused to sleep with her last night. "You only let me have your hand." Then the brother began to sorrow for his brother. He took his horse and went back to the corpse. There he wept over his brother. His little dog ran around the dead body, and began to look inside the coat. There he found the old woman's little bottle. He put some of the liquid on the wound, and thus brought the brother back to life. Then he dropped some on the dog and the horse, and they all came to. They went home, put their horses and dogs away, entered the lodge, and sat down. The younger one's wife saw them, and was unable to tell them apart. On the following day they started to return to their parents. When they came to a forked road, they decided to go in different directions. The elder one took one road, and said, "I will go this way, and my name will be God." The other said, "I will follow the other, and I will be the Devil." That's the end of it.

LXXIX. JOHN THE BEAR[290]

(ASSINIBOIN: Lowie, Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, iv, 147)

A man was living with his wife. It was summer. The woman was pregnant. One day, while she was picking berries, a big

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bear saw and abducted the woman, whom he kept in his cave. Before spring, the woman gave birth to a child begotten by her first husband, but with plenty of hair on his body, wherefore he was called Icmá (Plenty-of-Hair). In the spring the bear came out of his cave. The boy looked outside and told his mother, "We had better run away to where you first came from." But the bear had stopped up the entrance with a big rock, and the woman said, "We can't get out, the rock is too heavy." The boy tried it, and was able to lift it. They fled before the bear returned. They were already near the Indian camp when they heard the bear coming in pursuit. The woman was exhausted, but the boy packed her on his back and ran to the camp. At first, the woman went to a stranger's lodge. Then someone told her husband that his wife was back. The chief then took both her and his son home.

The boy used to play with other boys. Once he quarreled with one of them and killed him with a single blow. This happened again on another occasion. Then Icmá said to his father, "I don't like to kill any more boys; I'll go traveling." He started out and met two men, who became his comrades. One of them was called Wood-Twister, the other Timber-Hauler. They got to a good lodge, and decided to stay there together. On the first day, Icmá and Wood-Twister went hunting. They bade Timber-Hauler stay home and cook. While they were away, an ogre that lived in the lodge came out, threw Timber-Hauler on his back, and killed him. The two other men found him dead, but Icmá restored him to life. The next day Icmá said, "Wood-Twister, you stay home, I'll go hunting with Timber-Hauler." At sunset Wood-Twister began cutting firewood. He saw something coming out of the lodge that looked like a man, but wearing a beard down to its waist and with nails as long as bear-claws. It assaulted Wood-Twister, who was found dying by his friends, but was restored by Icmá. The next day Icmá said "You two go hunting, I will stay home." As he was beginning to chop wood, the monster appeared and challenged him to fight. Icmá seized its head, cut it off, and left the body in the lodge. When his comrades returned, Icmá asked them, "Why did not you kill him like this?" Then he said, "I don't like this house; let us, go traveling."

They started out and got to a large camp. The chief said, "My three daughters have been stolen by a subterranean being.

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Whoever brings them back, may marry them all." Icmá told Timber-Hauler to get wood and ordered Wood-Twister to twist a rope of it. Then he made a hole in the ground and put in a box to lower himself in. He descended to the underground country and pulled the rope to inform his friends of his arrival. He found the three girls. The first one was guarded by a mountain-lion, the second by a big eagle, the third by giant cannibals. Icmá killed the lion. The girl said, "You had better turn back, the eagle will kill you." But he slew the eagle. Then the girl said, "The cannibals are bad men, you had better go home." "I'll wait for them." The twelve cannibals approached yelling; they were as big as trees. The girl said, "Run as fast as you can." But Icmá remained, and made two slings. With the first he hurled a stone that went clean through six of the men and killed them; and with the other sling he killed the remaining cannibals in the same way. One of the girls gave him a handkerchief, another one a tie, and the youngest one a ring. He took them to his box, and pulled the rope. His two comrades hoisted up the oldest one. Both wanted to marry her, but Icmá pulled the rope again, and they hauled up the second girl. Then Icmá sat down in the box with the youngest, and pulled the rope. As they were hauling them up, Wood-Twister said, "Let us cut the rope." The other man refused, but Wood-Twister cut the rope, and Icmá fell down. He stayed there a long time, while his companions took the girls to the chief.

At last Icmá begged a large bird to carry him above ground. The bird said he did not have enough to eat for such a trip. Then Icmá killed five moose, and having packed the meat on the bird's back, mounted with the third girl. Flying up, Icmá fed the bird with moose-meat, and when his supply was exhausted, he cut off his own flesh and gave it to the bird to eat. Icmá came up on the day when his false friends were going to marry the girls. All the people were gathered there. Icmá arrived. "I should like to go into the lodge before they get married." When he came in, Wood-Twister was frightened. "I should like to go out, I'll be back in a short time," he said. But he never returned. Then the chief asked, "Which of you three rescued the girls?" Then Icmá showed the handkerchief, the tie and the ring given him by the girls, and got all the three girls for his wives.

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LXXX. THE ENCHANTED HORSE[291]

(MALECITE: Mechling, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xxvi, 247, No. 5)

There was once an old man that had a son named Louis who used to go hunting to support his parents, for they were very poor. One day while he was hunting, a gentleman came to visit his parents. This gentleman offered the old man a beaver hat full of gold for his son, and promised to take good care of the boy, whose only duties should be to tend the gentleman's horses.

"In about twenty years you will get your son back," said he.

The old man communicated the offer of the gentleman to his wife. She, however, was not anxious to accept it. Then the old man, goaded by the thoughts of their poverty, tried to persuade her, and he finally accepted the offer against his wife's inclinations. The gentleman waited for Louis to arrive, and then he took him away.

When he arrived at his home, he showed the boy over his house, and gave him permission to eat and drink whatever he cared to. He also showed him two pots,--one full of gold and the other full of silver,--which he told Louis not to touch. Later he took him to the stable where he kept the horses, and showed him a black horse in the farthest stall, telling him to be very particular about caring for that horse. Among other things, he gave him orders to wash him three times, and to take him to water three times every day. Then he pointed out to him a gray horse, and ordered him to beat him three times a day, to give him very little to eat, and to water him only once in twenty-four hours. Further, he told him never to take the bridle off that gray horse. After this, he told Louis that he was going on a journey, and would not return for a few weeks.

Louis carried out the gentleman's instructions, and, when two weeks had passed, the gentleman returned. The first thing he did was to go into the stable and examine his horses. He was well pleased with the looks of his black horse, and was also pleased to note that the gray one was looking very poorly. While they were returning to the house together, the gentleman began to play with Louis, who noted that he had a knife in his hand, and was not surprised when his finger was soon cut by it. The gentleman, however, apologized, and, taking a bottle out of his pocket, rubbed a little of the liquid on Louis' finger.

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Louis was greatly surprised to find that his finger was at once entirely healed.

Later in the day, he told Louis that he was going away again (for a week, this time), and told him to be careful to treat the horses as he had done before. When he had gone, Louis' curiosity got the better of him. He took the cover off the pots, and dipped his finger into the golden liquid. When he pulled it out, lo, and behold! his finger was changed to gold. At once he saw that his master would know what he had done, and, to hide his finger, he wrapped it up in a piece of rag. In addition, Louis' pity overcame him, and he did not beat the gray horse.

At the end of the week, the gentleman returned and asked Louis how the horses were. He was well satisfied after his inspection of the stable. Again he began to play with Louis, his knife in his hand. While he was playing with him, he noticed that Louis' finger was wrapped up, and he inquired of Louis what was the matter with his finger. Louis replied that he had cut it. The gentleman pulled the rag off, and seeing that Louis' finger had turned to gold, he knew that Louis had been meddling with the pots. He became very angry, and grasped Louis' finger, twisted it, pulled it off, and threw it back into the pot, warning Louis not to touch the pots again. He played with him as before, and again cut him on the hand. A second time he applied the liquid, and again the boy's hand was healed immediately.

He again told Louis that he was going away, and would be gone for three weeks, and ordered him to beat the gray horse on this occasion five times each day.

That day Louis watered the horses, and, noticing that the gray horse could hardly drink any water with the bit in his mouth, he took pity on him, removed the bridle, and gave the horse a good drink. When the horse lifted his head from the brook and looked at Louis, he had a man's face on him and he spoke to Louis as follows: "You have saved me. If you do as I tell you, we both shall be saved. The master is not a man, but the Devil. He came to my parents as he did to yours, and bought me with a beaver hat full of money. Every time he comes and cuts you, he is trying you to see if you are fat enough to be killed. When he returns this time, he will again try you, and, if he finds that you are not fat enough, he will turn you into a horse. If you are fat enough, he will kill you. If you do

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as I tell you, Louis, we both shall be saved. Now feed me as well as you can for two weeks; put my bridle on the black horse, and beat him five times a day. In short, give him the treatment which was destined for me."

Louis did as the Gray Horse requested, and the animal began to recover his lost weight. The black horse lost weight rapidly. After the two weeks were up, the gray horse was in good condition; the black horse was very poorly.

"Now," said the Gray Horse," the Devil suspects that things have not gone properly, and he is returning. Now we must prepare speedily to leave. Since his black horse is very swift, you must go and cut his legs off: cut the left foreleg off below the knee; cut the right fore-leg off away above the knee; cut the right hind-leg off below the knee; and the left hind-leg, away above the knee. He will not then be able to travel so fast, for his legs will be short and of different lengths."

When Louis had completed his task, the Gray Horse told him to go to the house and get the pots of silver and gold; and, on Louis' return with them, the Horse told Louis to dip his tail in the silver pot, and to dip his mane and ears in the gold one.

"And you dip your hair into the gold pot," said the Horse, "and stick your little fingers into the metal. Take the saddle and put it on me, but, before we start, go into the house and get three grains of black corn which he has upon his shelf, and take his flint, steel, and punk. Take, also, an awl, that round pebble which comes from the seashore, and then take that wisp of hay which is pointed."

Louis did as the Horse bade him, and then mounted on his back and rode away.

The Devil returned two days after they had started, and, when he saw that the gray horse had gone and the black horse was mutilated, he knew what had taken place. This enraged him very much, and he at once began to think how he could outwit the fugitives. Finally he set out in pursuit.

After Louis and the Gray Horse had been gone several days, the Gray Horse spoke to the boy, and said, "The Devil and the black horse are pretty close. You did not cut his legs short enough. Give me one of those grains of black corn, and I'll go a little faster."

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Louis gave him one of the grains of black corn, and the Gray Horse traveled much faster. After a few days had passed, the Horse again said, "Louis, he is getting very close. You will have to give me another grain."

So Louis gave him a second grain, and the Gray Horse increased his speed. Three days later, the Gray Horse said to Louis, "Give me the last grain. He is getting very close."

After three more days, the Gray Horse again spoke, and said, "Louis, he is very close. Throw the awl behind you."[205]

Louis did as he was told, and the Horse said, "Now, that awl has made a great field of thorn-bushes grow, many miles in extent."

When the Devil rode up, he was going so fast that he rode right in among the thorns, and got his horse out only after a great deal of trouble. By the time he had extricated his. horse and had ridden around the field, Louis had gained a great distance over him.

"Louis, he is getting very close," said the Horse some days later. "Throw back the flint."

Louis obeyed him, with the result that, when the Devil came up, he was confronted by a high wall of bare rock, which extended for miles. He was forced to go around this, and, when he once more took up the trail, Louis had gained many more miles on him. After a couple of days, the Gray Horse said, "Louis, we have only two things left, and I am afraid that we are going to have a hard time."

"I think," said Louis, "we had better throw the punk behind." With that he threw the punk behind him. When it struck the ground, it immediately burst into flame, starting a forest fire which extended many miles.

When the Devil arrived, he was going too fast to avoid riding into the fire, and this caused him great trouble. He had to go many miles out of his way to avoid the fire, and this delay enabled the fugitives to make a material gain in distance. In two or three days the Devil had regained the distance that he had lost.

The Gray Horse now said to Louis, "I am afraid that he is going to overtake us before we can reach the sea. He is gaining rapidly upon us, and is now very close. You had better throw the pebble behind you; it is the only chance left us."

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Louis threw the pebble behind them; and the result was that a great lake appeared, which extended over many square miles. The Devil rode up to the lake, and, knowing whither they had gone, he travelled around it. This manúuvre cost the Devil the loss of many valuable miles, for Louis and the Gray Horse were by this time quite close to the sea.

"He is still gaining on us." said the Gray Horse. "I'm getting very tired."

Looking ahead, Louis could see the ocean, and turning around, he could see the Devil coming, gaining on them all the time.

"Louis, I am afraid he is going to overtake us," said the Horse.

