Part 12 (1/2)

I will go hence. Take the seven teeth of the wise little four-legged man and drive them into my body.”

They did so, and as the last tooth entered him the old man died.

MUk.u.mIK! MUk.u.mIK! MUk.u.mIK!

Pauppukkeewis was a harum-scarum fellow who played many queer tricks, but he took care, nevertheless, to supply his family and children with food. Sometimes, however, he was hard-pressed, and once he and his whole family were on the point of starving. Every resource seemed to have failed. The snow was so deep, and the storm continued so long, that he could not even find a partridge or a hare, and his usual supply of fish had failed him. His lodge stood in some woods not far away from the sh.o.r.es of the Gitchiguma, or great water, where the autumnal storms had piled up the ice into high pinnacles, resembling castles.

”I will go,” said he to his family one morning, ”to these castles, and solicit the pity of the spirits who inhabit them, for I know that they are the residence of some of the spirits of Rabiboonoka.”

He did so, and his pet.i.tion was not disregarded. The spirits told him to fill his mushkemoots or sacks with the ice and snow, and pa.s.s on towards his lodge, without looking back, until he came to a certain hill. He was then to drop his sacks, and leave them till morning, when he would find them full of fish.

The spirits cautioned him that he must by no means look back, although he should hear a great many voices crying out to him abusing him; for they told him such voices would be in reality only the wind playing through the branches of the trees.

Pauppukkeewis faithfully obeyed the directions given him, although he found it difficult to avoid looking round to see who was calling to him. When he visited the sacks in the morning, he found them filled with fish.

It happened that Manabozho visited him on the morning when he brought the fish home, and the visitor was invited to partake of the feast.

While they were eating, Manabozho could not help asking where such an abundance of food had been procured at a time when most were in a state of starvation.

Pauppukkeewis frankly told him the secret, and and what precautions to take to ensure success. Manabozho determined to profit by the information, and, as soon as he could, set out to visit the icy castles. All things happened as Pauppukkeewis had told him. The spirits appeared to be kind, and told Manabozho to fill and carry. He accordingly filled his sacks with ice and snow, and then walked off quickly to the hill where he was to leave them. As he went, however, he heard voices calling out behind him.

”Thief! thief! He has stolen fish from Rabiboonoka,” cried one.

”Muk.u.mik! Muk.u.mik! take it away, take it away,” cried another.

Manabozho's ears were so a.s.sailed by all manner of insulting cries, that at last he got angry, and, quite forgetting the directions given him, he turned his head to see who it was that was abusing him. He saw no one, and proceeded on his way to the hill, to which he was accompanied by his invisible tormentors. He left his bags of ice and snow there, to be changed into fish, and came back the next morning.

His disobedience had, however, dissolved the charm, and he found his bags still full of rubbish.

In consequence of this he is condemned every year, during the month of March, to run over the hills, with Pauppukkeewis following him, crying--

”Muk.u.mik! Muk.u.mik!”

THE SWING BY THE LAKE.

There was an old hag of a woman who lived with her daughter-in-law and her husband, with their son and a little orphan boy. When her son-in-law came home from hunting, it was his custom to bring his wife the moose's lip, the kidney of the bear, or some other choice bits of different animals. These the girl would cook crisp, so that the sound of their cracking could be heard when she ate them. This kind attention of the hunter to his wife aroused the envy of the old woman.

She wished to have the same luxuries, and, in order to obtain them, she at last resolved to kill the young wife. One day she asked her to leave her infant son to the care of the orphan boy, and come out and swing with her. The wife consented, and the mother-in-law took her to the sh.o.r.e of a lake, where there was a high ridge of rocks overhanging the water. Upon the top of these rocks the old woman put up a swing, and, having fastened a piece of leather round her body, she commenced to swing herself, going over the precipice each time. She continued this for a short while, and then, stopping, told her daughter-in-law to take her place. She did so, and, having tied the leather round her, began to swing backwards and forwards. When she was well going, sweeping at each turn clear beyond the precipice, the old woman slyly cut the cords, and let her drop into the lake. She then put on some of the girl's clothing, entered the lodge in the dusk of the evening, and went about the work in which her daughter-in-law had been usually occupied at such a time. She found the child crying, and, since the mother was not there to give it the breast, it cried on. Then the orphan boy asked her where the mother was.

”She is still swinging,” replied the old woman.

”I will go,” said he, ”and look for her.”

”No,” said the old woman, ”you must not. What would you go for?”

In the evening, when the husband came in, he gave the coveted morsels to what he supposed was his wife. He missed the old woman, but asked nothing about her. Meanwhile the woman ate the morsels, and tried to quiet the child. The husband, seeing that she kept her face away from him, was astonished, and asked why the child cried so. His pretended wife answered that she did not know.