39. THE MAN WHO EXHALED FIRE—HIS DOGS AND THE WOLVES.^[40]

Now this is great.

A man had a dog and was always kind to it and the dog loved the man. Now this man would smoke tobacco after he had eaten his evening meal. Smoke issued from his mouth and sparks of fire flew from his pipe. The dog noticed this.

The man was a hunter and had large stores of meat hung up on poles and stored in his lodge. This was fortunate for the man because game was now very scarce. The wolves about were ravenous. They came from great distances toward the lodge of the hunter because they smelled his meat. The hunter’s dog saw them and asked them what they intended to do. They answered that they were hungry and intended to kill the hunter and eat his meat. They also advised the dog to keep away for they surely would kill his brother (the man) and also him if he interfered or warned his master. This worried the good dog and he thought some time how he could save his brother. So he spoke and said, “You can never kill my brother. He is too great a wizard. He has the greatest charms on earth. He eats fire and blows it from his mouth with clouds of smoke. Beware, I tell you,—do not attempt to injure him, for if you do he will torture you in the flames. You will be unable to escape for the smell of his fire travels a great distance and is great magic. If you do not believe me come and look after the evening meal and see for yourselves.”

Then did the wolves laugh and say, “You are somewhat of a liar but we will come and see.”

The dog was very angry then.

When evening came the wolves gathered around the hunter’s lodge and watched him eat his meal. When he had finished they saw him take a brand of flaming fire and put it to his face. Then he waved the flame in front of his face and it disappeared. Then smoke in volumes issued from his mouth because the fire must have entered his stomach and be burning. Sparks flew in the wind and they smelled the smoke of the fire. They had never seen such a performance before and were frightened. So they did not dare attack the man at night. They ran back in the forest and hid. The next day the dog went and found them. Then the wolves said, “We can not kill your brother, he is too great a conjurer. His power is too much for us to fight. We are glad you told us.”

Now this was all right. The dog did not tell his master but defended him with his wits. If one is kind to a dog he will never know how many times the dog will save him from danger and death. That is all.

Turtles have never done anything wonderful since the foundation of the world. This is what a discontented turtle thought. “Now it is for me to show myself a leader of warriors and thus bring glory to the turtles.”

Thus the turtle set about to devise a song by which he should call volunteers together. After a prolonged study he composed a tune and chose the words of a stirring war song, crawled into his canoe and paddled down the river, singing as he went.

A wolf running along the shore lifted his head and pricked his ears as he heard this odd song floating down the river, and listening, caught its import. When the turtle came near he began to yelp.

“I am a famous warrior and will volunteer,” he shouted.

The turtle grounded his canoe and crawled up the bank to inspect his would-be recruit.

“Well, what can you do, wolf?” said he.

“Oh ho! I can run,” said the wolf and then started off at a furious pace and returning asked what impression he had made.

“Now it seems to me,” answered the turtle as he started to turn around, “you would be very apt to desert me when I most needed your support, so I say good-bye.”

Going back to his canoe he tumbled in and paddled down the stream, once more singing.

A fox barked and waving his brush signalled the singing turtle.

“I will be your follower for I am a cunning warrior,” said the fox.

Pushing the canoe ashore the turtle flopped out and ambled up to the fox.

“Now warrior,” said he, “show me your excellence.”

The fox gave a sudden spring and was out of sight before the turtle could turn to look, then bounding back asked if he were not skillful indeed.

“Your feet may be swift,” replied the turtle, “but I see no signs of a warrior in you,” and pushing his way over the pebbles he reseated himself in his canoe. Paddling out into midstream he resumed his singing and after some time was hailed again. Landing he found a new volunteer in the form of a skunk.

“Well now what can you do,” said the turtle looking at the handsome creature before him.

Without moving from his tracks the skunk gave a satisfactory demonstration of his ability, to the turtle’s great delight.

“Jump in, Se´no‘, two brave fellows as we can collect a most formidable party,” said the turtle, and he changed the words of his song as he paddled.

A rattlesnake next offered his services and when he had shaken his rattles and shown his fangs, was accepted.

“Tumble in,” said the turtle, “and we will sing until another warrior as brave as we is added to our party.” So all sang, as they coursed down the stream.

The song attracted a hedgehog, and wishing to become a warrior too, he shouted from the shore.

“Well, what can you do?” inquired the turtle as the canoe neared the bank.

“I can shoot my arrows,” said the hedgehog, and mounting a stump shook himself until his quills flew in all directions.

“You are my warrior,” said the turtle as he shoved his canoe to a convenient embarking point.

When the hedgehog had climbed over the side of the canoe and the war party had paddled off from the shore, the turtle swelled proud in his skill and sang a mighty war song defying all foes.

The party counselled together and decided to make their first attack upon a human settlement. Reaching a short distance below they secreted their canoe and crawled stealthily through the bushes and grass to a lodge not far from the river. It was evening and the party resolved to take their positions of attack and await the coming of dawn. The skunk lay at the back door, the hedgehog at the wood pile, the snake coiled in the kindling barrel and the turtle hid beneath the rocks of the spring and morning found them ready to fight.

A woman pushed aside the curtain of the lodge door and stepped out of doors. The skunk was on the alert and shot her full at her face. The woman with a groan fell upon him and beat his head flat with her fists. Another woman, hearing the commotion rushed out and standing at the wood pile to watch her distressed sister received a sudden shock. The hedgehog ran between her legs and filled them full of his sharp barbed quills. With a scream the woman dealt her assailant a death blow with a billet of wood and ran screaming into the house. Soon, out came another woman bearing a basket which she set down in the kindling barrel as she paused to look at the dead bodies of the hedgehog and the skunk. Through the splints she saw the coils of a snake. She picked up a heavy stone and flung it into the barrel and killed the snake before he had had a chance to strike.

A man now emerged from the lodge laughing, “Ha, ha! Women are always in trouble, Hoh ho!” Laughing at the discomfort of his wife and sisters he ran down the spring path and sank his clay kettle beneath the surface of the spring. This was now the turtle’s opportunity and with a furious leap he fastened his jaws in the man’s leg. The man endeavored to suppress a howl as he felt the sudden pain and tried to beat off his enemy, but the turtle’s jaw was set and his back was armored.

“Oh get off,” begged the man doing his best to conceal his suffering, but the turtle only bit deeper.

Loudly the man cried and then began to threaten to kill the turtle. “I will drag you into the fire,” he said. This so frightened the turtle that he began to waver with fear but gathering up courage determined to escape without crying for quarter, so he said, “Hurry then, put me in the fire, it is my natural home and I am lonesome, hurry now!”

The man groaned and cried in desperation, “The river for you, I will drown you!”

The turtle pleaded most earnestly to be spared that fate but the man was resolute and limping to the river he thrust in his leg. The turtle gripped until he bit through the leg bone, then relaxing his jaws, he swam rapidly under the water and crawled out in a sheltered spot.

“Agi´!” exclaimed the man as he crawled to his lodge, “I am glad he is drowned.”

The turtle found his canoe but was unable to push it back up the stream against the swift current. Discouraged, he sank it and swam back to land where he lay lamenting his failures, then he turned on his back as if dead and gave himself up to grief. Grief gave place to meditation and at last he righted himself and crawled away saying:

“No, I am not a great chief, but I am a turtle and am satisfied, for the glory of turtles is that the earth and all creation rests upon the back of one. That is good enough.”

There was a turtle who lived in a deep hole in a stream. He lingered there and it was a favorite spot for his fishing. On the shore there was a swampy place where he hid himself when not in the stream.

One day it grew very cold and the turtle felt very sleepy. He looked about for a soft spot in the mud and found one beneath some tall sheltering rushes. “Here I will sleep,” said he. So saying he slept.

When he opened his eyes there was a vast expanse of water over his head. Everything had changed and all the rushes had vanished. He threw off the mud blanket that covered him and ambled out on the floor of his resting place. “Iik,” he exclaimed. “Something has happened. Some magician has taken liberties with my home.” So saying he swam to the surface of the water.