Now, Louis did not understand what advantage it would be for them to arrive at the sea; but this was soon apparent. They did manage to reach the seashore ahead of the Devil, however, when the Gray Horse said, "Louis, throw out that wisp of hay."

Louis pushed it out, and, behold! as he thrust it, the wisp of hay was converted into a bridge. They immediately rode out upon this, and as they passed over it, the bridge folded up behind them! The Devil did not reach the sea until they were a safe distance from the shore.

"It was very lucky," the Devil said, "that you took my bridge with you, or I would have eaten you two for my dinner! "

Now, Louis and his horse continued to cross the bridge until they came to the land on the other side. While travelling along through this new country, they discovered a cave.

"Now," the Gray Horse said to Louis, "you stable me in here, and go up to the king's house and see if you cannot get work. Wrap up your head in order that your hair may not be seen, and do the same to your little fingers. When you arrive there, go and lie with your face down behind the kitchen, and wait until they throw out the dish-water. They will ask you what you want. Tell them that you desire work, and that you are a good gardener. Do not forget to comb your hair once a day in the garden, where they cannot see you."

The young man did all the Gray Horse suggested, and, when one of the maids threw out some dish-water behind the kitchen, she noticed him, and straightway notified the king. His Majesty ordered the youth to be brought before him, and, when

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Louis had come, the king inquired into his identity and his desires. Louis told the king that he wanted work, and the king employed him as a gardener, because Louis claimed greater ability than the other gardeners. Every noon he would seclude himself to comb his hair, and then he would tie up his head again in the cloth. Although he was quite handsome, he did not look well with his head tied up in this manner. His work, moreover, was so excellent that the king soon noticed an improvement in the garden.

One day, while he was combing his hair, the princess looked out of her window, and saw Louis' hair. She noticed that the hair was all of gold; and the light from it shone into her room as it would if reflected from a mirror. Louis did not notice her, and, when he had completed his toilet, he wrapped up his head again and went away, leaving the princess enchanted by his looks.

During the same afternoon, while he was working near the palace, the princess dropped a note down to him. Louis did not see it, and therefore did not pay any attention to it. She then dropped several more, one after another; but he paid no attention to them.

The next day, he thought he would go down and see his horse. When he arrived at the cave, the Gray Horse inquired what had happened. Louis related the few events to him; but the Gray Horse told him that that was not all, for he had not noticed the princess looking at him when he was combing his hair.

"To-morrow," said the Horse, "the king will ask you if you are descended of royal blood. You tell him that you are the child of poor parents. There is a prince who wants to marry the princess; but she does not love him. When you go back to work in the garden, the princess will drop notes to you again, but don't touch them. Louis, in time you shall marry her, but don't forget me."

Louis returned, and the princess again dropped him notes; but he ignored them.

In the meantime the prince had come to see the princess, and he made arrangements with the king to marry his daughter. The princess, however, would not look at the prince. The king demanded of his daughter why she did not want to see the prince, and she told him that she desired to marry the gardener.

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The king became very angry; he declared that she could not marry the poor beggar.

"Did you not always say that you would give me anything I wanted?" she asked of the king.

"Yes," answered he; "but you must marry a prince."

She again refused to marry the prince. At this, the king became very angry, and went out to tell his wife what the princess had said.

"I think the gardener is a prince in disguise," the queen said to the king.

The king summoned Louis into his presence; and the young man, obeying, came into the midst of the royalty and nobility of the palace, with his head still covered. The king asked him if he was of royal blood.

"No," he replied. "I am the son of poor parents."

The king then dismissed him.

The princess, however, contrived a means to marry Louis, and, when the ceremony was over, they went back to the king. She told her father what she had done, and asked for her dowry. He told her that her dowry should be the pig-pen in which he fattened his hogs; and he drove them from the palace with nothing more. The queen was in tears at the way the king treated their daughter; but he was obdurate.

The princess and Louis had to subsist on what little the queen could send them. Soon the princess said to Louis, "We had better go to the place where your parents live."

"No," said Louis, "we must go where the king sends us, for his will is my pleasure."

So they went to the pig-pen and fixed up a place to sleep. Every day the princess went to the palace, and the servants there would give her what was left from the table. This continued for several weeks, until, one day, Louis thought of his Horse. He went over to the cave to find out how he was doing.

"Well, Louis, I see that you are married, and that your father-in-law is treating you pretty badly," the Horse said to him. "Now you look in my left ear, and you will see a cloth folded up."

Louis did as directed; and the Gray Horse continued, "Take the cloth. At meal-time unfold it, and you will find inside all sorts of food of the finest kind. Come back and see me tomorrow."

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Louis returned to his hog-pen, where his wife had the leavings from the palace table arranged for supper.

"Take this cloth and unfold it," said he.

And when she unfolded it, she was amazed to see delicious food and fine wines all ready to eat and drink. This was the first decent meal that they had eaten since they were married. The next day he again went back to see the Horse, who asked Louis if he had heard any news. Louis said that he had not.

"Well," said the Gray Horse, "I did. Your father-in-law is going to war to-morrow, because his daughter did not marry the prince to whom she was betrothed. Louis, you had better go too. Send your wife up to borrow a horse and arms, and you go with him."

On returning to his hog-pen, Louis told his wife what he had heard and what he wished her to do. So she went up to the castle to borrow a horse and armor. The king at first refused to give it; but the queen finally persuaded him to loan his son-in-law a horse. Thus Louis was equipped with a gray mare and an old sword. Louis accepted this; and the next morning, when the king started with his followers, Louis went forth mounted on the gray mare. He found, however, that she was too old to carry him: so he rode her down to the cave. There the Gray Horse told him to look in his right ear for a little box. Louis did so, and found the article. On opening this box, he found a ring inside it. The Horse told him that he could now get anything he wished for, and directed him to wish for arms and armor better than the king's own. Louis did so, and the armor immediately appeared. When Louis had donned it, the Gray Horse told him to comb his mane and tail; and after this was done, they started, quite resplendent. While they were passing the pig-pen, Louis' wife, mistaking him for a foreign king, begged him not to kill her father, and Louis promised not to hurt the old gentleman.

The fight was already raging when Louis arrived, and the enemy was pressing the king hard; but he came at just the right time, and turned the tide of the battle. Not recognizing him, the king thanked him (a strange prince, as he thought) for his assistance; and the two rode back together. On the way they began to race; for the king was proud of his steed, and was fond of showing him off. Louis, however, far out-distanced him, and rode on to the cave, where he unsaddled his horse, resumed his old clothes, and tied up his head.

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Before he departed, the Gray Horse told him that the king would go to war again on the morrow, and that he, Louis, should once more borrow the horse and sword. He took the old gray mare and the sword back to the pig-pen. His wife inquired eagerly how her father had fared. Louis answered that the king had been successful, and told her to take the horse and the sword back to the palace.

When she arrived, she told her father that her husband wished her to thank him for the horse and the sword. Whereupon the king inquired if Louis had been present at the battle, for, he said, he had not seen him. The princess replied that he had indeed been there; and truly, if it had not been for Louis, the king would not have won the battle. The king replied that he was sure that Louis was not there, or else he would have seen him; and he persisted in this view.

The princess, being unable to convince her father, returned to the pig-pen.

When the princess had left, the queen said that Louis must have been in the fight, for, if he had not been there, he would not have known about it.

"Was there no stranger there?" she asked.

"Yes," returned the king. "There was a strange prince there, who helped me."

"Well," said the queen, "that must have been your son-in-law."

Back in the pig-pen, the princess told her husband that the king was saying that he had not been at the battle.

"If it had not been for me," Louis replied, "the king would not have won the battle." And so the matter was dropped.

The next morning he sent his wife up to borrow the horse and equipment again. The king gave his daughter the same outfit. Again Louis went to the cave, where he again changed horses and armor. Once more, when he passed his hovel, his wife did not recognize him. When Louis arrived, the battle was going against the king, as on the former occasion; but the young man a second time turned the tide in favor of his father-in-law.

After the battle was over, Louis and the king rode back together. The king wished to find out who this prince might be, and he determined to put a mark on him, so that he would recognize him again. He took out his sword to show how he had overcome one of his adversaries in battle, and stabbed his

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son-in-law in the leg. A piece of the king's sword had broken off, and was left in the wound. The king pretended to be very sorry, and tied up the wound. When they started off again, Louis put spurs to his horse, and when he reached the cave he again changed horses. Then he returned to the pig-pen with the old gray mare.

He was cut so badly, that he could walk only with difficulty. When his wife inquired if he had been wounded, be explained how her father had done it. Thereupon his wife took the handkerchief off, took out the piece of sword, and rebound the wound. Then she took the horse and sword, together with the broken piece of the king's sword and his handkerchief, to her father.

She told her father that her husband sent back the handkerchief and the piece of sword, and also his thanks for stabbing him after he had won the battle. The king was so much surprised that he almost fainted. The queen began to scold the king, saying, "Did I not tell you that he was a prince?"

The king sent his daughter to the pig-pen to get her husband, so that he could ask his forgiveness. Louis refused to go, saying that the king's word was law, and was not to be altered. He was confined to his bed on account of the wound which he had received. The princess returned, and told her father what her husband had said. He then sent down his chief men to coax Louis, but they were refused every time. Finally, the king and the queen themselves went down and asked Louis' forgiveness; but Louis repeated his refusal. The king rushed up, but he was mired in the mud which surrounded the pig-pen. The queen, however, was able to cross on top of the mud, leaving the king, who returned alone to his palace.

The same night, Louis took his ring and wished that he and his wife should wake in the morning in a beautiful castle and when the day came, lo, and behold! it was as he desired. In surprise, the king saw the castle, and sent Louis a note, saying that he desired to wage war with him. The young man sent a reply, that, by the time he fired his second shot, there would not be even a cat left in the king's city. This note he sent by his wife, and requested her to bring her mother back with her.

The king's daughter obeyed, and brought her mother back.

That afternoon, the king fired on his son-in-law's castle, but did no damage. Louis then warned the king that he was going

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to begin his cannonade, and straightway fired. His first shot carried away half of the city, and the second swept away all that was left of it.

LXXXI. LITTLE POUCET[291]

(THOMPSON: Teit, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xxix, 318, No. II)

Jack and his elder brother lived with their parents, who had a cook. They were enormous eaters; and when food was put on the table, they rapidly ate it all up, so that their parents had not enough. As they grew, they ate more; and at meal-time, even when the table was loaded with food, their parents had eaten only a few mouthfuls before all the food was finished.

Their parents made up their minds to get rid of them. They told the cook to provide them with a large lunch each, take them to a rough part of the mountains, and leave them. Jack read his parents' minds, and told his elder brother what was proposed. That day he went to a wise and friendly old woman who lived near by, and asked her for advice. She gave him a large reel of thread and told him what to do. Next morning the cook provided them with packs of food, and told them he would take them to hunt grouse. They followed him; and as they went, Jack unrolled the thread unobserved by the cook. When the thread was almost all unrolled, the cook halted in a wild spot, saying, "We will camp here for to-night. I am going over yonder to shoot some grouse, and will be back before dusk."

As soon as he was out of sight, the lads followed the thread back to their home, and arrived there shortly after the cook, and just as their parents were going to eat. Having left their lunch in the mountains, they were very hungry, and ate up the supper almost before their parents had commenced.

Their parents told the cook to take them farther away next time. Jack knew what they had arranged, and went to see the old woman again. She gave him a sack full of fine powder, which shone both by day and by night, but was brightest at night, and she told him what to do. On the following morning the cook said he would take them hunting. As they followed the cook, Jack sprinkled the phosphorescent dust along the way. When the sack was about empty, the cook said, "We will camp here. I will go to yonder brush and shoot rabbits. Stay here until I return." As soon as he was out of sight, the boys

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ran back along the sprinkled trail. When they were about halfway back in a rough piece of country, they ran into a very large flock of small birds, and chased them hither and thither, trying to catch them.

In this way they lost their trail. They searched for a long time, but could not find it. They wandered on, not knowing where they were going. They descended from the mountains, and came to a plain where they saw a butte with a very tall pine-tree growing on top. They went there. The elder brother tried to climb the tree, but he became dizzy and descended again. Then Jack went up, reached the top, and looked around. Far away he saw a column of smoke, and called to his brother to turn his face the way he pointed. Jack descended, and they travelled the way his brother was facing. At night they camped, and sat facing the same way, so that they might not go astray.

The next day they reached a large underground lodge. They were almost famished. Their shoes and clothes were in tatters. They found an old woman within, who fed them and then hid them in the cellar within the house. She told them that her husband was a cannibal. The cannibal and his wife had two children of the same size as Jack and his brother. Being young cannibals, they sniffed around Jack and his brother, and, when they were in the cellar, continued to sniff about, so that their mother had to drive them away. Towards evening the cannibal approached the house, saying, "Nôm, nôm, nôm, where can I get some meat?" On entering, he told his wife that he smelled game within the house; and she, on being threatened with a thrashing, disclosed the fact that the boys were hidden in the cellar. Jack told his brother that he would influence the cannibal's mind, so that they might be spared.

The cannibal pulled them out of the cellar, and was about to eat them. Then he hesitated, and began to look them over. He said, "They are too thin." He put them back into the cellar, and told his wife to feed them well and give them a good place to sleep, that they might get fat and tender quickly. The next day the woman made a bed for them. After they had been in the house for some time, the cannibal told his wife the boys were now fit to eat, and he would kill them in the morning.

Jack knew his intention. He made the cannibal and his family sleep very soundly that night. The lads arose, and placed the cannibal's children in the bed in which they themselves had

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been, and put logs of rotten wood in the bed of the cannibal's children. They took the cannibal's magic staff of gold, four stones which, as he learned afterwards, were gold nuggets, and the key of his door. When any one attempted to open the house-door except with the proper key, a bell would ring.

In the morning, when the cannibal awoke, he immediately went to the bed in which the boys used to sleep, and killed his own children, whom he mistook for the captive boys. When about to eat them, he noticed their fingers, and thus realized that he had killed his own children. He uncovered what seemed to be children in the other bed, and found the logs of rotten wood.

The cannibal gave chase to Jack and his brother, who by this time were far away. When the lads saw that they would be overtaken, they hid themselves in the roots of a patch of tall grass. The cannibal, who had lost track of the boys, returned in another direction. As soon as he was out of sight, the lads ran on. Then the cannibal found their tracks again. The boys had just reached a broad lake, when he hove in sight. Jack threw his staff down on the water, and they crossed it as on a bridge. When they reached the opposite shore, he lifted it up, and the cannibal could not cross. He shouted, "I will forgive you, I will not harm you, if you will only give me back my staff!" but Jack stuck the staff in the ground at the edge of the lake, and left the cannibal crying.

Not far from here they came to a large town of whites, where there was a chief and many soldiers, also many houses, stores, and farms. The cannibal used to prey on these people, who were much afraid of him. Here Jack and his brother separated, each getting work on a different farm.

Jack's brother became jealous of him, and sought to accomplish his death by putting him in danger. He told his master that Jack intended to steal the large bell belonging to the cannibal. Jack's master heard of this, and asked him if it were true, adding that his elder brother had said so. Jack said, "Very well. I will go and get the bell. You will all see it." The cannibal kept the bell on a wheeled vehicle alongside his house. It was very large. Jack went at night, and, crossing the lake by means of the staff, he soon reached the cannibal's house. He caused a deep sleep to fall on the cannibal, his wife, and the bell. This bell could hear a long way off, and warned

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the cannibal of danger by ringing. Jack ran off with the bell, hauling it in a wagon. Just as he had reached the opposite side of the lake, the cannibal arrived at the shore. Jack drew in the staff, and stuck it in the ground. The cannibal begged for the staff, saying, "You may keep the bell, but give me back my staff, with which I cross water." Jack left him crying, and proceeded, to town, where he displayed the bell to all the people.

After this, Jack's brother circulated the story that Jack intended to steal the cannibal's light. His master asked him about it, and he said he would do it. He took with him three small sacks of salt. When he came to the cannibal's house, he looked down the smoke-hole. He saw the cannibal busy boiling a large kettle full of human flesh, which was now almost ready to be eaten. Jack emptied one sack full of salt into the kettle. The cannibal had a large spoon with which he was tasting the broth. When he took the next spoonful, he found the taste so agreeable that he forgot to eat any of the meat, and drank only of the soup. He said, "This must be delicious game I am boiling, to make the broth so nice." Jack wanted to make him go to drink, so that he could steal the light. He threw in the other sack of salt. The cannibal went to the creek to drink, but, instead of leaving the light, took it with him attached to his forehead. Jack ran down to the trail and hid. When the cannibal was returning, he suddenly jumped up, and threw the salt in the cannibal's face and on the light, so that neither of them could see. The cannibal was so much startled that he ran away, and in his hurry and blindness struck his toe on a tuft of grass and fell down heavily. The light rolled off his head. Jack seized it and ran off. This light could see a long way off, and told the cannibal what it saw. It saw farthest at night. The cannibal could not follow Jack, because it was very dark and he had no proper light. Jack carried the light to town, and displayed it to the people.

Next Jack's brother told that Jack was going to bring in the cannibal himself. His master asked him regarding it, and he said he would do it. He went to the blacksmith and had a large trunk made of iron, with a lid which shut with a spring. When it was finished, Jack went into it and tried it with all his strength. He found the box was too weak. Therefore he ordered the blacksmith to re-enforce it with heavy iron bands. He placed the trunk on a wagon, to which he harnessed a fine

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team, and drove to the cannibal's house, crossing the lake on the magic staff. The cannibal came out and admired the team, wagon, and trunk. He did not recognize Jack, and thought he would kill the visitor and take his wagon, trunk, and team. The cannibal admired the trunk, which was polished and looked like steel. Jack opened the lid to show him the inside, which was decorated with carvings, pictures in colors, and looking-glasses. Jack proposed to sell the trunk to the cannibal, and asked him to go in and try it. The cannibal told Jack to go in first. Jack went in, lay down at full length, and claimed that it was very comfortable. The cannibal then went in and Jack shut the lid on him.

The cannibal struggled to free himself, and at times nearly capsized the trunk; but Jack drove him into town, where he stopped in the square. The chief and soldiers and all the people flocked to see the cannibal who had been killing them. They lifted him off the wagon, and asked Jack to liberate him. Jack said if he liberated him, he would kill all the people, and proposed to them to light a fire, and to roast him to death in the trunk. Jack's brother asked him to open the trunk, but he would not consent. Jack's brother said, "There is no danger. See these hundreds of armed soldiers." Jack said, "It matters not, for neither arrows, nor bullets, nor knives, can penetrate him. He will kill everybody." His brother laughed. Jack said, "I will give you the key of the trunk, and you may open it in four hours from now." The whites wanted to have some fun with their enemy. When Jack had been gone four hours, and while he was sitting on the top of a distant hill overlooking the town, his brother opened the trunk. The cannibal, who was in a violent rage, killed every one of the people, including Jack's brother. There were none left. After this Jack travelled. Some say he turned foolish, and became Jack the Trickster.

LXXXII. THE WHITE CAT[293]

(CHILCOTIN: Farrand, Jesup North Pacific Expedition, ii, 26, No. II)

Thunder was a great chief who lived in the sky, and he had three daughters, whom all the young men from the earth wished to marry' but could not get; for whenever a suitor came to ask Thunder for one of his daughters, Thunder would kill him.

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He would tell the young man to go into the house to get food, and would open the door for him, and the young man would go inside; but the house was really a bear's den, and the bears would kill him. Finally there came a young man to try for one of the daughters; and as he came near the house, he saw a small lake in which the three women were bathing. The man hid himself, and stole over to where the women's clothes were lying, and sat down upon them; and the women were ashamed and would not come out. So they sat down in the water and began to parley. The oldest woman said he could have the youngest sister if he would give back the clothes; but the young man declined. Then she said he could have both her sisters; but the young man said he wanted her herself. So at last the woman said, "Well, I am a poor woman, but if you will give back our clothes, you may have me."

The young man agreed, and turned his back while they dressed. Then they started together for their father's house; and on the way the women told him of how Thunder killed men, and what he had to do to escape. When they came to the house, Thunder told the young man to go into the house and get some food. He went in just like the other suitors; but there was a door on the other side of the room, and he ran quickly across, and got out before the bears could catch him. His wife was waiting for him, and together they went to her house and spent the night. Early in the morning he rose and went to Thunder's house, and Thunder said to him, "My house is too old. If you will make me a new one, you can have my daughter." The young man sat down and covered his head and thought hard. Pretty soon he uncovered his head, and there was a fine house all built. But Thunder refused to give him the girl. Then Thunder said to him, "My garden is in very bad condition; it is full of stones and weeds. If you will clear it out, you can have my daughter." So the young man sat down and covered his head and thought, and in a little while he uncovered, and there was the garden all cleared. Still Thunder refused to give him his daughter.

Every night the young man went to the woman's house and slept with her, and she told him all the ways in which her father killed men, but all the time she feared that her husband would get caught. At last she proposed that they should run away together to his home. So they took all their clothes and goods

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and filled several houses; but the young man turned them all into a small roll and put it in his blanket, and they started for home. Next day Thunder discovered that the young man had stolen his daughter, and started in pursuit; and they heard him coming a long way off and were frightened.

They came to a great lake, and turned themselves into ducks and swam across. And when Thunder came to the lake, he saw nothing but two ducks, and went back home, while the young man and his wife turned back to their proper shapes on the other, side and started on. Thunder came home and told his wife what had happened, and she laughed at him and told him that the ducks were the man and the woman. Then Thunder was angry, and started in pursuit again. Again the fugitives heard Thunder coming. The young man looked all about for a way of escape, and, seeing an owl, both he and the woman hid themselves under the owl's wing. When Thunder came up, he saw no traces of them. Then, seeing the owl, he caught it and felt it all over, and picked over all the feathers; but he forgot to look under the wing, and so failed to find them, and went back home, while the young man and his wife started on again.

Finally they came near home. When they were only a little way off, the woman said, "I will wait here while you go on and tell them we are coming." As soon as the young man had gone, the woman made four houses, and, pulling the roll from her blanket, she filled them all with clothes and goods. And one of the houses she made ready for the young man's mother. Not long after that, they heard Thunder hunting for them again; and when he came up, he was very angry, and wanted to kill all the people in the village. But his daughter made a great crack in the ground, and Thunder fell in up to his waist, and stuck fast. Then his daughter built a tent over his head, and used to feed him through a hole in the tent. There he staid for two years. But at last he grew tired, and told his daughter if she would let him out he would go home and not trouble them any more. So she freed him, and he went away; and after that the young man and his wife lived in peace.

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LXXXIII. CINDERELLA[294]

(Zuñi: Cushing, Zuni Folk Tales, p. 54[*])

Long, long ago, our ancients had neither sheep nor horses nor cattle; yet they had domestic animals of various kinds--amongst them Turkeys.

In Mátsaki, or the Salt City, there dwelt at this time many very wealthy families, who possessed large flocks of these birds, which it was their custom to have their slaves or the poor people of the town herd in the plains round about Thunder Mountain, below which their town stood, and on the mesas beyond.

Now, in Mátsaki at this time there stood, away out near the border of the town, a little tumbledown, single-room house, wherein there lived alone a very poor girl,--so poor that her clothes were patched and tattered and dirty, and her person, on account of long neglect and ill fare, shameful to look upon, though she herself was not ugly, but had a winning face and bright eyes; that is, if the face had been more oval and the eyes less oppressed with care. So poor was she that she herded Turkeys for a living; and little was given to her except the food she subsisted on from day to day, and perhaps now and then a piece of old, worn-out clothing.

Like the extremely poor everywhere and at all times, she was humble, and by her longing for kindness, which she never received, she was made kind even to the creatures that depended upon her, and lavished this kindness upon the Turkeys she drove to and from the plains every day. Thus, the Turkeys, appreciating this, were very obedient. They loved their mistress so much that at her call they would unhesitatingly come, or at her behest go whithersoever and whensoever she wished.

One day, this poor girl driving her Turkeys down into the plains, passed near Old Zuñi,--the Middle Ant Hill of the World, as our ancients have taught us to call our home,--and as she went along, she heard the herald-priest proclaiming from the house-top that the Dance of the Sacred Bird (which is a very blessed and welcome festival to our people, especially to the youths and maidens who are permitted to join in the dance) would take place in four days.

[*. Reprinted by special arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Sons, the publishers.]

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Now, this poor girt had never been permitted to join in or even to watch the great festivities of our people or the people in the neighboring towns, and naturally she longed very much to see this dance. But she put aside her longing, because she reflected: "It is impossible that I should watch, much less join in the Dance of the Sacred Bird, ugly and ill-clad as I am." And thus musing to herself, and talking to her Turkeys, as was her custom, she drove them on, and at night returned them to their cages round the edges and in the plazas of the town.

Every day after that, until the day named for the dance, this poor girl, as she drove her Turkeys out in the morning, saw the people busy in cleaning and preparing their garments, cooking delicacies, and otherwise making ready for the festival to which they had been duly invited by the other villagers, and heard them talking and laughing merrily at the prospect of the coming holiday. So, as she went about with her Turkeys through the day, she would talk to them, though she never dreamed that they understood a word of what she was saying.

It seems that they did understand even more than she said to them, for on the fourth day, after the people of Mátsaki had all departed toward Zuñi and the girl was wandering around the plains alone with her Turkeys, one of the big Gobblers strutted up to her, and making a fan of his tail, and skirts, as it were, of his wings, blushed with pride and puffed with importance, stretched out his neck and said: "Maiden mother, we know what your thoughts are, and truly we pity you, and wish that, like the other people of Mátsaki, you might enjoy this holiday in the town below. We have said to ourselves at night, after you have placed us safely and comfortably in our cages: 'Truly our maiden mother is as worthy to enjoy these things as any one in Mátsaki, or even Zuñi.' Now, listen well, for I speak the speech of all the elders of my people: If you will drive us in early this afternoon, when the dance is most gay and the people are most happy, we will help you to make yourself so handsome and so prettily dressed that never a man, woman, or child amongst all those who are assembled at the dance will know you; but rather, especially the young men, will wonder whence you came, and long to lay hold of your hand in the circle that forms round the altar to dance. Maiden mother, would you like to go to see this dance, and even to join in it, and be merry with the best of your people?"

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The poor girl was at first surprised. Then it seemed all so natural that the Turkeys should talk to her as she did to them, that she sat down on a little mound, and, leaning over, looked at them and said: "My beloved Turkeys, how glad I am that we may speak together! But why should you tell me of things that you full well know 1 so long to, but cannot by any possible means, do?"

"Trust in us," said the old Gobbler, "for I speak the speech of my people, and when we begin to call and call and gobble and gobble, and turn toward our home in Mátsaki, do you follow us, and we will show you what we can do for you. Only let me tell you one thing: No one knows how much happiness and good fortune may come to you if you but enjoy temperately the pleasures we enable you to participate in. But if, in the excess of your enjoyment, you should forget us, who are your friends, yet so much depend upon you, then we will think: 'Behold, this our maiden mother, though so humble and poor, deserves, forsooth, her hard life, because, were she more prosperous, she would be unto others as others now are unto her.'"

"Never fear, O my Turkeys,--cried the maiden,--only half trusting that they could do so much for her, yet longing to try,--"never fear. In everything you direct me to do I will be obedient as you always have been to me."

The sun had scarce begun to decline, when the Turkeys of their own accord turned homeward, and the maiden followed them, light of heart. They knew their places well, and immediately ran to them. When all had entered, even their barelegged children, the old Gobbler called to the maiden, saying: "Enter our house." She therefore went in. "Now, maiden, sit down," said he, "and give to me and my companions, one by one, your articles of clothing. We will see if we cannot renew them."

The maiden obediently drew off the ragged old mantle that covered her shoulders and cast it on the ground before the speaker. He seized it in his beak, and spread it out, and picked and picked at it; then he trod upon it, and lowering his wings, began to strut back and forth over it. Then taking it up in his beak, and continuing to strut, he puffed and puffed, and laid it down at the feet of the maiden, a beautiful white embroidered cotton mantle. Then another Gobbler came forth, and she gave him another article of dress, and then another and another,

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until each garment the maiden had worn was new and as beautiful as any possessed by her mistresses in Mátsaki.

Before the maiden donned all these garments, the Turkeys circled about her, singing and singing, and clucking and clucking, and brushing her with their wings, until her person was as clean and her skin as smooth and bright as that of the fairest maiden of the wealthiest home in Mátsaki. Her hair was soft and wavy, instead of being an ugly, sun-burnt shock; her cheeks were full and dimpled, and her eyes dancing with smiles,--for she now saw how true had been the words of the Turkeys.

Finally, one old Turkey came, forward and said: "Only the rich ornaments worn by those who have many possessions are lacking to thee, O maiden mother. Wait a moment. We have keen eyes, and have gathered many valuable things,--as such things, being small, though precious, are apt to be lost from time to time by men and maidens."

Spreading his wings, he trod round and round upon the ground, throwing his head back, and laying his wattled beard on his neck; and, presently beginning to cough, he produced in his beak a beautiful necklace; another Turkey brought forth earrings, and so on, until all the proper ornaments appeared, befitting a well-clad maiden of the olden days, and were laid at the feet of the poor Turkey girl.

With these beautiful things she decorated herself, and, thanking the Turkeys over and over, she started to go, and they called out: "O maiden mother, leave open the wicket, for who knows whether you will remember your Turkeys or not when your fortunes are changed, and if you will not grow ashamed that you have been the maiden mother of Turkeys? But we love you, and would bring you to good fortune. Therefore, remember our words of advice, and do not tarry too long."

"I will surely remember, O my Turkeys!" answered the maiden.

Hastily she sped away down the river path toward Zuñi. When she arrived there, she went in at the western side of the town and through one of the long covered ways that lead into the dance court. When she came just inside of the court, behold, every one began to look at her, and many murmurs ran through the crowd,--murmurs of astonishment at her beauty and the richness of her dress,--and the people were all asking one another, "Whence comes this beautiful maiden?"

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Not long did she stand there neglected. The chiefs of the dance, all gorgeous in their holiday attire, hastily came to her, and, with apologies for the incompleteness of their arrangements,--though these arrangements were as complete as they possibly could be,--invited her to join the youths and maidens dancing round the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza.

With a blush and a smile and a toss of her hair over her eyes, the maiden stepped into the circle, and the finest youths among the dancers vied with one another for her hand. Her heart became light and her feet merry, and the music sped her breath to rapid coming and going, and the warmth swept over her face, and she danced and danced until the sun sank low in the west.

But, alas! in the excess of her enjoyment, she thought not of her Turkeys, or, if she thought of them, she said to herself, "How is this, that I should go away from the most precious consideration to my flock of gobbling Turkeys? I will stay a while longer, and just before the sun sets I will run back to them, that these people may not see who I am, and that I may have the joy of hearing them talk day after day and wonder who the girl was who joined in their dance."

So the time sped on, and another dance was called, and another, and never a moment did the people let her rest; but they would have her in every dance as they moved around the musicians and the altar in the center of the plaza.

At last the sun set, and the dance was well-nigh over, when suddenly breaking away, the girl ran out, and, being swift of foot,--more so than most of the people of her village,--she sped up the river path before any one could follow the course she had taken.

Meantime, as it grew late, the Turkeys began to wonder and wonder that their maiden mother did not return to them. At last a gray old Gobbler mournfully exclaimed, "It is as we might have expected. She has forgotten us; therefore is she not worthy of better things than those she has been accustomed to. Let us go forth to the mountains and endure no more of this irksome captivity, inasmuch as we may no longer think our maiden mother as good and true as once we thought her."

So, calling and calling to one another in loud voices, they trooped out of their cage and ran up toward the Cañon of the Cottonwoods, and then round behind Thunder Mountain, through the Gateway of Zuñi, and so on up the valley.

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All breathless, the maiden arrived at the open wicket and looked in. Behold, not a Turkey was there! Trailing them, she ran and she ran up the valley to overtake them; but they were far ahead, and it was only after a long time that she came within the sound of their voices, and then, redoubling her speed, well-nigh overtook them, when she heard them singing this song:

K'yaanaa, to! to!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
    Ye ye!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
K'yaanaa, to! to!
    Yee huli huli!

Hon awen Tsita
Itiwanakwïn
    Otakyaan aaa kyaa;
Lesna Akyaaa
Shoya-k'oskwi
Teyäthltokwïn
    Hon aawani!

Ye yee huli huli,
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
    Huli huli![*]

Up the river, to! to!
Up the river, to! to!
    Sing ye ye!
Up the river, to! to!
Up the river, to! to!
    Sing ye huli huli!

Oh, our maiden mother
To the middle place
    To dance went away;
Therefore as she lingers,
To the Cañon Mesa
And the plains above it
    We all run away!

Sing ye ye huli huli,
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
    Huli huli!
Tot-tot, tot-tot, tot-tot,
    Huli huli!

[*. This, like all the folk-songs, is difficult of translation; and that which is given is only approximate. [Cushing's note.]]

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Hearing this, the maiden called to her Turkeys; called and called in vain. They only quickened their steps, spreading their wings to help them along, singing the song over and over until, indeed, they came to the base of the Cañon Mesa, at the borders of the Zuñi Mountains. Then singing once more their song in full chorus, they spread wide their wings, and thlakwa-a-a, thlakwa-a-a, they fluttered away over the plains above.

The poor Turkey girl threw her hands up and looked down at her dress. With dust and sweat, behold! it was changed to what it had been, and she was the same poor Turkey girl that she was before. Weary, grieving, and despairing, she returned to Mátsaki.

Thus it was in the days of the ancients. Therefore, where you see the rocks leading up to the top of Cañon Mesa, there are the tracks of turkeys and other figures to be seen. The latter are the song that the Turkeys sang, graven in the rocks; and all over the plains along the borders of Zuñi Mountains since that day turkeys have been more abundant than in any other place.

After all, the gods dispose of men according as men are fitted; and if the poor be poor in heart and spirit as well as in appearance, how will they be aught but poor to the end of their days?

Thus shortens my story.

LXXXIV. THE TRUE BRIDE[295]

(THOMPSON: Teit, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xxix, 301, No. 1)

There was a white man who had a wife and daughter. The wife died, and he married another woman, who also bore him a daughter. The step-mother was always angry with her stepdaughter, and accused her of being lazy. One day in the wintertime, when there was much snow on the ground, she told her to go and pick berries. The girl knew that no berries could be found at that season; but she was so hurt by the nagging of her step-mother, that she said she would go. She put some food in her basket and wandered off, saying to herself, "I will continue wandering around until I die."

After a time she saw the smoke of a lodge, which she approached and entered. Four young men lived there, who were

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her relatives, but she did not know it. They gave her food to eat, and asked her why she travelled in the snow. She answered that she had a bad step-mother, who always scolded her, and had sent her out to pick berries in the snow. They gave her a snow-shovel, or scraper of some kind, and told her to go up on the roof of the house and dig away the snow. When she had removed the snow from the roof of the house, she saw that it was covered with earth, in which grew many strawberries of large size. The men passed up her basket, and she soon filled it with the finest strawberries.

When she had come down and was about to leave, the men said, "What shall we do for our sister?" She answered, "If by any means you can help me, I shall be glad. I am very poor, and have only rags to wear." Now, the youngest brother told her to spit; and when she spat, the spittle became a nugget of gold. The next brother made shoes for her of very fine material, which fitted her perfectly, and would never wear out. The third brother made a dress for her in the same way. The eldest brother said, "I will make a robe for her which will always look well and new, and will never wear out." As the brothers in succession made their awards, each article in turn appeared on her person, while her old clothes disappeared. She returned home with the basketful of strawberries, and delivered them to her step-mother, who was much surprised. She noticed that the clothes of the girl were all changed and of very fine material, and that she had the power of spitting gold, which she would gather up and put in a sack. This made her angry.

She said to her own daughter, "You see what your elder sister has brought us. She managed to find some berries. Go and get some too." She told her secretly to follow the tracks of her sister. She would then be sure of reaching the same place, and learn how she had obtained the strawberries, the fine clothes, and the power of spitting gold. The girl took her basket and departed. When she arrived at the house of the four brothers, they gave her food to eat, and asked her why she was travelling at that time of year. She answered, "My mother ordered me to go and gather strawberries, although it is winter-time and no berries are to be found. However, my sister found some, and my mother said I could get some at the same place."

The men directed her as they had her sister; and after removing the snow from the roof, she found strawberries growing

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profusely underneath. When she had filled her basket and was about to return, the brothers said, "What shall we do for our sister?" The youngest man asked her to spit, but she felt insulted at the request. She was vain and haughty. She thought they were fooling her. They intended to help her, but became disgusted on account of her vanity, and decided to give her nothing good. At last she spat, and the spittle turned into a toe-nail and smelled like toe-nails. The other brothers refused to help her in any way. She returned with the strawberries, and gave them to her mother. The latter noticed that she had no new clothes, and felt disappointed. She asked her to spit, but instead of gold she spat a bad-smelling toe-nail. She told her not to spit again.

One day the chief's son was passing, and saw the elder girl busy washing clothes. He liked her looks and her dress. His father, whom he told of his admiration for the girl, encouraged him to visit her and make her acquaintance. He said, "You may change your mind when you see her again." The young man visited the girl and held some conversation with her, during which she coughed and spat on the ground several times. He returned and told his father that the girl he fancied could spit gold nuggets. His father would not believe it, and went to see for himself. During his conversation with her, she spat repeatedly, and picked up the gold nuggets and put them in a sack she carried. He asked her to spit again. He picked up the spittle and satisfied himself that it was really gold. Then he advised his son to marry her, saying, " She is a valuable woman, she is worth many."

Now, it was reported that the chief's son was to marry the girl who could spit gold. All the white people came to the great wedding. At the end of the wedding feast the bride spat out much gold, so the wedding guests carried away some to their homes. Thus the bride provided them all with presents, and became renowned, and well liked by all.

In due time She-who-spat-Gold became pregnant. When she was about to be delivered, her husband was called away to an important meeting in a distant place, from which he could not return for a month. The chieftainess asked her husband to request his mother to attend her when her time came, as she had no faith in her step-mother, who might use the opportunity to do her harm. Her husband, however, assuaged her misgivings,

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and insisted that her step-mother, who was an expert midwife, and her half-sister, should assist her.

When she was about to give birth, her step-mother made a hole in the floor, placed the young woman over it, and, when the child was born, she cut the navel-string and let the infant fall through the hole. Then she put a cat in its place; and when the mother sat up and asked for her child the step-mother put the cat in her arms. The woman said, "It is strange that I should give birth to a cat!" The step-mother said, "Odd people have odd children." The young woman reared the cat as if it were her own child.

Her husband was disappointed when he returned but said nothing. Again the woman became pregnant, and again her husband was called away about the time of her delivery. She was again attended by her step-mother, who dropped the child through a hole in the floor. This time she gave the woman a snake, telling her that she had given birth to it. She added, "How strange are the children to which you give birth!" On the return of the husband, the step-mother told him that he ought to kill his wife, because she was giving birth to cats and snakes. She told him that he ought to marry her own daughter, who was a good woman, and would give birth to proper children. The chief and all the people held a meeting, and decided that his wife should be killed. They bound her with iron, took her in a canoe to the middle of the lake, and cast her overboard.

Now, the four brothers knew what was happening, and were there under the water to intercept her, and prevent her from drowning. They untied her, and after telling her that her real children were alive, and that things would come well in the end, they transformed her into a goose, and she swam about on the lake. The chief's son did not like his new wife, because she was disgusting and smelled nasty.

Now, She-who-spat-Gold had a favorite dog called "Spióola," which she had not seen since the time of the birth of her first child. He lived or slept underneath the house; and when the step-mother dropped the baby through the hole, he had taken charge of it. He licked off the blood, got some white cloth to make a bed for it and to cover it. He had gone to town and got milk to feed it. Later he gathered other kinds of food and fed it, thus rearing the boy successfully. He had done the same

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with the younger boy. When the boys were large enough to run about, they came out of their house, and often played near the lake, watching the goose, which frequently approached them, crying. Spióola had to go on trips to gather food, and always warned them not to go too far away during his absence, or let any one see them.

One day, however, the old step-mother noticed them, and tried to capture them; but they disappeared in a small hole under the house, and blocked it with a stone from the inside. She made up her mind to poison them. She scattered some fine food, which the children ate and then died. When Spióola came home, he missed the boys. After a while he took their scent, found them, and carried their bodies into his house.

As he could not resuscitate them, he started off to the Sun to seek help. He ran continually day and night, for Sun lived a long way off. On the way he passed an old horse, who asked him where he was going. He answered, "To the Sun," but did not stop or look around. The horse shouted, "Ask the Sun why I am growing old!"

At another place he passed an apple-tree, which in like manner addressed him, and called on him to ask Sun what made it dry up and its wood turn dead.

Again he passed a spring of water, which also called on him to ask the Sun why it was drying up. After running many days and nights, he came to the edge of the earth. There he saw a stretch of water, and on the other side the house of the Sun. He jumped into the water and swam across. He was almost exhausted before he reached the opposite shore, and his body was reduced to almost nothing but bones, owing to his arduous journey.

When he arrived at the Sun's house, an old woman, the mother of the Sun, met him, and asked him why he had come there. She said, "No one comes to see us unless he is in great trouble and requires help and wisdom." Spióola told her that his two foster-children were dead, and he had come to ask help, so that they might be restored. He told her all that had happened. She fed him, and he immediately began to gain strength on the good food used by the Sun people.

The old woman advised him what to do. He must watch the Sun when he spat. He would spit twice,--the first time for the elder boy, and the second time for the younger one. Spióola

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must carefully gather up the spittle, and keep the one apart from the other. The questions he wished to ask in behalf of the people he had passed on the road, she would ask the Sun herself, and Spióola would hear the answers.

The Sun spoke of the dead children, and spat twice on the ground. Spióola gathered up the spittle carefully, and wrapped each separately in thin bark. Sun said the children would become quite well if treated within four days; but after that it would be too late, for their bodies would begin to decompose.

Now, the old woman asked Sun the questions. She said, "A horse wants to know why he is growing old." Sun answered, "Because he is lazy. He feeds too much in one place. He is too lazy to search for good nutritious grass, and he is too lazy to go to water regularly. He will stand for days in one place rather than go any distance to get water." She said, "The apple-tree wants to know why it is drying up." Sun answered, "Because it is too lazy, and because it has a nail in its trunk. If it removes the nail, and loosens the ground around its roots and spreads them out to gather moisture, and prunes off the dead and useless wood, then it will retain its youth; but it is too lazy to do this." She said, "The little spring wants to know why it is drying up." Sun answered, "Because it is too lazy. If it removes all the dead twigs and leaves which choke it up, if it makes a clean channel for itself to run in, and drains the neighboring moist places into itself, it will always run and be healthy."

Spióola was in despair when he learned that he had to be back in four days to save the lives of the two children. It had taken him more than double that time to reach the abode of the Sun. The old woman consoled him, and told him he could reach home in time by taking another route. She said, "You will start early to-morrow morning, and follow the Sun on his journey. You must travel as fast as you can. The way he takes is a very straight and short course, and you may reach home in one day."

Spióola started the following morning, and, following the Sun's tracks, he arrived at home about nightfall. As he passed the small spring, the apple-tree, and the old horse, he informed them without stopping what the Sun had said.

Now, Spióola rubbed the spittle on the mouths of the children, and at once they returned to life. It was the same as if their

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breath had come back. When they became alive, each boy showed a luminous spot on the forehead; on the forehead of one shone a sun, and on that of the other a bright moon. Both were beautiful to behold.

Spióola told their mother the Goose that he was now going on another journey to see the wise Bird, and she must warn her children of approaching danger. He told the boys, "When you hear the Goose on the lake calling loudly, you must go home at once and hide, for the people may see you and kill you again." Spióola ran with all swiftness to the house of the Bird who talked all languages, knew the future, and never told a lie. He dwelt on the top of a pinnacle of clear ice in a snowy region. Spióola rushed at the cliff, and just managed to climb to the top of the ice before his claws had worn off. He told the Bird what he had come for, and asked his help, for every one believed what he said. The Bird answered, "I know your need is great, and I pity you." Spióola put the Bird under his robe, and slid down the ice. He brought him to the children, and the Bird seemed to be very glad to see them.

The day after the Bird had arrived, the father of the boys heard talking underneath the house, and resolved to investigate its cause. Some of the voices were like those of children. He found the entrance to their abode, but was unable to throw down the stone which blocked it. Spióola removed the stone, and asked him to come in. He said, "The passage is too small. I cannot pass through." Spióola replied, "If you try, you will manage it." He squeezed through, and was surprised to find himself in a large room, well kept and clean, and full of many kinds of food. When he saw the Bird there, he knew something important was going to happen, for he never came excepting when required to settle a serious difficulty which the chief himself and people could not decide properly. When Spióola told all that had happened, the chief's son became exceedingly sorry that he had killed his first wife, and had believed her step-mother. He told his father what he had learned, and a meeting was called for a certain day to inquire into the truth of the matter. Meanwhile the chief gave orders that the toenail woman, or She-who-spits-Toe-Nails, should be kept a prisoner in her house with her mother. The doors and windows of the house were all battened and nailed up. Now, Spióola went to the lake, and called the Goose, whom he shook until

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her goose-skin fell off. She-who-spits-Gold was restored to her natural form. She and her sons, the wise Bird, and Spióola, all attended the meeting when the people were gathered. The Bird told the true story in all its details, and every one believed him. He praised Spióola for his courage in running to the house of the Sun for the breath of the children. The chief ordered the two women to be taken out and hanged publicly. This the people did. The chief's son took back his wife, and they lived thenceforth in a great house, which was richly ornamented with gold by his wife. He became chief after his father, and his son became chief after him.

LXXXV. THE MAGIC APPLES[296]

(PENOBSCOT: Speck, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xxviii, 56, No. 4)

There was a soldier in the army whose name was Jack. One day he deserted, ran down the road, and left his horse and uniform. The general sent a captain and a corporal after him to capture him; but when they overtook him, Jack said, "Sit down here, and we will talk it over." Then he asked them if they were satisfied with their job, getting only a shilling a week, and he coaxed them to start in the world with him to seek their fortunes.

At last they agreed, and all three started out on the road in search of adventure. Soon they struck into a big woods, and at night saw lights shining in the windows of a wonderful palace. When they entered, they found it completely furnished, but without occupants. A fine meal was spread on the table, and three beds were found made up. The only living things they saw were three cats. After eating and smoking, three beautiful maidens appeared and told the men that they would like them to stay and live with them. That night they all slept together; and the next morning found everything as before, but the beautiful women had turned back into cats. For three nights they staid in this way; and the last night the captain's girl told him that if he would live with her, she would make him a present of a tablecloth which would always supply itself with whatever food he wished. The corporal's girl told him the same, and offered a wallet which should always be full of gold. Jack's girl made him an offer of a cap which would transport him wherever he wished. The men accepted the offer and received

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their presents. The next day, when the women had turned back into cats, the three men proposed to travel around and see the world; so they all put their heads together, and Jack pulled the cap over them and wished them to be in London.

They found themselves in London at once. Soon Jack became infatuated with a beautiful woman whom he wished to marry. She kept refusing him, however, and putting him off till the next day. He offered her a wonderful present. Then he went to the captain and borrowed his tablecloth. He gave her that, but still she put him off. Then he borrowed the corporal's wallet and gave her that, yet she put him off. At last he begged her to give him a kiss. She laughed and agreed. Then he slipped the cap over their heads and wished to be in the wild woods of America. Immediately they found themselves in the heart of the wild woods, with not a soul near them for miles.

She cried very hard, but soon begged Jack to go to sleep, and smoothed his forehead for him. Then, when he fell asleep, she took his cap and wished herself back in London again.

When Jack woke up, he found himself alone in the wilderness, and he began wandering, and soon came to a great apple-tree with apples as big as pumpkins. He tasted one, and immediately a growing tree sprouted from his head, and he could not move. Near by, however, was another small apple-tree whose fruit he could just reach. He ate one of these small apples, and immediately the tree came off his head. So he gathered some of the big apples and the little ones, and wandered on.

Soon he came out upon a great headland overlooking the ocean, and there he saw a ship sailing by. He signalled to it, and at last the sailors came ashore to get him. He told them he was a great doctor who had been lost in the woods, and wanted to get back to the old country. Then they took him on board and started back to England. Halfway across the ocean the captain got terribly sick, and the sailors called upon Jack to try to help him. He went down and gave the captain a piece of one of the big apples to eat; and at once a growing tree sprang from his head, its branches reaching way up among the masts. When the sailors saw this, they were going to throw him overboard, but he told them to wait until he tried his other medicine. Then he gave the captain a piece of the small apple, and the tree came off his head. By this they knew Jack was a great doctor.

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When they landed in England, Jack saw his two friends, the captain and the corporal, sawing wood at an inn to earn their living. He went to a town and built a shop, where he put his great apples up for sale, and many people came to see the wonderful fruit. In the meantime Jack's lover had built a great palace with the money from her wallet; and she heard of the wonderful doctor and his apples; so she went to see them. When she saw Jack, she did not know him because his beard had grown, and thought the apples were very wonderful. She bought one at the price of fifty dollars. When she took it home, Jack left his shop, and waited to see what would happen. Soon the word went around that the wealthiest woman in the kingdom had a tree growing from her head, which none of the doctors could take off. So Jack sent word to the woman that he was a great doctor and would guarantee to cure her.

So she sent for him, and he came. First, he told her that she had some great mystery in her life, that she had wronged somebody. He told her that before he could cure her, she would have to confess to him. Then she admitted that she had wronged a man, and had taken his things and left him. Then he told her that she would have to give up these things before he could cure her. So she gave him a little key, and told him to go in the cellar to a certain brick, behind which he would find the tablecloth, the wallet, and the cap.

When he got these things, he left the palace, and soon she died for her wrongs. He went back to his friends who were sawing wood, and gave them their things. Now, they all started back to the palace where the three cats were. When they arrived, they found the palace all neglected, and the three cats looked very old. That night they turned back into three old women, who complained bitterly of being neglected.

After they had eaten, however, the old women resumed their youth and beauty, and that night the youngest told Jack how they were bewitched by a great bull who lived near by. She told him that if the bull could be killed and his heart cut out, the spell would be removed, but that others had tried in vain. So the next morning Jack went down to his enclosure of stone and looked over. He saw a monster bull coursing around the inside. In the middle of the yard was a well, and a big rock standing at one side. When the bull was at the far end of the yard, Jack jumped the wall and ran for the well, followed by

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the bull. He had no sooner jumped into the well than the bull smashed against the rock and fell over dead. Then Jack climbed out and cut out his heart, which he took back with him. That night the three girls ate a piece of the heart, and the spell was removed. After that they all lived together in the palace.

LXXXVI. MAKING THE PRINCESS LAUGH 297

(MICMAC: Rand, Legends of the Micmacs, p. 34, No. 6)

There was once a king who owned a large farm in the neighborhood of the town where he resided; the farm was cultivated by a man who paid rent for it to the king. This man had but one child, a son, who was considered only about half-witted; he was very stupid, and was continually doing silly things.

After a while his father died; but as he had left a large store of money, the rent was easily met for a year or two. Finally a pay-day approached when there was no cash. The mother consulted with her son as to what was to be done. "The king will call in a day or two for his money, and we have none for him. What can we do?" He replies, "I don't know." She concludes to select one of the finest cows, and send the boy off to market to sell it. He agrees to the proposal and starts with the cow to market.

As he drives his animal along, he passes a house standing near the road; there is a man on the steps who has come out to hail him. He inquires, "Where are you going with that cow?" "I am driving her to market," Jack answers. "Come in and rest yourself," says the man, pleasantly. Jack accepts the invitation, goes in, and sits down. "I want you to make me a present of that cow," says the man. "Can't do it," replies Jack; "but I will be glad to sell her to you, for we are in need of the money." The man replies that he will not buy the cow, but that he wants Jack to make him a present of her. This the boy refuses to do. The man asks if he will have something to eat. He answers in the affirmative, and on a tiny dish is set before him a very small piece of food. The boy looks at the food, and ventures to taste it. He finds it very palatable, and eats away, but does not diminish the amount. After a while the distension of his stomach indicates that he has eaten sufficiently; but his appetite is as keen as ever, and the morsel that lies on the tiny plate is not in the least diminished.[210] He endeavors to stop eating,

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but finds that he cannot do so. He has to keep on eating, whether he will or not. So he calls out to the man, "Take away your food." The man coolly answers, "Give me your cow, and I will." The boy answers indignantly, "I'll do no such thing; take your dish away." "Then eat on," quietly answers the man; and eat on he does, until he begins to think that his whole abdominal region will burst if he continues much longer. He gives over the contest, cries for quarter, and yields up the cow. In return he receives the little dish with the food undiminished in quantity or quality, remaining in it. He then returns home with the magical food in his pocket.

Arriving at his home, he is questioned as to the success of his mission. He relates his adventures and says, "I have been robbed of the cow." His mother calls him a thousand fools, upbraids him outrageously, and seizes the fire-shovel in order to knock him down. He dodges her, however, and taking a particle of the magical food on the tip of his finger, adroitly touches her mouth with it as he jumps by her. She stops instantly, charmed with the exquisite taste, and inquires, "What is this that tastes so delicious?" Thereupon he hands the dish over to her; and she falls to eating greedily, while he quietly looks on. But soon sensations and difficulties similar to those which he had himself experienced lead her to call out to him to remove the plate. "Will you beat me then?" he coolly asks. "I will," exclaims the mother, now more than ever enraged, finding herself thus caught in a trap. "Then you may eat away," says the boy. The indignant old lady eats on, until she can really stand the strain no longer, when she yields, and promises to lay aside the "rod of correction"; then he releases her by removing the tiny platter and its contents.

The next morning the old lady sends Jack off to market with another cow. Passing the same house, he is again accosted by the man, who is waiting on the door-step to meet him; in the same manner as on the former occasion, the man makes the modest request that Jack will give him the cow. Jack, however, has learned some wisdom by his late adventure, and has no idea of repeating the experiment. "Be off with you, you evil spirit," he exclaims. "You robbed me yesterday; you're not going to do it again today"; and he hurries on. The man takes off his belt, and throws it down in the middle of the road. Instantly the belt leaps up around both Jack and his cow, binds

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the animal's legs fast to her body, and lashes the boy to her side. There they lie, unable to stir. "Untie me!" shouts the struggling boy. "Give me your cow and I will," the man answers. "I won't do it," says Jack. "Then lie there!" is the answer. But the belt, like a huge boa-constrictor, begins to contract, and to press upon Jack and his cow, so that they can scarcely draw their breath. At length the poor fellow gives up the cow, is unfastened, receives the magic belt in return, and goes home. He informs his mother that the same man has again robbed him. The old woman is now more angry than ever. She calls him hard names, threatens to beat and even to kill him, and searches for a suitable weapon; then Jack unclasps his belt, casts it upon the floor, and instantly the poor woman is bound hand and foot, and calls lustily to be released. Jack looks on and says, "Will you beat me, then?" "Yes, I will," she screams; "untie me, you dog!" Jack pulls the magic cord a little tighter round her, and the violence of her wrath abates; she begins to gasp, and promises if he will let her go she will not beat him. Thereupon he unties her, and she keeps her word.

The difficulty still remains; the rent is not yet paid, and the mother determines to make one more attempt to sell a cow. Away goes the boy again towards the town, driving the third animal, when the same man again encounters him with the same proposal. "Give me your cow." "Give you my cow, indeed!" exclaims the boy in wrath. "I'll give a stone and hurl it at your head." He is about to suit the action to the word, when the man pulls out a tiny flute and begins to play on it. Jack's muscles instantly contract in different directions; the stone drops from his hand, and, literally charmed with the music, he begins to dance. The cow joins in the jig; and both dance away with all their might, unable to stop. "Hold! hold!" he exclaims at length; "stop your music! Let me get my breath!" "Give me your cow, and I will," answers the man. "I won't do it," Jack replies. "Then dance away!" is the answer; and the poor fellow dances until he is ready to drop from very weariness. He then yields, gives up the cow, receives the magic flute, and returns to his mother to report his ill success for the third time. This time the old woman's rage knows no bounds. She will kill him outright. But while she is in the act of springing upon him with some deadly weapon,

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he commences operations on his magical flute. The old lady is enchanted with the music, drops her weapon, and begins to dance, but retains her wrath, and long persists in her determination to deal summary vengeance upon the boy. Again and again she orders him to cease playing; but in answer to his interrogatory, "Will you beat me then?" she answers, "Indeed I will." Soon she becomes so weary that she can scarcely keep on her feet, but sways to and fro, almost sinking. Finally she falls and strikes her head with great force. She yields, and promises to let him alone, and he withdraws the enchantment of his music.

There was another effect produced by the magic flute when the man who met Jack commenced playing; no sooner had the boy and cow begun to dance, than they were joined by a great swarm of hornets. These hornets hovered over them, and danced in concert in the air; they followed the flute; whenever it played they came, but they were invisible to all eyes accept those of the musician, and his commands and wishes they implicitly obeyed.

The difficulty of paying the rent remains. The mother is still in trouble about it; but the boy quiets her fears, and undertakes to manage the affair. " To-day," she says, "the king will be here. What can we do?" He says to her, "I'll pay him; give yourself no uneasiness." He then takes a lot of earthen dishes and smashes them up fine, packs the pieces into a bag, and fills it so full that he can scarcely tie it up, then seals the strings with gum.

Presently a carriage containing the king himself and two servants drives up to the door. They have come to collect the rent. They enter the house, and the terrified old woman runs and hides. The boy, however, meets them at the door, and politely conducts them to a seat. They sit down and wait, and he immediately fetches them what seems to be a well-filled money-bag, and sets it down on the table, making it rattle and chink like a bag of money, as he sets it down.

He then produces his little magic platter and food, and gravely informs the king that his father, before he died, had given him instructions to set that before his Majesty as a portion of exquisitely delicious food. The king takes the bait and falls into the trap; he first tastes a morsel, then falls to eating, and the two servants join him. Meanwhile the boy seems to be

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very busy getting ready to count out the cash, bustling round, going into another room where he remains a good while, then coming out and lifting up the bag, and, as if having forgotten something, going back into some other apartment of the house.

Meanwhile the king and his servants become gorged with the food; but they can neither refrain from eating, nor push away from the enchanted platter. They call to the boy to come and remove his dish; but he is altogether too busy to hear or to notice them. Meanwhile their troubles increase. Their stomachs become distended beyond endurance, and they are glad to purchase a respite by giving up rent, house, stock, farm, and all. On these conditions the dish and food are removed, and the king and his retinue return to the palace, leaving the good people in quiet possession of everything.

After they have retired, the old woman, who has been watching the manúuvres from her hiding-place, comes out, and this time praises her boy for his adroitness. He makes over all the property to her, and starts off to seek his fortune and a wife, taking with him the enchanted dish, belt, and flute.

So he travels on, and finally arrives at a town where a king resides who has one beautiful daughter. She has many suitors, for the king has promised her hand to the first one who will make her laugh three times in succession. Now, it happens that our hero is very ill-shaped, ugly-looking, and awkward, and can' by a little affectation, make himself appear much more so than he really is. He strolls about the city, hears the current gossip, and learns about the domestic arrangements of the palace. So one day he strolls into the king's palace among the other suitors and visitors, and looks round at everything, and soon attracts the attention of the servants, who inquire what his business is there. At first he makes no reply. But he knows that, according to rule, unless he answers the third challenge, he will be summarily ejected. So he answers the second time. "Is it true, as I have heard, that the princess will marry the first man who can make her laugh three times in succession?" He is told that it is true, and he says he wishes to make the trial. So he is allowed to remain in the palace.

Being admitted into the apartment where the young lady is in waiting, surrounded by her suitors, who are to be umpires in the trial, he first brings out his magical dish with the enchanted food, and requests her to examine and taste it. She

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does this cautiously, following the bent of curiosity, and finds the taste so agreeable that she continues to eat, and offers it to the others, who also eat. To their astonishment the quantity of food does not diminish in the platter, nor does the taste become any less exquisite, although their distended stomachs protest against any further infliction. Finally the protestations of the gastric region overcome the clamors of the palate, and they attempt to stop eating and to push away the plate. But they can do neither the one nor the other, and so call upon the youth to take away his food. He will do so, but upon one condition: the princess must laugh. She hesitates; she had thought of laughing only from pleasure, not from pain. She refuses to comply, but he is inexorable; she may do what she pleases,--laugh, or continue to eat. Finally she can hold out no longer, and she laughs, saying to herself, "He'll not make me laugh a second time." As soon as he releases them from the enchantment of the food, they fly furiously at him to expel him from the palace. But they "reckon without their host." Quick as lightning he unclasps the magic belt, tosses it on the floor, and instantly they are all bound together in a bundle wound round from head to foot, and lie in a helpless heap before him. "Untie us," shouts the tortured and terrified princess. "Laugh, then," he coolly answer But no, she will not laugh. But he knows how to bring her to terms. He has but to will it, and the obedient belt will tighten its embrace. When she and her guardians can endure the pressure no longer, she gives forth a forced and feeble laugh. Then they are all released. No sooner done, than the men draw their weapons and rush furiously at him. Before they reach the spot where he stands, however, he has the magic flute to his lips; their steps are arrested, and princess, suitors, umpires, guards, and all are wheeling in the mazy dance. They are charmed, not figuratively but literally, with the music of the tiny magic flute.

At length they grow tired of the exercise, and vainly endeavor to stop; but they cannot do it. "Stop your playing!" they shout. "I will," he answers, "when the princess laughs." But she determines that she will not laugh this time, come what may. But the stakes are for a princess and a kingdom, and he will not yield. She dances till she can no longer stand. She falls upon the floor, striking it heavily with her head. She then yields to her fate, performs her part nobly, and gives forth a

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hearty laugh. The music then ceases, the umpires are left to decide the case, and the young man walks away and leaves them.

The news of the affair reaches the ears of the king, and he commands that the young man shall be introduced into his presence. This is done; and the king is disgusted with the looks and manners of the young man, and declares the contract null and void. But the matter must be hushed up, and not allowed to get abroad. The "victor" is to be privately despatched, and another more suitable match substituted in his place. By the king's direction the stranger is seized, conveyed to the menagerie, and thrown in with the beasts. This is a large apartment surrounded by high walls. The ferocious animals rush upon him; but the magic belt is tossed down, and they are all tied up in a heap, their legs being bound fast to their bodies, while he sits quietly down awaiting the issue of events in one corner of the yard.

Meanwhile word is circulated that one of the suitors at the royal palace has won the princess's hand, and the wedding is to be celebrated that very evening. "All goes merrily as a marriage-bell," until the hour arrives for the bridegroom to be introduced into the bridal chamber. There the whole affair is quashed. Hosts of invisible foes are there who have entered at the key-hole, and are waiting to vindicate the innocent, defend his rights, and punish the intruder. The victorious Jack has taken his flute and called the troops of hornets to his aid; he bids them enter the key-hole and wait until his rival has unrobed, and then ply him with their tiny weapons about his lower extremities. This they do; and the poor fellow, unable to see the hornets, but fully able to feel their stinging, begins to jump and scream like a madman. The terrified princess rushes out of the room, and screams for help. The domestics run to her assistance, and she declares that the bridegroom is a maniac. They, hearing his screams and witnessing his contortions of countenance, and unable to learn the cause, come to the same conclusion, and hurry away from the palace. Another bridegroom is substituted, who shares the same fate. The king at length concludes that he is outgeneralled; that the young man who has won the hand of his daughter still lives; that he must be a remarkable personage, possessed of miraculous powers. He sends to the menagerie for him. The animals are all tied up; but a thick mist fills the place, and they cannot see

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the young man. They attempt to release the beasts, but find this impossible. They bring the report to the king. "Ay," said he, "it is just as I said; he is a necromancer, a remarkable man. Go again, seek him carefully, and if you can find him bring him in." This time they find him. They recognize him; but he is now transformed into a most lovely person. All admire his portly bearing and his polished manners. The wedding is consummated with great pomp. He builds a splendid palace, and, when the old king dies, is crowned in his place.

LXXXVII. THE CLEVER NUMSKULL[298]

(MICMAC: Rand, Legends of the Micmacs, p. 326, No. 57)

Three brothers lived together. They had no sisters, and their mother was sick. The youngest was supposed to be a silly fellow, and was always doing outrageous things. One day they killed a pig. The two older brothers went to fetch salt, and told the youngest one to remain and watch the house, and take care of their mother and the pig. They said they were going to salt down the pork, and keep it for the long days. After they were gone, he went out and found some men at work, and told them that if there was a man there named Longdays, he had a pig for him. One of them declared that that was his name; forthwith the pig was delivered to him, and he carried it off. By and by the other brothers arrived, and wondered what had become of the pig. "Why, Longdays has been here and taken it away! Did not you say it was to be kept for Mr. Longdays?" "Oh, you blockhead! we told you it was to be kept for ourselves when the days become long next summer."

Some time after this, Coolnajoo was sent to buy a horse. He made the purchase, and brought the horse home. But there was a long avenue, lined by trees and bushes, extending from the highway down to the house; and when he came to the head of this lane, he gravely told the horse that this was the road, and bade him go on directly to the house. Saying this, he removed the halter; and the horse kicked up his heels and made for home. The boy arrived home, wondering at the stupidity of the horse; and on relating the case to his brothers, they wondered at his stupidity. "You numskull!" they exclaimed, "you can never do anything right. Why did you not ride him down the lane?" "Oh, I will do better next time," he promised.

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So, as the old mother got no better, they sent him to find and bring home a woman to assist in nursing her and in taking care of the house. He took his bridle and started. He succeeded in his expedition, and the woman came with him all quiet and kindly till they reached the head of the lane; but there and then he made an attempt to put the bridle on her head, and assured her that she had to carry him on her back, and walk on all fours down to the house. Persisting in his determination, the terrified woman screamed, broke from her persecutor, and ran.

Chopfallen and sad, he went into the house. What was his trouble? they asked him. "Why! I attempted to bring her home in the way you directed; but she screamed and tore away from me, and crying went back, as hard as she could go.--"Oh, you abominable fool!" they exclaimed; "was that the way to treat a woman? You should have taken her by the arm, and occasionally given her a kiss." "Ah, well!" he cried, "I shall know better next time."

The next time he was sent for a pig. He led the pig all right until he came to the lane. He then tried to make the pig walk on his hind legs; and when the terrified animal squealed and kicked, he attempted to conciliate it by kissing it; but he received such a return from the tusks of his captive as made the blood flow, and caused him to let go his grip,--and poor piggy went off home at the top of his speed.

Poor Coolnajoo returned crestfallen to his home, to relate his adventures, and to be blamed and lectured for the hundredth time for his outrageous stupidity.

His next expedition was for a tub of hog's-lard. This he purchased; but on his way home he passed over a portion of road that was dried and cracked by the sun. "Oh, my old grandfather!" he exclaimed, "what a terribly sore back you have got,--so naked and dry! You shall have my lard for salve, and 1 will rub it on." So saying, he began spreading the lard over the dry road; and when it was all gone, he went home. "Why have you not brought the lard?" "Oh, dear me! I came across a poor old man lying in the road with his back all sore and cracked; and I pitied him, and spread the lard over him." To this the brothers made no objection until they ascertained the truth of the case; when another attempt was made to teach him a lesson, and with the usual success.

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His sixth expedition was in quest of a quantity of needles. These were purchased, but on his way home he passed a newly reaped field of grain. He looked at the stubble, and perceived the holes in the top; he was sure that when the rain should fall, the water would fill all those holes, and concluded that it would be a very benevolent act to stop them up. This would be a capital end to which to apply his needles. So he opened the packages, and carefully placed one in every straw; and when the supply was exhausted, many remained undoctored. "Alas, poor things!" he cried, "I cannot help you any more, as my stock is out." So he went home without his needles.

Afterward he was sent for some red flannel. Passing a graveyard on his way home, he looked at the crosses, and took them for poor old penitents kneeling in the cold with outstretched arms, and carefully tore up his roll of red flannel and covered their poor shivering shoulders.

After this the two other brothers went together to town to make some purchases, and left him to take care of the sick mother. They charged him to give her drink, and especially to wash her face. He obeyed the directions, but supposed he must wash her face as he had seen her wash clothes,--by thrusting them into boiling water. So he set on the great pot; and when the water was boiling, he took up the old woman and thrust her head into it, and held her there. When he took her out, she was dead, and her lips were contracted to a grin, which he affected to mistake for laughter'. and placed her back in the bed, and leaped and laughed at her quiet and pleasant countenance. He ran to meet his brothers, and told them that their mother had not been so quiet nor looked so well this long time. She had not stirred nor spoken, and she was laughing all the time. They went in, and were horror-stricken. "Oh, you outrageous simpleton! what have you done? You have killed your mother. We shall all be executed for murder."

But now Coolnajoo began to exhibit his shrewdness, and soon became as clever as he had hitherto been simple. "Never you fear," said he; "we will turn the incident to good account, we will make some money out of it. Wait you here; I will run for the priest." So off he ran posthaste, and informed the priest that his mother was dying, and requested him to come with all haste, to perform over her the indispensable rite of extreme unction. The priest started immediately; but Coolnajoo outran

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him, and took his dead mother and placed her against the door, inside. The priest reached the house, burst the door open, and tumbled the old woman over. Coolnajoo sprang to raise her. Alas! she was dead. "Oh!" he exclaimed, wringing his hands and weeping, "you have killed our mother!" All three gathered round, and the horrified priest did not know what to do. They threatened to accuse him of the murder. He finally succeeded in pacifying them, and gave them a whole handful of money to hush up the matter and say nothing about it.

The development of his shrewdness proceeded. The two other brothers went away one day, and left the place in his charge. Among other occupations he had to tend the pigs. These he sold; but in order to cheat his brothers, he cut off their tails and took them down to a quagmire near the shore, and stuck them all up in the sand. When they came back and inquired for the pigs, he told them they had broken out of the pen and rushed down toward the shore, and had sunk in the quagmire. They went down to see; and sure enough, there they all were, just the tips of their tails sticking above the ground. They seized hold of the tails, and tried to draw up the porkers; but the tails broke, and down into the mire sank the bodies, as they believed, and could not be found.

Soon his pranks became unbearable, and the brothers resolved to make away with him. They concluded to drown him. So they tied him up in a bag, and took him down below high water mark and buried him,--not deep, however,--and left him to be drowned when the tide came in. They returned; and he soon heard the "Uh! uh! uh!" of a drove of hogs, and called lustily for them to come to his aid. If they would uncover and untie him, he would lead them to a place where they could feast on chickweed to their hearts' content. The hogs, attracted by the noise, approached the spot. Their noses were soon thrust deep into the soft earth. The bag was soon reached, and instinct alone was sufficient to pull it out; and they soon removed the string,--when up jumped Coolnajoo, who seized one of his deliverers, transferred him to the bag, and the bag to the hole, drove the others away to the field of chickweed, where they were kept busy till the tide returned and covered the spot where he was supposed to lie.

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In due time the tide receded, and compunction returned to the brothers' hearts; they repaired to the spot and dug up the bag, mournfully chanting, "Our poor brother is dead." Astonishment seized them when, on opening the bag, there, instead of the brother's corpse, was a dead pig. Meanwhile Coolnajoo had waited at a distance from the spot until his brothers went down to the shore to look for him. When they returned, he was astride the ridge-pole, laughing at them.

They made another attempt to kill him. This time they planned better; they would take him to a waterfall and toss him in above, and let him be dashed to pieces in going over the rapids. So they tied him up in a bag again, placed it across a pole, and started for the waterfall. They became hungry on the way, and placed him by the side of the road, and went to get some dinner. While they were gone, a drover came by; and seeing the bag, he went up and gave it a kick. "Halloa!" he exclaimed, "what is all this?" Coolnajoo replied, and informed the drover that he and his brothers were on a money-hunting expedition; concealed in this bag, so as not to excite suspicion, he was to be taken to a certain place where they would all make their fortunes. He gave such a glowing account of the matter, and with such apparent truthfulness and sincerity, that the drover was deceived, and offered him a whole drove of cattle and sheep for his chance in the money-hunting speculation. The bargain was struck, and the parties exchanged places. But Coolnajoo gave his substitute some cautions: "You must be cautious not to speak, or the cheat will be discovered; my brothers must not mistrust that it is not I. By and by you will hear the roar of a waterfall; do not be frightened. Before lowering you to the place where you are to find the money, they may give you two or three swings. You must keep still, and not speak; and after that you can have it all your own way." So saying, he went on to the market with the drove. The brothers came back to the bag. "Are you there?" they asked. No answer. But they saw that all was right, placed the bag on the pole, the pole on their shoulders, and moved on.

When they came to the waterfall, they approached as near as they could, and then gave him three swings in order to send him as far out as possible; and just as they let go, the terrified man sang out. They were startled at the voice; it sounded like a stranger's voice. They returned home, and shortly after

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their brother arrived with his pockets full of money,--the proceeds of his drove of cattle and sheep.

So they concluded to share the spoil and remain together. But one night a band of robbers was seen advancing upon them, and they ran for their lives. Coolnajoo was the last to leave the house and the others told him to "bring the door to after him,"--meaning, of course, that he shall shut the door. He obeyed to the letter,--took the door off the hinges, and carefully brought it after him. They made for the woods, and took shelter in a tree,--Coolnajoo dragging the door up after him, and holding it carefully all the while. The robbers came up to the same tree, kindled a fire under it, cooked and ate their dinner, and then began counting and dividing their gold. While this process was going on, Coolnajoo got tired of holding the door, and dropped it down among them. It fell with a noise that terrified the robbers, who supposed that it had fallen from the sky; so they ran off as fast as their legs could carry them, and left everything behind,--gold, food, and dishes. Down scrambled our heroes, and gathered all up and ran; finally they came to a house, where they remained all night. They divided the money; but Coolnajoo claimed the largest share, as he declared that it was through his efforts that it had been obtained. The next night they called and stayed all night at another strange house. Coolnajoo became thirsty, and hunted around for a drink. Feeling carelessly about, he thrust his two hands into a pitcher, and could not withdraw them. He went out-of-doors, and looked around for something to strike the pitcher against, in order to break it. At length he saw what seemed in the darkness to be a white rock. He gave the pitcher a smart blow in order to free his hands; when, alas! he had struck a young woman in the head, and killed her with the blow. At the sight of what he had done, he was terribly frightened, and called up his brothers. He told them what had happened, and proposed immediate flight. They all departed; and his brothers, fearing that Coolnajoo would ultimately get them into difficulties from which they would be unable to extricate themselves, separated from him. By mutual consent the partnership was dissolved. They went each his own way.

Coolnajoo was bent on making money, and an opportunity occurred soon. He kept his eye on the robbers, and saw them

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going out to bury a dead child; he watched to see where they deposited the body, and also followed them unseen to their retreat. When night came, he took up the corpse they had buried, and went up to their house. The window was open, and he looked in; they were busy counting and dividing their ill-gotten booty. Piles of money covered the table, and he heard all the accounts of their expeditions. All at once he sent the dead baby flying in among them,--which so frightened them that they took to their heels and left all behind. He leaped in, gathered all the money, and left for home.

He now determined to settle, and to this end built a small house. One day a heavy rain-storm came on; and just at nightfall two weary priests, wet to the skin, called and requested a night's lodging. This he refused, as he had no accommodations for strangers. They pleaded hard, and offered him a large reward; this he accepted, and kept them until morning, but managed to exact a still further contribution from them before their departure.

LXXXVIII. THE FOX AND THE WOLF[299]

(MENOMINI: Skinner, Journal of American Folk-Lore, xxvi, 72, No. 2)

Very long ago there were two men living together, and making maple-sugar. They made one mokok ("bark box") of sugar, and then they cached it away, burying it, and said to each other, "We will let it remain here until we are very hungry."

The younger man was a Fox, and he was a good hunter. Every time he went out, he brought home chickens or small wild game. The other man was a greedy Wolf, and he never killed anything, or brought anything home: so Fox thought he would play a trick on his chum for being lazy.

"You ought to go over to that house," said Fox to Wolf. "Maybe they will give you something to eat. When I went over there, they gave me a chicken."

So Wolf went over as he was told. When he got to the house, he did not hide himself, but went in open sight. The owner of the house saw the Wolf coming up; so he set his dogs on him to drive him away; and Wolf escaped only by running into the river.

"So it is this one that takes off our chickens!" said the man.

When Wolf arrived at his home, he told his younger brother, Fox, "Why, I hardly escaped from that man!"

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"Why!" said Fox to him. "They did not recognize you; that's why." But Wolf made no answer.

While they were in the house together, Fox went outside, and cried, "He!" to deceive Wolf.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Wolf.

"Oh! they have come after me to give a name to a child."

"Then you'd better go over. Maybe they will give you something to eat."

Instead of going, however, Fox went to their cache of maple-sugar, and ate some of it. When he returned, Wolf asked him, "What did you name the baby?"

"Mokimon," replied Fox; and this word means to "reveal" or "dig out" something you have hidden.

At another time, while they were sitting together, Fox said, "He!" and "Oh, yes!"

"What's that?" inquired Wolf.

"Oh, I am called to give a name to a newborn baby."

"Well, then, go. Maybe they will give you something to eat." So Fox went and returned.

"What's the name of the child?" asked Wolf.

This time, Fox answered, "Wapiton," and this word means "to commence to eat."

At another time, time, Fox cried out, "He!" and "All right!" as though some one had called to him, "I'll come."

"What's that?" asked Wolf.

"They want me to go over and name their child."

"Well, then, go," says Wolf. "You always get something to eat every time they want you."

So Fox went, and soon returned.. Wolf asked him again, "What name did you give it?"

"Hapata kiton," answered Fox; that is to say, "half eaten."

Then another time Fox cried "He!" as if in answer to some one speaking to him, and then, as though some one called from the distance, "Hau!"

Wolf, as he did not quite hear, asked Fox what the matter was.

"Oh, nothing!" replied Fox, "only they want me to come over and name their child."

"Well, then, you'd better go. Maybe you'll get a chance to eat; maybe you'll fetch me something too."

So Fox started out, and soon returned home.

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"Well, what name did you give this time?" asked Wolf.

"Noskwaton," said Fox; and this means "all licked up."

Then Wolf caught on. "Maybe you are eating our stored maple-sugar!" he cried. But Fox sat still and laughed at him.

Then Wolf went over and looked at their cache. Sure enough, he found the empty box with its contents all gone, and pretty well licked up. Meantime Fox skipped out, and soon found a large tree by the river, leaning out over the water. He climbed into its branches and hid there. Presently the angry Wolf returned home, and, not finding Fox, tracked him to the tree. Wolf climbed part way to Fox without seeing him, as he was on the branches. Then Wolf was afraid, and while he was hesitating, he happened to look at the water, and there he saw the reflection of Fox laughing at him on the surface.[270] The Wolf, in a fury, plunged into the bottom of the stream, but of course failed to catch Fox. He tried four times, and after the fourth attempt he was tired, and quit jumping in for a while. While he was resting, he looked up and saw Fox laughing at him. Then Wolf said to Fox, "Let's go home and make up"; for he thought in his heart that anyway Fox was feeding him all the time.

By and by it became winter. Fox frequently went out, and returned with abundance of fish.

"How do you manage to get so many?" asked Wolf.

"You'd better go out and try for yourself," said Fox. "The way I do, when I am fishing, is to cut a hole in the ice. I put my tail in, instead of a line, and I remain there until I feel bites. I move ahead a little to let the fish string on my tail; but I stay a long time, until I get a great many fish on my tail. When it feels pretty heavy, I jerk it out, and catch all I want."

Fox was in hopes that he could get Wolf frozen to death in the ice, and so avoid the necessity of feeding him any longer. So he took Wolf out, and cut five holes in the ice,--one for his tail, and one for each paw,--telling him he could catch more fish that way. Wolf staid there to fish all night. Every once in a while he would move his feet or tail a little, and they felt so heavy, he was sure he was getting a tremendous load; and he staid a little longer. In the mean time he was freezing fast in the ice. When he found out the predicament he was in, he jerked backwards and forwards again and again, until all the hair wore off his tail, and there he was. He thought he had let too many fish on his tail and feet to haul them out, and he

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worked hard to free himself. At last he wore his tail out at the surface of the ice, and pulled off his claws and the bottoms of his feet. Fox told him he had caught too many fish, and that they had bitten his tail and feet; and Wolf believed it.

Another time, Fox found a wasp's nest in a tree: so he went home and told Wolf that there was honey in it, and persuaded him to try and jump up and get it, on the plea that Wolf could jump higher than he could. As soon as Wolf set out to try, Fox ran away, and Wolf was nearly stung to death. Fox fled over a wagon-road to conceal his tracks, and as he travelled, he met a negro with a team, hauling a load of bread. Fox, cunning as he was, lay down on the side of the road and pretended that he was dead. The negro saw him lying there, and picked him up and put him in his wagon behind his load. Fox very presently came to, and, waiting for his chance, he would throw off a loaf of bread every now and then, till he had gotten rid of a good many, Then he jumped off, and carried the loaves to a secret place, where he built him a shelter, and prepared to live for a time.

In the mean time, Wolf came along, half starved, and crippled from his meddling with a live wasp's nest and from his fishing experience.

Fox fed him on his arrival, and said, "You ought to do the way I did. It's easy to get bread. I got mine by playing dead on the road. To-morrow the negro will pass by with another load; and you can watch for him and do as I did, and steal his bread."

Next morning, Wolf started out to watch the road and pretty soon he saw the negro coming with a big load of bread: so he lay down beside the road, where the {negro} could see him, and played dead. The {negro} did see him, sure enough; and he stopped his team, and got off and got a big stick, and knocked Wolf over the head, and killed him dead for sure.

"I will not get fooled this time!" he said, "for yesterday I lost too many loaves of bread for putting a dead Fox in my wagon without examining him!"

So he did take the Wolf home dead. That ended him, and since then Fox has eaten alone.

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LXXXIX. THE TAR-BABY[300]

(CHEROKEE: Mooney, Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, xix, 272)

Once upon a time there was such a severe drought that all streams; of water and all lakes were dried up. In this emergency the beasts assembled together to devise means to procure water. It was proposed by one to dig a well. All agreed to do so except the hare. She refused because it would soil her tiny paws. The rest, however, dug their well and were fortunate enough to find water. The hare, beginning to suffer and thirst and having no right to the well, was thrown upon her wits to procure water. She determined, as the easiest way, to steal from the public well. The rest of the animals, surprised to find that the hare was so well supplied with water, asked her where she got it. She replied that she arose betimes in the morning and gathered the dewdrops. However the wolf and the fox suspected her of theft and hit on the following plan to detect her:

They made a wolf of tar and placed it near the well. On the following night the hare came as usual after her supply of water. On seeing the tar wolf she demanded who was there. Receiving no answer she repeated the demand, threatening to kick the wolf if he did not reply. She receiving no reply kicked the wolf, and by this means adhered to the tar and was caught. When the fox and wolf got hold of her they consulted what it was best to do with her. One proposed cutting her head off. This the hare protested would be useless, as it had often been tried without hurting her. Other methods were proposed for dispatching her, all of which she said would be useless. At last it was proposed to let her loose to perish in a thicket. Upon this the hare affected great uneasiness and pleaded hard for life. Her enemies, however, refused to listen and she was accordingly let loose. As soon, however, as she was out of reach of her enemies she gave a whoop, and bounding away she exclaimed.: "This is where I live."[108]

XC. THE TURTLE'S RELAY RACE[301]

(ARIKARA: Dorsey, Publications of the Carnegie Institution, xvii, 143, No. 56)

One time a Coyote met a Turtle. The Coyote began to boast of his swiftness, and the Turtle said, "Why, I can beat you

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running!" So the Coyote said, "We will run a race to-morrow." That night they parted, and went to their homes, so that they could get ready for the race the next morning. After the Turtle reached home he began to worry, and he could not get to sleep, for he knew that the Coyote could run fast. But the Turtle said to himself: "I will take him up there and go to the other Turtles, and ask them to assist me." So the Turtle went to the other Turtles, and said: "I am about to run a race with the Coyote. I want you to help me." He told them the place where they were to run, and the distance they were to run. So several Turtles volunteered to go and help the Turtle to beat the Coyote.

All the Turtles went to the place. They placed one Turtle at the end of the course; then they placed another one at a certain distance back of him; then another back of this one, and so on, and finally the Turtle himself took his stand. Each Turtle carried a long pole, and hid in the ground.

The next morning the Turtle met the Coyote. The Coyote began to run around and was happy, for he thought that he was going to beat the Turtle. The Turtle and the Coyote got ready to start. The Turtle gave the command to start. The Coyote ran and the Turtle crawled into his hole. When he got over a little ridge the Coyote saw the Turtle going ahead of him. Coyote ran and caught up with the Turtle. The Turtle threw his pole away and crawled into the ground. When the Coyote got to another knoll, there was the Turtle ahead of him again. The Coyote caught up with him. The Turtle crawled into the ground. The Coyote ran, and when he got up to another hill, there was the Turtle going ahead. The Coyote caught up with and passed him. At the end, the Turtle was at the goal, and the Coyote got up, and said, "You have beaten me." This fine stretch of running killed the Coyote.

XCI. THE PEACE FABLE[302]

(WYANDOT: Barbeau, Memoirs of the Geological Survey of Canada: Anthropological Series, xi, 210, No. 65)

As he was travelling one day, the Fox saw his cousin the Rooster perched high upon a tree. "Come down, cousin!" exclaimed the Fox, "let us have a chat!" The Rooster replied, "Oh, no!" And the Fox went on saying, "We all live in peace now, and

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have arranged not to slay each other any longer." The rooster then warned the Fox, "I hear something, cousin; I hear the hounds rushing this way." The Fox said, "Oh! I must be going!" But the Rooster objected, "No! You have just told me that we all live in peace now, and that we must not kill each other any longer!" The Fox explained, "I must be going! They have not yet received word as we have."

So the old Fox has been running ever since.

XCII. THE ANT AND THE GRASSHOPPER[303]

(SHUSWAP: Teit, Jesup North Pacific Expedition, ii, 655)

Grasshopper lived with the people who were busy catching and curing salmon. They said to him, "Come help us. It is the salmon season. We must all work, that we may have a plentiful store of salmon for the winter." Grasshopper answered, "No, I do not like to work. I like to amuse myself playing, jumping, and making a noise. I do not need salmon. I like to eat grass, of which there is great plenty all around here." Soon winter came, and the grass was all covered deep with snow. Then Grasshopper was cold and hungry. Finding nothing to eat, and being in a starving condition, he begged the people to give him some dried salmon. This they refused to do, telling him to go and play, and eat grass. When he was nearly dead, they transformed him, saying, "Henceforth you shall be the grasshopper and, as you were too lazy and thoughtless to catch salmon, you shall live on grass, and spend your time jumping around and making much noise."