A LONG, long time ago the son of the first chief of the animal people set out upon a journey. Dressed in the skin of a raven, and carrying in his beak a magic bag which his father had given him, he flew eastward over a dark and watery waste. When he had flown far and was tired, he dropped a stone in the sea, and it became an island, upon which he rested.

Again he rose up and flew onward upon slow black wings, no blacker than the gloom that covered the face of the world. As he skimmed the surface of the waves, he scattered from his enchanted bag the spawn of every kind of fish, so that the sea was filled with finny life. Then he turned toward shore, and over the dry land he cast berries and seeds of all plants that are good for food, so that the earth too was ready to burst with fruitfulness, only there was no sun to warm it into life.

Raven became very tired of the eternal darkness, and at last he flew straight upward until he found the hole in the sky, and went right through the hole. There he left the raven’s skin lying and flew on till he came to a spring of clear water, bubbling up with a sound like maidens’ laughter near the wigwam of the Chief of Heaven. He turned himself into a leaf and floated in the pool, waiting for the chief’s daughter. When she came, she was indeed very beautiful. Stooping, she dipped up the leaf in her bucket and drank it with the water.

Now the maiden returned to her home, and not long after a child was born to her. The baby grew very fast. He was stronger than any child ever seen, yet he cried continually. Soon he was creeping about the floor and crying all the time in a loud voice. The wise old men were called in to explain these cries, and the wisest one of all told the princess that her son was crying for a large box that hung under the roof. This was the box that held the daylight.

Since nothing else would do, they took down the box and gave it to the child to play with. For four days he rolled it about the floor; then one day, when no one was looking, he lifted it to his shoulders, got to his feet, and ran out of the door with it. He sped as fast as he could to the hole in the sky, put on the raven’s skin that he found lying there, and flew down to earth with the precious box.

Now the Frog people were fishing down there, and they made a great noise and confusion in the darkness. Raven called upon them to be silent, but they paid no attention to him. The big frogs were bellowing very loud, and the little frogs were piping high and shrill, and there was no peace or quiet anywhere. Raven told them twice to be less noisy, and when they would not, he said, “Then I shall open the box.”

So he opened it, and daylight overspread the earth.

THE OLD WOMAN AND THE TIDES

Again Raven flew over the waters till he reached the mainland and the wigwam of the old, old woman who holds the tide lines in her hand. At that time the tide would remain high for many days at a time, so that the people could get no clams or other sea food. It happened that Raven was very hungry for clams, but he entered the hut and sat down, saying pleasantly:

“Good day, grandmother: there is fine digging to-day. I have just had all the clams I could eat.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the old woman. “What are you talking about, Raven? You know very well that the clams are all covered.”

“Yes, but I’ve had all the clams I want,” he insisted.

“That isn’t so,” she declared.

THE OLD WOMAN AND THE TIDES
He rudely pushed her backward until she fell down.
Page 83.

Upon this he rudely pushed her backward until she fell down, and her mouth and eyes were filled with dust. Of course she was forced to let go the tide lines, so that the tide ran quickly out, and the beach was covered with fine fat clams and other shellfish. Raven did not come back to the hut until he had eaten as many as he possibly could.

“My eyes are blinded with dust,” mourned the old woman. “Will you not give me back my sight?”

“I will, if you will promise to slacken the tide lines twice a day,” he replied.

So she said that she would, and from that time to this the tides have run in and out twice each day.

HOW THE FIRE WAS BROUGHT

After a time, Raven saw that the people were discontented without fire, for they could neither cook their food nor warm themselves when it was cold. He remembered that they had fire at home in his father’s village, so he flew westward once more until he came to the wigwams of the animal people. But however hard he begged, they would not give him what he had come for.

Raven made a new plan. He went a little way off and sent the Sea Gull to the camp with this message:

“A handsome young chief will come to feast and dance in the dwelling of your chief. See that all is ready.”

He knew that the people would prepare for their guest, so he caught a Deer and tied a bundle of pitch-pine to its tail, for at that time the deer had a long tail like that of the fox. He borrowed the canoe of the Great Shark, and with the Deer came in it to the village.

As he expected, the house of his father the chief was full of people, and there was a big fire made and much feasting and merriment. All the creatures were dancing and singing, and the very birds clapped their wings for joy.

The Deer entered, leaping and dancing, and his grace was much admired, but as he danced around the fire he swung his long tail over it, and the pitch blazed up. He ran out, sprang into the sea and swam off, with his lighted tail flaring above the waves like a torch. Many sprang into their canoes and tried to follow him, but he escaped and reached our shores in safety. There he struck a dead fir tree with his blazing tail and said to it:

“You shall burn as long as the years last!”

We should remember that it is to him we owe the gift of fire, for his tail was burned off, and since that day all Deer have had a short black tail.

RAVEN AND THE CRAB

Raven had been flying all night over the ocean, and he had grown very hungry indeed, but what was there to eat? At sunrise he reached a sand spit, and there sat a large Crab. Raven thought he might be good to eat, but he was a little timid about attacking him, so he merely touched him on the back, saying, “Let us have a game, grandfather!”

“Certainly not,” replied the Crab gruffly.

But Raven grew bolder and touched him again and again, crying out teasingly, “Come on, let us have a game, grandfather!”

Presently the tide turned, and about that time the Crab grew angry. He seized Raven by the leg and walked very slowly into the water with him.

“Dear grandfather, only let me go!” begged Raven, for he was terribly frightened.

Crab paid no attention to his prayers and cries, but walked on the bottom of the sea until he felt sure that his enemy was dead, when he let go of him, and Raven came up and floated lifeless on the top of the waves.

A light wind wafted him ashore, and he lay for a long time motionless on the warm sand. At last the sun revived him, and he awoke. He looked at his raven skin and saw that it was sadly draggled and some of the feathers had come off, but he was so thankful to be alive that he only said to himself, “After all, I have not done so badly!”

THE BEAUTIFUL BLANKET

Not long after this, Raven grew tired of the jet-black robe that his father had given him, and one day he exchanged it for a beautiful blanket of many colors, such as is worn to dances. He had not gone very far when the gay blanket fell to pieces, and he was cold and sorrowful.

He did not know what else to do, so he went back to look for his raven skin and found it lying by the roadside. He put it on again, but soon came upon another dance blanket even handsomer than the first. Forgetting the lesson he had just had, he tore his old robe in half and threw it away with contempt, and dressed himself in the other. Then he walked on, thinking how well he must look in the eyes of any whom he might chance to meet.

This fine dandy was greatly pleased when he saw a strange village near at hand, until, glancing downward, he found to his dismay that he was covered with nothing but moss and lichens. Crying bitterly, he was once more forced to go back in search of his raven skin; after hunting a long time he found it, but it was torn in two. Sadly he pinned it about his body as well as he could and again turned his steps toward the village. While he was still a little way off, Raven plucked up spirit and gathered a piece of rotten spruce wood, which by his magic art he turned into a slave. Lacking a fine blanket, he made for himself some large ear ornaments out of common clam shells which he found on the beach. Then he ordered his slave to walk before him, crying in a loud voice:

“People of the village, here comes my master, who is a great chief! You will know him by the costly ornaments of abalone shell in his ears!”

It is said that the strangers were deceived by this fine talk and invited the pretender to their chief’s wigwam, where a feast was given in his honor.

RAVEN AND THE HUNTERS

One day Raven happened to see a boat load of hunters coming home with plenty of game. As usual, he was hungry, and it occurred to him to take the shape of a woman in the hope of obtaining some food.

Sure enough, when the hunters noticed a good-looking young woman on the shore, they beached their canoe and took her on board. She had a child in her arms, and the child cried incessantly.

“It is hungry,” the woman explained; so they made much broth of wild ducks and fed the child and its mother. They feasted most of that night, and the head man was so well pleased with the supposed woman that he offered to marry her. All went well till they awoke in the morning, when, to his surprise and disgust, the new wife looked like a man.

“So it is you, up to your tricks again, you good-for-nothing Raven! Be off with you!” exclaimed the angry hunter, and he cast him overboard. Raven put on his feathered robe and flew off without any trouble, and at the same moment the baby turned to a crow and flew away also.

RAVEN AND THE CHILDREN

Raven was out for a walk and came upon a crowd of children playing with whale’s blubber. Huge piles of it lay at their feet, and they were throwing lumps at one another in great glee. He stopped and spoke to them.

“Where did you get all that blubber?” he asked.

“Oh,” answered the oldest boy, “we climb up that tall tree you see over yonder and jump down from the topmost limb. As we land, we cry out, ‘Be piled up, all my blubber!’ and it is so.”

Raven immediately climbed the tree and jumped off the highest branch, shouting, “Be piled up, all my blubber!” Nothing happened except that he struck the ground so hard that he was lame for several days. Meanwhile the children picked up the blubber and ran off, laughing heartily.

RAVEN AND HIS MOTHER-IN-LAW

Once upon a time Raven came to a small house away from everybody, where lived two women, a widow and her young daughter. The elder woman asked him in and gave him a good supper, and as the house appeared to be well stocked with dried fish and other necessaries, he proposed that evening to marry the daughter and was accepted.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast, he borrowed the old woman’s stone ax and went out. He told the two women that he was going to cut down a cedar tree and make a boat for the fishing, and he charged his wife to see that her mother had a good meal ready for him on his return. Before night he came back very hungry, saying that he had felled the tree and would begin next day to hollow out the canoe.

This went on for some time, Raven going forth every morning with the ax and returning in the afternoon, apparently tired out, and with so great an appetite that the widow’s stores of food were getting low. They could hear the blows of the ax from time to time in the depths of the forest, but somehow the boat was never quite finished.

At last one morning the old woman said to her daughter, “Go quietly, my child; follow your husband without letting him know it, and see for yourself what progress he is making.”

The young wife did as she was told, and there was the trickster pounding a rotten stump with the stone ax so as to make the sounds they had heard. When she told her mother what she had seen, the two women packed up all the goods they had left and went away.

When Raven went home that night, he found only the empty hut, which was as much as he deserved.

RAVEN AND THE SALMON WOMAN

Now Raven had been unfortunate for a long time and was poorer than ever, but he had at last contrived to build a small hut and make a boat and a spear. Just as he was ready to go fishing, a heavy fog came down and covered the face of the water, hiding his boat entirely. When the fog lifted, there sat a beautiful woman in the bow of the canoe.

“You have come to my boat; will you be my wife?” asked Raven.

And the woman consented, saying, “Yes, if you will be always kind to me, my husband. Remember, I am the Salmon Woman.”

“Then we shall have plenty of fish in our lodge,” exclaimed the pleased bridegroom.

And he was right, for next morning his new wife rose early and stepped barefoot into the little brook that ran close by their hut. Instantly salmon by hundreds came leaping up the stream, and she called to him, saying:

“Husband, come! the creek is full of silver salmon!”

After he had speared many, he went after wood with which to smoke their abundant catch, and as he feared the birds might come down and steal some of his fish while he was gathering the wood, he left one of his eyes to watch the boat, telling it to be sure and call him in case the birds came near the salmon. Soon the eye cried out, “Master, come quickly! the birds are here.” But as he was very busy he merely replied, “Hide the fish under the seat until I come,” and went on with his work.

When he came back to the boat with a load of wood, he found to his sorrow that the greedy creatures had not only eaten up all the fish but his eye also.

Crying bitterly, Raven went back to his wife, who asked him what the matter was. When he told her, she had only to touch the empty socket, and immediately he had a new eye quite as good as the other. As for the stolen fish, he did not miss them at all, for the tiny stream was now so full of salmon that there was scarcely any water to be seen.

Although their poor hut was well supplied with food, and his meals well cooked, and his wife was as loving and kind as she was beautiful, nevertheless Raven would leave her in the morning and be gone all day without saying where he went. By and by he began to come home in a bad temper and to speak to her harshly. One evening he exclaimed:

“Well, who has been to see you to-day?”

“No one has been to see me, my husband,” she replied. “No one ever comes to this lonely place.”

“Don’t try to deceive me,” said he roughly. “A man has been here in my absence. I know it, because I have been gambling this long time, and at first I had good luck, but to-day my luck was bad; therefore I know you have had a man here.”

Then the Salmon Woman felt insulted, and without speaking to him she turned to the dried fish that hung from the ceiling. “Come, O my tribe!” she cried, and all the fish came to life and followed her. She sprang into the water and swam away, and they all swam after her, leaving the unkind husband alone and hungry once more.

THE ANIMALS IN COUNCIL

It is now many years since the ancient friendship between man and the animal tribes was broken, and since that time the animals have been hunted continually and go about in fear of their lives. One day Grizzly Bear invited all the larger beasts to meet at his wigwam and discuss the matter. Deer, Elk, Wolf, and many others were present when Grizzly Bear made his great speech in which he spoke of the constant danger they were in and the need of finding a remedy, and finally proposed that they petition He-Who-Made-Us to lengthen the winter and cause very deep snows with extreme cold, so that the hunters could not get about.

All agreed to this plan, but Wolf got up and proposed that before acting upon it they should consult the smaller animals and even the Insect tribes. “For,” said he, “if we ignore them now they may make trouble for us later on.”

The others had no objection, and next day Beaver, Squirrel, Mink, Muskrat, all four-footed creatures down to the little Mouse, and all of the Insect tribes as well, were invited to join in the council.

It was a great gathering. The larger animals sat on one side of a wide semicircle, and the smaller on the other side. Again Grizzly Bear made the first speech, telling of the meeting of the day before and of his suggestion, and asking all present for their opinion on the matter. After a silence, Porcupine arose and remarked that the idea might do well enough for those who had warm fur coats, but that many of the little people were not so well protected against severe weather, and as for the feeble Insects, if the winters should become any longer or colder than they were already, they would all perish, therefore they could not agree to the proposal.

“I don’t care whether you agree or not,” growled the Bear. “We larger animals have decided that this is the best thing to do, and we are going to do it anyhow.”

“I fear you are short-sighted,” replied Porcupine, who found that he had used the wrong argument. “You large animals are always roaming the woods in search of something to eat, and if the winters grow any colder there will be no food for you, that is certain. All life will perish, even the roots of the grass on which the Deer lives, and the berry bushes of which the Bear is so fond will be frozen. You will all starve, but we shall live, for we Porcupines can live on the bark of trees; and as for the smallest Insects, they can burrow into the earth and survive.”

The other animals were impressed by this speech and began to say among themselves, “How wise he is!” “Now who would have thought of that?” and “I think we should reconsider the matter.”

“Ah, ha, ha!” laughed Porcupine, and he was so pleased with himself that he stuck his thumb into his mouth and then bit it off, which is the reason that he has only four fingers and no thumb.

Now the animals called him the wisest of their number and accepted his decision, and as for those who would not agree, Porcupine filled them full of sharp quills, on which account they all stand in awe of him to this very day.

THE FOUR WINDS

Once there were four great chiefs who lived in the four corners of the earth, and their names were North Wind, South Wind, East Wind, and West Wind. The other three all hated North Wind, for he was very rude and boisterous, and insisted upon blowing his bitter blast into their faces at all times of the year, so that the tender fruit buds and fragile blossoms were never safe from his withering breath.

Finally they united to make war upon him, and after a long struggle they succeeded in gaining his promise that he would only blow for half the year, which helped matters a little.

Now the South Wind had four sturdy sons and a beautiful daughter, while North Wind’s family consisted of twin boys, one of whom was called Frosted, and the other Frozen. No sooner were the children grown up than Frosted wished to marry the daughter of South Wind, who was as fair and gentle as a summer’s day, but she would have nothing to say to him.

The next year Frozen came courting. He was a handsome fellow, very determined, and proved more fortunate than his brother. The wedding feast was the finest ever known in that part of the country. It lasted for seven days, at the end of which Frozen carried home his bride in a tempest of wind and rain.

When South Wind’s daughter reached the land of perpetual snow and ice, she very soon regretted her rash choice. There was not so much as a spark of fire in the house, which was built of ice blocks, and day and night she was chilled to the very marrow of her bones. Meanwhile the rest of the family were saying, “What a pleasant season we are having!” and “The weather seems unusually mild for this time of the year!”

At last she could bear it no longer, and one day as she sat sadly on the beach she picked up a bit of yellow driftwood and carved it into the shape of a duck. When she had finished, she tossed the duck into the air, saying:

“Fly south, little duck, and tell my father that I am very unhappy here in the cruel northland!” And the duck flew away southward.

Far in the southland the South Wind’s wife stood in the door of their wigwam and called to her husband, “Look, husband! Spring is coming, for I see the ducks returning!”

The little yellow duck came on, and as soon as he was near enough he gave the daughter’s message:

“Your child is very unhappy there in the cruel northland!”

When South Wind understood it, he was angry and called his four strong sons to his side. “Boys,” said he, “go at once to North Wind’s house and bring home your sister!”

The eldest son started first in the shape of a great gray cloud, and when the little bride saw the cloud in the distance she was glad, for she felt sure that it was her brother. But immediately North Wind went out with his two sons to meet him and drove him back, so that she wrung her hands in sorrow.

The second brother went as a very black cloud, and he got a little farther than the first when he too was fiercely attacked and beaten back. Then the bride of Frozen cried bitterly, for she began to be afraid she must stay there forever.

The third brother went as a great storm of rain, and he had nearly reached the spot where his sister was eagerly waiting, when the icy wind turned the rain to hail and drove it back, and the poor girl was in despair.

However, there was still the youngest brother. He went as a sharp-edged and thin cloud which slipped right by North Wind and reached his palace, where he turned all the ice to water. The whole country was flooded, and North Wind and his family were helpless.

“Not only does your son lose his bride,” cried the victorious son of South Wind, as he retreated with his sister, “but I shall take away three of your months also. From this time forth you are allowed to blow but three months in the year.” Thereupon the four Winds divided the year among them in this fashion: to North Wind the three winter months, to East Wind the spring, to West Wind the summer, and the autumn to South Wind.

THE FEAST OF THE MOUNTAIN GOATS

In the old days the hunters were many and skillful. They killed hundreds of mountain goats for their flesh and skins and left their bones lying unburned on the rocks, which was a great dishonor. Moreover, their children were thoughtless.

One day, a young man whose name was Really Black Raven Feather was walking along the beach, and he saw a group of boys making merry with a kid. They would seize it and throw it into the water, watch its struggles for a time, then drag it ashore half drowned, and as soon as the poor creature was able to walk, they would throw it in again. When they tired of this sport, they built a fire and put the kid in the fire, to dry, as they said; but before it was more than scorched this young man pulled it out and scolded the boys severely for their cruelty, so that they all ran away.

Not long after this, a messenger came down from the hills inviting all the villagers to a feast, and as was the custom they followed the messenger. They came to a large wigwam on the mountain side which they had never seen before, and all were seated within this immense tent. Really Black was given a seat immediately behind the tent pole, which was unusually heavy.

Soon a crowd of people wearing goats’ headdresses came dancing and singing over the rocks. They danced around and in front of the wigwam, and presently the chief dancer kicked so high that he touched the tent covering with his goat’s hoof. Instantly it fell down on the heads of the guests and became a mountain which crushed them to death. Only Really Black was saved. He clung to the tent pole, which became a giant spruce growing out of the side of the mountain. Therefore he and his descendants have always respected the goats, and taken care to burn their bones when it was necessary to hunt them for food or clothing.

THE WOMAN WHO BECAME A BEAVER

There was once a man who took his wife with him to hunt raccoons at a distance from the village. They were very successful. Every night the man shot several of the animals, and in the daytime they were both busy skinning them and trying out the fat. One day the young wife became tired of work and she approached her husband and tried to attract his attention, saying playfully:

“Look at me, my husband!”

It is true that she was a pretty woman, but the man was bent on skinning his game just then and took no notice of her. Seeing that he made no answer, she kept on teasing him to look at her. At last he grew provoked.

“Go away,” said he crossly; “you are no better than these raccoons!”

At this the young woman was much hurt and went away without speaking. Her husband finished his work and then came to his supper, but no meal had been prepared for him, and no wife was to be seen. He called and called, but no one answered. After searching for her some time, he discovered the woman taking a bath in a small pool, which she had made for herself by piling up sticks and pebbles to dam the stream.

THE WOMAN WHO BECAME A BEAVER
He discovered the woman in a small pool.
Page 111.

“Come, my wife, it is time to eat,” begged the young husband.

“You have said that I am no better than the raccoons,” she answered, “and I am very much ashamed. I prefer to stay where I am.”

He went back to their hut, but came again later in the evening and tried hard to persuade her.

“My wife, you know that I love you,” he protested. “I only spoke as I did because I was thinking of my work and I wanted to get through with it. I am sorry for what I said, and I did not mean anything by it. Come, now, you should not stay in the water so long or you will be sick; and besides, it is time to go to bed.”

She would not listen to him, however, and he noticed that the dam had grown higher, and the pool was much bigger than before.

The woman did not come to bed at all that night, and the deserted husband could not sleep for thinking of his wife swimming about in the cold water. He lay awake, listening to the lapping of the little waves and the slap of her leathern apron as it struck the water when she dived.

Next morning the pool had become a pond, and out in the middle of it he could still see her swimming about. For the third time he called to her and pleaded with her to come out, but she would not answer him at all, so he went home very sorrowful.

Now the young woman had six brothers, and when they heard what had happened, they all declared that they would go and bring home their sister. Their brother-in-law guided them to the spot where he had left her and behold! a large lake filled the valley, and there was a beaver house under the dam.

The young men saw several young beavers swimming about, and presently they heard a great beaver tail spank the water. Looking closely, they recognized the woman, but she was covered from head to foot with soft brown fur, and her leathern apron had become the flat tail of a beaver.

At this they wept much, and with one voice implored her to come home.

“No,” said the beaver woman. “My husband has said that I am no better than the raccoons, and I am too much ashamed to live with mankind any longer. Do not trouble about me further, for I shall never come back.”

“Let us go away and leave her,” said the eldest brother, for he did not know what else to do. “No,” said the youngest. “Let us break the dam; then all the water will run out, and she will be compelled to come.”

They broke the dam and destroyed the beaver house. The woman lay face downward in the mud at what had been the bottom of the lake. She was quite dead. In all points she was like a beaver, but when they turned the body over, grieving much, the face was the face of the offended wife.

THE TEN PRINCES

The ten sons of a chief went hunting, and all took their wives with them except the youngest brother, who was unmarried. They all camped together at night, and in the morning the eldest prince went out in search of game.

The first thing he saw was a fat porcupine coming toward him, which he easily caught. He wrung its neck, and hung it on the branch of a tree, and went on.

Near the top of a hill, he met a handsome white she-bear and shot her dead. He kept on to the very top, and looking down, perceived a strange town at the foot, which made him very curious. He walked up boldly to the first hut, in which a pretty young woman sat alone. She beckoned to him through the window, but he had scarcely entered when some one called out from the next dwelling:

“You have a visitor. Send him here: the chief wishes to see him.”

At the chief’s door, several young men met the stranger with much kindness and greatly admired his weapons, which they begged to be allowed to examine. As soon as he went in, the chief greeted him with all hospitality. He ordered that the softest robes be brought for his seat and caused him to be served with the choicest food. While he ate, his weapons were returned to him and laid at his side. When night came, the chief said, “Bring the best blanket for our guest; he will remain with us to-night”; and it was done.

In the morning a cry arose, “The bears are coming!”

“Let my best hunters go out against them,” ordered the chief. Now the young prince was an expert hunter and had a mind to display his skill, so he hastened to attack the foremost bear. He drew out his best arrow, but to his astonishment the arrow broke. Hurriedly he seized his spear, and the spear broke. In a moment the grizzly bear was upon him and bore him to the ground.

As soon as he was dead, the young men dragged his body into the chief’s hut, where the chief caused it to be cut in pieces and hung up to dry.

Now when this young man did not come back to camp on that day or the next, his wife grew anxious, and the next in age offered to go in search of him. He set out in the same direction, and half-way up the hill he met a fat porcupine, which he clubbed and hung in a tree as his brother had done. A little further on, he saw a white she-bear and killed her, after which he went toward the village which he observed in the distance.

The pretty young woman invited him to come in, and the young men welcomed him cordially and took away his weapons, which they returned to him as he sat feasting in the house of the chief. In short, everything happened to him exactly as it had happened to his brother; and in the morning, when his arrows broke off short, he was at the mercy of the bear, and his body was cut up and hung beside that of the first.

Next day, the third youth went to look for the other two, and so on, until all were gone except the youngest. The nine widows mourned continually, and they begged the last brother not to follow the others, for if he should, they felt sure that he too would be lost and they would all be left without a protector. However, he insisted upon going, assuring them that not only would he come back safe and sound, but would bring back their husbands also.

He took the same path up the hill, and when he saw the fat porcupine coming to meet him, it occurred to him that he had better let her pass unharmed, and he did so. A little later, he met the white she-bear and shot her; but when he came to her he could not help laying his hand gently on her side and exclaiming aloud, “How beautiful she is!”

Instantly the bear became a handsome young woman, who smiled upon him, and warned him of the dangers that he would meet in the Bears’ town at the foot of the hill.

“These people are really Bears,” said she, “and I am one of them sent to deceive you. But you have no wife, and I like you very much. Do not let the young men take your weapons even for a minute, or they will change them to dry sticks as they did those of your nine brothers, who killed me without remorse.”

Finally she gave him two small pups and told him to hide them in his robe, and if ever he was in trouble to set them one by one on the ground, saying, “Red, grow up quick and help me!” “Spot, grow up quick and help me!” and it should be so. Then she kissed and embraced him, and he went on down the hill to the village.

In the first hut he came to he found his sweetheart again, and she greeted him lovingly. When the chief sent for him, she delayed parting with him as long as she could, but was at last forced to let him go, with many charges as to the best way to outwit her kinsmen. Accordingly he kept fast hold of his weapons, when the young men crowded admiringly about him, and even lay awake all night lest they should take them from him while he slept.

In the morning, when the Bears came on as before, and the chief called for men to go out and meet them, the young prince drew his bow and shot the foremost through the heart. More followed, and he killed them one after another until his arrows were all gone. Then he fought with his spear until he was tired out, and still the Bears came on.

Finally he remembered the pups that his sweetheart had given him, and he placed the first one on the ground, saying, “Grow up quick, Red, and help me!”

Instantly the pup became an immense dog which rushed at the Bears and drove them back.

Then he put down the second pup, saying, “Grow up quick, Spot, and help me!” and another savage dog attacked and put to rout the last of his enemies.

Then the young man returned to the Bear chief’s wigwam for his nine brothers. He took down the pieces of their bodies and laid them side by side, and they all came to life and followed the hero and his Bear wife back to their own camp, where they were welcomed with great rejoicings.

THE GIRL WHO REJECTED HER COUSIN

In the old days, a chief’s daughter was expected to marry the son of her uncle, and so keep the chieftainship in the family. But there was once a proud princess who behaved very badly to her cousin when he came wooing, according to the custom.

“I must be sure that you love me,” she said.

“I do love you,” he declared.

Upon which she answered, “Then prove your love by making a cut down your right cheek.”

The young man immediately took out his knife and slashed his right cheek so that the blood streamed over his face.

When the cut had healed, he went again to his cousin and asked for her hand with some confidence, but she said:

“First you must cut your left cheek also, and then I shall know that you really love me.”

The young man did not like to do it, but he would not give up, and he slashed his left cheek also.

He waited for the second cut to heal and then went to her with his scarred face and begged her to marry him at once.

“Yes,” said she, “I will marry you, for you have done well,” and she kissed him, so that he became more in love than ever. Finally she told him sweetly that she was not yet entirely satisfied, and that before the wedding he must cut off all his hair.

Now short hair is considered a disgrace to a man, and the prince was most unwilling to cut his off, but at last he yielded and went to her to ask that the wedding day might be set. But she refused to see him, merely sending a servant with the message that he must be quite mad to suppose that she would marry such a hideous object as he had made of himself.

The poor young man was very unhappy, and he left his home and wandered away until he came to a small hut that stood all by itself under a hill.

An old woman opened the door and kindly asked him to come in—“that is,” said she, “if you are the chief’s son who was rejected by his cousin.”

“I am he,” declared the youth.

“What can I do for you?” asked the old woman.

He answered that he wanted nothing more than to be as he had been, before he disfigured himself at the bidding of the cruel young woman.

Accordingly the crone prepared a bath for him, and when he came out his skin was smooth and fine, without any mark upon it. She combed his hair with a comb of ivory, and it became long and splendid and fell over his shoulders like a mantle, so that he was far handsomer than before.

When he went back to the village, all the people admired him as a being from another world, and his cousin put on her best robes and walked to and fro, trying to attract his attention, but he did not even glance at her. Finally she sent her servant with a message, asking him to come and see her.

When he did not appear, she sent a second time, and inquired very humbly what she could do to please him. He told the messenger to say that if she would slash her right cheek with a knife, he would come.

So the princess cut open her right cheek, and when the cut had healed she sent to her cousin again. This time he made answer that she must first cut her left cheek also, and she did as he ordered.

When her messenger came to the prince a fourth time, he directed that her mistress cut off all her beautiful hair, declaring that he would then be entirely satisfied. Crying bitterly, the poor girl cut it off and sent it to her lover, but he threw it on the ground with contempt, saying that nothing would induce him to look upon the face of a woman who had so disfigured herself.

The wise men say that since this happened, women have not been allowed to choose their husbands, or to refuse the men who have been selected for them to marry.

GRIZZLY BEAR AND THE FOUR CHIEFS

There were once four chiefs who were brothers and lived in one village. In the dead of winter, when food was scarce, a lean stranger came among them and stopped at the hut of the eldest brother.

He was courteously received and seated by the fire, as is the custom, and the chief asked him where he came from.

“I have come a long way,” replied the stranger.

“And what have you eaten on the way?”

“I have eaten nothing but snow,” he said.

Then the chief ordered a dish of snow and a spoon to be placed before his guest, but he got up without touching it and went on to the house of the second brother.

Here he was again asked where he came from and what he had eaten on the road, and when he answered that he had eaten only snow, he was given a large dish of it with a spoon. The same thing happened at the third house.

When the traveler came to the dwelling of the youngest brother, and the host heard that he had eaten nothing but snow and was starving, he said to his wife, “Wife, see if there is still a dried salmon left.”

She looked, and found a single one, half of which she broiled and gave it on a dish to the stranger.

After he had eaten, he made ready to go on, but his host said, “Wife, give our guest the other half of the salmon to eat on the journey,” and she did so.

Then the stranger said to him, “All the others ridiculed a starving man, but you were a true host. Your kindness shall be rewarded. Meet me to-morrow at the mouth of the river.”

The young chief did as he was told, and behold! a great grizzly Bear, who presented him with leggings, a grizzly-bear headdress, and a magic bow which killed all manner of game. From that day he never went hungry, but became the envy of his elder brothers and the richest man in the village.

THE WOODEN WIFE

Once there was a young man newly married who was very fond of his wife. She was not only a pretty woman, but she wove the most beautiful dancing-blankets of any one in the tribe.

One day this young man went into the mountains to hunt wild goats, from whose hair his wife might weave more of her much-prized blankets, and she went with him to keep his hut and to cook for him. While they were yet far from the village, the girl fell sick, and although he did all that he could for her, the young husband soon saw that she was dying. “Tell me, my dear, what can I do for you?” he begged, as he hung over her.

“Only do not leave me soon, my husband! Do not soon forget our love,” sighed the wife, and she died.

The goat-hunter mourned her truly, and he did as she had asked him to do. He remained on the spot where he had lost her and seemed to have no thought of going back to the village. He kept her body with him in the hut as long as he could, and when at last he was forced to lay it away, he carved an image out of cedar wood and set it up in front of her loom, so that as one entered the hut it seemed that a woman sat there, weaving a dancing-blanket. Every morning he went out hunting goats, and when he returned in the evening he would call out as he came near the hut, saying:

“Come out, my wife, and see what I have brought you!” Then he would answer himself in a woman’s voice, “I cannot come just now, my husband. I am weaving, and the wool may become snarled if I leave my loom.”

Presently he would enter the wigwam, come up behind his wooden wife, and kiss her lovingly.

After a time, the story of these strange doings spread to the village, and two young girls, sisters, being filled with curiosity, decided to come and find out for themselves what truth there might be in the rumors that were about. When they reached his lonely hut, the hunter was away as usual, so they raised the door-flap and peeped in. There sat the wooden wife in front of the loom, with her back to them, exactly like a woman weaving.

“Elder sister,” said they, “we are hungry.” But when she did not move nor speak, they knew that she was not a real woman, and they hid in a corner behind some blankets until the husband should return.

By and by they heard his voice outside the hut, telling his wife to come out and see the game he had brought, and then her usual answer that she was busy weaving and could not come just then. Next he came in, put his arms about the wooden wife, and kissed her fondly.

Upon this the elder girl could not help laughing so that he heard it and discovered them both. But the young man was a courteous host. He begged them to be seated and offered them food, and the elder sister ate heartily; she even over-ate, while the younger was very quiet and took but a taste of each dish. The hunter took note of their conduct, and when supper was over, he asked the younger girl to be his wife. “I will marry you,” said she, “if you will put away your wooden wife.” Accordingly he destroyed the image that he had made, and married the girl, and they lived happily together for many years.

ILDINI

Ildini lived at End-of-trail, with his wife and two boys. One day he went fishing when the wind blew strong from the shore. It blew his boat so far out that he could not get back. All day and all night he was blown about the cold gray waters. He became very hungry and chilled to the bone.

Ildini prayed and sang for a fair wind. This was his song:

After many days the wind went down and the canoe floated near a strange shore, but by now the man was so weak that he could not land. On the shore he saw no one but a little child, scarcely big enough to talk. He told the child his name, “Ildini”, and the little fellow repeated it over and over as if it were a game—“Ildini—Ildini—Ildini!” He ran home still saying over the new name, and exclaimed to his grandfather: “Grandfather, come—Ildini!” He kept saying this until the old man followed and discovered the canoe and the fisherman, who was by this time unable to stand.

He called his wife to help him and together they carried Ildini to their house, where they rubbed his limbs, warmed him and gave him broth, a little at a time. When he had recovered, he became the chief of that tribe, and learned their ways and their language. He never ceased to mourn for the two sons whom he had left behind at End-of-trail, but he did not weep for his wife, for he believed her faithless and thought that she had been the cause of his misfortune. In truth she supposed him dead and had long since married another.