The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories by George Bird Grinnell New York; London: Harper & Brother Publishers [1901] Scanned, proofed and formatted September 2007, at sacred-texts.com by John Bruno Hare. This text is in the public domain in the US because it was published prior to 1923, and can be used for any purpose. Frontispiece: photograph of George Bird Grinnell The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. vii] Contents THE PUNISHMENT OF THE STINGY BLUEJAY, THE IMITATOR BLUEJAY VISITS THE GHOSTS THE GIRL WHO WAS THE RING THE FIRST CORN THE STAR BOY THE GRIZZLY BEAR'S MEDICINE THE FIRST MEDICINE LODGE THUNDER MAKER AND COLD MAKER THE BLINDNESS OF PI-WAP'-OK RAGGED HEAD NOTHING CHILD SHIELD QUIVER'S WIFE THE BEAVER STICK LITTLE FRIEND COYOTE The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. viii] Illustrations "THEN THEY WENT SEAWARD" "HE SAW A BALD-HEADED EAGLE" Facing p. "THE BIRD CAME DOWN" " "FIVE TIMES HE CIRCLED AROUND THEM" " "THERE WAS NO BOY THERE, ONLY A PILE OF BONES" " "ONLY BONES LAY THERE" " "ITS HEAD WAS SO HEAVY THAT IT THREW IT DOWN" " THE STICK GAME " SWINGING THE GIRL TO CALL THE BUFFALO " COYOTE HOLDS A COUNCIL OF WAR " "'I CAN TELL WHICH STICK IS THE NEARER'" " "SNORTED 'WHOOF,' AND BLEW RED DUST FROM HIS NOSTRILS" " "THEY COULD NOT HURT HIM" " THE CONFERENCE IN THE LODGE " "SU-YE-SAI-PI CLUNG TO HIM" " "'OH, LITTLE WOLF,' SHE CRIED" " The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. ix] The Stories and the Story-Tellers THE stories in this book deal with peoples of widely different surroundings and habit--some with dwellers on the sea-shore, whose skies are often obscured by rain and fog, who draw their living from the sea, and are at home on the water; and others with inhabitants of the high plains, where the air is pure and dry, and the summer sun is rarely hidden by clouds. As the Indians have no written characters, memorable events are retained only in the minds of the people, and are handed down by the elders to their children, and by these again transmitted to their children, so passing from generation to generation. Until recent years, one of the sacred duties of certain elders of the tribes was the handing down of these histories to their successors. As they repeated them, they [p. x] impressed upon the hearer the importance of remembering the stories precisely as told, and of telling them again exactly as he had received them, neither adding nor taking away anything. Thus early taught his duty, each listener strove to perform it, and to impress on those whom he in turn instructed a similar obligation. In transcribing stories such as these, care must be used to take down just what the narrator says. The stories must be reproduced as they are told; otherwise they lose that primitive flavor which is often one of their chief charms. In their true form they are full of human nature, full of unconscious suggestion as to how the primitive mind worked, and full also of hints as to the customs and life of the people in the old days. Seated by the flickering fire in Blackfoot skin-lodge, or in Pawnee dirt-house, or in sea-shore dwelling on the northwest coast, I have received these stories from the lips of aged historians, and have set them down here as I have heard them. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. xi] The Bluejay Stories ON the shores of the ocean which washes our northwest coast live many tribes of a hardy, seafaring people. Their houses stand along the beach just above high-water mark, and behind them the wooded mountains rise sharply. The waters at their feet yield them the chief share of their living. The salmon that each year come to the rivers to spawn, the great shoals of little herrings that visit the beach, the halibut that lie at the bottom far at sea, the seals, the sea-lions, the porpoises, and the whales, all provide something towards the tribe's support. Or, if for a while all these fail, there are flat-fish on the shoals, clams in the mud flats, and mussels clinging to the rocks. In the stories told by this race of seafarers, the incidents have to do with the common events of their lives, and the scenes are commonly laid [p. xii] on the water or at the water's edge. Thus they treat of the hunting of the sea-lion, of the catching of the salmon, most often of the search for food Most of the stories to be related here are very old, and date from a period when men and animals were far more closely related than they seem to be to-day; when, as the tales clearly show, each could understand the other's language, and when friendly intercourse between them was common. Although in recent years all the conditions of the lives of these people have changed, stories such as these may still be heard, if one can gain the confidence of the aged men and women who yet retain this legendary lore. In somewhat different form, the Bluejay Stories, in the original tongue, may be found in the Chinook Texts, collected by that eminent ethnologist, Dr. Franz Boas, whose studies of American tribes have yielded such important and valuable results. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 1] The Punishment of the Stingy A BLUE JAY STORY [p. 2] [p. 3] The Punishment of the Stingy AT Sea Side lived many people--a big village. Their houses were on the bank, and, below, the wide beach sloped down to the salt water. Under the bank the canoes rested on the beach above high-water mark. Beyond was the sea. One day the Chief of the village died. He had one son, a big boy just growing up to be a man. It was winter, and the people had hardly anything to eat. They looked along the beach for food cast up by the sea, but they could find nothing. They were hungry, and did not know what they should do. Mussels and roots were their only food. One day a hunter said to the men: "Everybody get ready; let us go out to sea. Perhaps there we may find something to eat; even if we kill nothing, we can at least gather mussels." [p. 4] So all the men got ready, and they started out to sea in two canoes. After they had gone some distance they came to a small island, and saw there some sea-lions, and the hunter speared one, and it jumped out to the water and swam strongly, and then it died and floated on the water. They dragged it up on the shore near by, and Bluejay said, "We will boil it here." So they made a fire there and singed it and cut it up and boiled it. Then Bluejay said: "Let us eat it here. Let us eat all of it, and not take any of it home with us." So these people ate there. The Raven wished to take home some of the meat to give to persons who were hungry, and hid a piece in his mat and carried it to the canoe, but Bluejay ran down and took the meat and threw it into the fire and burned it. After they had eaten all they wanted, they made ready to go home. They gathered mussels, large and small. In the evening they came to the village, and Bluejay called out to his wife, "Stikua, come and get your mussels." There was a noise of many feet as Stikua and the other women came running down to get their mussels, and carried them up to the houses. [p. 5] The Raven took care of the Chief's son. That night the boy said to him, "To-morrow I want to go with you." Bluejay said: "What are you going to do? The waves will carry you away. You will be washed away. I was almost washed away." Early the next morning the men made ready to go hunting again. They went down to the beach and got into the canoes, and the boy also went down to the beach. He intended to go with them, and as they were pushing off he tried to get into one of the canoes. Bluejay said to him: "Go up to the houses. Go up to the houses." The boy went, as he had been told, but he felt very sorry, and then Bluejay said, "Quick, let us leave him." The people began to paddle. At length they reached the land where they had been the day before. It was a rocky island. The hunter went ashore and speared a sea-lion. They hauled it to the shore and pulled it up on land, and then pulled it up away from the beach. Bluejay said, "We will eat it all here, or else our Chief's son will always be wanting to come with us." So now they singed the sea-lion, and cut it up and boiled it [p. 6] there. Then, when what they were cooking was ready, they ate plenty. The Raven tried to save one piece of the meat. He tied it in his hair, intending to hide it, but Bluejay took it out and threw it into the fire and burned it. When they started home they gathered mussels, and at evening they got home. Before they landed, Bluejay called out loud, "Come, Stikua, and get your mussels." There was a noise of feet running, and Stikua and her children came running to the beach with all the other women. Then they carried the mussels up to the houses. Bluejay said to the men who had been with him, "Do not tell the Chief's son, any of you, for if you do he will always go with us." That night the boy said, "To-morrow I am going with you"; and Bluejay said to him: "What are you going to do? You may drift away. You may be overwhelmed by the waves." The boy said, "I will go with you." On the third morning they rose early and went to the beach, and the boy also went to the beach, and took hold of the side of the canoe to get in. Bluejay said: "What are you doing here? Go to the houses." The boy cried, but [p. 7] he went back. Then Bluejay said to the others, "Quick, paddle; we will leave him behind." Then the people paddled away. At length they arrived at the rock of the sea -lions, and the hunter went ashore. He speared a large sea-lion, and pretty soon it floated dead on the water. They pulled it in to the shore and up on the beach, and then they hauled it up above the beach and singed and cut it up and boiled it there. When it was done they ate, and Bluejay said: "We will eat it all. We will not tell any one, for fear that our Chief's son should want to come with us." After all had eaten enough, a little meat was still left. The Raven tried to hide a piece of it. He tied it to his leg and put a bandage over it, and said that his leg was broken. Bluejay burned all the meat that was