Instead of the little stream with its neighboring swamp he saw a big lake. As far as he could see there was a lake. He looked about and saw an island in the lake and to it he swam. It was covered with sticks, and when he crawled upon it there was a hollow sound within, which frightened Turtle and caused him to slip quietly off and conceal himself.

Soon he saw a dark form emerge from the water beneath the island and rise to the surface.

Craftily Turtle raised his head and called. “Who are you?” Then he submerged quickly.

There was a whistling answer, a slap of the water and a voice said, “I am Beaver. Who are you?”

“So that is the case,” thought Turtle. “So someone has stolen my fishing place.” He was very angry and swam to the shore where he saw all kinds of branches broken up by cutting.

Soon he heard someone say, “Get out of my way.”

Turtle looked up and saw Beaver dragging a branch.

“One would think,” answered Turtle that it should be I who said ‘get out of my way’.”

“Well, what right have you here?” asked Beaver.

“This is my home,” said Turtle. “I have lived here a long time.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed Beaver. “If this is your home, where is your house? Now I say this is my home, for there is my house.” He pointed to the thing that Turtle had thought an island.

“How did you get here?” asked Turtle.

“I came here and built a dam, made this lake, and now I have a house here.”

“I came here long ago,” said Turtle, “and built a fishing hole. My abiding place is in the swamp. You, Oh Beaver, have no right to spoil my home. It is my intention to break down your dam and restore my home.”

“Well,” said Beaver, “that would not do us any good for I would build another and others of my tribe would catch you and gnaw your head off.”

“How shall we settle this thing?” asked Turtle.

“We will see who can stay under water longest,” said Turtle.

“No, that would be too easy for me,” said Beaver. “I could sleep a year under water. I was going to ask that as a test myself. I propose that we run a race.”

Turtle was vexed, for he did not wish Beaver to win, and so he did not insist upon the under water test. He was also crafty. So he said:

“Whoever wins the race shall stay here; whoso loses shall depart. First we shall have a trial of racing, and then the race will begin.”

So they both came abreast in the water and started to swim. Soon Turtle called Beaver back. “Now we will begin again,” said he, with a wicked gleam in his black beady eye.

As they were about to start, Turtle said, “I will purposely lag behind. When I pinch your tail then we will both start swimming.”

Soon Turtle bit Beaver’s tail and both started swimming, but crafty Turtle hung onto Beaver and was dragged through the water until within sight of shore, when he bit harder than ever.

Beaver gave a big grunt and whistled, “So you are there behind me? Well, I will win yet!”

Turtle bit again, this time harder than ever, making Beaver squeal with pain. “I’ll fix you for this,” he called, and flopped his tail over his head. Turtle hung on, and when he felt himself over Beaver’s head he let go and continued to speed through the air like a flying squirrel. Far upon the shore he landed, way ahead of Beaver.

“I have won this race,” he called back defiantly. “You must go away from here; this is my fishing pond.”

Thereupon, Beaver was greatly vexed, and swam away to nurse his sore tail. Turtle had outwitted him.

There was a wolf, T‘ha‘hyoÑ´ni‘, a friend of the birds. He always helped the birds and told them where to find food. Now Djoaga’, the raccoon disliked Tah´yoni and when he met him one day he made insulting remarks. Tah´yoni’ became angry and snapped at Djoaga. The raccoon rolled over on his back and with teeth and claws was on the defensive. Tah´yoni’ then did not want to fight. The raccoon did not wish to fight, moreover. So when the wolf turned his head Djoaga ran up a tree where he could insult Tah´yoni’ without danger. A wolf cannot climb a tree. It was night now. So the wolf sat beneath the tree and quarreled with the raccoon. He sang:

The raccoon replied:

So back and forth they sang alternately all night. Towards morning the raccoon discovered that his enemy below was strangely silent. He did not respond to his insults, neither did he sing his threats. So Djoaga sang again and listening heard no response. “He is asleep,” he thought. “I will climb down and see.” Djoaga descended cautiously and looked at the wolf. True he was asleep. “Now I have you to advantage,” said Djoaga softly. Then he squatted his haunches and covered Tah´yoni’s eyes with pitch and clay. When he had done this he ran off thinking that he had done a great trick. Then he laughed. “Tah´yoni’ went to sleep,” he chuckled. “It is better not to sleep if you wish to get the best of a fight.” After that he ran off into the woods to relate his joke.

Now then the wolf was very tired and did not awaken until noon. It was dark to him and he could not open his eyes. There seemed to be a dried plaster sealing them over. This frightened Tah´yoni’. Then he howled. He called the birds. So first came the tree tappers. Tah´yoni’ said, “Remove the plaster from my eyes and I will reward you with whatever you may ask.” So now then the birds began to eat the plaster from his eyelids and after a while he was able to see. Then he was very grateful to the birds, so he asked them what they desired most and they answered that they would like to be painted. So he painted the birds. Some he striped, some he spotted and some he mottled. He painted birds, blue, red, black, white, green, yellow, and all the colors. The birds were very glad then that they had helped the wolf for now they were handsome to look upon. Thus came there to be different colored birds so it is said by the ga-gÄ (legends). So it ends, the tale.

There was a hungry bear. He could find nothing to eat. At length he caught a chipmunk and held it a prisoner. After a while he intended to eat it. Now the bear was about to eat the chipmunk when the little animal begged that it might be allowed to sing his death chant and dance his last dance. So the bear let him free for a time but watched him closely. Now the chipmunk sang this song:

Now he sang this over and over as he danced over the leaf mold of the forest. After some time he felt a soft spot and thought a hole might be beneath. He gave a jump and sank in but the bear was watching and as he disappeared down the hole he grabbed the chipmunk by the neck and drew his four claws over its length. This hurt the chipmunk and tore his skin. After that scabs formed and when they came off the chipmunk had stripes on his back. He was glad that he had escaped. Now it is said that so came the stripes of the chipmunk. So it ends.

There was a certain woman who was accustomed to ridiculing Gwaio, the rabbit. She called him Honishogwadusshe. Usually she called him Hegowa (gallops). One day Gwaio was running by this woman’s house. She saw him and came out to deride him for she always thought rabbits queer animals. When she saw him she sang a song. This is what she sang:

Now this made Gwaio embarrassed and he hastened to escape from the sound of the song. He ran very far but soon saw the woman again singing as before.

Then he ran fast again and when he thought that he had escaped he heard the woman singing again,

This made him angry and he was mystified to know how the woman could be ever before him singing her song when he had passed her twice. So he ran again and when he thought himself safe again he saw her before him singing as before,

Again he ran and hearing her sing once more fell exhausted at her feet tortured by the song and laughter of the merciless woman. He said, “O woman, you must be a great witch to be ever before me when I pass you.”

Then the woman laughed and said, “O rabbit you must be a great fool not to know that I have not moved and that you have been running around in a circle. When you ran up to me I sang the song,

Now the old people say that when you see a rabbit and wish to kill it to remain still and make ready to shoot. He will come again round a circle and you can kill him. This thing was learned from this legend. Now when you hunt rabbits sing this song when you see one and soon he will appear again for he runs in circles and returns to the same spot in which you saw him first. So now all.

In old times there was a rabbit,—Osida Hodaweo, that was his name. Now Osida was a gambler and was continually winning games. He had a deadly enemy, Seno,—that was his name, a skunk. Now this Seno loved two sisters. He never gambled but always had plenty to eat. Osida, also loved the same two sisters. He gambled and had stores of goods. So Osida was the choice of the women but his grandmother said that they would be fickle and would desert him when his luck changed. Then Osida laughed at the old woman.

His wives were always faithful and cooked good food. Each morning he returned from his gambling. Then he sang a song:

Then his wives hearing his song in the distance would run out on the trail to greet him. They would sing a song:

So it happened this way continuously. Then it changed. One morning he sang his song but his wives did not come to greet him. He did not hear their song. He thought that it was strange. But he kept singing. He had no goods with him. For a long time now he had brought nothing home. His luck had changed. Therefore he wished his wives to come and cheer him but they did not come. He continued to sing until he stood outside the lodge door. He paused and listened but heard no sound within. He thought that was strange. He entered the lodge and it was empty. No one was within. There was a hot meal ready for him and he sat down and ate. He was absent minded and did not see what he was eating. After a time he heard singing in the air above the lodge. He heard the words:

These were the words he heard and then he voided his meal.^[42] He ran out of the lodge, and above the trees overhead he saw his wives paddling a canoe through the air. They were not descending. Osida was sick at stomach but he ran to catch them. They paddled fast and he did not succeed in getting near them for some time. At last he was at the side of the canoe which the women were paddling over the ground. He leaped into the canoe but the women leaped out and hopped away into the bush lands. Osida chased them but lost sight of his runaway wives.

Now Seno heard a noise above his burrow and sticking his head from the door saw the women whom he loved running. “Kwe!” he cried, “what is your haste?”

“We are running away from Osida,” they replied.

“My lodge will be a safe refuge,” he answered with a smile, and beckoned them in. So they entered.

Osida spied their tracks in the mud and stalked them to a burrow. He was about to run into the hole without looking when a hairy tail of some animal was pushed against his very face. He had no warning and was drenched with Seno’s fetid water. He fell back and cried loudly for he was greatly in distress. By and by his grandmother came to him. She said something to him, but Osida did not laugh. He went home with his grandmother.

There was a raccoon who was fond of crabs. It was his custom to catch the crabs when they swam out from under a rock in the water. After a time the crabs learned how he caught them and when he came near the water they would hide under a flat rock and not come out until a sentinel told them that the raccoon had gone. The raccoon thought it strange that the crabs had grown so wary and resolved to play a trick. He crept to the bank of the brook and lay upon his back pretending to be dead. After some time the crabs crawled out to the bank and looked carefully at the “dead” raccoon. Then the chief of the crabs, Hasanowane Odji’eg´da, was his name, notified all the crab people to come out and see their dead enemy. Now when they had all assembled the chief said, “He is dead, let us all rejoice. He who destroyed us is himself at last destroyed. So let us rejoice and show our gladness by a dance.” So they danced and this was the song:

Soon one of the crabs said, “Are you sure that he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go pinch him and see.” So the crab went and pinched him and the raccoon did not move, so he answered, “Yes, he is dead.” Then they danced again and after a time a crab asked of the chief, “Are you sure he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go and see, then tell us.” So the crab went up and crawled down the raccoon’s throat. When he came out he answered, “Yes, he is dead there is evidence inside.” Then the crabs danced again but after a time a crab asked of the chief, “Are you sure that he is dead?” And the chief answered, “Go and see for yourself, then report to me.” So the crab crawled up and pinched the raccoon’s heart. This made the raccoon very angry and he said to himself, “Now is my time to feast, I have waited too long.” So he leaped up and began devouring the crabs and he ate until his belly was gorged. Then he laughed and thought himself a great trickster. Now that is how the raccoon outwitted the crabs. It is said that it is not safe to rejoice at the downfall of an enemy lest he rise again and devour those that thought they danced at his funeral.

Now a crab slept so long that his eyes dried up. When he awoke he did not know where he was. He could not open his eyes because they had dried up in his head. So he strained for a long time. He crawled along endeavoring to find his way to water. As he crawled he kept striving. After a time he came across an obstruction. So he sang this song:

And the tree answered, “I am the oak!”

“Oh! Oh!” cried the crab, “How far I am from water!”

Now he crawled along straining his eyes and singing his song. He asked every tree whose crooked legs he ran against but they answered, maple or beech, and he was discouraged. After a time a tree said, “rock elm.” Then he was encouraged and said, “Water must be near at hand!” So he kept along striving and singing and when he heard a tree call out “willow” he was exultant. He strained still harder and when he struck water the paste over his eyes melted and so intense was he that his eyes shot out of his head and waved about. Now this was convenient for he could see better than he had ever before. So he decided to keep them out where he could adjust them as he wished. Now the old people have said that this was the way the crab got his eyes and it may be true. So it ends.

There was a time when animals and birds were very large. So, also, trees were more lofty and rivers broader. This was long ago.

Now, in those days there was a great chief of the squirrels, and he was very wise. It was his custom to go stealthily through the forest and watch his people as they worked or sported.

One autumn morning as he lay concealed by the leaves on the limb of a giant oak, he heard a chattering voice call from a hemlock. It was the voice of a squirrel.

“All the autumn days I have been gathering nuts,” said the squirrel in an aggrieved tone, “and yet day by day my store is growing smaller. Who is stealing my hoard? Truly some culprit lurks here and is robbing me of my winter’s food that I have patiently stored in that stump!”

Up from a hole in the hillside popped Tedo‘, the woodchuck. From the dark scummy swamp water a big frog lifted its green head.

“How unfortunate!” said the woodchuck, “Some thief must be lurking here.”

“Yes, I too think it strange,” croaked the big frog, “Surely some thief must be hidden here.”

Then in a chorus both poured out their sympathy to the indignant squirrel.

The squirrel chief seated on the oak limb listened attentively and then nodding his head spoke thus to himself. “True, indeed, thieves are not far away. I think this sympathy betokens knaves.”

At night the chief hid in a branch that overhung the stump that the squirrel had pointed out.

When the sun had gone in his western door and darkness had obscured the earth, from a hole in the hillside a brown head cautiously emerged and after peering slyly around the woodchuck crept from his burrow, swung his tail jauntily and trotted down his path to the swamp. A green backed frog pushed his way from a high tufted hummock of grass through the black water of the swamp toward the hillside. But he made no froggish splash, no gurgling trill, no croak but swam in silence. Reaching the bank he sneaked his way up the path to the stump beneath the squirrel’s hemlock where a furry brown bulk was rummaging.

“Kwe!” exclaimed the frog in a startled note.

“Kwe!” came the hollow reply, and Tedo, the woodchuck, withdrew his head to see who had discovered him but finding it to be only Skoak, the frog, he resumed his work of pilfering the squirrel’s store.

“Iis kho, and you too,” he said in a muffled voice as with bulging cheeks he hurried back to his hole.

Now the frog in those days had sharp gnawing teeth like a beaver’s and when he entered the hollow stump he tested the nuts to find what variety he would choose. He had taken hickory nuts before but now chose to take chestnuts.

From the limb over the stump store house a shrill cry sounded.

“Thief found!” came the alarm, and the woodchuck and the frog buried their ears in their booty to shut out the sound.

On the following day the squirrel chief called a council of all the animals, for in those days the squirrel was a famous animal and mightier than a wolf.

“Thieves have been found,” said he. “I call a council to pronounce judgement.”

Every animal from the neighborhood was present except the frog and the woodchuck.

A delegation was sent to examine the houses of these absent two and after some time returned with the most guilty pair ever brought to council for judgement.

Said the squirrel chief. “I saw you steal the squirrel’s nuts, the delegation found them in your houses, therefore, you shall be punished. You, the woodchuck, shall have your tail removed to humble your pride, and you the frog shall have your teeth taken from your mouth that you may not be further tempted to steal another’s store. You the squirrel have been too careless. Henceforth build your storehouse high and in order to protect yourself from offenders that might attack you, I give you this blanket to stretch from leg to leg so that you may skim the air like a leaf.”

A wolf snapped off the woodchuck’s tail and a heron extracted the frog’s teeth and so punished the guilty knaves in sight of all.

So now all these things came to pass; all frogs were afterwards hatched without teeth, all woodchucks had bobbed tails and all the descendents of the squirrel had blankets fastened to their legs and bellies and made a tribe of their own. Moreover, since that time all frogs have been afraid of long-billed birds and all woodchucks are afraid of wolves but some squirrels have blankets and can skim the air like leaves.

Djikdjunkwa was a lonely chickadee. She was very sad and sat on the limb of a tree singing a sorrowful tune. Then she flew to another tree and listened for an answering call.

A wolf passing by heard her crying song and tears came in his eyes. “Let me be your helper?” he asked.

“What kind of food do you eat, good friend?” asked she.

“Raw meat, raw meat,” exclaimed the wolf, seeking to lure the Chickadee to him.

But Chickadee screamed a fluttering note and flew away. Soon again she sang her song.

“I am so lonesome, I am looking for somebody to marry me.”

A crow flying over listened and was moved to help the distressed little bird.

“Oh poor Chickadee,” said Crow. “I would like to marry you.”

“What would you feed my young ones?” asked the Chickadee.

“Ripe dead meat,” answered the crow, whereupon Chickadee flew away and hid herself in a low bush, until the crow had flown away. Then she returned to a tree and sang again:

“Dji-he, dji-he, dji-i-he, I am so lonely that I would like to marry. Dji-he, dji-he, dji-i-he.”

Soon she heard an answering call and saw a bird like herself. He flew toward her and said, “I am the one and we will marry now.”

Sitting mournfully on the edge of her nest was a heart-broken Gonadjodjo, (Chewink). Her husband had been blown away on the breath of a storm and the bird mother was left alone to care for her hungry brood.

All day long she had waited for her mate to return but, alas, he seemed to have forgotten her. Disconsolate, she listened to her children’s cries. When she would fly to find their food they would shiver with cold and when she nestled them under her wings they would scream for bugs and seeds and berries. Something must be done or her callow nestlings would perish. So with a sad heart she began to sing in melancholy note.

Fluttering upon the stump of a fallen tree she sang and an owl within a hollow stub nearby poked out his head and said, “Oh may I not be your helper and care for your nest?”

“Alas!” sighed Gonadjodjo in great distress, “it would never do for my young birds would die when they heard you.”

The owl drew back into his hole and Gonadjodjo sang again.

From another hollow tree came an answering call. “May I not be your helper?” screeched a night hawk.

“Ah, what would you say to comfort them?” said Ganojojo.

“I would say Hai‘´, hai‘´, hai‘´, hai‘´!”

“Oh no, no!” cried Ganodjodjo, “they would scream the worse.”

Flying to an open spot she sang again and a crow poking among the weeds paused and lifted his head as he heard the song. Then, with all compassion he said, “Oh, Ganodjodjo, I would like to help you.”

“Then what would you say to soothe my children?” sighed the unhappy bird.

“Ga! ga! ga! ga!” replied the crow, but Ganodjodjo cried in terror that his harsh hoarse voice was far too hoarse for her little ones, so, the crow croaked and strode on.

Winging her way to the top of a dead tree Ganodjodjo sang again her plaintive song. There was a whirr of wings and a bluejay alighted on the branch beside her.

“I will help you gladly,” said he.

“Well,” said the hapless Ganodjodjo shyly, for she was impressed with the gay bird at her side, “what would you say to my children?”

“In my softest voice I would say, “Di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, di’´, skil´lum, skil´lum!”

The sharp shrill cry of the bluejay made Ganodjodjo’s ears ache and fluttering to the ground half fainting she fell in a mouldering pile of leaves. Plaintively she sang her song again. The leaves on the ground a distance away began to tremble and rustle and then there was a faint sound of “tci´-wii‘, tci´-wii‘!” The disconsolate bird stopped short, and darting to the spot found her own lost mate.

“I have been stunned and bruised,” he said, “and only awoke when you called.”

She plucked him a red berry for medicine and then together they flew to their nest, he with unsteady wings but she in strong and happy flight.

Now there was a partridge^[46] woman who had a large family. She had a house under a big log and her house was hidden by plants. A good many people (animals) tried to find the partridge’s house because they wanted to eat her eggs or her children. Now one morning her children were all asleep and she was running about eating worms and seeds. At this time she smelled an enemy so she was alarmed for her children’s safety. Now then she sang a song to awaken them:

which meant that the skunk was prowling about and would soon find them if they did not scurry away. After a time they heard their mother’s song and ran into the bushes and she hid them in a safe place.

Now this is the partridge song and it is a good thing to sing it when you see or smell an enemy about a partridge’s house. It is good luck.