A Brief Guide to Native American Myths and Legends (23 page)

BOOK: A Brief Guide to Native American Myths and Legends
12.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Another council was held, and the Illinois braves agreed that the lad possessed high courage and would make a great warrior; but others argued that he knew their war-path and might betray them, and it was finally decided that he should be burnt at the stake. As he was about to perish in this manner an aged warrior suggested that if he were able to withstand their last torture he should be permitted to live. Accordingly he held the unfortunate lad under water in a pool until only a spark of life remained in him, but he survived, and became an Illinois warrior.

Years passed, and the boy reached manhood and married a chief’s daughter. His strength and endurance became proverbial, but the warriors of the tribe of his adoption would never permit him to take part in their warlike expeditions. At length a raid against the Senecas was mooted, and he begged so hard to be allowed to accompany the braves that at last they
consented. Indeed, so great was their admiration of the skill with which he outlined a plan of campaign that they made him chief of the expedition. For many days the party marched toward the Seneca country; but when at last they neared it their scouts reported that there were no signs of the tribe, and that the Senecas must have quitted their territory. Their leader, however, proposed to go in search of the enemy himself, along with another warrior of the tribe, and this was agreed to.

When the pair had gone five or six miles the leader said to his companion that it would be better if they separated, as they would then be able to cover more ground. Passing on to where he knew he would find the Senecas, he warned them of their danger, and arranged that an ambush of his kinsfolk should lie in wait for the Illinois.

Returning to the Illinois camp, he reported that he had seen nothing, but that he well remembered the Seneca hiding-place. He asked to be given the bravest warriors, and assured the council that he would soon bring them the scalps of their foes. Suspecting nothing, they assented to his proposal, and he was followed by the flower of the Illinois tribe, all unaware that five hundred Senecas awaited them in the valley. The youth led his men right into the heart of the ambush; then, pretending to miss his footing, he fell. This was the signal for the Senecas to rise on every side. Yelling their war-cry, they rushed from their shelter and fell on the dismayed Illinois, who gave way on every side. The slaughter was immense. Vengeance nerved the arms of the Seneca braves, and of three hundred Illinois but two escaped. The leader of the expedition was borne in triumph to the Seneca village, where to listening hundreds he told the story of his capture and long-meditated revenge. He became a great chief among his people, and even to this day his name is uttered by them with honour and reverence.

The boy magician

In the heart of the wilderness there lived an old woman and her little grandson. The two found no lack of occupation from
day to day, the woman busying herself with cooking and cleaning and the boy with shooting and hunting. The grandmother frequently spoke of the time when the child would grow up and go out into the world.

‘Always go to the east,’ she would say. ‘Never go to the west, for there lies danger.’

But what the danger was she would not tell him, in spite of his importunate questioning. Other boys went west, he thought to himself, and why should not he? Nevertheless his grandmother made him promise that he would not go west.

Years passed by, and the child grew to be a man, though he still retained the curiosity and high spirits of his boyhood. His persistent inquiries drew from the old grandmother a reluctant explanation of her warning.

‘In the west,’ said she, ‘there dwells a being who is anxious to do us harm. If he sees you it will mean death for both of us.’

This statement, instead of frightening the young Indian, only strengthened in him a secret resolution he had formed to go west on the first opportunity. Not that he wished to bring any misfortune on his poor old grandmother, any more than on himself, but he trusted to his strong arm and clear head to deliver them from their enemy. So with a laugh on his lips he set off to the west.

Toward evening he came to a lake, where he rested. He had not been there long when he heard a voice saying: ‘Aha, my fine fellow, I see you!’

The youth looked all round him, and up into the sky above, but he saw no one.

‘I am going to send a hurricane,’ the mysterious voice continued, ‘to break your grandmother’s hut to pieces. How will you like that?’

‘Oh, very well,’ answered the young man gaily. ‘We are always in need of firewood, and now we shall have plenty.’

‘Go home and see,’ the voice said mockingly. ‘I daresay you will not like it so well.’

Nothing daunted, the young adventurer retraced his steps.
As he neared home a great wind sprang up, seeming to tear the very trees out by the roots.

‘Make haste!’ cried the grandmother from the doorway. ‘We shall both be killed!’

When she had drawn him inside and shut the door she scolded him heartily for his disobedience, and bewailed the fate before them. The young man soothed her fears, saying: ‘Don’t cry, grandmother. We shall turn the lodge into a rock, and so we shall be saved.’

Having some skill in magic, he did as he had said, and the hurricane passed harmlessly over their heads. When it had ceased they emerged from their retreat, and found an abundance of firewood all round them.

The hailstorm

Next day the youth was on the point of setting off toward the west once more, but the urgent entreaties of his grandmother moved him to proceed eastward – for a time. Directly he was out of sight of the lodge he turned his face once more to the west. Arrived at the lake, he heard the voice once more, though its owner was still invisible.

‘I am going to send a great hailstorm on your grandmother’s hut,’ it said. ‘What do you think of that?’

‘Oh,’ was the response, ‘I think I should like it. I have always wanted a bundle of spears.’

‘Go home and see,’ said the voice.

Away the youth went through the woods. The sky became darker and darker as he neared his home, and just as he was within a bowshot of the little hut a fierce hailstorm broke, and he thought he would be killed before he reached shelter.

‘Alas!’ cried the old woman when he was safely indoors, ‘we shall be destroyed this time. How can we save ourselves?’

Again the young man exercised his magic powers, and transformed the frail hut into a hollow rock, upon which the shafts of the hailstorm spent themselves in vain. At last the sky cleared, the lodge resumed its former shape, and the young
man saw a multitude of sharp, beautiful spear-heads on the ground.

‘I will get poles,’ said he, ‘to fit to them for fishing.’

When he returned in a few minutes with the poles he found that the spears had vanished.

‘Where are my beautiful spears?’ he asked his grandmother.

‘They were only ice-spears,’ she replied. ‘They have all melted away.’

The young Indian was greatly disappointed, and wondered how he could avenge himself on the being who had played him this malicious trick.

‘Be warned in time,’ said the aged grandmother, shaking her head at him. ‘Take my advice and leave him alone.’

The charmed stone

But the youth’s adventurous spirit impelled him to see the end of the matter, so he took a stone and tied it round his neck for a charm, and sought the lake once again. Carefully observing the direction from which the voice proceeded, he saw in the middle of the lake a huge head with a face on every side of it.

‘Aha! uncle,’ he exclaimed, ‘I see you! How would you like it if the lake dried up?’

‘Nonsense!’ said the voice angrily, ‘that will never happen.’

‘Go home and see,’ shouted the youth, mimicking the mocking tone the other had adopted on the previous occasions. As he spoke he swung his charmed stone round his head and threw it into the air. As it descended it grew larger and larger, and the moment it entered the lake the water began to boil.

The lad returned home and told his grandmother what he had done.

‘It is of no use,’ said she. ‘Many have tried to slay him, but all have perished in the attempt.’

Next morning our hero went westward again, and found the lake quite dry, and the animals in it dead, with the exception of a large green frog, who was in reality the malicious being
who had tormented the Indian and his grandmother. A quick blow with a stick put an end to the creature, and the triumphant youth bore the good news to his old grandmother, who from that time was left in peace and quietness.

The friendly skeleton

A little boy living in the woods with his old uncle was warned by him not to go eastward, but to play close to the lodge or walk toward the west. The child felt a natural curiosity to know what lay in the forbidden direction, and one day took advantage of his uncle’s absence on a hunting expedition to wander away to the east. At length he came to a large lake, on the shores of which he stopped to rest. Here he was accosted by a man, who asked him his name and where he lived.

‘Come,’ said the stranger, when he had finished questioning the boy, ‘let us see who can shoot an arrow the highest.’

This they did, and the boy’s arrow went much higher than that of his companion.

The stranger then suggested a swimming match.

‘Let us see,’ he said, ‘who can swim farthest under water without taking a breath.’

Again the boy beat his rival, who next proposed that they should sail out to an island in the middle of the lake, to see the beautiful birds that were to be found there. The child consented readily, and they embarked in a curious canoe, which was propelled by three swans harnessed to either side of it. Directly they had taken their seats the man began to sing, and the canoe moved off. In a very short time they had reached the island. Here the little Indian realized that his confidence in his new-found friend was misplaced. The stranger took all his clothes from him, put them in the canoe, and jumped in himself, saying:

‘Come, swans, let us go home.’

The obedient swans set off at a good pace, and soon left the island far behind. The boy was very angry at having been so badly used, but when it grew dark his resentment changed to
fear, and he sat down and cried with cold and misery. Suddenly he heard a husky voice close at hand, and, looking round, he saw a skeleton on the ground.

‘I am very sorry for you,’ said the skeleton in hoarse tones. ‘I will do what I can to help you. But first you must do something for me. Go and dig by that tree, and you shall find a tobacco-pouch with some tobacco in it, a pipe, and a flint.’

The boy did as he was asked, and when he had filled the pipe he lit it and placed it in the mouth of the skeleton. He saw that the latter’s body was full of mice, and that the smoke frightened them away.

‘There is a man coming tonight with three dogs,’ said the skeleton. ‘He is coming to look for you. You must make tracks all over the island, so that they may not find you, and then hide in a hollow tree.’

Again the boy obeyed his gaunt instructor, and when he was safely hidden he saw a man come ashore with three dogs. All night they hunted him, but he had made so many tracks that the dogs were confused, and at last the man departed in anger. Next day the trembling boy emerged and went to the skeleton.

‘Tonight,’ said the latter, ‘the man who brought you here is coming to drink your blood. You must dig a hole in the sand and hide. When he comes out of the canoe you must enter it. Say, “Come, swans, let us go home”, and if the man calls you do not look back.’

The lost sister

Everything fell out as the skeleton had foretold. The boy hid in the sand, and directly he saw his tormentor step ashore he jumped into the canoe, saying hastily, ‘Come, swans, let us go home.’ Then he began to sing as he had heard the man do when they first embarked. In vain the man called him back; he refused to look round. The swans carried the canoe to a cave in a high rock, where the boy found his clothes, as well as a fire and food. When he had donned his garments and satisfied
his hunger he lay down and slept. In the morning he returned to the island, where he found the tyrant quite dead. The skeleton now commanded him to sail eastward to seek for his sister, whom a fierce man had carried away. He set out eagerly on his new quest, and a three days’ journey brought him to the place where his sister was. He lost no time in finding her.

‘Come, my sister,’ said he, ‘let us flee away together.’

‘Alas! I cannot,’ answered the young woman. ‘A wicked man keeps me here. It is time for him to return home, and he would be sure to catch us. But let me hide you now, and in the morning we shall go away.’

So she dug a pit and hid her brother, though not a moment too soon, for the footsteps of her husband were heard approaching the hut. The woman had cooked a child, and this she placed before the man.

‘You have had visitors,’ he said, seeing his dogs snuffing around uneasily.

‘No,’ was the reply, ‘I have seen no one but you.’

‘I shall wait till tomorrow,’ said the man to himself. ‘Then I shall kill and eat him.’ He had already guessed that his wife had not spoken the truth. However, he said nothing more, but waited till morning, when, instead of going to a distant swamp to seek for food, as he pretended to do, he concealed himself at a short distance from the hut, and at length saw the brother and sister making for a canoe. They were hardly seated when they saw him running toward them. In his hand he bore a large hook, with which he caught the frail vessel; but the lad broke the hook with a stone, and the canoe darted out on to the lake. The man was at a loss for a moment, and could only shout incoherent threats after the pair. Then an idea occurred to him, and, lying down on the shore, he began to drink the water. This caused the canoe to rush back again, but once more the boy was equal to the occasion. Seizing the large stone with which he had broken the hook, he threw it at the man and slew him, the water at the same time rushing back into the lake. Thus the brother and sister escaped, and in three days they had
arrived at the island, where they heartily thanked their benefactor, the skeleton. He, however, had still another task for the young Indian to perform.

BOOK: A Brief Guide to Native American Myths and Legends
12.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Flame of Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier
Death in Paradise by Kate Flora
Emma by Katie Blu
Survival by Julie E. Czerneda
Learning to Ride by Erin Knightley
Matteo Ricci by Michela Fontana
The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami