Algonquin Indian Tales - Egerton R. Young
ALGONQUIN
INDIAN TALES
COLLECTED BY
EGERTON R. YOUNG
AUTHOR OF "BY CANOE AND DOG-TRAIN," "THE APOSTLE OF THE NORTH,"
"THREE BOYS IN THE WILD NORTH LAND," ETC.
[Illustration: The rabbit tells Nanahboozhoo of his troubles.]
1903
CHIEF BIG CANOE'S LETTER
GEORGINA ISLAND, LAKE SIMCOE.
REV. EGERTON R. YOUNG.
DEAR FRIEND: Your book of stories gathered from among my tribe has very
much pleased me. The reading of them brings up the days of long time ago
when I was a boy and heard our old people tell these tales in the wigwams
and at the camp fire.
I am very glad that you are in this way saving them from being forgotten,
and I am sure that many people will be glad to read them.
With best wishes,
KECHE CHEMON (Charles Big Canoe),
Chief of the Ojibways.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE
In all ages, from the remotest antiquity, the story-teller has flourished.
Evidences of his existence are to be found among the most ancient monuments
and writings in the Orient. In Egypt, Nineveh, Babylon, and other ancient
lands he flourished, and in the homes of the noblest he was ever an honored
guest.
The oldest collection of folklore stories or myths now in existence is of
East Indian origin and is preserved in the Sanskrit. The collection is
called _Hitopadesa_, and the author was Veshnoo Sarma. Of this collection,
Sir William Jones, the great Orientalist, wrote, "The fables of Veshnoo are
the most beautiful, if not the most ancient, collection of apologues in the
world." As far back as the sixth century translations were made from them.
The same love for myths and legends obtains to-day in those Oriental lands.
There, where the ancient and historic so stubbornly resist any change--in
Persia, India, China, and indeed all over that venerable East--the man who
can recite the ancient apologues or legends of the past can always secure
an audience and command the closest attention.
While the general impression is that the recital of these old myths and
legends among Oriental nations was for the mere pastime of the crowds, it
is well to bear in mind that many of them were used as a means to convey
great truths or to reprove error. Hence the recital of them was not
confined to a merely inquisitive audience that desired to be amused. We
have a good example of this in the case of the recital by Jotham, as
recorded in the book of Judges, of the legend of the gathering of the trees
for the purpose of having one of them anointed king over the rest. Of this
legend Dr. Adam Clarke, the commentator, says, "This is the oldest and,
without exception, the best fable or apologue in the world."
The despotic nature of the governments of those Oriental nations caused the
people often to use the fable or myth as an indirect way to reprove or
censure when it would not have been safe to have used a direct form of
speech. The result was that it attained a higher degree of perfection there
than among any other people. An excellent example is Nathan's reproof of
David by the recital of the fable of the poor man's ewe lamb.
The red Indians of America have justly been famous for their myths and
legends. We have never heard of a tribe that did not have a store of them.
Even the hardy Eskimo in his igloo of ice is surprisingly rich in folklore
stories. A present of a knife or some other trifle that he desires will
cause him to talk by the hour to his guest, whether he be the daring trader
or adventurous explorer, on the traditions that have come down to him. The
interchange of visits between the northern Indians and the Eskimos has
resulted in the discovery that quite a number of the myths recited in
Indian wigwams are in a measure, if not wholly, of Eskimo origin. On the
other hand, the Eskimo has not failed to utilize and incorporate into his
own rich store some that are undoubtedly of Indian origin.
For thirty years or more we have been gathering up these myths and legends.
Sometimes a brief sentence or two of one would be heard in some
wigwam--just enough to excite curiosity--then years would elapse ere the
whole story could be secured. As the tribes had no written language, and
the Indians had to depend entirely upon their memory, it is not to be
wondered at that there were, at times, great divergences in the recital of
even the most familiar of their stories. We have heard the same legend
given by several story-tellers and no two agreed in many particulars.
Others, however, were told with very slight differences.
We have adopted the course of recording what seemed to us the most natural
version and most in harmony with the instincts and characteristics of the
pure Indian. The close scientific student of Indian folklore will see that
we have softened some expressions and eliminated some details that were
non-essential. The crude Indian languages, while absolutely free from
blasphemy, cannot always be literally translated. _Verbum sat sapienti_.
The method we have adopted, in the presentation of these myths and legends
in connection with the chatter and remarks of our little ones, while
unusual, will, we trust, prove attractive and interesting. We have
endeavored to make it a book for all classes. Here are some old myths in
new settings, and here are some, we venture to think, that have never
before been seen in English dress. These will interest the student of such
subjects, while the general style of the book will, we hope, make it
attractive to young readers.
Nanahboozhoo, the personage who occupies the principal part in these myths,
is the most widely known of all those beings of supposed miraculous birth
who played such prominent parts in Indian legends. He does not seem to have
been claimed by any one particular tribe. Doubtless legends of him were
transmitted down from the time when the division of tribes had not so
extensively taken place; when perhaps the Algonquin, now so subdivided, was
one great tribe, speaking one language.
The variety of names by which he is known is accounted for by these tribal
divisions and the rapid changes which took place in the language owing to
its having no written form to maintain its unity.
What his original name was, when legends about him first began to be told,
is of course unknown. However, since the white race began to gather up and
record these Indian myths he has been known as Misha-wabus, Manabush,
Jous-ke-ha, Messou, Manabozho, Nanahboozhoo, Hiawatha, Chiabo,
Singua-sew--and even some other names have been heard. We have given him in
this volume the name of Nanahboozhoo as that was the one most frequently
used by the Indians among whom we lived or visited.
There is more unanimity about his origin, among the tribes, than about his
name. The almost universal report is that he was the son of Mudjekeewis,
the West Wind. His mother was Wenonah, the daughter of Nokomis.
The author desires very gratefully to record his indebtedness, for
assistance or hints received in the pleasant work of here clustering these
Indian folklore stories, to many friends, among them such Indian
missionaries as Revs. Peter Jones, John Sunday, Henry Steinham, Allan Salt,
and also to his Indian friends and comrades at many a camp fire and in many
a wigwam. He also wishes in this way to express his appreciation of and
indebtedness to the admirable Reports of the Smithsonian Institution. He
has there obtained verification of and fuller information concerning many
an almost forgotten legend.
In regard to a number of the finest of the photographic illustrations in
the volume the author gratefully acknowledges his obligations to the Canada
Pacific Railway Company, without whose assistance it would have been
impossible to reach many of the sublime and romantic places here portrayed;
until very recently known only to the adventurous red Indian hunter, but
now brought within the reach of any enterprising tourist.
CONTENTS
Introductory Note
CHAPTER I.
The Children Carried Off by the Indians--The Feast in
the Wigwam--Souwanas, the Story-teller--Nanahboozhoo,
the Indian Myth--How the Wolves Stole His Dinner, and
Why the Birch Tree Bark is Scarred--Why the Raccoon
has Rings on His Tail.
CHAPTER II.
The Children's Return--Indignation of Mary, the Indian
Nurse--Her Pathetic History--Her Love for the Children--The
Story of Wakonda, and of the Origin of Mosquitoes.
CHAPTER III.
More about Mary and the Children--Minnehaha Stung by
the Bees--How the Bees Got Their Stings--What Happened
to the Bears that Tried to Steal the Honey.
CHAPTER IV.
The Love Story of Wakontas--His Test of the Two
Maidens--His Choice--The Transformation of Misticoosis.
CHAPTER V.
The Startling Placard--What Happened to the Little
Runaways--The Rescue--Mary Tells Them the Legend of the
Swallows--How Some Cruel Men were Punished who Teased
an Orphan Boy.
CHAPTER VI.
Souwanas Tells of the Origin and Queer Doings of
Nanahboozhoo--How He Lost His Brother Nahpootee,
the Wolf--Why the Kingfisher Wears a White Collar.
CHAPTER VII.
The Legend of the Bad Boy--How He was Carried Away
by Annungitee, and How He was Rescued by His Mother.
CHAPTER VIII.
Happy Christmas Holidays--Indians Made Glad with
Presents--Souwanas Tells How Nanahboozhoo Stole the
Fire from the Old Magician and Gave It to the Indians.
CHAPTER IX.
Kinnesasis--How the Coyote Obtained the Fire from the
Interior of the Earth.
CHAPTER X.
The Christmas Packet--The Distribution of Gifts--A Visit
by Dog Train, at Fifty-five Below Zero--Souwanas Tells
How the Indians First Learned to Make Maple Sugar.
CHAPTER XI.
Mary Relates the Legend of the Origin of Disease--The
Queer Councils Held by the Animals Against Their Common
Enemy, Man.
CHAPTER XII.
The Naming of the Baby--A Canoe Trip--The Legend of
the Discovery of Medicine--How the Chipmunk Carried the
Good News.
CHAPTER XIII.
In the Wigwam of Souwanas--How Gray Wolf Persecuted
Waubenoo, and How He was Punished by Nanahboozhoo.
CHAPTER XIV.
The Pathetic Love Story of Waubenoo--The Treachery
of Gray Wolf--The Legend of the Whisky Jack.
CHAPTER XV.
A Novel Race: the Wolverine and the Rock--How the
Wolverine's Legs were Shortened--A Punishment for
Conceit.
CHAPTER XVI.
The Legend of the Twin Children of the Sun--How They
Rid the Earth of Some of the Great Monsters--Their Great
Battle with Nikoochis, the Giant.
CHAPTER XVII.
Souwanas Tells of the Queer Way in which Nanahboozhoo
Destroyed Mooshekinnebik, the Last of the Great Monsters.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Welcome Springtime in the Northland--How Nanahboozhoo
Killed the Great White Sea Lion, the Chief of the
Magicians--The Revenge--The Flood--Escape of Nanahboozhoo
and the Animals on the Raft--The Creation of a New World.
CHAPTER XIX.
Among the Briers and Wild Roses--Why the Roses have
Thorns--Why the Wild Rabbits are White in Winter.
CHAPTER XX.
Passing Hunters and Their Spoils--The Vain Woman--Why
the Marten has a White Spot on His Breast.
CHAPTER XXI.
Shooting Loons--Why the Loon has a Flat Back, Red
Eyes, and Such Queer Feet--Nanahboozhoo Loses His
Dinner--Origin of Lichens--Why Some Willows are Red--The
Partridge.
CHAPTER XXII.
Nanahboozhoo's Ride on the Back of the Buzzard, who
Lets Him Fall--A Short-lived Triumph--Why the Buzzard
has No Feathers on His Head or Neck.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Moonlight Trip on the Lake--The Legend of the
Orphan Boy--His Appeal to the Man in the Moon--How
He Conquered His Enemies.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Souwanas's Love for Souwanaquenapeke--How Nanahboozhoo
Cured a Little Girl Bitten by a Snake--How the Rattlesnake
got Its Rattle--The Origin of Tobacco--Nanahboozhoo
in Trouble.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Dead Moose--The Rivalry Between the Elk and the
Moose People, and Their Various Contests--The Disaster
that Befell the Latter Tribe--The Haze of the Indian
Summer.
Glossary
ILLUSTRATIONS
The rabbit tells Nanahboozhoo of his troubles
With the children cuddled around, Souwanas began
The wild and picturesque Ka-ka-be-ka Falls
They howled with rage and terror
The startling placard
While her mate stood beside her
Surrounding them were fierce Indian dogs
The beautiful reflections in the water
They tumbled the tall ghost over
Their dog trains were in constant demand
Where the fire was stolen
The coyote was too quick for them
Across a single log at a dizzy height
Which white men now call Cathedral Mountain
Their babies with them
Gave him such a terrible beating
The big rock was surely gaining on him [note: not in actual text]
Sun dance lodge of the Blood Indians
They both threw their magic sticks
He took a leap into the open mouth
He ran away west, to the great mountains
Wigwams and Indians
The Indian story-teller
Nanahboozhoo then mounted on the back of the great buzzard
With Mary and Kennedy in the birch canoe
Nanahboozhoo gave him a great push
They were excited at his coming
Algonquin Indian Tales
CHAPTER I.
The Children Carried Off by the Indians--The Feast in
the Wigwam--Souwanas, the Story-teller--Nanahboozhoo,
the Indian Myth--How the Wolves Stole His Dinner, and
Why the Birch Tree Bark is Scarred--Why the Raccoon
has Rings on His Tail.
Without even knocking at the door there noiselessly entered our northern
home two large, unhandsome Indians. They paid not the slightest attention
to the grown-up palefaces present, but in their ghostly way marched across
the room to the corner where the two little children were playing on the
floor. Quickly but gently picking them up they swung them to their
shoulders, and then, without a word of salutation or even a glance at the
parents, they noiselessly passed out of that narrow door and disappeared in
the virgin forest. They were pagan Saulteaux, by name Souwanas and Jakoos.
The Indian names by which these two children were called by the natives
were "Sagastaookemou," which means the "Sunrise Gentleman," and
"Minnehaha," "Laughing Waters."
To the wigwam of Souwanas, "South Wind," these children were being carried.
They had no fear of these big Indians, though the boy was only six years
old, and his little sister but four. They had learned to look with laughing
eyes even into the fiercest and ugliest of these red faces and had made
them their friends.
So even now, while being carried away among the dense trees, they merrily
laughed and shouted to each other. The bright patches of sunshine on the
ground, the singing birds, and the few brilliant-hued summer flowers,
brought forth their exclamations of delight, while all the time the grave,
silent Indians hurried them on deeper and deeper into the forest. Yet
carefully they guarded their precious loads, and as the antlered deer in
passing through the thick woods and under the low branches never strike
trunk or bough, so these sons of the forest glided swiftly on without
allowing any hurt to come to the children of the paleface, even if at times
the faint trail led them over slippery rocks and under low intertwining
branches.
The wigwam of Souwanas was pitched in a beautiful spot at the edge of the
great forest near the sandy, rocky eastern shore of Lake Winnipeg. This
great lake is well called The Sea, which is the meaning of its Indian name.
It is about as long as Lakes Ontario and Erie combined and in some places
is eighty miles wide.
At the entrance of the wigwam, which was made of a couple of tanned
reindeerskins, the children were carefully lifted down from the men's
shoulders and then taken into this Indian abode. Coming in suddenly from
the bright sunshine it was some time before they could see distinctly. The
door flap of deerskin had dropped like a curtain behind them. All the light
there was came in through the hole in the top, where the poles of the
wigwam crossed each other. Presently, however, they were able to see a
circle of Indian children gathered around a small fire that smoldered on
the ground in the center of the tent. It was now in the pleasant summer
time, but the fire was needed for something else than warmth, as the little
Sagastao and Minnehaha discovered before long. They were soon seated in the
circle with the red children, who, young though they were, were a wee bit
startled at seeing these little palefaces. The white children, however,
simply laughed with glee. This outward demonstration seemed very improper
to the silent red children, who were taught to refrain from expressions of
their gladness or sorrow.
The Indians had brought the white children for a characteristic reason.
They had said among themselves, "If the white father and mother love us as
they say they do we will test them by taking away their children without
asking permission." They also wished to show their own love for the
children, and so had really brought them to a children's feast.
It was perhaps as queer a tea party as you ever heard of. There was no
table on which to put the good things prepared for the feast. No plates, no
cups and saucers, no knives, no spoons, not even a chair! There were no
cakes, no tarts, no jam, no pies, not even any bread and butter!
"Well, what a feast!" you say. "Without any place to sit, or good things to
eat!" Not too fast! There were both of these. There was the lap of mother
earth, and so down on the ground, with bearskins and deerskins on it for
rugs, the children sat. Then the deerskin door was again opened and in came
Indians with birch-bark dishes, called _rogans_, in which were nicely
prepared wild ducks, rabbits, and partridges. But as they were uncooked
they could not yet be eaten by the now expectant, hungry children.
Then began the preparation of the feast. Some of the Indians added dry wood
to the fire until there was a hot, smokeless blaze. Others took out their
sharp hunting knives and cleverly cut up the ducks, rabbits, and
partridges. Then these pieces were spitted on the ends of sharp points of
hard wood and skillfully broiled or toasted in the hot flames. As fast as
the dainty bits of meat were cooked and a little cooled they were given to
the children in their fingers, and in that way the little ones had their
feast.
Now, please don't turn up your noses at such a feast. Think of it: out in a
wigwam in the lovely forest, where the wild birds sing and the squirrels
chatter, where is heard the music of the waves playing on the shore but a
few yards away, with great friendly Indians as your waiters! The very air
of that northern summer gives you an appetite ready for anything.
Those little people, red and white, soon became the jolliest of friends,
and as the white children could speak the Indian language as well as their
own they were soon all chattering away most merrily while they daintily
picked the bones. Of course this way of eating was hard upon their hands,
faces, and clothing, but what healthy child ever gave a second thought--if
a first--to any of these things?
After a time this feast, as all feasts must, came to an end. Then the
question was, "What shall we do next for the children?" for the whole day
had been planned by the grown-up Indians for the entertainment of the
little people. Canoes had been collected on the shore of Winnipeg, handy if
it should be decided that they all should go for an afternoon outing on the
water. However, Souwanas, who had gone out to look at the sky and observe
the winds and waves, now came in and reported that he thought they would
better put off the canoe trip to some time when the lake was more calm. It
was then suggested that the children be asked what would please them most.
The little folks, white and red, were not slow in giving their decision.
"Tell us a story about Nanahboozhoo."
"Who shall be the story-teller?"
There was a hearty call for "Souwanas!"
On coming in from investigating the weather, but a few minutes before,
Souwanas had seated himself on a robe and was now enjoying his calumet, or
pipe. Stoical though he was, his dark eyes flashed with pleasure at the
unanimous call of the children, but, Indianlike, it would have been a great
breach of manners if he had let his delight be known. Then, again,
Indianlike, it would never have done to have seemed to be in a hurry. The
Indian children well knew this, but who ever heard of white children that
could sit like statues, grave and dignified, while the story-teller took
time to finish smoking a large pipe of tobacco?
So it was in this case. In their wild excitement and eagerness to have the
story begin, both Sagastao and Minnehaha sprang up and, rushing toward
Souwanas, vied with each other in seeing which could first pluck the
half-smoked calumet from his mouth. Such audacity appalled the Indian
children and fairly took the breath away from the older Indians. For was
not Souwanas a chief, and the calumet almost a sacred thing while between
his lips?
Souwanas, however, was greatly delighted. Here was a new experience, and
the very boldness of the children of the palefaces was an evidence of their
unbounded confidence and love. To little Sagastao the calumet was
surrendered, and, with the children cuddled around him, Souwanas began his
story:
[Illustration: "With the children cuddled around him Souwanas began his
story."]
"Now, you must know that Nanahboozhoo was a queer fellow. He could make
himself as tall as a tree or as small as a turtle or snake. Nothing could
kill him. He could not be drowned even if dropped hundreds of feet into
the lake, nor burned to death even if he tumbled into the fire. He often
met with accidents, but he always came up right again and was ready for
some other adventure in some new shape. He has left his marks on the rocks
and trees, leaves and flowers. Almost anywhere we look we see signs that
Nanahboozhoo has been around. As his temper was very uncertain he sometimes
caused trouble and injured the appearance of things which were once more
beautiful than they are now. But in general he was the friend of our race
and worked changes that were for our good.
"One day, as Nanahboozhoo was walking along on a sandy shore, he felt very
hungry. It was now in the autumn of the year. As he wandered on he saw an
object moving toward him. He had not long to wait before he saw that this
object was a great black bear. He pulled up a young tree by the roots and
hid himself, preparing to kill the bear when he should come near. When the
bear came near Nanahboozhoo made a big jump out of his hiding place and
killed the bear with one blow. Then he built a big fire, and having singed
all the hair off the bear he cut him up and nicely roasted him. When the
meat was cooked Nanahboozhoo cut it up into fine pieces, for he intended to
enjoy his feast by eating leisurely.
"While he was thus busy preparing his feast he was annoyed by a strange
sound among the tree tops that rubbed together when the wind blew.
Nanahboozhoo was very quick-tempered, and as the noise continued he
determined to stop it. So he left his feast on the ground and climbed away
up one of those trees to the spot where the other pressed against it. He
was endeavoring to pull the two great trees apart when one of his hands got
caught between them and was firmly held. While struggling to get loose he
heard a pack of wolves running toward his bear meat. This made him struggle
the harder to get his hand free. The fierce wolves soon scented the food
and had a good time devouring it, in spite of the shoutings of
Nanahboozhoo.
"When Nanahboozhoo at length got his hand free and came down he found
nothing left of his feast but the skull of the bear. He was very angry, not
only at the wolves that had eaten his feast but also at the trees that had
held him, the great Nanahboozhoo, in so tight a grip. As the wolves had run
away he could not, at present, punish them, but he resolved that he would
so punish these great birch trees that they would never give him such a
squeeze again. So he prepared a great whip and with it he severely thrashed
the trees. Up to this time the birch had been the most beautiful of trees.
Its great trunk was of the purest white, without any blemish or blotch upon
it. But ever since the thrashing Nanahboozhoo gave it it has had to carry
the marks of that terrible whipping; and that is why the white birch tree
is so covered with scars.
"When Nanahboozhoo had ceased thrashing the trees he found himself so very
hungry that he resolved to eat the brains that were in the head of the
bear, that had been overlooked by the wolves. However, he found the skull
very hard. So he transformed himself into a little snake, and in this way
got inside of the bear's skull and enjoyed his feast. In fact he enjoyed it
too much, for when he was through with his eating he could not get out of
the skull, he was so full. However, he was able to roll along, skull and
all, but as he could not see where he was going he bumped along in a very
erratic manner until at length he tumbled into a big lake and sank at first
deep down under the waves.
"When he came up to the surface he just put a part of the head of the bear
out of the water, as does the bear when swimming. Then he listened
intently. It was not long before Nanahboozhoo heard voices saying: