Class Book ' -i .1^ A 5.2j COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT INDIAN WHY STORIES .^jsr, "Yes — the ^Mirc-pidpU' always make their nests in the heads of the dead Buffalo-people, ever since that night" {Page 71) INDIAN WHY STORIES SPARKS FROM WAR^ EAGLE'S LODGE-FIRE FRANK B. LINDERMAN JCb ^"SKEE • SEE - CO • COT] CHARLES M. RUSSELL [CAH-NE'TA'WAH- SEE- NA- E - KET] CHARLES SCRIE)NER:S SONS NEW YOILK J9J^5^ ■£^^q CopYRir.nT, 1915, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Published September, 1915 SEP 301915 ©CI,A410695 I DEDICATE THIS LITTLE BOOK TO MY FRIEND CHARLES M. RUSSELL THE COWBOY ARTIST GEORGE BIRD GRINNELL THE Indian's friend AND TO ALL OTHERS WHO HAVE KNOWN AND LOVED OLD MONTANA FOR I HOLD THEM ALL AS KIN WHO HAVE BUILDED FIRES WHERE NATURE WEARS NO MAKE-UP ON HER SKIN S(, PREFACE The great Northwest — that wonderful fron- tier that called to itself a world's hardiest spirits — is rapidly becoming a settled country; and before the light of civilizing influences, the blanket-Indian has trailed the buffalo over the divide that time has set between the pioneer and the crowd. With his passing we have lost much of the aboriginal folk-lore, rich in its fairy-like characters, and its relation to the lives of a most warlike people. There is a wide difference between folk-lore of the so-called Old World and that of America. Transmitted orally through countless genera- tions, the folk-stories of our ancestors show many evidences of distortion and of change in material particulars; but the Indian seems to have been too fond of nature and too proud of PREFACE tradition to have forgotten or changed the teachings of his forefathers. Childlike in sim- plicity, beginning with creation itself, and reaching to the whys and wherefores of nature's moods and eccentricities, these tales impress me as being well worth saving. The Indian has always been a lover of nature and a close observer of her many moods. The habits of the birds and animals, the voices of the winds and waters, the flickering of the shadows, and the mystic radiance of the moon- light — all appealed to him. Gradually, he for- mulated within himself fanciful reasons for the myriad manifestations of the Mighty Mother and her many children; and a poet by instinct, he framed odd stories with which to convey his explanations to others. And these stories were handed down from father to son, with little variation, through countless generations, until the white man slaughtered the buffalo, took to PREFACE himself the open country, and left the red man little better than a beggar. But the tribal story-teller has passed, and only here and there is to be found a patriarch who loves the legends of other days. Old-man, or Napa, as he is called by the tribes of Blackfeet, is the strangest character in Indian folk-lore. Sometimes he appears as a god or creator, and again as a fool, a thief, or a clown. But to the Indian, Napa is not the Deity; he occupies a somewhat subordinate position, possessing many attributes which have sometimes caused him to be confounded with Manitou, himself. In all of this there is a curi- ous echo of the teachings of the ancient Aryans, whose belief it was that this earth was not the direct handiwork of the Almighty, but of a mere member of a hierarchy of subordinate gods. The Indian possesses the highest veneration for the Great God, who has become familiar to the readers of Indian literature as Manitou. No PREFACE idle tales are told of Him, nor would any Indian mention Him irreverently. But with Napa it is entirely different; he appears entitled to no reverence; he is a strange mixture of the fal- lible human and the powerful under-god. He made many mistakes; was seldom to be trusted; and his works and pranks run from the sub- lime to the ridiculous. In fact, there are many stories in which Napa figures that will not bear telling at all. I propose to tell what I know of these legends, keeping as near as possible to the Indian's style of story-telling, and using only tales told me by the older men of the Blackfeet, Chip- pewa, and Cree tribes. CONTENTS PAGE Why the Chipmunk's Back is Striped . . 3 How the Ducks Got Their Fine Feathers 17 Why the Kingfisher Always Wears a War-Bonnet 27 Why the Curlew's Bill is Long and Crooked 37 Old-Man Remakes the World 47 Why Blackfeet Never Kill Mice ... 65 How the Otter Skin Became Great "Medi- cine" 75 Old-Man Steals the Sun's Leggings . . 91 Old-Man and His Conscience 105 Old-Man's Treachery 117 Why the Night-Hawk's Wings are Beau- tiful 127 Why THE Mountain-Lion is Long and Lean 137 The Fire-Leggings 151 xi CONTENTS PAGE The Moon and the Great Snake . . . 159 Why the Deer Has no Gall 167 Why Indians Whip the Buffalo-Berries FROM the Bushes 175 Old-Man and the Fox 185 Why the Birch-Tree Wears the Slashes IN Its Bark 199 Mistakes of Old-Man 207 How the Man Found His Mate . . . . 213 Dreams 221 Retrospection 233 ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES M. RUSSELL « Yes— the Mice-people always make their nests in the heads of the dead Buffalo-people, ever since that _ • 1^1^)) Frontispiece FACWG PAGE "The Person was full of arrows, and he was pulling them from his ugly body" ^ ' "Then she sang a queer song over and over again until the Young-man had learned it well" 7o "'I am sorry for you,' said the White Beaver— Chief of all the Beavers in the world" 80 "'Smoke,' said OW-man, and passed the pipe to his visitor" ^^' ujlo!- when the ghost-people saw the Unlucky-one they rushed at him with many lances" .... 86 "This big Snake used to crawl up a high hill and watch the Moon in the sky" ^°° "He went up on the steep hillside and commenced to roll big rocks down upon her lodge" 216 Also the illustrations in colors on the cover and the title- page, and the black and white drawings m the text. xm INTRODUCTION It was the moon when leaves were falling, for Napa had finished painting them for their dance with the North wind. Just over the ragged mountain range the big moon hung in an almost starless sky, and in shadowy outline every peak lay upon the plain like a giant pat- tern. Slowly the light spread and as slowly the shadows stole away until the October moon looked down on the great Indian camp — a hun- dred lodges, each as perfect in design as the tusks of a young silver-tip, and all looking ghostly white in the still of the autumn night. Back from the camp, keeping within the ever-moving shadows, a buffalo-wolf skulked to a hill overlooking the scene, where he stopped to look and listen, his body silhouetted against INTRODUCTION the sky. A dog howled occasionally, and the weird sound of a tom-tom accompanying the voice of a singer in the Indian village reached the wolf's ears, but caused him no alarm; for not until a great herd of ponies, under the eyes of the night-herder, drifted too close, did he steal away. Near the centre of the camp was the big painted lodge of War Eagle, the medicine-man, and inside had gathered his grandchildren, to whom he was telling the stories of the creation and of the strange doings of Napa, the creator. Being a friend of the old historian, I entered un- hindered, and with the children Hstened until the hour grew late, and on the lodge-wall the dying fire made warning shadows dance. WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED TX 7HAT a splendid lodge it was, and how ^ ^ grand War Eagle looked leaning against his back-rest in the firelight ! From the tri- pod that supported the back-rest were sus- pended his weapons and his medicine-bundle, each showing the wonderful skill of the maker. The quiver that held the arrows was combined with a case for the bow, and colored quills of the porcupine had been deftly used to make it a thing of beauty. All about the lodge hung the strangely painted linings, and the fire- light added richness to both color and design. War Eagle's hair was white, for he had known many snows; but his eyes were keen and bright as a boy's, as he gazed in pride at his grand- children across the lodge-fire. He was wise, and had been in many battles, for his was a 3 INDIAN WHY STORIES warlike tribe. He knew all about the world and the people in it. He was deeply religious, and every Indian child loved him for his good- ness and brave deeds. About the fire were Little Buffalo Calf, a boy of eleven years; Eyes-in-the- Water, his sister, a girl of nine; Fine Bow, a cousin of these, aged ten, and Bluebird, his sister, who was but eight years old. Not a sound did the children make while the old warrior filled his great pipe, and only the snapping of the lodge-fire broke the still- ness. Solemnly War Eagle lit the tobacco that had been mixed with the dried inner bark of the red willow, and for several minutes smoked in silence, while the children's eyes grew large with expectancy. Finally he spoke: **Napa, Old-msLn, is very old indeed. He made this world, and all that is on it. He came out of the south, and travelled toward the north, making the birds and animals as he passed. He made the perfumes for the INDIAN WHY STORIES winds to carry about, and he even made the war-paint for the people to use. He was a busy worker, but a great liar and thief, as I shall show you after I have told you more about him. It was Old-man who taught the beaver all his cunning. It was Old-man who told the bear to go to sleep when the snow grew deep in winter, and it was he who made the curlew's bill so long and crooked, although it was not that way at first. Old-man used to live on this world with the animals and birds. There was no other man or woman then, and he was chief over all the animal-people and the bird-people. He could speak the lan- guage of the robin, knew the words of the bear, and understood the sign-talk of the beaver, too. He lived with the wolves, for they are the great hunters. Even to-day we make the same sign for a smart man as we make for the wolf; so you see he taught them much while he lived with them. Old-man made a great many mistakes in making things, 5 INDIAN WHY STORIES as I shall show you after a while ; yet he worked until he had everything good. But he often made great mischief and taught many wicked things. These I shall tell you about some day. Everybody was afraid of Old-msin and his tricks and lies — even the animal-people, before he made men and women. He used to visit the lodges of our people and make trouble long ago, but he got so wicked that Manitou grew angry at him, and one day in the month of roses, he built a lodge for Old-ma.n and told him that he must stay in it forever. Of course he had to do that, and nobody knows where the lodge was built, nor in what country, but that is why we never see him as our grand- fathers did, long, long ago. "What I shall tell you now happened when the world was young. It was a fine sum- mer day, and Old-man was travelling in the forest. He was going north and straight as an arrow — looking at nothing, hearing noth- ing. No one knows what he was after, to 6 INDIAN WHY STORIES this day. The birds and forest-people spoke politely to him as he passed but he answered none of them. The Pine-squirrel, who is al- ways trying to find out other people's business, asked him where he was going, but 0/^-man wouldn't tell him. The woodpecker hammered on a dead tree to make him look that way, but he wouldn't. The Elk-people and the Deer- people saw him pass, and all said that he must be up to some mischief or he would stop and talk a while. The pine-trees murmured, and the bushes whispered their greeting, but he kept his eyes straight ahead and went on travelling. "The sun was low when Old-msn heard a groan" (here War Eagle groaned to show the children how it sounded), ''and turning about he saw a warrior lying bruised and bleeding near a spring of cold water. Old-man knelt beside the man and asked : * Is there war in this country ? ' "'Yes,' answered the man. *This whole 7 INDIAN WHY STORIES day long we have fought to kill a Person, but we have all been killed, I am afraid.' "'That is strange,' said Old-rmn; 'how can one Person kill so many men? Who is this Person, tell me his name ! ' but the man didn't answer — he was dead. When OW-man saw that life had left the wounded man, he drank from the spring, and went on toward the north, but before long he heard a noise as of men fighting, and he stopped to look and listen. Finally he saw the bushes bend and sway near a creek that flowed through the forest. He crawled toward the spot, and peering through the brush saw a great Person near a pile of dead men, with his back against a pine-tree. The Person was full of arrows, and he was pulling them from his ugly body. Calmly the Person broke the shafts of the arrows, tossed them aside, and stopped the blood flow with a brush of his hairy hand. His head was large and fierce-looking, and his eyes were small and wicked. His great body was larger "The rcrson was full of arrows, and he was puUing them from his ugly body" INDIAN WHY STORIES than that of a buffalo-bull and covered with scars of many battles. ''Old-man went to the creek, and with his buffalo-horn cup brought some water to the Person, asking as he approached: *'*Who are you. Person? Tell me, so I can make you a fine present, for you are great in war.' "*I am Bad Sickness,' replied the Person. 'Tribes I have met remember me and always will, for their bravest warriors are afraid when I make war upon them. I come in the night or I visit their camps in daylight. It is always the same; they are frightened and I kill them easily.' " 'Ho!' said O/c^-man, 'tell me how to make Bad Sickness, for I often go to war myself.' He lied; for he was never in a battle in his life. The Person shook his ugly head and then Old- man said: '"If you will tell me how to make Bad Sick- ness I will make you small and handsome. When you are big, as you now are, it is very INDIAN WHY STORIES hard to make a living; but when you are small, little food will make you fat. Your living will be easy because I will make your food grow everywhere.' *''Good,' said the Person, *I will do it; you must kill the fawns of the deer and the calves of the elk when they first begin to live. When you have killed enough of them you must make a robe of their skins. Whenever you wear that robe and sing — "now you sicken, now you sicken," the sickness will come — that is all there is to it. ' "'Good,' said Old-man, 'now lie down to sleep and I will do as I promised.' "The Person went to sleep and Old-man breathed upon him until he grew so tiny that he laughed to see how small he had made him. Then he took out his paint sack and striped the Person's back with black and yellow. It looked bright and handsome and he waked the Person, who was now a tiny animal with a bushy tail to make him pretty. 10 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'Now,' said Old-rmn, 'you are the Chip- munk, and must always wear those striped clothes. All of your children and their chil- dren, must wear them, too.' "After the Chipmunk had looked at him- self, and thanked 0/^-man for his new clothes, he wanted to know how he could make his living, and O/^Z-man told him what to eat, and said he must cache the pine-nuts when the leaves turned yellow, so he would not have to work in the winter time. "'You are a cousin to the Pine-squirrel,' said Old-msn, 'and you will hunt and hide as he does. You will be spry and your living will be easy to make if you do as I have told you. ' "He taught the Chipmunk his language and his signs, showed him where to live, and then left him, going on toward the north again. He kept looking for the cow-elk and doe-deer, and it was not long before he had killed enough of their young to make the robe as the Person told him, for they were plentiful before the 11 INDIAN WHY STORIES white man came to live on the world. He found a shady place near a creek, and there made the robe that would make Bad Sick- ness whenever he sang the queer song, but the robe was plain, and brown in color. He didn't like the looks of it. Suddenly he thought how nice the back of the Chipmunk looked after he had striped it with his paints. He got out his old paint sack and with the same colors made the robe look very much like the clothes of the Chipmunk. He was proud of the work, and liked the new robe better; but being lazy, he wanted to save himself work, so he sent the South-wind to tell all the doe-deer and the cow-elk to come to him. They came as soon as they received the mes- sage, for they were afraid of 0/^-man and always tried to please him. When they had all reached the place where Old-man was he said to them: '"Do you see this robe?' "'Yes, we see it,' they replied. 12 INDIAN WHY STORIES "*Well, I have made it from the skins of your children, and then painted it to look like the Chipmunk's back, for I like the looks of that Person's clothes. I shall need many more of these robes during my life; and every time I make one, I don't want to have to spend my time painting it; so from now on and for- ever your children shall be born in spotted clothes. I want it to be that way to save me work. On all the fawns there must be spots of white like this (here he pointed to the spots on Bad Sickness's robe) and on all of the elk- calves the spots shall not be so white and shall be in rows and look rather yellow. ' Again he showed them his robe, that they might see just what he wanted. "'Remember,' he said, 'after this I don't want to see any of your children running about wearing plain clothing, because that would mean more painting for me. Now go away, and remember what I have said, lest I make you sick.' 13 INDIAN WHY STORIES "The cow-elk and the doe-deer were glad to know that their children's clothes would be beautiful, and they went away to their little ones who were hidden in the tall grass, where the wolves and mountain-lions would have a hard time finding them; for you know that in the tracks of the fawn there is no scent, and the wolf cannot trail him when he is alone. That is the way Manitou takes care of the weak, and all of the forest-people know about it, too. "Now you know why the Chipmunk's back is striped, and why the fawn and elk-calf wear their pretty clothes. "I hear the owls, and it is time for all young men who will some day be great warriors to go to bed, and for all young women to seek rest, lest beauty go away forever. Ho!" 14 m vi ST HOW THE DUCKS GOT THEIR FINE FEATHERS HOW THE DUCKS GOT THEIR FINE FEATHERS ANOTHER night had come, and I made ^ my way toward War Eagle's lodge. In the bright moonlight the dead leaves of the quaking-aspen fluttered down whenever the wind shook the trees; and over the village great flocks of ducks and geese and swan passed in a never-ending procession, calling to each other in strange tones as they sped away toward the waters that never freeze. In the lodge War Eagle waited for his grand- children, and when they had entered, happily, he laid aside his pipe and said: "The Duck-people are travelling to-night just as they have done since the world was young. They are going away from winter because they cannot make a living when ice covers the rivers. 17 INDIAN WHY STORIES **You have seen the Duck-people often. You have noticed that they wear fine clothes but you do not know how they got them; so I will tell you to-night. "It was in the fall when leaves are yellow that it happened, and long, long ago. The Duck-people had gathered to go away, just as they are doing now. The buck-deer was com- ing down from the high ridges to visit friends in the lowlands along the streams as they have always done. On a lake Old-man saw the Duck-people getting ready to go away, and at that time they all looked alike; that is, they all wore the same colored clothes. The loons and the geese and the ducks were there and playing in the sunlight. The loons were laugh- ing loudly and the diving was fast and merry to see. On the hill where Old-man stood there was a great deal of moss, and he began to tear it from the ground and roll it into a great ball. When he had gathered all he needed he shoul- dered the load and started for the shore of 18 INDIAN WHY STORIES the lake, staggering under the weight of the great burden. Finally the Duck-people saw him coming with his load of moss and began to swim away from the shore. "'Wait, my brothers!' he called, *I have a big load here, and I am going to give you people a dance. Come and help me get things ready. ' " * Don't you do it, ' said the gray goose to the others; 'that's Old-man and he is up to something bad, I am sure. ' "So the loon called to Old-man and said they wouldn't help him at all. "Right near the water Old-man dropped his ball of moss and then cut twenty long poles. With the poles he built a lodge which he covered with the moss, leaving a doorway facing the lake. Inside the lodge he built a fire and when it grew bright he cried: "'Say, brothers, why should you treat me this way when I am here to give you a big dance? Come into the lodge,' but they 19 INDIAN WHY STORIES wouldn't do that. Finally OW-man began to sing a song in the duck-talk, and keep time with his drum. The Duck-people liked the music, and swam a little nearer to the shore, watching for trouble all the time, but Old- man sang so sweetly that pretty soon they waddled up to the lodge and went inside. The loon stopped near the door, for he be- lieved that what the gray goose had said was true, and that 0/^-man was up to some mis- chief. The gray goose, too, was careful to stay close to the door but the ducks reached all about the fire. Politely, OW-man passed the pipe, and they all smoked with him be- cause it is wrong not to smoke in a person's lodge if the pipe is offered, and the Duck- people knew that. "'Well,* said Old-vmn, 'this is going to be the Blind-dance, but you will have to be painted first. "'Brother Mallard, name the colors — tell how you want me to paint you. * 20 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'Well,' replied the mallard drake, 'paint my head green, and put a white circle around my throat, like a necklace. Besides that, I want a brown breast and yellow legs; but I don't want my wife painted that way. ' "Old-man painted him just as he asked, and his wife, too. Then the teal and the wood-duck (it took a long time to paint the wood-duck) and the spoonbill and the blue- bill and the canvasback and the goose and the brant and the loon — all chose their paint. Old-man painted them all just as they wanted him to, and kept singing all the time. They looked very pretty in the firelight, for it was night before the painting was done. "'Now,' said Old-man, 'as this is the Blind- dance, when I beat upon my drum you must all shut your eyes tight and circle around the fire as I sing. Every one that peeks will have sore eyes forever.' "Then the Duck-people shut their eyes and Old-man began to sing: 'Now you come, ducks, 21 INDIAN WHY STORIES now you come — tum-tum, turn; tum-tum, turn.' "Around the fire they came with their eyes still shut, and as fast as they reached Old-msn, the rascal would seize them, and wring their necks. Ho! things were going fine for Old- man, but the loon peeked a little, and saw what was going on; several others heard the fluttering and opened their eyes, too. The loon cried out, * He 's killing us — let us fly, ' and they did that. There was a great squawk- ing and quacking and fluttering as the Duck- people escaped from the lodge. Ho! but Old- man was angry, and he kicked the back of the loon-duck, and that is why his feet turn from his body when he walks or tries to stand. Yes, that is why he is a cripple to-day. "And all of the Duck-people that peeked that night at the dance still have sore eyes — just as Old-man told them they would have. Of course they hurt and smart no more but they stay red to pay for peeking, and always 22 INDIAN WHY STORIES will. You have seen the mallard and the rest of the Duck-people. You can see that the colors OW-man painted so long ago are still bright and handsome, and they will stay that way forever and forever. Ho!" 28 WHY THE KINGFISHER ALWAYS WEARS A WAR-BONNET WHY THE KINGFISHER ALWAYS WEARS A WAR-BONNET AUTUMN nights on the upper Missouri ■ river in Montana are indescribably beau- tiful, and under their spell imagination is a constant companion to him who lives in wil- derness, lending strange, weird echoes to the voice of man or wolf, and unnatural shapes in shadow to commonplace forms. The moon had not yet climbed the distant mountain range to look down on the humbler lands when I started for War Eagle's lodge; and dimming the stars in its course, the milky- way stretched across the jewelled sky. "The wolf's trail," the Indians call this filmy streak that foretells fair weather, and to-night it promised much, for it seemed plainer and brighter than ever before. "How — how!" greeted War Eagle, making 27 INDIAN WHY STORIES the sign for me to be seated near him, as I entered his lodge. Then he passed me his pipe and together we smoked until the chil- dren came. Entering quietly, they seated themselves in exactly the same positions they had occupied on the previous evenings, and patiently waited in silence. Finally War Eagle laid the pipe away and said: "Ho! Little Buffalo Calf, throw a big stick on the fire and I will tell you why the Kingfisher wears a war-bonnet." The boy did as he was bidden. The sparks jumped toward the smoke-hole and the blaze lighted up the lodge until it was bright as day- time, when War Eagle continued: "You have often seen Kingfisher at his fish- ing along the rivers, I know; and you have heard him laugh in his queer way, for he laughs a good deal when he flies. That same laugh nearly cost him his life once, as you will see. I am sure none could see the Kingfisher without noticing his great head-dress, but not many 28 INDIAN WHY STORIES know how he came by it because it happened so long ago that most men have forgotten. "It was one day in the winter-time when OW-man and the Wolf were hunting. The snow covered the land and ice was on all of the rivers. It was so cold that Old-man wrapped his robe close about himself and his breath showed white in the air. Of course the Wolf was not cold; wolves never get cold as men do. Both Old-ma.n and the Wolf were hungry for they had travelled far and had killed no meat. Old-man was complaining and grum- bling, for his heart is not very good. It is never well to grumble when we are doing our best, because it will do no good and makes us weak in our hearts. When our hearts are weak our heads sicken and our strength goes away. Yes, it is bad to grumble. "When the sun was getting low Old-man and the Wolf came to a great river. On the ice that covered the water, they saw four fat Otters playing. 29 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'There is meat,' said the Wolf; 'wait here and I will try to catch one of those fellows. ' "'No! — No!' cried Old-man, 'do not run after the Otter on the ice, because there are air-holes in all ice that covers rivers, and you may fall in the water and die.' Old-man didn't care much if the Wolf did drown. He was afraid to be left alone and hungry in the snow — that was all. "'Ho!' said the Wolf, 'I am swift of foot and my teeth are white and sharp. What chance has an Otter against me? Yes, I will go,' and he did. "Away ran the Otters with the Wolf after them, while Old-man stood on the bank and shivered with fright and cold. Of course the Wolf was faster than the Otter, but he was running on the ice, remember, and slipping a good deal. Nearer and nearer ran the Wolf. In fact he was just about to seize an Otter, when SPLASH ! — into an air-hole all the Otters went. Ho! the Wolf was going so fast 30 INDIAN WHY STORIES he couldn't stop, and SWOW! into the air- hole he went like a badger after mice, and the current carried him under the ice. The Otters knew that hole was there. That was their country and they were running to reach that same hole all the time, but the Wolf didn't know that. ''Old-man saw it all and began to cry and wail as women do. Ho! but he made a great fuss. He ran along the bank of the river, stumbling in the snowdrifts, and crying like a woman whose child is dead; but it was be- cause he didn't want to be left in that coun- try alone that he cried — not because he loved his brother, the Wolf. On and on he ran until he came to a place where the water was too swift to freeze, and there he waited and watched for the Wolf to come out from under the ice, crying and wailing and making an awful noise, for a man. "Well — right there is where the thing hap- pened. You see, Kingfisher can't fish through 31 INDIAN WHY STORIES the ice and he knows it, too; so he always finds places like the one Old-man found. He was there that day, sitting on the limb of a birch-tree, watching for fishes, and when Old- man came near to Kingfisher's tree, crying like an old woman, it tickled the Fisher so much that he laughed that queer, chattering laugh. "Old-rmn heard him and — Ho! but he was angry. He looked about to see who was laughing at him and that made Kingfisher laugh again, longer and louder than before. This time 0/^-man saw him and SWOW! he threw his war-club at Kingfisher; tried to kill the bird for laughing. Kingfisher ducked so quickly that 0/^-man's club just grazed the feathers on his head, making them stand up straight. '** There,* said Old-rmn, 'I'll teach you to laugh at me when I 'm sad. Your feathers are standing up on the top of your head now and they will stay that way, too. As long 32 INDIAN WHY STORIES as you live you must wear a head-dress, to pay for your laughing, and all your children must do the same. "This was long, long ago, but the King- fishers have not forgotten, and they all wear war-bonnets, and always will as long as there are Kingfishers. **Now I will say good night, and when the sun sleeps again I will tell you why the curlew's bill is so long and crooked. Ho!" 33 WHY THE CURLEW'S BILL IS LONG AND CROOKED WHY THE CURLEW'S BILL IS LONG AND CROOKED WHEN we reached War Eagle's lodge we stopped near the door, for the old fellow was singing — singing some old, sad song of younger days and keeping time with his tom-tom. Somehow the music made me sad and not until it had ceased, did we enter. "How! How!" — he greeted us, with no trace of the sadness in his voice that I de- tected in his song. "You have come here to-night to learn why the Curlew's bill is so long and crooked. I will tell you, as I promised, but first I must smoke." In silence we waited until the pipe was laid aside, then War Eagle began: "By this time you know that 0/^-man was not always wise, even if he did make the 37 INDIAN WHY STORIES world, and all that is on it. He often got into trouble but something always happened to get him out of it. What I shall tell you now will show you that it is not well to try to do things just because others do them. They may be right for others, and wrong for us, but Old-man didn't understand that, you see. **One day he saw some mice playing and went near to watch them. It was spring- time, and the frost was just coming out of the ground. A big flat rock was sticking out of a bank near a creek, and the sun had melted the frost from the earth about it, loos- ening it, so that it was about to fall. The Chief - Mouse would sing a song, while all the other mice danced, and then the chief would cry 'now!' and all the mice would run past the big rock. On the other side, the Chief-Mouse would sing again, and then say 'now!' — back they would come — -right under the danger- ous rock. Sometimes little bits of dirt would crumble and fall near the rock, as though 88 INDIAN WHY STORIES warning the mice that the rock was going to fall, but they paid no attention to the warn- ing, and kept at their playing. Finally Old- man said: "'Say, Chief-Mouse, I want to try that. I want to play that game. I am a good run- ner.' "He wasn't, you know, but he thought he could run. That is often where we make great mistakes — when we try to do things we were not intended to do. "*No — no!' cried the Chief-Mouse, as Old- man prepared to make the race past the rock. 'No! — No! — you will shake the ground. You are too heavy, and the rock may fall and kill you. My people are light of foot and fast. We are having a good time, but if you should try to do as we are doing you might get hurt, and that would spoil our fun.' "'Ho!' said 0/• --^ WHY THE NIGHT-HAWK'S WINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL WHY THE NIGHT-HAWK'S WINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL I WAS awakened by the voice of the camp- crier, and although it was yet dark I listened to his message. The camp was to move. All were to go to the mouth of the Maria's — "The River That Scolds at the Other"— the Indians call this stream, that disturbs the waters of the Mis- souri with its swifter flood. On through the camp the crier rode, and behind him the lodge-fires glowed in answer to his call. The village was awake, and soon the thunder of hundreds of hoofs told me that the pony-bands were being driven into camp, where the faithful were being roped for the journey. Fires flickered in the now fading darkness, and down came the lodges as though 127 INDIAN WHY STORIES wizard hands had touched them. Before the sun had come to light the world, we were on our way to "The River That Scolds at the Other." Not a cloud was in the sky, and the wind was still. The sun came and touched the plains and hilltops with the light that makes all wild things glad. Here and there a jack- rabbit scurried away, often followed by a pack of dogs, and sometimes, though not often, they were overtaken and devoured on the spot. Bands of graceful antelope bounded out of our way, stopping on a knoll to watch the strange procession with wondering eyes, and once we saw a dust-cloud raised by a moving herd of buffalo, in the distance. So the day wore on, the scene constantly changing as we travelled. Wolves and coyotes looked at us from almost every knoll and hill- top; and sage-hens sneaked to cover among the patches of sage-brush, scarcely ten feet away from our ponies. Toward sundown we 128 INDIAN WHY STORIES reached a grove of cottonwoods near the mouth of the Maria's, and in an incredibly short space of time the lodges took form. Soon, from out the tops of a hundred camps, smoke was curling just as though the lodges had been there always, and would forever remain. As soon as supper was over I found the children, and together we sought War Eagle's lodge. He was in a happy mood and insisted upon smoking two pipes before commencing his story-telling. At last he said: "To-night I shall tell you why the Night- hawk wears fine clothes. My grandfather told me about it when I was young. I am sure you have seen the Night-hawk sailing over you, dipping and making that strange noise. Of course there is a reason for it. ''Old-msLU was travelling one day in the springtime; but the weather was fine for that time of year. He stopped often and spoke to the bird-people and to the animal-people, for he was in good humor that day. He talked 129 INDIAN WHY STORIES pleasantly with the trees, and his heart grew tender. That is, he had good thoughts; and of course they made him happy. Finally he felt tired and sat down to rest on a big, round stone — the kind of stone our white friend there calls a bowlder. Here he rested for a while, but the stone was cold, and he felt it through his robe; so he said: '"Stone, you seem cold to-day. You may have my robe. I have hundreds of robes in my camp, and I don't need this one at all.' That was a lie he told about having so many robes. All he had was the one he wore. "He spread his robe over the stone, and then started down the hill, naked, for it was really a fine day. But storms hide in the mountains, and are never far away when it is springtime. Soon it began to snow — then the wind blew from the north with a good strength behind it. Old-man said: "'Well, I guess I do need that robe myself, after all. That stone never did anything for 130 INDIAN WHY STORIES me anyhow. Nobody is ever good to a stone. I '11 just go back and get my robe. ' "Back he went and found the stone. Then he pulled the robe away, and wrapped it about himself. Ho! but that made the stone angry — Ho ! 0/^-man started to run down the hill, and the stone ran after him. Ho! it was a funny race they made, over the grass, over smaller stones, and over logs that lay in the way, but Old-man managed to keep ahead until he stubbed his toe on a big sage-brush, and fell — swow ! "'Now I have you!' cried the stone — *now I '11 kill you, too ! Now I will teach you to give presents and then take them away,' and the stone rolled right on top of Old-man, and sat on his back. "It was a big stone, you see, and Old-man couldn't move it at all. He tried to throw off the stone but failed. He squirmed and twisted — no use — the stone held him fast. He called the stone some names that are not 131 INDIAN WHY STORIES good; but that never helps any. At last he began to call: " ' Help ! — Help ! — Help ! ' but nobody heard him except the Night-hawk, and he told the Old-man that he would help him all he could ; so he flew away up in the air — so far that he looked like a black speck. Then he came down straight and struck that rock an awful blow — * swow ! ' — and broke it in two pieces. Indeed he did. The blow was so great that it spoiled the Night-hawk's bill, forever — made it queer in shape, and jammed his head, so that it is queer, too. But he broke the rock, and Old-man stood upon his feet. "'Thank you, Brother Night-hawk,' said Old- man, 'now I will do something for you. I am going to make you different from other birds — make you so people will always notice you.' "You know that when you break a rock the powdered stone is white, like snow; and 132 INDIAN WHY STORIES there is always some of the white powder whenever you break a rock, by pounding it. Well, Old-mELVi took some of the fine powdered stone and shook it on the Night-hawk's wings in spots and stripes — made the great white stripes you have seen on his wings, and told him that no other bird could have such marks on his clothes. "All the Night-hawk's children dress the same way now; and they always will as long as there are Night-hawks. Of course their clothes make them proud; and that is why they keep at flying over people's heads — soaring and dipping and turning all the time, to show off their pretty wings. "That is all for to-night. Muskrat, tell your father I would run Buffalo with him to- morrow — Ho!" 133 :^» WHY THE MOUNTAIN-LION IS LONG AND LEAN WHY THE MOUNTAIN-LION IS LONG AND LEAN HAVE you ever seen the plains in the morning — a June morning, when the spurred lark soars and sings — when the plover calls, and the curlew pipes his shriller notes to the rising sun? Then is there music, in- deed, for no bird outsings the spurred lark; and thanks to Old-man he is not wanting in numbers, either. The plains are wonderful then — more wonderful than they are at this season of the year; but at all times they beckon and hold one as in a spell, especially when they are backed or bordered by a snow-capped mountain range. Looking toward the east they are boundless, but on their western edge superb mountains rear themselves. All over this vast country the Indians roamed, following the great buffalo herds as 137 INDIAN WHY STORIES did the wolves, and making their living with the bow and lance, since the horse came to them. In the very old days the "piskun" was used, and buffalo were enticed to follow a fantastically dressed man toward a cliff, far enough to get the herd moving in that direc- tion, when the "buffalo-man" gained cover, and hidden Indians raised from their hiding- places behind the animals, and drove them over the cliff, where they were killed in large numbers. Not until Cortez came with his cavalry from Spain, were there horses on this continent, and then generations passed ere the plains tribes possessed this valuable animal, that so ma- terially changed their lives. Dogs dragged the Indian's travois or packed his household goods in the days before the horse came, and for hundreds — perhaps thousands of years, these people had no other means of trans- porting their goods and chattels. As the Indian is slow to forget or change the ways of his 138 INDIAN WHY STORIES father, we should pause before we brand him as wholly improvident, I think. He has always been a family-man, has the Indian, and small children had to be carried, as well as his camp equipage. Wolf-dogs had to be fed, too, in some way, thus adding to his burden; for it took a great many to make it possible for him to travel at all. When the night came and we visited War Eagle, we found he had other company — so we waited until their visit was ended before settling ourselves to hear the story that he might tell us. "The Crows have stolen some of our best horses," said War Eagle, as soon as the other guests had gone. ''That is all right — we shall get them back, and more, too. The Crows have only borrowed those horses and will pay for their use with others of their own. To-night I shall tell you why the Mountain- lion is so long and thin and why he wears hair that looks singed. I shall also tell you 139 INDIAN WHY STORIES why that person's nose is black, because it is part of the story. "A long time ago the Mountain-lion was a short, thick-set person. I am sure you didn't guess that. He was always a great thief like 0/^-man, but once he went too far, as you shall see. "One day Old-rmn was on a hilltop, and saw smoke curling up through the trees, away off on the far side of a gulch. * Ho ! ' he said, *I wonder who builds fires except me. I guess I will go and find out.' "He crossed the gulch and crept carefully toward the smoke. When he got quite near where the fire was, he stopped and listened. He heard some loud laughing but could not see who it was that felt so glad and gay. Finally he crawled closer and peeked through the brush toward the fire. Then he saw some Squirrel-people, and they were playing some sort of game. They were running and laugh- ing, and having a big time, too. What do 140 INDIAN WHY STORIES you think they were doing? They were run- ning about the fire — all chasing one Squirrel. As soon as the Squirrel was caught, they would bury him in the ashes near the fire until he cried; then they would dig him out in a hurry. Then another Squirrel would take the lead and run until he was caught, as ' the other had been. In turn the captive would sub- mit to being buried, and so on — while the racing and laughing continued. They never left the buried one in the ashes after he cried, but always kept their promise and dug him out, right away. "'Say, let me play, won't you?' asked Old-man. But the Squirrel-people all ran away, and he had a hard time getting them to return to the fire. "'You can't play this game,' replied the Chief-Squirrel, after they had returned to the fire. "'Yes, I can,' declared 0/^-man, 'and you may bury me first, but be sure to dig me out 141 INDIAN WHY STORIES when I cry, and not let me burn, for those ashes are hot near the fire. ' '"All right,' said the Chief-Squirrel, *we will let you play. Lie down, ' — and Old- man did lie down near the fire. Then the Squirrels began to laugh and bury OW-man in the ashes, as they did their own kind. In no time at all Old-man cried : * Ouch ! — you are burning me — quick ! — dig me out. ' "True to their promise, the Squirrel-people dug Old-man out of the ashes, and laughed at him because he cried so quickly. " * Now, it is my turn to cover the captive, * said Old-man, 'and as there are so many of you, I have a scheme that will make the game funnier and shorter. All of you lie down at once in a row. Then I will cover you all at one time. When you cry — I will dig you out right away and the game will be over. ' "They didn't know Old-man very well; so they said, 'all right,' and then they all laid down in a row about the fire. 142 INDIAN WHY STORIES "0/rf-man buried them all in the ashes — then he threw some more wood on the fire and went away and left them. Every Squirrel there was in the world was buried in the ashes except one woman Squirrel, and she told 0/^- man she couldn't play and had to go home. If she hadn't gone, there might not be any Squirrels in this world right now. Yes, it is lucky that she went home. "For a minute or so Old-man watched the fire as it grew hotter, and then went down to a creek where willows grew and made him- self a great plate by weaving them together. When he had finished making the plate, he returned to the fire, and it had burned low again. He laughed at his wicked work, and a Raven, flying over just then, called him * f orked- tongue, ' or liar, but he didn't mind that at all. Old-man cut a long stick and began to dig out the Squirrel-people. One by one he fished them out of the hot ashes;: and they were roasted fine and were ready to 143 INDIAN WHY STORIES eat. As he fished them out he counted them, and laid them on the willow plate he had made. When he had dug out the last one, he took the plate to the creek and there sat down to eat the Squirrels, for he was hungry, as usual. Old-man is a big eater, but he couldn't eat all of the Squirrels at once, and while eating he fell asleep with the great plate in his lap. ** Nobody knows how long it was that he slept, but when he waked his plate of Squirrels was gone — gone completely. He looked be- hind him; he looked about him; but the plate was surely gone. Ho! But he was angry. He stamped about in the brush and called aloud to those who might hear him; but no- body answered, and then he started to look for the thief. 0/<^-man has sharp eyes, and he found the trail in the grass where somebody had passed while he slept. *Ho!' he said, *the Mountain-lion has stolen my Squirrels. I see his footprints; see where he has mashed 144 INDIAN WHY STORIES the grass as he walked with those soft feet of his; but I shall find him, for I made him and know all his ways.' "OW-man got down on his hands and knees to walk as the Bear-people do, just as he did that night in the Sun's lodge, and followed the trail of the Mountain-lion over the hills and through the swamps. At last he came to a place where the grass was all bent down, and there he found his willow plate, but it was empty. That was the place where the Mountain-lion had stopped to eat the rest of the Squirrels, you know; but he didn't stay there long because he expected that Old-man would try to follow him. "The Mountain-lion had eaten so much that he was sleepy and, after travelling a while after he had eaten the Squirrels, he thought he would rest. He hadn't intended to go to sleep; but he crawled upon a big stone near the foot of a hill and sat down where he could see a long way. Here his eyes began to wink, 145 INDIAN WHY STORIES and his head began to nod, and finally he slept. ** Without stopping once, 0/^-man kept on the trail. That is what counts — sticking right to the thing you are doing — and just before sundown Old-man saw the sleeping Lion. Care- fully, lest he wake the sleeper, Old-man crept close, being particular not to move a stone or break a twig; for the Mountain-lion is much faster than men are, you see; and if Old-man had wakened the Lion, he would never have caught him again, perhaps. Little by little he crept to the stone where the Mountain- lion was dreaming, and at last grabbed him by the tail. It wasn't much of a tail then, but enough for Old-man to hold to. Ho! The Lion was scared and begged hard, saying: "'Spare me. Old -man. You were full and I was hungry. I had to have something to eat; had to get my living. Please let me go and do not hurt me.' Ho! Old-man was angry — more angry than he was when he 146 INDIAN WHY STORIES waked and found that he had been robbed, because he had travelled so far on his hands and knees. "'I'll show you. I'll teach you. I'll fix you, right now. Steal from me, will you? Steal from the man that made you, you night- prowling rascal!' '*OW-man put his foot behind the Moun- tain-lion's head, and, still holding the tail, pulled hard and long, stretching the Lion out to great length. He squalled and cried, but Old-man kept pulling until he nearly broke the Mountain-lion in two pieces — until he couldn't stretch him any more. Then Old-man put his foot on the Mountain-lion's back, and, still holding the tail, stretched that out until the tail was nearly as long as the body. "'There, you thief — now you are too long and lean to get fat, and you shall always look just like that. Your children shall all grow to look the same way, just to pay you for your 147 INDIAN WHY STORIES stealing from the man that made you. Come on with me'; and he dragged the poor Lion back to the place where the fire was, and there rolled him in the hot ashes, singeing his robe till it looked a great deal like burnt hair. Then Old-man stuck the Lion's nose against the burnt logs and blackened it some — that is why his face looks as it does to-day. "The Mountain-lion was lame and sore, but OW-man scolded him some more and told him that it would take lots more food to keep him after that, and that he would have to work harder to get his living, to pay for what he had done. Then he said, 'go now, and remember all the Mountain-lions that ever live shall look just as you do.' And they do, too! "That is the story — that is why the Moun- tain-lion is so long and lean, but he is no bigger thief than Old-man, nor does he tell any more lies. Ho!" 148 fjc' ^ >> \t '^>^'%)^'-- frhidi ill' ^'''^^^"' A/ ^ THE FIRE-LEGGINGS i THE FIRE-LEGGINGS 'T^HERE had been a sudden change in the -■- weather. A cold rain was faUing, and the night comes early when the clouds hang low. The children loved a bright fire, and to-night War Eagle's lodge was light as day. Away off on the plains a wolf was howling, and the rain pattered upon the lodge as though it never intended to quit. It was a splendid night for story-telling, and War Eagle filled and lighted the great stone pipe, while the children made themselves comfortable about the fire. A spark sprang from the burning sticks, and fell upon Fine Bow's bare leg. They all laughed heartily at the boy's antics to rid himself of the burning coal; and as soon as the laughing ceased War Eagle laid aside the pipe. An Indian's pipe is large to look at, but holds little tobacco. 151 INDIAN WHY STORIES "See your shadows on the lodge wall?" asked the old warrior. The children said they saw them, and he continued: "Some day I will tell you a story about them, and how they drew the arrows of our enemies, but to-night I am going to tell you of the great fire-leggings. "It was long before there were men and women on the world, but my grandfather told me what I shall now tell you. "The gray light that hides the night-stars was creeping through the forests, and the wind the Sun sends to warn the people of his coming was among the fir tops. Flowers, on slender stems, bent their heads out of respect for the herald-wind's Master, and from the dead top of a pine-tree the Yellowhammer beat upon his drum and called 'the Sun is awake — all hail the Sun ! ' "Then the bush-birds began to sing the song of the morning, and from alders the Robins joined, until all live things were awakened by 152 INDIAN WHY STORIES the great music. Where the tall ferns grew, the Doe waked her Fawns, and taught them to do homage to the Great Light. In the creeks, where the water was still and clear, and where throughout the day, like a delicate damaskeen, the shadows of leaves that over- hang would lie, the Speckled Trout broke the surface of the pool in his gladness of the com- ing day. Pine-squirrels chattered gayly, and loudly proclaimed what the wind had told; and all the shadows were preparing for a great journey to the Sand Hills, where the ghost- people dwell. "Under a great spruce-tree — where the ground was soft and dry, 0/^-man slept. The joy that thrilled creation disturbed him not, although the Sun was near. The bird-people looked at the sleeper in wonder, but the Pine- squirrel climbed the great spruce-tree with a pine-cone in his mouth. Quickly he ran out on the limb that spread over Old-man, and dropped the cone on the sleeper's face. Then 153 INDIAN WHY STORIES he scolded Old-man, saying : * Get up — get up — lazy one — lazy one — get up — get up. ' "Rubbing his eyes in anger, Old-man sat up and saw the Sun coming — his hunting leg- gings slipping through the thickets — setting them afire, till all the Deer and Elk ran out and sought new places to hide. "*Ho, Sun !' called Old-man, 'those are mighty leggings you wear. No wonder you are a great hunter. Your leggings set fire to all the thick- ets, and by the light you can easily see the Deer and Elk; they cannot hide. Ho! Give them to me and I shall then be the great hunter and never be hungry.' "'Good,' said the Sun, 'take them, and let me see you wear my leggings.' *' Old-man was glad in his heart, for he was lazy, and now he thought he could kill the game without much work, and that he could be a great hunter — as great as the Sun. He put on the leggings and at once began to hunt the thickets, for he was hungry. Very soon 154 INDIAN WHY STORIES the leggings began to burn his legs. The faster he travelled the hotter they grew, until in pain he cried out to the Sun to come and take back his leggings; but the Sun would not hear him. On and on 0/^-man ran. Faster and faster he flew through the country, setting fire to the brush and grass as he passed. Finally he came to a great river, and jumped in. Sizzzzzzz — the water said, when Old-man's legs touched it. It cried out, as it does when it is sprinkled upon hot stones in the sweat-lodge, for the leggings were very hot. But standing in the cool water Old-man took off the leggings and threw them out upon the shore, where the Sun found them later in the day. "The Sun's clothes were too big for Old- man, and his work too great. "We should never ask to do the things which Manitou did not intend us to do. If we keep this always in mind we shall never get into trouble. "Be yourselves always. That is what Man- 155 INDIAN WHY STORIES itou intended. Never blame the Wolf for what he does. He was made to do such things. Now I want you to go to your fathers' lodges and sleep. To-morrow night I will tell you why there are so many snakes in the world. Ho!" 156 THE MOON AND THE GREAT SNAKE THE MOON AND THE GREAT SNAKE THE rain had passed; the moon looked down from a clear sky, and the bushes and dead grass smelled wet, after the hea\'y storm. A cottontail ran into a clump of wild-rose bushes near War Eagle's lodge, and some dogs were close behind the frightened animal, as he gained cover. Little Buffalo Calf threw^ a stone into the bushes, scaring the rabbit from his hiding-place, and away went bunny, followed by the yelping pack. We stood and listened until the noise of the chase died away, and then went into the lodge, where we were greeted, as usual, by War Eagle. To-night he smoked; but with greater cere- mony, and I suspected that it had something to do with the forthcoming story. Finally he said: "You have seen many Snakes, I suppose?" 159 INDIAN WHY STORIES "Yes," replied the children, "we have seen a great many. In the summer we see them every day." "Well," continued the story-teller, "once there was only one Snake on the whole world, and he was a big one, I tell you. He was pretty to look at, and was painted with all the colors we know. This snake was proud of his clothes and had a wicked heart. Most Snakes are wicked, because they are his relations. "Now, I have not told you all about it yet, nor will I tell you to-night, but the Moon is the Sun's wife, and some day I shall tell you that story, but to-night I am telling you about the Snakes. "You know that the Sun goes early to bed, and that the Moon most always leaves before he gets to the lodge. Sometimes this is not so, but that is part of another story. "This big Snake used to crawl up a high hill and watch the Moon in the sky. He was in love with her, and she knew it; but she paid 160 'This big Snake used to crawl up a high hill and watch the Moon in the sky" INDIAN WHY STORIES no attention to him. She Hked his looks, for his clothes were fine, and he was always slick and smooth. This went on for a long time, but she never talked to him at all. The Snake thought maybe the hill wasn't high enough, so he found a higher one, and watched the Moon pass, from the top. Every night he climbed this high hill and motioned to her. She began to pay more attention to the big Snake, and one morning early, she loafed at her work a little, and spoke to him. He was flattered, and so was she, because he said many nice things to her, but she went on to the Sun's lodge, and left the Snake. "The next morning very early she saw the Slake again, and this time she stopped a long time — so long that the Sun had started out from the lodge before she reached home. He wondered what kept her so long, and became suspicious of the Snake. He made up his mind to watch, and try to catch them together. So every morning the Sun left the lodge a little 161 INDIAN WHY STORIES earlier than before; and one morning, just as he climbed a mountain, he saw the big Snake talking to the Moon. That made him angry, and you can't blame him, because his wife was spending her time loafing with a Snake. "She ran away; ran to the Sun's lodge and left the Snake on the hill. In no time the Sun had grabbed him. My, the Sun was angry! The big Snake begged, and promised never to speak to the Moon again, but the Sun had him; and he smashed him into thousands of little pieces, all of different colors from the different parts of his painted body. The little pieces each turned into a little snake, just as you see them now, but they were all too small for the Moon to notice after that. That is how so many Snakes came into the world; and that is why they are all small, nowadays. "Our people do not like the Snake-people very well, but we know that they were made to do something on this world, and that they do it, or they wouldn't live here. 162 INDIAN WHY STORIES "That was a short story, but to-morrow night I will tell you why the Deer-people have no gall on their livers; and why the Antelope- people do not wear dew-claws, for you should know that there are no other animals with cloven hoofs that are like them in this. "I am tired to-night, and I will ask that you go to your lodges, that I may sleep, for I am getting old. Ho!" 163 WHY THE DEER HAS NO GALL WHY THE DEER HAS NO GALL T3 RIGHT and early the next morning the ^-^ children were playing on the bank of **The River That Scolds the Other," when Fine Bow said: "Let us find a Deer's foot, and the foot of an Antelope and look at them, for to-night grandfather will tell us why the Deer has the dew-claws, and why the Antelope has none." "Yes, and let us ask mother if the Deer has no gall on its liver. Maybe she can show both the liver of a Deer and that of an Antelope; then we can see for ourselves," said Blue- bird. So they began to look about where the hides had been grained for tanning; and sure enough, there were the feet of both the antelope and the deer. On the deer's feet, or legs, they 167 INDIAN WHY STORIES found the dew-claws, but on the antelope there were none. This made them all anxious to know why these animals, so nearly alike, should differ in this way. Bluebird's mother passed the children on her way to the river for water, and the little girl asked: "Say, mother, does the Deer have gall on his liver?" "No, my child, but the Antelope does; and your grandfather will tell you why if you ask him." That night in the lodge War Eagle placed before his grandchildren the leg of a deer and the leg of an antelope, as well as the liver of a deer and the liver of an antelope. "See for yourselves that this thing is true, before I tell you why it is so, and how it hap- pened." "We see," they replied, "and to-day we found that these strange things are true, but we don't know why, grandfather." "Of course you don't know why. Nobody 168 INDIAN WHY STORIES knows that until he is told, and now I shall tell you, so you will always know, and tell your children, that they, too, may know. **It was long, long ago, of course. All these things happened long ago when the world was young, as you are now. It was on a summer morning, and the Deer was travelling across the plains country to reach the mountains on the far-off side, where he had relatives. He grew thirsty, for it was very warm, and stopped to drink from a water-hole on the plains. When he had finished drinking he looked up, and there was his own cousin, the Antelope, drinking near him. '"Good morning, cousin,' said the Deer. * It is a warm morning and water tastes good, doesn't it?' ***Yes,' replied the Antelope, *it is warm to-day, but I can beat you running, just the same.' "* Ha-ha!' laughed the Deer — * you beat me running? Why, you can't run half as fast as 169 INDIAN WHY STORIES I can, but if you want to run a race let us bet something. What shall it be ? ' *"I will bet you my gall-sack,' replied the Antelope. "'Good,' said the Deer, 'but let us run to- ward that range of mountains, for I am going that way, anyhow, to see my relations.' "'All right,' said the Antelope. 'All ready, and here we go.' "Away they ran toward the far-off range. All the way the Antelope was far ahead of the Deer; and just at the foot of the mountains he stopped to wait for him to catch up. "Both were out of breath from running, but both declared they had done their best, and the Deer, being beaten, gave the Antelope his sack of gall. "'This ground is too flat for me,' said the Deer. 'Come up the hillside where the gulches cut the country, and rocks are in our way, and I will show you how to run. I can't run on flat ground. It 's too easy for me.' 170 INDIAN WHY STORIES "*A11 right,' replied the Antelope, *I will run another race with you on your own ground, and I think I can beat you there, too.' "Together they climbed the hill until they reached a rough country, when the Deer said: "'This is my kind of country. Let us run a race here. Whoever gets ahead and stays there, must keep on running until the other calls on him to stop.' "'That suits me,' replied the Antelope, 'but what shall we bet this time? I don't want to waste my breath for nothing. I '11 tell you — let us bet our dew-claws.' "'Good. I '11 bet you my dew-claws against your own, that I can beat you again. Are you all ready ? — Go ! ' "Away they went over logs, over stones and across great gulches that cut the hills in two. On and on they ran, with the Deer far ahead of the Antelope. Both were getting tired, when the Antelope called: 171 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'Hi, there — you ! Stop, you can beat me. I give up.' **So the Deer stopped and waited until the Antelope came up to him, and they both laughed over the fun, but the Antelope had to give the Deer his dew-claws, and now he goes without himself. The Deer wears dew-claws and always wil-, '^ecause of that race, but on his liver there is no gall, while the Antelope carries a gall- sack like the other animals with cloven hoofs. "That is all of that story, but it is too late to tell you another to-night. If you will come to-morrow evening, I will tell you of some trouble that 0ld-m3.n got into once. He deserved it, for he was wicked, as you shall see. Ho!" 172 ,^%^^ WHY THE INDIANS WHIP THE BUFFALO-BERRIES FROM THE BUSHES WHY THE INDIANS WHIP THE BUFFALO-BERRIES FROM THE BUSHES 'T^HE Indian believes that all things live -■- again; that all were created by one and the same power; that nothing was created in vain; and that in the life beyond the grave he will know all things that he knew here. In that other world he expects to make his living easier, and not suffer from hunger or cold; therefore, all things that die must go to his heaven, in order that he may be supplied with the necessities of life. The sun is not the Indian's God, but a per- sonification of the Deity; His greatest mani- festation; His light. The Indian believes that to each of His crea- tions God gave some peculiar power, and that 175 INDIAN WHY STORIES the possessors of these special favors are His lieutenants and keepers of the several special attributes; such as wisdom, cunning, speed, and the knowledge of healing wounds. These wonderful gifts, he knew, were bestowed as favors by a common God, and therefore he re- vered these powers, and, without jealousy, paid tribute thereto. The bear was great in war, because before the horse came, he would sometimes charge the camps and kill or wound many people. Al- though many arrows were sent into his huge carcass, he seldom died. Hence the Indian was sure that the bear could heal his wounds. That the bear possessed a great knowledge of roots and berries, the Indian knew, for he often saw him digging the one and stripping the oth- ers from the bushes. The buffalo, the beaver, the wolf, and the eagle — each possessed strange powers that commanded the Indian's admira- tion and respect, as did many other things in creation. 176 INDIAN WHY STORIES If about to go to war, the Indian did not ask his God for aid — oh, no. He reaUzed that God made his enemy, too; and that if He de- sired that enemy's destruction, it would be ac- complished without man's aid. So the Indian sang his song to the bear, prayed to the bear, and thus invoked aid from a brute, and not his God, when he sought to destroy his fellows. Whenever the Indian addressed the Great God, his prayer was for life, and life alone. He is the most religious man I have ever known, as well as the most superstitious; and there are stories dealing with his religious faith that are startling, indeed. **It is the wrong time of year to talk about berries," said War Eagle, that night in the lodge, "but I shall tell you why your mothers whip the buffalo-berries from the bushes. Old- man was the one who started it, and our people have followed his example ever since. Ho! 0/^-man made a fool of himself that day. "It was the time when buffalo-berries are 177 INDIAN WHY STORIES red and ripe. All of the bushes along the rivers were loaded with them, and our people were about to gather what they needed, when Old- man changed things, as far as the gathering was concerned. "He was travelling along a river, and hungry, as he always was. Standing on the bank of that river, he saw great clusters of red, ripe buffalo-berries in the water. They were larger than any berries he had ever seen, and he said: " * I guess I will get those berries. They look fine, and I need them. Besides, some of the people will see them and get them, if I don't.' "He jumped into the water; looked for the berries; but they were not there. For a time OW-man stood in the river and looked for the berries, but they were gone. "After a while he climbed out on the bank again, and when the water got smooth once more there were the berries — the same berries, in the same spot in the water. 178 INDIAN WHY STORIES "*Ho! — that is a funny thing. I wonder where they hid that time. I must have those berries ! * he said to himself. " In he went again — splashing the water like a Grizzly Bear. He looked about him and the berries were gone again. The water was rip- pling about him, but there were no berries at all. He felt on the bottom of the river but they were not there. ***Well/ he said, *I will climb out and watch to see where they come from; then I shall grab them when I hit the water next time.' "He did that; but he couldn't tell where the berries came from. As soon as the water settled and became smooth — there were the berries — the same as before. Ho ! — Old-ma.n was wild; he was angry, I tell you. And in he went flat on his stomach ! He made an awful splash and mussed the water greatly; but there were no berries. "*I know what I shall do. I will stay right 179 INDIAN WHY STORIES here and wait for those berries; that is what I shall do'; and he did. "He thought maybe somebody was looking at him and would laugh, so he glanced along the bank. And there, right over the water, he saw the same bunch of berries on some tall bushes. Don't you see? Old-rmn saw the shadow of the berry-bunch; not the berries. He saw the red shadow-berries on the water; that was all, and he was such a fool he didn't know they were not real. "Well, now he was angry in truth. Now he was ready for war. He climbed out on the bank again and cut a club. Then he went at the buffalo-berry bushes and pounded them till all of the red berries fell upon the ground — till the branches were bare of berries. "'There,' he said, 'that's what you get for making a fool of the man who made you. You shall be beaten every year as long as you live, to pay for what you have done; you and your children, too.' 180 INDIAN WHY STORIES "That is how it all came about, and that is why your mothers whip the buffalo-berry bushes and then pick the berries from the ground. Ho!" 181 OLD-MAN AND THE FOX ^^^ '\ OLD-MAN AND THE FOX I AM sure that the plains Indian never made nor used the stone arrow-head. I have heard white men say that they had seen In- dians use them; but I have never found an In- dian that ever used them himself, or knew of their having been used by his people. Thirty years ago I knew Indians, intimately, who were nearly a hundred years old, who told me that the stone arrow-head had never been in use in their day, nor had their fathers used them in their own time. Indians find these arrow- points just as they find the stone mauls and hammers, which I have seen them use thou- sands of times, but they do not make them any more than they make the stone mauls and hammers. In the old days, both the head of the lance and the point of the arrow were of bone; even knives were of bone, but some other 185 INDIAN WHY STORIES people surely made the arrow-points that are scattered throughout the United States and Europe, I am told. One night I asked War Eagle if he had ever known the use, by Indians, of the stone arrow- head, and he said he had not. He told me that just across the Canadian line there was a small lake, surrounded by trees, wherein there was an island covered with long reeds and grass. All about the edge of this island were willows that grew nearly to the water, but intervening there was a narrow beach of stones. Here, he said, the stone arrow-heads had been made by little ghost-people who lived there, and he assured me that he had often seen these strange little beings when he was a small boy. Whenever his people were camped by this lake the old folks waked the children at daybreak to see the inhabitants of this strange island; and always when a noise was made, or the sun came up, the little people hid away. Often he had seen their heads above the grass and tiny willows, 186 INDIAN WHY STORIES and his grandfather had told him that all the stone arrow-heads had been made on that island, and in war had been shot all over the world, by magic bows. "No," he said, "I shall not lie to you, my friend. I never saw those little people shoot an arrow, but there are so many arrows there, and so many pieces of broken ones, that it proves that my grandfather was right in what he told me. Besides, nobody could ever sleep on that island." I have heard a legend wherein 0ld-m3.n, in the beginning, killed an animal for the people to eat, and then instructed them to use the ribs of the dead brute to make knives and arrow- points. I have seen lance-heads, made from shank bones, that were so highly polished that they resembled pearl, and I have in my posses- sion bone arrow-points such as were used long ago. Indians do not readily forget their tribal history, and I have photographed a war-bonnet, made of twisted buffalo hair, that was manu- 187 INDIAN WHY STORIES factured before the present owner's people had, or ever saw, the horse. The owner of this bonnet has told me that the stone arrow-head was never used by Indians, and that he knew that ghost-people made and used them when the world was young. The bow of the plains Indian was from thirty- six to forty-four inches long, and made from the wood of the choke-cherry tree. Sometimes bows were made from the service (or sarvice) berry bush, and this bush furnished the best material for arrows. I have seen hickory bows among the plains Indians, too, and these were longer and always straight, instead of being fashioned like Cupid's weapon. These hickory bows came from the East, of course, and through trading, reached the plains country. I have also seen bows covered with the skins of the bull-snake, or wound with sinew, and bows have been made from the horns of the elk, in the early days, after a long course of prepara- tion. 188 INDIAN WHY STORIES Before Lewis and Clark crossed this vast country, the Blackfeet had traded with the Hudson Bay Company, and steel knives and lance-heads, bearing the names of English makers, still remain to testify to the relations existing, in those days, between those famous traders and men of the Piegan, Blood, and Blackfoot tribes, although it took many years for traders on our own side of the line to gain their friendship. Indeed, trappers and traders blamed the Hudson Bay Company for the feel- ing of hatred held by the three tribes of Black- feet for the "Americans"; and there is no doubt that they were right to some extent, although the killing of the Blackfoot warrior by Captain Lewis in 1805 may have been largely to blame for the trouble. Certain it is that for many years after the killing, the Blackfeet kept traders and trappers on the dodge unless they were Hudson Bay men, and in 1810 drove the "American" trappers and traders from their fort at Three-Forks. 189 INDIAN WHY STORIES It was early when we gathered in War Eagle's lodge, the children and I, but the story- telling began at once. "Now I shall tell you a story that will show you how little Old-man cared for the welfare of others," said War Eagle. "It happened in the fall, this thing I shall tell you, and the day was warm and bright. Old-man and his brother the Red Fox were trav- elling together for company. They were on a hillside when 0/^-Man said: *I am hungry. Can you not kill a Rabbit or something for us to eat? The way is long, and I am getting old, you know. You are swift of foot and cunning, and there are Rabbits among these rocks.' "'Ever since morning came I have watched for food, but the moon must be wrong or some- thing, for I see nothing that is good to eat,' replied the Fox. 'Besides that, my medicine is bad and my heart is weak. You are great, and I have heard you can do most anything. Many 190 INDIAN WHY STORIES snows have known your footprints, and the snows make us all wise. I think you are the one to help, not 1/ '** Listen, brother,' said Old-man, *l have neither bow nor lance — nothing to use in hunt- ing. Your weapons are ever with you — your great nose and your sharp teeth. Just as we came up this hill I saw two great Buffalo-Bulls. You were not looking, but I saw them, and if you will do as I want you to we shall have plenty of meat. This is my scheme; I shall pull out all of your hair, leaving your body white and smooth, like that of the fish. I shall leave only the white hair that grows on the tip of your tail, and that will make you funny to look at. Then you are to go before the Bulls and commence to dance and act foolish. Of course the Bulls will laugh at you, and as soon as they get to laughing you must act sillier than ever. That will make them laugh so hard that they will fall down and laugh on the ground. When they fall, I shall come upon 191 INDIAN WHY STORIES them with my knife and kill them. Will you do as I suggest, brother, or will you starve?' "'What! Pull out my hair? I shall freeze with no hair on my body, Old-man. No — I will not suffer you to pull my hair out when the winter is so near,' cried the Fox. *"Ho! It is vanity, my brother, not fear of freezing. If you will do this we shall have meat for the winter, and a fire to keep us warm. See, the wind is in the south and warm. There is no danger of freezing. Come, let me do it,' replied Old-rmn. '''Well — if you are sure that I won't freeze, all right,' said the Fox, 'but I'll bet I'll be sorry.' "So OW-man pulled out all of the Fox's hair, leaving only the white tip that grew near the end of his tail. Poor little Red Fox shivered in the warm breeze that Old-man told about, and kept telling Old-man that the hair-pulling hurt badly. Finally 0/^-man finished the job and laughed at the Fox, saying : ' Why, you make 192 INDIAN WHY STORIES me laugh, too. Now go and dance before the Bulls, and I shall watch and be ready for my part of the scheme.' ** Around the hill went the poor Red Fox and found the Bulls. Then he began to dance be- fore them as OW-man had told him. The Bulls took one look at the hairless Fox and began to laugh. My! How they did laugh, and then the Red Fox stood upon his hind legs and danced some more; acted sillier, as 0/^-man had told him. Louder and louder laughed the Bulls, until they fell to the ground with their breath short from the laughing. The Red Fox kept at his antics lest the Bulls get up before Old-man reached them; but soon he saw him coming, with a knife in his hand. "Running up to the Bulls, 0/fif-man plunged his knife into their hearts, and they died. Into the ground ran their blood, and then Old- man laughed and said: 'Ho, I am the smart one. I am the real hunter. I depend on my head for meat — ha ! — ha ! — ha ! ' 193 INDIAN WHY STORIES '*Then Old-man began to dress and skin the Bulls, and he worked hard and long. In fact it was nearly night when he got the work all done. "Poor little Red Fox had stood there all the time, and 0ld-m3.n never noticed that the wind had changed and was coming from the north. Yes, poor Red Fox stood there and spoke no word; said nothing at all, even when Old-man had finished. '"Hi, there, you! what's the matter with you ? Are you sorry that we have meat ? Say, answer me ! ' **But the Red Fox was frozen stiff — was dead. Yes, the north wind had killed him while 0/^-man worked at the skinning. The Fox had been caught by the north wind naked, and was dead. 0/^-man built a fire and warmed his hands; that was all he cared for the Red Fox, and that is all he cared for anybody. He might have known that no person could stand the north wind without a robe; but as long 194 INDIAN WHY STORIES as he was warm himself — that was all he wanted. "That is all of that story. To-morrow night I shall tell you why the birch-tree wears those slashes in its bark. That was some of Old- man's work, too. Ho!" 195 WHY THE BIRCH-TREE WEARS THE SLASHES IN ITS BARK WHY THE BIRCH-TREE WEARS THE SLASHES IN ITS BARK THE white man has never understood the Indian, and the example set the Western tribes of the plains by our white brethren has not been such as to inspire the red man with either confidence or respect for our laws or our religion. The fighting trapper, the border ban- dit, the horse-thief and rustler, in whose stomach legitimately acquired beef would cause colic — were the Indians' first acquaintances who wore a white skin, and he did not know that they were not of the best type. Being outlaws in every sense, these men sought shelter from the Indian in the wilderness; and he learned of their ways about his lodge-fire, or in battle, often provoked by the white ruffian in the hope of gain. They lied to the Indian — these first white acquaintances, and in after-years, the 199 INDIAN WHY STORIES great Government of the United States lied and lied again, until he has come to believe that there is no truth in the white man's heart. And I don't blame him. The Indian is a charitable man. I don't be- lieve he ever refused food and shelter or abused a visitor. He has never been a bigot, and con- cedes to every other man the right to his own beliefs. Further than that, the Indian believes that every man's religion and belief is right and proper for that man's self. It was blowing a gale and snow was being driven in fine flakes across the plains when we went to the lodge for a story. Every minute the weather was growing colder, and an early fall storm of severity was upon us. The wind seemed to add to the good nature of our host as he filled and passed me the pipe. "This is the night I was to tell you about the Birch-Tree, and the wind will help to make you understand," said War Eagle after we had finished smoking. 200 INDIAN WHY STORIES "Of course," he continued, "this all happened in the summer-time when the weather was warm, very warm. Sometimes, you know, there are great winds in the summer, too. "It was a hot day, and Old-mdni was trying to sleep, but the heat made him sick. He wan- dered to a hilltop for air; but there was no air. Then he went down to the river and found no relief. He travelled to the timber- lands, and there the heat was great, although he found plenty of shade. The travelling made him warmer, of course, but he wouldn't stay still. "By and by he called to the winds to blow, and they commenced. First they didn't blow very hard, because they were afraid they might make 0ld-m3.n angry, but he kept crying: " * Blow harder — harder — harder ! Blow worse than ever you blew before, and send this heat away from the world.' "So, of course, the winds did blow harder — harder than they ever had blown before. 201 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'Bend and break, Fir-Tree!' cried Old-man, and the Fir-Tree did bend and break. 'Bend and break, Pine-Tree ! ' and the Pine-Tree did bend and break. 'Bend and break, Spruce- Tree !' and the Spruce-Tree did bend and break. 'Bend and break, O Birch-Tree!' and the Birch-Tree did bend, but it wouldn't break — no, sir ! — it wouldn't break ! "'Ho! Birch-Tree, won't you mind me? Bend and break ! I tell you,' but all the Birch- Tree would do was to bend. "It bent to the ground; it bent double to please Old-man, but it would not break. "'Blow harder, wind!' cried Old-man, 'blow harder and break the Birch-Tree.' The wind tried to blow harder, but it couldn't, and that made the thing worse, because Old-man was so angry he went crazy. 'Break! I tell you — break ! ' screamed 0/^-man to the Birch-Tree. "'I won't break,' replied the Birch; 'I shall never break for any wind. I will bend, but I shall never, never break.' 202 INDIAN WHY STORIES "*You won't, hey?* cried Old-ma.n, and he rushed at the Birch-Tree with his hunting-knife. He grabbed the top of the Birch because it was touching the ground, and began slashing the bark of the Birch-Tree with the knife. All up and down the trunk of the tree Old-rmn slashed, until the Birch was covered with the knife slashes. "'There! that is for not minding me. That will do you good ! As long as time lasts you shall always look like that, Birch-Tree; always be marked as one who will not mind its maker. Yes, and all the Birch-Trees in the world shall have the same marks forever.' They do, too. You have seen them and have wondered why the Birch-Tree is so queerly marked. Now you know. "That is all — Ho!" 203 ^irmf^if/^lfi'i'''' MISTAKES OF OLi)-MAN MISTAKES OF OLD-MAN \ LL night the storm raged, and in the -^ ^ morning the plains were white with snow. The sun came and the light was blinding, but the hunters were abroad early, as usual. That day the children came to my camp, and I told them several stories that appeal to white children. They were deeply interested, and asked many questions. Not until the hunters returned did my visitors leave. That night War Eagle told us of the mistakes of OW-man. He said: ''Old-man made a great many mistakes in making things in the world, but he worked un- til he had everything good. I told you at the beginning that 0ld-m3.n made mistakes, but I didn't tell you what they were, so now I shall tell you. 207 INDIAN WHY STORIES "One of the things he did that was wrong, was to make the Big-Hom to Uve on the plains. Yes, he made him on the plains and turned him loose, to make his living there. Of course the Big-Hom couldn't run on the plains, and Old- man wondered what was wrong. Finally, he said : * Come here, Big-Horn ! ' and the Big- Hom came to him. 0/^-man stuck his arm through the circle his homs made, and dragged the Big-Hom far up into the mountains. There he set him free again, and sat down to watch him. Ho! It made Old-msM dizzy to watch the Big-Horn mn about on the ragged cliffs. He saw at once that this was the country the Big-Hom liked, and he left him there. Yes, he left him there forever, and there he stays, seldom coming down to the lower country. ''While 0/^-man was waiting to see what the Big-Horn would do in the high mountains, he made an Antelope and set him free with the Big-Horn. Ho! But the Antelope stumbled and fell down among the rocks. He couldn't 208 INDIAN WHY STORIES run at all; could hardly stand up. So Old- man called to the Antelope to come back to him, and the Antelope did come to him. Then he called to the Big-Horn, and said: "'You are all right, I guess, but this one isn't, and I '11 have to take-him somewhere else.' "He dragged the Antelope down to the prairie country, and set him free there. Then he watched him a minute; that was as long as the Antelope was in sight, for he was afraid OW-man might take him back to the mountains. "He said: *I guess that fellow was made for the plains, all right, so I '11 leave him there ' ; and he did. That is why the Antelope always stays on the plains, even to-day. He likes it better. "That wasn't a very long story; sometime when you get older I will tell you some dif- ferent stories, but that will be all for this time, I guess. Ho!'* 209 HOW THE MAN FOUND HIS MATE I HOW THE MAN FOUND HIS MATE EACH tribe has its own stories. Most of them deal with the same subjects, differing only in immaterial particulars. Instead of squirrels in the timber, the Black- feet are sure they were prairie-dogs that Old- man roasted that time when he made the mountain-lion long and lean. The Chippewas and Crees insist that they were squirrels that were cooked and eaten, but one tribe is essen- tially a forest-people and the other lives on the plains — hence the difference. Some tribes will not wear the feathers of the owl, nor will they have anything to do with that bird, while others use his feathers freely. The forest Indian wears the soft-soled moc- casin, while his brother of the plains covers the bottoms of his footwear with rawhide, because of the cactus and prickly-pear, most likely. 213 INDIAN WHY STORIES The door of the lodge of the forest Indian reaches to the ground, but the plains Indian makes his lodge skin to reach all about the cir- cle at the bottom, because of the wind. One night in War Eagle's lodge. Other- person asked: **Why don't the Bear have a tail, grandfather?" War Eagle laughed and said: "Our people do not know why, but we believe he was made that way at the beginning, although I have heard men of other tribes say that the Bear lost his tail while fishing. " I don't know how true it is, but I have been told that a long time ago the Bear was fishing in the winter, and the Fox asked him if he had any luck. "'No,' replied the Bear, *I can't catch a fish.' "'Well,' said the Fox, 'if you will stick your long tail down through this hole in the ice, and sit very still, I am sure you will catch a fish/ 214 INDIAN WHY STORIES "So the Bear stuck his tail through the hole in the ice, and the Fox told him to sit still, till he called him; then the Fox went off, pretending to hunt along the bank. It was mighty cold weather, and the water froze all about the Bear's tail, yet he sat still, waiting for the Fox to call him. Yes, the Bear sat so still and so long that his tail was frozen in the ice, but he didn't know it. When the Fox thought it was time, he called: ***Hey, Bear, come here quick — quick! I have a Rabbit in this hole, and I want you to help me dig him out.' Ho! The Bear tried to get up, but he couldn't. "'Hey, Bear, come here — there are two Rabbits in this hole,' called the Fox. "The Bear pulled so hard to get away from the ice, that he broke his tail off short to his body. Then the Fox ran away laughing at the Bear. "I hardly believe that story, but once I heard an old man who visited my father from 215 INDIAN WHY STORIES the country far east of here, tell it. I remem- bered it. But I can't say that I know it is true, as I can the others. "When I told you the story of how OW-man made the world over, after the water had made its war upon it, I told you how the first man and woman were made. There is another story of how the first man found his wife, and I will tell you that.-— — «* \/* After Old-man had made a man to look like himself, he left him to live with the Wolves, and went away. The man had a hard time of it, with no clothes to keep him warm, and no wife to help him, so he went out looking for Old-man. "It took the man a long time to find Old- man's lodge, but as soon as he got there he went right in and said: "*0/^-man, you have made me and left me to live with the Wolf-people. I don't like them at all. They give me scraps of meat to eat and won't build a fire. They have wives, 216 "He went up on ihe sleep hillside and commenced to roll big rocks down upon her lodge" INDIAN WHY STORIES but I don't want a Wolf-woman. I think you should take better care of me.' "'Well,' replied Old-man, *I was just waiting for you to come to see me. I have things fixed for you. You go down this river until you come to a steep hillside. There you will see a lodge. Then I will leave you to do the rest. Go!' "The man started and travelled all that day. When night came he camped and ate some berries that grew near the river. The next morning he started down the river again, looking for the steep hillside and the lodge. Just before sundown, the man saw a fine lodge near a steep hillside, and he knew that was the lodge he was looking for; so he crossed the river and went into the lodge. "Sitting by the fire inside, was a woman. She was dressed in buckskin clothes, and was cooking some meat that smelled good to the man, but when she saw him without any clothes, she pushed him out of the lodge, and dropped the door. 217 INDIAN WHY STORIES "Things didn't look very good to that man, I tell you, but to get even with the woman, he went up on the steep hillside and commenced to roll big rocks down upon her lodge. He kept this up until one of the largest rocks knocked down the lodge, and the woman ran out, cry- ing. "When the man heard the woman crying, it made him sorry and he ran down the hill to her. She sat down on the ground, and the man ran to where she was and said: "*I am sorry I made you cry, woman. I will help you fix your lodge. I will stay with you, if you will only let me.' "That pleased the woman, and she showed the man how to fix up the lodge and gather some wood for the fire. Then she let him come inside and eat. Finally, she made him some clothes, and they got along very well, after that. "That is how the man found his wife — Ho !" 218 DREAMS DREAMS AS soon as manhood is attained, the young Indian must secure his "charm," or "medi- cine." After a sweat-bath, he retires to some lonely spot, and there, for four days and nights, if necessary, he remains in solitude. During this time he eats nothing; drinks nothing; but spends his time invoking the Great Mystery for the boon of a long life. In this state of mind, he at last sleeps, perhaps dreams. If a dream does not come to him, he abandons the task for a time, and later on will take another sweat- bath and try again. Sometimes dangerous cliffs, or other equally uncomfortable places, are selected for dreaming, because the surround- ing terrors impress themselves upon the mind, and even in slumber add to the vividness of dreams. 221 INDIAN WHY STORIES At last the dream comes, and in it some bird or animal appears as a helper to the dreamer, in trouble. Then he seeks that bird or animal; kills a specimen; and if a bird, he stuffs its skin with moss and forever keeps it near him. If an animal, instead of a bird, appears in the dream, the Indian takes his hide, claws, or teeth; and throughout his life never leaves it behind him, unless in another dream a greater charm is offered. If this happens, he discards the old "medicine " for the new; but such cases are rare. Sometimes the Indian will deck his "medi- cine-bundle" with fanciful trinkets and quill- work. At other times the "bundle" is kept forever out of the sight of all uninterested per- sons, and is altogether unadorned. But "medi- cine" is necessary; without it, the Indian is afraid of his shadow. An old chief, who had been in many battles, once told me his great dream, withholding the name of the animal or bird that appeared therein and became his "medicine." 222 INDIAN WHY STORIES He said that when he was a boy of twelve years, his father, who was chief of his tribe, told him that it was time that he tried to dream. After his sweat-bath, the boy followed his father without speaking, because the postulant must not converse or associate with other humans between the taking of the bath and the finished attempt to dream. On and on into the dark forest the father led, followed by the naked boy, till at last the father stopped on a high hill, at the foot of a giant pine-tree. By signs the father told the boy to climb the tree and to get into an eagle's nest that was on the topmost boughs. Then the old man went away, in order that the boy might reach the nest without coming too close to his human conductor. Obediently the boy climbed the tree and sat upon the eagle's nest on the top. "I could see very far from that nest," he told me. "The day was warm and I hoped to dream that night, but the wind rocked the tree top, and the 223 INDIAN WHY STORIES darkness made me so much afraid that I did not sleep. "On the fourth night there came a terrible thunder-storm, with lightning and much wind. The great pine groaned and shook until I was sure it must fall. All about it, equally strong trees went down with loud crashings, and in the dark there were many awful sounds — sounds that I sometimes hear yet. Rain came, and I grew cold and more afraid. I had eaten noth- ing, of course, and I was weak — so weak and tired, that at last I slept, in the nest. I dreamed ; yes, it was a wonderful dream that came to me, and it has most all come to pass. Part is yet to come. But come it surely will. "First I saw my own people in three wars. Then I saw the Buffalo disappear in a hole in the ground, followed by many of my people. Then I saw the whole world at war, and many flags of white men were in this land of ours. It was a terrible war, and the fighting and the blood made me sick in my dream. Then, last of all, 224 INDIAN WHY STORIES I saw a * person ' coming — coming across what seemed the plains. There were deep shadows all about him as he approached. This 'person' kept beckoning me to come to him, and at last I did go to him. '"Do you know who I am,' he asked me. "'No, "person," I do not know you. Who are you, and where is your country?' "'If you will Hsten to me, boy, you shall be a great chief and your people shall love you. If you do not listen, then I shall turn against you. My name is "Reason."' "As the 'person' spoke this last, he struck the ground with a stick he carried, and the blow set the grass afire. I have always tried to know that 'person.' I think I know him wherever he may be, and in any camp. He has helped me all my life, and I shall never turn against him — never." That was the old chief's dream and now a word about the sweat-bath. A small lodge is made of willows, by bending them and sticking 225 INDIAN WHY STORIES the ends in the ground. A completed sweat- lodge is shaped like an inverted bowl, and in the centre is a small hole in the ground. The lodge is covered with robes, bark, and dirt, or anything that will make it reasonably tight. Then a fire is built outside and near the sweat- lodge, in which stones are heated. When the stones are ready, the bather crawls inside the sweat-lodge, and an assistant rolls the hot stones from the fire, and into the lodge. They are then rolled into the hole in the lodge and sprinkled with water. One cannot imagine a hotter vapor bath than this system produces, and when the bather has satisfied himself inside, he darts from the sweat-lodge into the river, winter or summer. This treatment killed thou- sands of Indians when the smallpox was brought to them from Saint Louis, in the early days. That night in the lodge War Eagle told a queer yam. I shall modify it somewhat, but in our own sacred history there is a similar tale, well known to all. He said: 226 INDIAN WHY STORIES "Once, a long time ago, two 'thunders' were travelling in the air. They came over a vil- lage of our people, and there stopped to look about. "In this village there was one fine, painted lodge, and in it there was an old man, an aged woman, and a beautiful young woman with wonderful hair. Of course the 'thunders' could look through the lodge skin and see all that was inside. One of them said to the other: 'Let us marry that young woman, and never tell her about it.' '"All right,' replied the other 'thunder.' 'I am willing, for she is the finest young woman in all the village. She is good in her heart, and she is honest.' "So they married her, without telling her about it, and she became the mother of twin boys. When these boys were bom, they sat up and told their mother and the other people that they were not people, but were 'thunders,' and that they would grow up quickly. 227 INDIAN WHY STORIES "'When we shall have been on earth a while, we shall marry, and stay until we each have four sons of our own, then we shall go away and again become "thunders,"* they said. ** It all came to pass, just as they said it would. When they had married good women and each had four sons, they told the people one day that it was time for them to go away for- ever. "There was much sorrow among the people, for the twins were good men and taught many good things which we have never forgotten, but everybody knew it had to be as they said. While they lived with us, these twins could heal the sick and tell just what was going to happen on earth. "One day at noon the twins dressed them- selves in their finest clothes and went out to a park in the forest. All the people followed them and saw them lie down on the ground in the park. The people stayed in the timber that grew about the edge of the park, and 228 INDIAN WHY STORIES watched them until clouds and mists gathered about and hid them from view. "It thundered loudly and the winds blew; trees fell down; and when the mists and clouds cleared away, they were gone — gone forever. But the people have never forgotten them, and my grandfather, who is in the ground near Rocker, was a descendant from one of the sons of the 'thunders.' Ho!" 229 RETROSPECTION 8 s^-Si RETROSPECTION IT was evening in the bad-lands, and the red sun had slipped behind the far-off hills. The sundown breeze bent the grasses in the coulees, and curled tiny dust-clouds on the barren knolls. Down in a gulch a clear, cool creek dallied its way toward the Missouri, where its water, bitter as gall, would be lost in the great stream. Here, where Nature forbids man to work his will, and where the she wolf dens and kills to feed her litter, an aged Indian stood near the scattered bones of two great buffalo-bulls. Time had bleached the skulls and whitened the old warrior's hair, but in the solitude he spoke to the bones as to a boyhood friend : "Ho! Buffalo, the years are long since you died, and your tribe, like mine, was even then 233 INDIAN WHY STORIES shrinking fast, but you did not know it; would not believe it; though the signs did not lie. My father and his father knew your people, and when one night you went away, we thought you did but hide and would soon come back. The snows have come and gone many times since then, and still your people stay away. The young-men say that the great herds have gone to the Sand Hills, and that my father still has meat. They have told me that the white man, in his greed, has killed — and not for meat — all the Buffalo that our people knew. They have said that the great herds that made the ground tremble as they ran were slain in a few short years by those who needed not. Can this be true, when ever since there was a world, our people killed your kind, and still left herds that grew in numbers until they often blocked the rivers when they passed? Our people killed your kind that they them- selves might live, but never did they go to war against you. Tell me, do your people hide, or 234 INDIAN WHY STORIES are the young-men speaking truth, and have your people gone with mine to Sand Hill shad- ows to come back no more?" "Ho! red man — my people all have gone. The young-men tell the truth and all my tribe have gone to feed among the shadow-hills, and your father still has meat. My people suffer from his arrows and his lance, yet there the herds increase as they did here, until the white man came and made his war upon us without cause or need. I was one of the last to die, and with my brother here fled to this forbidding country that I might hide; but one day when the snow was on the world, a white murderer followed on our trail, and with his noisy weapon sent our spirits to join the great shadow-herds. Meat? No, he took no meat, but from our quivering flesh he tore away the robes that Napa gave to make us warm, and left us for the Wolves. That night they came, and quar- relling, fighting, snapping 'mong themselves, left but our bones to greet the morning sun. 235 t INDIAN WHY STORIES These bones the Coyotes and the weaker ones did drag and scrape, and scrape again, until the last of flesh or muscle disappeared. Then the winds came and sang — and all was done." 236 VS^^ '"^V Deacidlfied using t^e Bookkeeper process. 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