left over. He said to the Raven, "I want to see your leg." He seized the Raven's leg and untied it, and found the piece of meat that the Raven had tied to it and burned it. Towards evening they gathered mussels, and then they went home. When they were nearly at their home Bluejay called out, "Stikua, your mussels." There [p. 8] was a noise of feet, and Stikua and the women ran to the beach. They carried the mussels up from the beach and ate mussels all night. The boy said, "To-morrow, I think, I shall surely go along with you." Bluejay said to him: "What are you going to do? You will drift away. I should have drifted away twice if I had not caught hold of the canoe." Early the next morning they made themselves ready, and the boy got up and made himself ready. Then the people hauled their canoes down to the water and got into them. The boy tried to get into a canoe too, but Blue-jay took hold of him and threw him into the water. He stood in the water up to his waist. He took hold of the side of the canoe, but Blue-jay hit his hands to make him let go. For a long time he held on, and cried and cried, but at last he let go and went up to the house. Then Bluejay and the other people paddled away. After a while they reached the rock where the sea-lions lived, and the hunter went ashore and speared a sea-lion, and it jumped into the water and soon floated there dead. Then they towed it to the beach and pulled it up and singed it, and cut it up and boiled it. Bluejay "HE SAW A BALD-HEADED EAGLE" [p. 9] said, "We will eat it here." They ate for a long time and ate half of it, and then they were satisfied. They were so full that they went to sleep. After a while Bluejay awoke and burned all the meat that was left. Towards evening they gathered mussels and then started home. When they were near the shore, Bluejay called out to his wife, "Come and get your mussels, Stikua," and they heard the noise of feet running down to the shore. Then they carried up the mussels from the beach. That night the boy said, "To-morrow I shall go with you"; and Bluejay said to him: "What are you going to do? We may be thrown into the water and you may drown." Early the next morning the men made ready to start. The boy also got up and made himself ready. Then Bluejay and the people hauled the canoes down to the water and got into them. The boy tried to get into the canoe, but Blue-jay threw him into the water, and they pushed off. The boy caught hold of the side of the canoe and held it. He stood there in the water up to his armpits, and tried to get into the canoe, but Bluejay hit his hands and made him [p. 10] let go. The boy cried and cried. Bluejay and the people paddled away. After a little time the boy went up to the beach, feeling very sad, and trying to think what he should do. At last he went into the house and took his arrows and started, walking along the shore. He walked around a point, and saw a black eagle, and shot it. He skinned it and tried to put the skin on his body, but it was too small. It did not reach down as far as his knees. He took it off and left it there and went on. After a while he saw another eagle, and he shot it, and it fell down. Its head was partly white. He skinned it and put the skin on his body, but it was too small. It reached down only a little below his knees. Then he took it off and left it lying there, and went on a long way. At last he saw a bald-headed eagle. He shot it, and it fell down. Then he skinned it and put the skin on himself. Even this was too small, but it nearly fitted him. Then he tried to fly. At first he could only fly downward. He could not rise in the air. He tried again, and this time he found that he could turn, so he kept on trying, and pretty soon he could fly well. "THE BIRD CAME DOWN" [p. 11] Now he flew towards the village, and when he had come near to this point he smelled smoke, and in that smoke he smelled fat cooking. So before he got to the village he turned and flew out to sea, following the smell of the smoke. Pretty soon he came to the rock of the sea-lions, and there he saw the men of his village. He lit on a tree far off and watched them, looking down on them below. He saw that they were cooking, and when the meat was done he saw them eating. When they had nearly finished eating, he flew towards them, and he thought, "I wish Bluejay would see me." Bluejay did see the bird flying, and he said, "Ha! a bird is coming to get food from us." The boy flew around them once, and then again. Five times he circled around them, all the time coming lower. Bluejay took a piece of meat and threw it out, and said to the bird, "I give you this to eat; take it." The bird came down, and, grasping the piece of meat, flew away. Then Bluejay said, "Why, that bird has feet just like a person!" When Bluejay and the people had finished eating they went to sleep. Again the Raven hid a piece of meat. Towards evening Bluejay [p. 12] awoke, and then the people ate again, and afterwards Bluejay burned what they had left. Then they gathered mussels and started to go home. When they were close to the houses Bluejay called out, "Ah, Stikua, get your mussels." All the women ran down to the beach with a noise of feet, and carried up the mussels. When the boy got home he at once lay down. That evening the people tried to wake him, but he did not rise. The next morning, as soon as it became day, early, they began to get ready, and again they hauled their canoes into the water. The Chief's son still lay in bed. He did not try to go with them, and they started off. After a while the sun rose. Then the boy got up. He called together all the women and children and said to them: "Quick, wash yourselves. Hurry; don't be lazy." They all washed themselves. Then he said, "Quick, comb your hair." They did so. Then he put down a plank on the ground and took a piece of meat from under his blanket, and said to them, "All your husbands eat a great deal of this meat every day." He put two pieces of the meat side by side on the plank. "FIVE TIMES HE CIRCLED AROUND THEM." [p. 13] [paragraph continues] Then he cut off a piece of the meat and greased the heads of all the women and the children. Then he pulled out of the ground the wall planks of the houses and sharpened them. If a wall plank was wide, he split it. He sharpened all of them. The Raven's house was the last house in the village. He did not pull down its planks. He fastened the planks on the backs of the women, and said to the women, "Now go to the beach and swim towards the sea, and as you go, swim five times around that rock and then go out to sea. After this you shall be killer whales. When you find sea-lions you shall always kill them, but do not give any of them to stingy people. When you kill a good whale you shall eat it, but do not give any of it to stingy people. I shall take these children with me. They shall live on the sea and be my relations." Then he began to split sinews; he split a great many of them. He threw down the sinews that he had split on the stones where the people used to gather their mussels, and said to the mussels, "After this when Bluejay and these others go to take up you mussels, you shall always be tied fast to the rocks." [p. 14] Now the women went down to the water's edge and swam about, and began slowly to jump out of the water. Five times they swam backward and forward before the village; then they went seaward, swimming very fast. They kept on to the island where Bluejay and his fellows were cooking their food. Bluejay said to the men, "What is this that is coming?" The men looked at the things that were coming, and saw the women often jumping out of the water. Five times they swam around that rock, then they went out to sea. After a while birds came flying after them towards the sea--birds with red bills, just as if blood were on their beaks. They kept following one another, many of them. Bluejay said: "Do you see these birds, how they keep coming? Where do they come from?" Then the Raven said, "How is it that you do not recognize these as your children?" Five times the birds flew around the rock, just as the women had gone around it, and then they flew away out to sea. When Bluejay and his people were eating the meat that they had killed, that hunter said: "Quick, let us go home. I am afraid that we have seen bad spirits. We never before saw "THEN THEY WENT SEAWARD." [p. 15] anything like this at this rock." Then they gathered some mussels, and put in the canoes the meat that was left and carried it with them. Just at evening they came to the village, and Bluejay called out, "Ah, Stikua,, come and get your mussels." There was no noise of people running. Five times he called to her, but no one came. It was all still. They went up on the beach, and then they saw that no one was there, and that the walls of the houses had disappeared. Then they began to cry, and Blue-jay cried too. Some one said to him, "Be quiet, Bluejay; if you had not been bad, our Chief would not have done this to us." Now they made only one house for all; all lived together. Only the Raven, who had been kind-hearted, had a house to himself. He often went along the beach looking for food, and was lucky, for sometimes he found a sturgeon; or again he went along the beach looking for food and he found a porpoise. Bluejay often went along the beach trying to find food, but he was always unlucky, for he found nothing, and often, while he was looking, suddenly it would begin to hail--big hailstones. Often he went out to gather mussels and tried to break them [p. 16] off from the rocks, but he could not do it. They were stuck fast to the stones. So he gave up and went home. He cried a great deal. Often the Raven looked for food along the beach and found a seal. The others had nothing to eat except roots. Thus these men who had not brought food to their families had now lost their women and children, their houses had been pulled down and taken away, and they had nothing to eat. So their Chief punished them for being stingy. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 17] Bluejay, the Imitator [p. 18] [p. 19] Bluejay, the Imitator BLUEJAY and his elder sister Ioi, with her five children, lived together in a house by the sea beach. Every morning they went out to walk along the beach, to see what the tide had washed up during the night that was good to eat. Sometimes they found fish, or a seal, and sometimes a whale. Some days when they found nothing, they dug clams on the flat, but some days they could get no clams, and so they were hungry. Up and down the shore lived their neighbors. One day Bluejay said to his sister: "Let us go visiting; let us visit the Magpie." She said, "Let it be so. We will go." Early next morning they put their canoe in the water and paddled away, and when they came near the Magpie's house they saw him sitting on the roof. They landed, and went [p. 20] up to the house, and the Magpie came down from the roof, and all went inside and sat down. Bluejay and his sister sat there and looked all around, but they saw no food. After a little while the Magpie swept his house, and while he was sweeping it out he found one dry salmon egg. He put this in the feathers of his head. Then he made a fire and heated some stones. He filled a basket-work kettle with water, put the salmon egg in the water, then put the stones in the water, one after another, and covered the kettle. Soon the water was boiling, and when it had boiled a little while he took off the cover, and the kettle was full of boiled salmon eggs. The Magpie put the kettle before Bluejay and his sister, and said, "Eat, my friends; you must be hungry." They ate until they were satisfied, and still the kettle was half full. After a time they started to return to their house, taking with them the kettle with the food that was left. When they were about to start, his sister said to Bluejay, "You go down first to the beach." He said to her, "No, you go down first." So his sister went down first to the beach to get the canoe ready. [p. 21] Bluejay said to the Magpie, "To-morrow come and visit us and get your kettle and bring it back with you." The Magpie said, "It is good; I will go to visit you." Then Bluejay and his sister went home. The next morning, early, Bluejay went up on the roof of his house and sat there. After a time he called out to his sister, and said: "A canoe is coming." She answered: "It is coming, because you told him to come." Pretty soon, as they looked, they could see that it was the Magpie in the canoe, and at length he landed and pulled his canoe up on the beach and walked up to the house. Bluejay came down from the roof, and they went in and sat down. Soon Bluejay got up and swept his house, and found one dry salmon egg, which he put in his topknot. When he had finished sweeping his house, he built a fire and heated some stones and filled a basket-work kettle with water and put in it the salmon egg, and then the hot stones, and covered the kettle. He did everything just as the Magpie had done it. Soon the water boiled, and he took the cover off, but there was nothing in the kettle but hot water. The Magpie said, "Bluejay can do only one [p. 22] thing." He took the kettle and threw the stones out of it. Then he heated more stones, put a dry salmon egg in the water, put in the hot stones, and covered the kettle, and soon the water began to boil. Presently he took the cover off the kettle, and it was full of boiled salmon eggs. Then the Magpie went down to the beach and put his canoe in the water and paddled away to his home. After several nights Bluejay and his sister were hungry. Bluejay said: "Let us go visiting. Let us go and visit the Duck." "We will go to-morrow," said his sister. The next morning early they started and paddled away towards the Duck's house. After a while they came within sight of the house, and then landed on the beach and went up to the house. After they had sat a little while, the Duck said to her five children, "Go and wash yourselves." They went down to the beach and went into the water and washed themselves. Then they dived, and when each came to the top of the water it had a trout in its mouth. They put these on a mat on the beach. Ten times they dived, and by that time their mat was full of trout. They took [p. 23] them up to the house and made a fire and roasted them, and when the fish were cooked they gave them to Bluejay and his sister, and they ate part of them and were satisfied. Pretty soon the visitors got ready to go, taking with them the food that was left. Ioi said to her brother: "You go down first to the beach, or else you will talk ever so much." Bluejay answered her: "No, you go down first." So his sister went down first to get the canoe ready, and when she had gone, Bluejay said to the Duck: "Come to my house to-morrow and get your mat." The Duck said: "To-morrow I will go to visit you." Then Bluejay and his sister paddled away, and soon came to their house. Early next morning Bluejay got up and went up to the roof of the house. After he had been sitting there for some time, he called out to his sister: "A canoe is coming." She said to him: "It comes because you asked them to come." Pretty soon the Duck, with her five children, reached the beach, and after they had pulled the canoe out of the water, they went up to the house. After they had sat a while, Bluejay said to his sister's children: "Go and wash yourselves." [p. 24] The children went down to the beach and into the water and washed themselves. They tried to dive, but no matter how hard they might try their backs remained above the water. Ten times they tried to dive, and their feathers were all wet and clinging to them, and they were almost dead with cold. They came up to the house shivering, and not bringing anything with them. The Duck said: "Bluejay can do only one thing." Then she said to her children: "Go and wash yourselves. We will give them something to eat." The Duck's children went down to the beach and washed themselves. They dived ten times, and then their mat was full of trout. They brought them up to the house and threw them on the ground. Then the Ducks went home. Some little time after this Bluejay and his sister were again hungry. Bluejay said: "Let us go and visit Black Bear." Early the next morning they set out, and before noon they reached the Black Bear's house and went in and sat down. They looked around. No food was to be seen. Pretty soon the Bear built a fire and began [p. 25] to heat stones. Bluejay was wondering what food would be given them, and he said to his sister: "What will he give us to eat?" When the stones were hot the Bear took his knife and cut the soles from his feet, and cut a big piece of meat out of his thigh. Then he rubbed his hands over the wounds, and at once they were healed. Then he cut the flesh that he had taken from his feet and from his thigh into small pieces and put it in the kettle, and put the hot stones in the kettle and boiled it. When it was cooked he placed the kettle before them, and said to them: "Eat, my friends; you must be hungry." They ate, and pretty soon they were satisfied. When they were ready to go home Ioi said to her brother: "You go down first, or else you will be talking a great deal." Bluejay said: "No, you go down first." His sister went, and when she had gone Bluejay said to the Bear: "Come to-morrow and visit us." The Bear said he would do so; then Blue-jay and his sister went home to their house. Early the next morning Bluejay got up and made a fire, and went up on the roof of his house. After a while, he called out to his sister: "A canoe is coming," and she answered: [p. 26] [paragraph continues] "It comes because you invited him." Pretty soon the Bear paddled up to the beach and landed, and came up to the house, and they all sat down. Bluejay began to heat the stones in the fire and to get ready for cooking. When the stones were hot he sharpened his knife and began to cut his feet, but, oh, it hurt him very much. It hurt him so much that he fainted away. They blew on him until he recovered. The Bear said: "You can do only one thing, Bluejay." The Bear took his knife and slowly cut the soles off his feet. He cut a piece of flesh out of his thigh. Then he rubbed his hands over the wounds and immediately they were healed. Then he cut the flesh in small pieces and boiled it. When he had finished cooking and it was done, he threw it down before them, and went home to his house. Bluejay's feet were sore. After a number of nights they were again hungry. Then Bluejay said to his sister: "Let us go visiting again. To-morrow we will go and visit the Beaver." Early in the morning they started out, and before very long they reached the Beaver's house. The Beaver was on the roof of his house. He came down, and [p. 27] they went in and sat down. After a little while the Beaver went out and brought into the house a bundle of willow twigs, which he put down before them. Then he took a dish and went out and brought it back filled with mud. Bluejay and his sister could not eat these things,. and pretty soon they got ready to go home. As they were about to start, his sister said to him: "You go down first to the beach, or else you will talk a great deal." The Bluejay said to his sister: "No, you go down first." So she went down first to the beach. When she had gone Bluejay said: "Come to my house to-morrow to fetch your dish," and the Beaver answered: "I will come to-morrow." Early next morning Bluejay got up and made a fire, and went up on the roof of his house. After he had sat there for a while, he called out to his sister: "A canoe is coming." She answered: "It comes because you asked it to come." The Beaver landed and came up the beach and entered the house, and they all sat down. Bluejay went out of the house, and after he had been gone a little while he came back with a bunch of willow twigs, and he put them before the Beaver, who began to eat them, and [p. 28] soon ate them all up. Then Bluejay ran down to the beach and got some mud, which he put before the Beaver. The Beaver ate it all and went home. Not many days after this they were again hungry, and Bluejay said: "Let us go visiting again. To-morrow let us go to visit the Seal." Early the next morning they started, and at length they came to the house of the Seal. The Seal had five children. After they had been sitting a while in her house, the Seal said to her children: "Go to the beach and lie down there." They went down to the edge of the water and lay there. Then the Seal took a stick and went down there, too, and when she reached her children she struck the youngest one on the head and it lay there. She said to the others: "Dive down," and they did so, and when they came to the surface of the water there were five of them. Then she dragged up to the house the one that she had killed and singed it, and when she had finished singeing it she cut it up. She boiled it, and when it was cooked she gave it to Bluejay and his sister. They ate, and presently they were satisfied. When they were getting ready to go home his [p. 29] sister said to her brother: "You go down first." He answered: "No, you go down first. You always want to stay where they give us food." So his sister went down to the beach. Then Bluejay said to the Seal: "Come to-morrow and visit us, and fetch your kettle." The Seal said: "I shall come." Then Bluejay and his sister went home to their house. Early next morning Bluejay got up and went on to the roof of his house. After a while he called out to his sister: "A canoe is coming." She answered him: "It comes because you have asked them to come." The canoe came to the beach, and the Seal and her children landed and pulled the canoe up on the beach, and then came up to the house. Pretty soon Bluejay said to his sister's children: "Go to the beach and lie down there." The children went and lay down at the edge of the water. Bluejay took a stick and went down and struck the youngest one on the head. Then he said to the other children: "Quick now, dive." They dived, but when they came up there were only four. Five times they dived, but the one that Bluejay had struck remained dead. Then Ioi and her children cried for the dead one. [p. 30] The Seal said: "Bluejay only knows how to do one thing." She struck one of her daughters on the head with a stick, and said to the others: "Quick, dive." They dived, and when they came up again all five of them were there. Then she singed her daughter and when she had finished singeing her she cut her up and threw her down before Bluejay and his sister, saying: "You may eat this." Then they tied up and buried the dead child, and the Seals went home. After a time these two were again hungry, and Bluejay said: "Let us go and visit the Shadows." His sister said: "We will go tomorrow." Early next morning they started, and at last they reached the home of the Shadows and went up to the house. It was full of food, and on the beds there were lying ornaments, clothing, coats, blankets of deer skin, of mountain-goat wool, and of ground-hog skin. Bluejay said to his sister: "Where are these people?" His sister answered: "They are here, but you cannot see them." Bluejay took up one of the large ear ornaments. "Look out! You are pulling my ear, Bluejay!" cried a person. Bluejay was surprised, [p. 31] for he saw no one, and he dropped the ear ornament. Then they heard many people laughing. He took hold of a ground-hog blanket, and pulled at it. "Let go of my ground-hog blanket, Bluejay," said a person, but he could see no one. He looked under the bed for the one who had spoken, and again they heard people laughing. He took up a coat made of goat wool, and somebody cried out, "Why do you lift my coat, Bluejay?" He took hold of a nose ornament, and a person cried, "Let go of my nose ornament, Bluejay." Then a basket fell down from above. He lifted it up and put it back. Then he began to look under the bed and all through the house for persons, and again they heard many people laughing. His sister said to him: "Stay here quietly. They are Shadows, and so you cannot see them." They ate some of the food. When it got dark Bluejay said, "We will sleep here." So they slept there during the night, but all through the night they had bad dreams, for so the Shadows punished Bluejay, because he had teased them. Then Bluejay and his sister went home, and his sister said, "Now we have gone visiting enough." The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 32] [p. 33] Bluejay Visits the Ghosts [p. 34] [p. 35] Bluejay Visits the Ghosts IN a certain village there lived Ioi and her younger brother, Bluejay. One night the ghosts went out to buy a wife. They bought Ioi. The presents they gave for her were not sent back; they were kept. So at night she was married, and when day came Ioi was gone from her father's house. For a long time Bluejay did nothing; but at length he felt lonely, and after a year had passed he said, "I am going to look for my elder sister." He started for the country of the ghosts, and on his way he began to ask every one whom he saw, "Where does a person go when he dies?" He asked all the trees, but they could not tell him. He asked all the birds, but they could not tell him. At last he asked a Wedge, and the Wedge said, "If you will pay me, I will carry you. there." He [p. 36] paid, and the Wedge carried him to the country of the ghosts. They came to a large village, but no smoke rose from the houses; only from the last house--a big one--they saw smoke rising. Bluejay went into this house, and there he saw his elder sister. She said to him: "Ah, my younger brother, where do you come from? Are you dead?" He answered, "No, I am not dead; the Wedge brought me here on its back." After a little Bluejay went out and walked through the village, and began to open the doors of the houses and to look into them; and when he looked into them he did not find people in any of the houses, but only bones. Then he came back to where his elder sister was. On the bed near where his sister was sitting lay a skull and some bones. He asked her, "What are you going to do with that skull and those bones?" She said to him, "That is my husband, your brother-in-law." Bluejay did not believe her; he said to himself: "Ioi is telling lies. She says a skull and bones is my brother-in-law!" When it got dark people began to appear, and soon the house was full. It was a large [p. 37] house, but there were many people in it. Blue-jay said to his elder sister, "Where have all these people come from?" She answered him: "Do you think that they are people? They are ghosts. They are ghosts." Now these people always spoke in whispers, and Bluejay could not hear what they said, and did not understand them. He stayed a long time with his elder sister. One day she said to him: "Why do you not do as they do? Go fishing with them, with your dip-net." He said, "I will do so." When it got dark he made ready to go, and a boy also made ready. His sister said: "This is your brother-in-law's relation. You two had better go together. Do not speak much to him. Keep silent." They put their canoe in the water and started, and as they were paddling down the river they saw ahead of them some people, also going down the river in a canoe and singing. When they had almost overtaken them Blue-jay began to sing too, joining in their song, and at once the people were silent. He looked back at the boy in the stern of the canoe, but now there was no boy there, only a pile of [p. 38] bones. The noise Bluejay made caused the boy to disappear, and only bones were left. Now, as they floated down the stream, Bluejay sat silent, and was wondering what all this meant, and pretty soon when he looked back at the stern of the canoe the boy was sitting there again. Bluejay said to him, speaking slowly and in a low voice, "Where is your fishing-fence?" The boy answered, "It is beyond here, down the stream." They went on farther; then Bluejay said out loud and suddenly, "Where is your fishing-fence?" Only bones were in the stern of the canoe. Again Bluejay was silent, and when he next looked back the boy was again in the canoe. Blue-jay again spoke to him in low tones, and said, "Where is your fishing-fence?" The boy answered, "Here." Now they began to fish, Bluejay using the dip-net, while the boy held the canoe. Soon Bluejay felt something in his net and raised it, but only two dead branches were in it. He threw them out, and again put his net into the water. Again he felt something in it and raised it, and it was full of leaves. He threw them out, but a part of the leaves fell in the canoe, "THERE WAS NO BOY THERE, ONLY A PILE OF BONES" [p. 39] and the boy gathered them up. Again he caught a branch and threw it out into the water; again he caught some leaves and threw them out, but a part of them fell in the canoe. The boy gathered them up. Again he caught two branches--both large ones. He was pleased with these branches, and said to himself, "I will take these back to Ioi; she can use them to build her fire." At length they turned back and went homeward and reached the village. Bluejay was angry because he had caught nothing. When they went up from the beach to the houses the boy was carrying a mat full of trout. After the trout were roasted and the people were eating them, the boy talked a great deal, saying: "He threw out of the canoe all that he had caught. If he had not thrown it away, our canoe would have been almost full." His elder sister said to Bluejay, "Why did you throw away what you had caught?" "I threw away what I caught because they were branches," said Bluejay. His sister said: "Do you think they were branches? That is our food. When you caught leaves, those were trout. When you caught branches, those were [p. 40] fall salmon." Bluejay did not believe this. He said to her: "I brought home to you two branches. You can use them to make your fire." His sister went to the beach and found two fall salmon in the canoe. She took them up to the house and went in, carrying them in her hand. Bluejay said to her, "Where did you steal those fall salmon, Ioi?" She answered, "These are what you caught." Blue-jay said to himself, "Ioi keeps telling lies to me all the time." When day came Bluejay went down to the water's edge, to the beach. There on the beach were the canoes of the ghosts. They were old and full of holes, and partly grown over with moss. He went up to the house and said to his sister, "How bad your husband's canoes are, Ioi." She answered, "After this keep quiet, or the people will get tired of you." But he repeated, "The canoes of these people are full of holes." She said to him, angrily: "People? people? They are ghosts." When it again grew dark Bluejay again made himself ready, and the boy got ready, and they went fishing. Now Bluejay teased that boy. As they were going along he shouted, and only "ONLY BONES LAY THERE" [p. 41] bones were in the canoe. He did this several times, but at last they reached the fishing-place, and began to fish with the dip-net. Now Blue-jay took into the canoe all the branches that he caught, and all the leaves, and when the tide began to fall their canoe was full, and they started homeward. Now he began to tease the ghosts, and when they met one he shouted, and only bones were in the canoe. At last they reached home, and he carried up to his sister's house part of what he had caught. She also carried up a part--salmon of two kinds. The next morning when it became day he went through the village again, and he found many bones in those houses. It got dark, and some one said, "A whale has been found." His elder sister gave him a knife, and said to him, "Quick, run! a whale has been found." Then Bluejay ran fast, and when he reached the beach he met some of those people. He called out to them in a loud voice, asking them, "Where is this whale?" Only bones lay where the people had stood. He kicked the skulls out of the way and ran on a long distance, and met some other people. Again [p. 42] he called out loudly to them; only bones lay there. He did this several times. At last he came to a big log, thrown up on the beach--a big log with thick bark--and many people were at work peeling off that bark. Bluejay shouted. Only bones lay there. That bark was full of pitch. Bluejay began to peel it off. He peeled off two pieces and put them on his shoulder and went home. As he was going along he said to himself, "I thought it was really a whale, but it is only a fir-tree." He kept on, and at last he reached the house. Outside the door he threw down the bark and went in. He said to his elder sister, "I thought it was really a whale, but you see it is only bark." His elder sister said to him: "It is whale, it is whale. Do you think it is bark?" She went outside, and there two cuts of whale meat lay on the ground. Ioi said, "It is a good whale; its blubber is very thick." Bluejay looked at it. Now he believed that a whale lay on the beach. He turned back and met a person who was carrying bark on his back. Bluejay shouted, and only bones lay there. He took the piece of bark and put it on his shoulder and carried it home. In this way he treated "ITS HEAD WAS SO HEAVY THAT IT THREW IT DOWN" [p. 43] all these ghosts, and after a while he had a great deal of whale meat. Bluejay continued to live there. One day he went into a house in the village and took a child's skull and put it on the bones of a grownup person. He took the large skull and put it on the child's bones. Thus he did to all these people. When night came the child sat up, intending to rise to its feet, but it fell over. Its head was so heavy that it threw it down. The old man got up. His head was light. The next morning when it became day he changed these heads back again. Sometimes he changed the legs of the ghosts, so that he gave small legs to an old man and large legs to a child. Sometimes he gave a man's legs to a woman, and a woman's legs to a man. After a time the ghosts began to dislike him. Ioi's husband said to her: "These people dislike Bluejay because he treats them in this way. It will be good for you to tell him to go away to his home, for now people do not like him." Ioi tried to stop her younger brother, but he would not listen to her. Now again when it became day Bluejay arose early. Ioi had in her arms a skull. Bluejay threw it away, saying, "Why does she hold [p. 44] that skull in her arms?" She said to him, "Ah! you have broken your brother-in-law's neck." It became night, and his brother-in-law was sick. His relations tried to cure him, and pretty soon the brother-in-law got well. Now Bluejay started to go to his home. But as he was going home he got caught in a fire, and was burned and died. Then he started back for the country of the ghosts. When he came to the river he called out to his elder sister, and she said, "Ah, my brother is dead." She put her canoe into the water and went across the river to fetch him. When she reached him he said to her, "Your canoe is pretty, Ioi." She said to him, "You used to say that canoe was grown over with moss." Bluejay thought: "Ioi is always telling lies to me. The other canoes had holes and were moss-covered." She said to him, "You are dead now; that makes the difference." Bluejay thought, "Ioi keeps telling lies to me." Soon she carried him to the other side of the river, and he saw the people. They were playing games--dice and the ring game--and dancing--tum, tum, tum, tum--and singing. Bluejay wanted to go to these singers. He tried [p. 45] to sing and to call out loud, but they laughed at him. Then he went into his brother-in-law's house. There sat a chief, a good-looking man; it was Ioi's husband. Ioi said, "And you broke his neck." Bluejay thought, "Ioi keeps telling me lies." "Where did these canoes come from? They are pretty." Ioi answered, "And you said they were moss-grown." Bluejay thought: "Ioi is always telling lies. The others were full of holes, and were partly overgrown with moss." "You are dead now," said his sister; "that makes the difference." Then Bluejay gave it up and became quiet. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 46] [p. 47] The Girl Who Was the Ring [p. 48] [p. 49] The Girl Who Was the Ring [**] BY the bank of a river stood a lodge, which lived four brothers and their sister. The boys made arrows. To the branch of a tree in front of the lodge they had hung a rawhide strap, such as women use for carrying wood, so as to make a swing for the girl. Whenever their meat was all gone and they began to get hungry, the girl used to send her brothers into the timber to cut dogwood shoots to make arrows. When the arrows were ready, she would get into the swing and the boys would swing her. As the swing moved, they [p. 50] would see dust rising all around the horizon, and would know that the Buffalo were coming. Then all four boys would take their bows and arrows, and stand about the swing so as to protect the girl and not let the Buffalo come near her. When the Buffalo had come close, the boys would kill them in a circle all about the swing. They would quickly carry the girl into the lodge, and would kill so many Buffalo that the rest would be frightened and run away. So they would have plenty to eat, and the dried meat would be piled high in the lodge. One day the boys went out to get wood for arrows, and left the girl in the lodge alone. While they were away a Coyote came to the lodge and talked to the girl. He said to her: "Granddaughter, I am very poor, and I am THE STICK GAME [p. 51] very hungry. I have no meat in my lodge, and my children also are hungry. I told my relations that I was coming to ask you for food, and they have been laughing at me. They said, 'Your granddaughter will not give you anything to eat.'" The girl answered him: "Grandfather, here is plenty of meat. This house is full of it. Take what you want. Take the fattest pieces. Take it to your children. Let them eat." The Coyote began to cry. He said: "Yes, my relations laughed at me when I said I was going to visit you and ask you for something to eat. They said you would not give me anything. I do not want any dried meat--I want some fresh meat to take to my children. Have pity on me, and let me put you in the swing, so as to bring the Buffalo. I do not want to swing you hard so as to bring the Buffalo in great herds. I want to swing you only a little so as to bring a few Buffalo. I have a quiver full of arrows to keep the Buffalo off." The girl said: "No, grandfather, I cannot do this. My brothers are away. Without them we can do nothing." Then the Coyote slapped his breast and said: [p. 52] [paragraph continues] "Look at me. Am I not a man and strong? I can run around you fast, after you are in the swing, and I can keep the Buffalo off. I can shoot clear through a Buffalo. I have plenty of arrows, and I need only use a single one for each Buffalo. Come on, I want to swing you just a little, so that but few Buffalo will come." So he coaxed the girl, but still she refused. After he had begged her for a long time, she agreed to let him swing her a little, and got in the swing. He began to swing her, at first gently, but all at once he pushed her very hard, and kept doing this until she swung high. She screamed and cried, and tried to get off the swing, but it was now too late. All around--from all sides--the Buffalo were coming in great crowds. The Coyote had made ready his arrows, and was running around the girl, trying to kill the Buffalo and keep them off, but they crowded upon him--so many that he could do nothing--and at last he got frightened and ran into the lodge. The Buffalo were now just all over the ground about the lodge, and suddenly one of the young Bulls, the leader of a big band, as he passed SWINGING THE GIRL TO CALL THE BUFFALO [p. 53] under the swing, threw up his head, and the girl disappeared, but the Coyote, peeping out of the lodge door, saw on the horn of this Bull a ring, and then he knew that this ring was the girl. Then the Bull ran away fast, and all the Buffalo ran after him. When the Buffalo had gone, the Coyote came out of the lodge and saw that the girl was not there. He did not know what to do. He was frightened. Pretty soon he heard the girl's brothers coming. They had seen the dust, and knew that some one was swinging their sister, and that the Buffalo had come. They hurried back, running fast, and when they reached the lodge they found the Coyote just dragging himself out of a mud-hole. He crawled out, crying, and pretended that the Buffalo had run over him and trampled him. His bow and arrows were in the mud. He told the brothers his story and said that he had tried hard to save the girl, but that he had not known that so many Buffalo would come. He said he had thought that the girl must be swung high, so that the Buffalo could see her from a long way off. The brothers felt very sorry that their sister [p. 54] was lost. They counselled together to see what they should do, trying to decide what would be the best plan to get her back again. While they were talking about this, the Coyote, with all the mud upon him, stood before them and said: "Brothers, do not feel sorry because your sister is lost. I will get her back again. Live on just as you always do. Do not think about this. Do not let it trouble you. I will get her back again." After he had spoken thus, he said, "Now I am going to start off on the war-path," and he left them and went away. He journeyed on alone considering what he should do, and at length, as he was travelling along over the prairie, he met a Badger, who said to him, "Brother, where are you going?" The Coyote said: "I am going on the warpath against my enemies. Will you join my party?" The Badger said, "Yes, I will join you." They went on. After they had gone a long way, they saw a Swift Hawk sitting on the limb of a tree by a ravine. He asked them where they were going, and they told him, and asked him if he would go with them. He said he would go. After a time they met a Kit Fox, and asked him to join them, and he did COYOTE HOLDS A COUNCIL OF WAR [p. 55] so. Then they met a Jack Rabbit, who said he would go with them. They went on, and at length they met a Blackbird, and asked him to join them. He said: "Let it be so. I will go" Soon after they had all got together they stopped and sat down, and the Coyote told them how the girl had been lost, and said that he intended to try to get her back. Then they talked, and the Coyote told them the plan that he--the leader--had made. The others listened, and said that they would do whatever he told them to do. They were all glad to help to recover the girl. Then they all stood up and made ready to start, and the Coyote said to the Blackbird, "Friend, you stay here until the time comes." So the Blackbird remained there where they had been talking, and the others went on. After they had gone some distance farther, the Coyote told the Hawk to stop and wait there. He did so. The others went on a long way, and then the Coyote said to the Rabbit, "You stay here." The others went on, and at the next stopping-place he left the Kit Fox; and at the next--last of all--he left the Badger. [p. 56] [paragraph continues] Then the Coyote went on alone and travelled a long way, and at length he came to the Buffalo camp. He went out to the place where the young Bulls used to play the stick game, and lay down there. It was early in the morning. After a time some of the young Bulls came out, and began to roll the ring and to throw their sticks at it. The Coyote now pretended to be very sick. His hair was all covered with mud, and his tongue hung out of his mouth, and he staggered about and fell down and then got up again, and seemed to feel badly. Sometimes he would get over near to where the ring was being rolled, and then the young Bulls would call out: "Here, hold on! Get away there! Don't get in the way." After a little while the Coyote pretended that he felt better, and he got up and went over to where the young Bulls were sitting, looking on at the game, and sat down with them, and watched the play with the others. Every now and then two of the young Bulls would begin to dispute over the game, each saying that his stick was the nearer to the ring, and sometimes they would wrangle for a long time. Once, [p. 57] while they were doing this, the Coyote went up to them and said: "Here! You men need not quarrel about this. Let me look. I know all about this game. I can tell which stick is the nearer." The Bulls stopped talking and looked at him, and then said: "Yes, let him look. Let us hear what he says." Then the Coyote went up to the ring and looked, and said, pointing: "That stick is nearest. That man has won." The Bulls looked at each other, and nodded their heads and said: "He knows. He is right." The next time they had a dispute, he decided it again, and all were satisfied. At length two of the young Bulls had a very fierce dispute, and almost came to fighting over it. The Coyote came up and looked, and said: "This is very close. I must look carefully, but I cannot see well if you are all crowding around me in this way. I must have room. You would all better go over to that hill, and sit down there and wait for me to decide." The Bulls all went over to the hill and sat down, and then the Coyote began to look. First he would go to one stick and look carefully, and then he would go to the other and look. The sticks were about the same distance from [p. 58] the ring, and for a long time it seemed that he could not make up his mind which was the nearer. He went backward and forward, looking at the sticks, and stooping down and putting his hands on his knees and squinting, and at last, when once his face was close to the ground, he suddenly snatched up the ring in his mouth, and started, running as hard as he could, for the place where he had left the Badger. As soon as he had started, all the Bulls on the hill saw what he was doing--that he was taking the ring away from them--and they started after him. They did not want to lose the ring, for it was very useful to them, and they played with it all the time. When the Buffalo in the camp saw that the young Bulls had started, they all followed, so that soon all the Buffalo were rushing after the Coyote. He ran fast, and for a long time he kept ahead of the Buffalo, but they followed, a great mass of Buffalo crowding and pushing, running as hard as they could run. At last the Coyote was beginning to get tired, and was running more slowly, and the Buffalo were beginning to catch up to him, but he was getting near to where the Badger was. After a time "'I CAN TELL WHICH STICK IS THE NEARER'" [p. 59] the Buffalo were getting nearer to the Coyote. He was very tired, and it seemed to him as if he could not run any farther. If he did not soon get to where he had left the Badger, the Buffalo would run over him and trample him to death, and get back the ring. At length, when they were close behind him, he ran over the top of a little hill, and down in the valley below saw the Badger sitting at the mouth of his hole. The Coyote raced down the hill as fast as he could, and when he got to the hole he gave the ring to the Badger, and just as the herd of Buffalo got to the place, they both dived down into the hole. The Buffalo crowded about the Badger's hole, and began to paw the ground, to dig it up so as to get the Coyote and the ring, but the Badger had dug a hole a long way under the ground, and while the Buffalo were digging he ran along through this hole and came out far off, and ran as hard as he could towards the brothers' lodge. Before he had gone very far, some of the Buffalo on the outside of the herd saw him, and called out to the others: "There he is! There he goes!" Then all the Buffalo started again and ran after the Badger. [p. 60] [paragraph continues] When they had come pretty close to him, he would stop running and dig another hole, and while the Buffalo were crowding around the hole, trying to dig him out, he would dig along under the ground, until he had got far beyond them, and would then come to the top of the ground, and run as fast as he could towards the lodge. Then the Buffalo would see him and follow him. In this way he went a long distance, but at length he got tired and felt that he could not run or dig much farther. He was almost spent. At last, when he dug out of the ground, he saw not far off the Kit Fox, lying curled upon a rock, asleep in the sun. He called out: "Oh, my brother, I am almost tired out! Help me!" The Kit Fox jumped up and ran to him and took the ring in his mouth and started running, and the Badger dug a deep hole, and stayed there. The little Fox ran fast, gliding along like a bird; and the Buffalo, when they saw him running, chased him and ran hard. The Kit Fox is a swift animal, and for a long time he kept ahead of the Buffalo. When he was almost tired out, he came to where the Rabbit was, and gave him the ring, and ran [p. 61] into a hole, and the Rabbit ran on. The Buffalo followed the Rabbit, but he ran fast and kept ahead of them for a long time. When they had almost caught him, he came to where the Hawk was sitting. The Hawk took the ring in his claws and flew off with it, and the Rabbit ran off to one side and hid in the long grass. The Buffalo followed the Hawk, and ran after him. They seemed never to get tired. The Hawk, after he had been flying a long time, began to feel very weary. He would sail down low over the Buffalo's backs, and was only just able to keep above them. At last he got near to where the Blackbird was. When the Blackbird heard the pounding of many hoofs and knew that the Buffalo were coming, he flew up on a sunflower stalk and waited. When the Buffalo came to the place where he was, he flew up over them to the Hawk, and took the ring on his neck, and flew along over the Buffalo. The ring was heavy for so small a bird, and he would alight on the backs of the Buffalo and fly from one to another. The Buffalo would toss their heads and try to hit him with their horns, but he kept flying from one to another, and the [p. 62] [paragraph continues] Buffalo behind were always pushing forward to get near the ring, and they pushed the other Buffalo ahead of them. Pretty soon the herd passed over a hill and were rushing down to the place on the river where the brothers' lodge stood. Ever since their sister had been lost, the brothers had been making arrows, and now they had piles of them stacked up about the lodge. When they saw the Buffalo coming they got their bows and took their arrows in their hands, and shot and shot until they had killed many, many Buffalo, and the rest were frightened and ran away. The Blackbird had flown into the lodge with the ring, and after the brothers had finished killing, they went into the lodge. And there, sitting by the fire and smiling at them as they came in, they saw their sister. Footnotes ^49:* Of all the games played by men among the Pawnee Indians, none was so popular as the stick game. This was an athletic contest between pairs of young men, and tested their fleetness, their eyesight, and their skill in throwing the stick. The implements used were a ring six inches in diameter, made of buffalo rawhide, and two elaborate and highly ornamented slender sticks, one for each player. One of the two contestants rolled the [p. 50] ring over a smooth prepared course, and when it had been set in motion the players ran after it side by side, each one trying to throw his stick through the ring. This was not often done, but the players constantly hit the ring with their sticks and knocked it down, so that it ceased to roll. The system of counting was by points, and was somewhat complicated, but in general terms it may be said that the player whose stick lay nearest the ring gained one or more points. In this story, the Buffalo by their mysterious power transformed the girl into a ring, which they used in playing the stick game. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 63] The First Corn [p. 64] [p. 65] The First Corn A LONG time ago there lived in the Pawnee village a young man who was a great gambler. Every day he played at sticks, and he was almost always unlucky. Sometimes he would lose everything that he had, and would even lose things belonging to his father. His father had often scolded him about gambling, and had told him that he ought to stop it. There were two things that he never staked; these two things were his shield and his lance. One day he played sticks for a long time, and when he got through he had lost everything that he had except these two things. When he went home at night to his father's lodge he told his relations what he had done, and his father said to him: "My son, for a long time you have been doing this, and I have many times spoken [p. 66] to you about it. Now I have done. I cannot have you here any longer. You cannot live here in my lodge or in this village. You must go away." The young man thought about it for a little while, and then he said: "Well, I will go. It does not make much difference where I am." So he took his shield and his spear and went out of the lodge and started to go away from the village. When he got outside of the village and had gone some distance, he heard behind him a loud rushing sound like a strong wind--the sound kept getting nearer and louder--and all at once it was above him, and then the sound stopped, and something spoke to him and said: "Well, I am here. I have come to find you. I have been sent, and am here on purpose to get you and take you with me." The voice that spoke to him was the Wind. The Wind took the young man up and carried him away towards the west. They travelled many days, and passed over broad prairies and then across high mountains and then over high, wide plains and over other mountains until they came to the end of the world, where [p. 67] the sky bends down and touches the ground. The last thing the young man saw was the gate through the edge of the sky. A great buffalo bull stands in this gateway and blocks it up. He had to move to one side to let the Wind and the young man pass through. Every year one hair drops from the hide of this bull. When all have fallen the end of the world will come. After they had passed through this gate they went on, and it seemed as if they were passing over a big water. There was nothing to be seen except the sky and the water. At last they came to a land. Here were many people--great crowds of them. The Wind told the young man, "These are all waiters on the Father." They went on, and at last came to the Father's lodge and went in. When they had sat down the Father spoke to the young man and said to him: "My son, I have known you for a long time and have watched you. I wanted to see you, and that is why I gave you bad luck at the sticks, and why I sent my Wind to bring you here. Your people are very hungry now because they can find no buffalo, but I am going to give you something on which you can [p. 68] live, even when the buffalo fail." Then he gave him three little sacks. The first contained squash seed; the second beans, red and white, and the third corn, white, red, blue, and yellow. The Father said: "Tie these sacks to your shield, and do not lose them. When you get back to your people give each one some of the seeds and tell him to put them in the ground; then they will make more. These things are good to eat, but the first year do not let the people eat them; let them put the yield away, and the next year again put it in the ground. After that they can eat a part of what grows, but they must always save some for seed. So the people will always have something to eat with their buffalo meat, and something to depend on if the buffalo fail." The Father gave him also a buffalo robe, and said to him: "When you go back, the next day after you have got there, call all the people together in your lodge, and give them what is in this robe, and tell them all these things. Now you can go back to your people." The Wind took the young man back. They travelled a long time, and at last they came to [p. 69] the Pawnee village. The Wind put the young man down, and he went into his father's lodge and said, "Father, I am here"; but his father did not believe him, and said, "It is not you." He had been gone so long that they had thought him dead. Then he said to his mother, "Mother, I am here," and his mother knew him and was glad that he had returned. At this time the people had no buffalo. They had scouted far and near and could find none anywhere, and they were all very hungry. The little children cried with hunger. The next day after he got back, the young man sent out an old man to go through the camp and call all the people to come to his father's lodge. When they were there, he opened his robe and spread it out, and it was covered with pieces of fat buffalo meat piled high. The young man gave to each person all he could carry, but while he was handing out the pieces, his father was trying to pull off the robe the hindquarters of the buffalo and hide them. He was afraid that the young man might give away all the meat, and he wanted to save this for their own lodge. But the young man said: "Father, [p. 70] do not take this away. Do not touch anything. There is enough." After he had given them the meat he showed them the sacks of seed and told them what they were for, and explained to them that they must not eat any the first year, but that they must always save some to plant, and the people listened. Then he said to them: "I hear that you have no buffalo. Come out to-morrow and I will show you where to go for buffalo." The people wondered where this could be, for they had travelled far in all directions looking for buffalo. The next day they went out as he had told them, and the young man sent two boys to the top of a high hill close to camp, and told them to let him know what they saw from it. When the boys got to the top of the hill, they saw down below them in the hollow a big band of buffalo. When the people learned that the buffalo were there, they all took their arrows and ran out and chased the buffalo and made a big killing, so that there was plenty in the camp and they made much dried meat. Four days after this he again sent out the boys, and they found buffalo. Now that they had plenty of [p. 71] meat they stayed in one place, and when spring came the young man put the seed in the ground. When the people first saw these strange plants growing they wondered at them, for they were new and different from anything that they had ever seen growing on the prairie. They liked the color of the young stalks, and the way they tasselled out, and the way the ears formed. They found that besides being pretty to look at they were good to eat, for when the young man had gathered the crop he gave the people a little to taste, so that they might know that the words that he had spoken were true. The rest he kept for seed. Next season he gave all the people seed to plant, and after that they always had these things. Later, this young man became one of the head men and taught the people many things. He told them that always when they killed buffalo they must bring the fattest and offer them to the Father. He taught them about the sacred bundles, and told them that they must put an ear of corn on the bundles and must keep a piece of fat in the bundles along with the corn, and that both must be kept out of sight. In the fall they should take the ear [p. 72] of corn out of the bundle and rub the piece of fat over it. [**] Thus they would have good crops and plenty of food. All these things the people did, and it was a help to them in their living. Footnotes ^72:* Cf. The Story of the Indian, p. 194, and The Indians of To-day, p. 43. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 73] The Star Boy [p. 74] [p. 75] The Star Boy ONE hot night in summer two girls climbed up on an arbor in front of an earth lodge to sleep where it was cool. As they lay there before they went to sleep, they were talking about the different stars that they saw in the sky above them, saying how pretty they were. One of the girls saw a bright star, and pointed to it and said: "I like that one best of all. I choose it for mine." After a little while the girls went to sleep. When this girl that had chosen the star awoke, she was in a strange country, and saw strange people about her. She cried, and wanted to go back to her home, but the man in whose lodge she was told her that he was the star she had said she liked, and that, as she had chosen him, he had taken her for his wife. Finally, she [p. 76] got over feeling badly and was content to stay with him. Every day when the evening came he would get ready for his journey. He would comb his hair and paint his face red, and then start out to travel. When it was morning he would be back again. About three years after this the girl had a baby boy. One day after this she went out to dig roots. Her husband had told her not to dig too deep in the ground, and for a long time she was careful, but one day she dug too deep and dug through that ground. There before her was a hole, through which she could look down and see this world below her. She could see a camp, and near it a party of men playing the stick game. They were very small and looked like ants. She looked at them and looked at them for a long time, and then suddenly she felt that she wanted to go back to where she had come from, and wanted again to see her people--the Pawnees. After she had thought about this for a long time, she went home and asked her husband to bring her a lot of sinews. He brought them to her, and from the sinews she began to make a [p. 77] rope. It took her a long time to make the rope, and in making it she used all the sinews that she had. After she had finished it, she waited until her man had gone out on his journey, and then put her child on her back and went to the hole, carrying the rope of sinew. She took with her also a long stake, and drove it into the ground near the hole. To this stake she tied the rope, and then let it down through the hole. It seemed to her that it did not reach the ground, but she thought that perhaps it reached almost down to it, and she made up her mind that she would try to descend. All around the hole she dug the earth away so as to make it large enough for her body to pass through. Then she put her child on her back, and let herself slide down by the rope. For a long time she went down, and at last she came to the end of the rope, but it did not nearly reach the ground. That was far below her. She clung to the rope, crying, for she was afraid to let go and no one came to help her, for there was no one near to hear. It was a long way to the camp. After a time the woman's husband came back to their lodge and found that his wife was gone. [p. 78] [paragraph continues] He looked for her everywhere, but could see nothing of her. At last he found the hole that she had dug, and when he looked down through it he saw her there hanging to the rope. Then he was angry. He looked about on the ground for a stone just the size of the hole, and dropped it through, and it fell on the woman's head and killed her, but by his power the Star Man took care of the little child so that when it fell to the ground it was not hurt. When the woman fell the boy crawled out from under her. He stayed there by his mother three days. Every now and then he would start to go off somewhere, and would go a little way, and then would come back to his mother and try to rouse her; but she was dead. The fourth day he started to go off a long way, and as he was going along he came to a patch of corn and squashes, and he walked among the corn and pulled some ears and ate them. Near by this field was a poor little lodge, in which lived an old woman and her little grandson. One day the little boy went into the corn patch and saw there the footprints of a little child. He went back home and told his grandmother about it. They did not know whether [p. 79] the tracks had been made by a girl or a boy. They looked for the child everywhere, but could not find it. At last the old woman told her grandson to take out a flesher and a hoe and leave them in the field. "If it is a girl," the old woman said, "she will take them." The little boy did as she had said, and left the things there, but when the strange child came he did not take them. They could see his tracks where he had walked straight by them. Then the old woman said: "My son, take your bow and arrows and put them there. If it is a boy he will take them." He did so. When the little boy next went back to the corn patch after leaving the bow and arrows, they were gone. Then the little boy went into the corn and hid himself and waited. He stayed hidden there until the little Star Boy came back; then he walked up to him. He said: "Come, let us go to where my grandmother lives. We can play there together with our bows and arrows." The boys went to the lodge and went in and ate together. Then they went out and played with their bows and arrows. They lived thus for a long time. When they [p. 80] had grown so that they could go a long way from home, they would sometimes stay away too long, and the old woman would get frightened about them and would scold them when they came back. One day she said to the boys: "My sons, you must never go over there to that place where the timber grows thick. Never go there. That is where your fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, and brothers were killed by a grizzly bear. It is dangerous to go there." Not long after that the little Star Boy said, "Let us go out and kill little birds." They went out, and when they had got some distance from the lodge he said, "Brother, let us go over to that place where grandmother told us not to go." The other boy said: "It is good. We will go." They went over there, and when they had gone into the thick timber, suddenly they saw a bear. It seemed very angry and roared and growled. The Star Boy laughed at it, and walked up to it and tapped it on the head with his bow. His father was using his power so that the bear could not hurt him. The boy took the bear home with him to the lodge, and called to his grandmother to come [p. 81] out and said, "Grandmother, here is a bear; you can have him to pack wood and water for you." The old woman was scared. The boy killed the bear with his little arrows. One day after that the old woman said to the boys: "Now, boys, do not go to that thick-timbered place over there. That is where some of your brothers and relations disappeared. Do not go there." Soon after this, one day when they were out hunting little birds and had got away from the lodge, the Star Boy said, "Brother, let us go over to that place where grandmother told us not to go. Let us see what is there." They went, and as they were going along through the timber they saw a panther. The panther growled and looked very fierce, but the boy walked up to it and shot his little arrow at it and killed it. His father was helping him. The boys skinned it and took it home and stuffed it with grass and stood it up in the lodge. Their grandmother was away. When she came back they told her to go into the lodge; they said, "We have something nice for you in there." She went into the lodge, and when she saw the panther she was frightened almost to death, and the boys laughed. The [p. 82] boys said to the old woman, "Grandmother, we have done this so that we away other animals outside the lodge to scare a so that they will not come near us." The grandmother said: "Boys, boys, you must not do as you have been doing. You must not go so far away, and you must not go into danger. Right up there on the hill is a den of snakes. I do not want you to go there. You must not go near that place." Soon after this the Star Boy said to his playmate "Brother, let us go over to that hill where the snakes live. Let us each take a piece of rock and we will kill them." They went, and when they got to the place he said: "Sit down. Put your rock on the ground and sit down on it. I know what the snakes are going to do, but our father will take care of us." The snakes came out of the den--great lots of them--and came towards the boys. All at once the boys saw a cloud rising and coming towards them, and pretty soon it began to rain where the snakes were, and the water got so deep that the snakes were swimming, but where the boys were it did not rain. On them the sun was shining warm and bright. Then the [p. 83] sun got hotter and hotter, and at last it was so hot it made the water boil and killed all the snakes. The boys went home, and the old woman's grandson told her what had happened--just how it all was. Then she said to him: "Grandson, I believe there is power in this little boy. Now we will go back to our people." They had left their people because they were poor and had no horses, and the others in the camp did not take care of them. She said, "We will go back and try to find out where this boy came from, and whether he is a relative of any of our people there." Before they started the grandmother asked the Star Boy where he came from. He told her that he did not know; that he had come from above, but he remembered that his mother had told him that they did not belong up there, but down below, and that she had been taken up by a star. He said that she had come down with him on her back, but had been killed by a stone dropped from above, which had hit her on the head but did not kill him. Then the old woman remembered that once a girl had disappeared one night from the camp [p. 84] when she was sleeping on an arbor, and that this girl was the daughter of a chief. They left their lodge and went back to their people. When they reached the camp, they had a lodge of their own and all lived together. His relations, when they found out who the Star Boy was, wanted him to come and live with them, but for a long time he would not do so. When he did go, he took the old woman and her grandson with him. When he grew up he began to go on the warpath, and he had good luck and struck many of his enemies. At length he married the daughter of a chief, and the grandson married another daughter. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 85] The Grizzly Bear's Medicine [p. 86] [p. 87] The Grizzly Bear's Medicine A LONG time ago there lived in a camp of Pawnees a certain poor boy. His father had only one pony. Once he had been a leading man in the tribe, but now he seemed to be unlucky. When he went on the war-path he brought back nothing, and when he fought he did nothing, and the people did not now look up to him. There was a chief's son who loved the poor boy, and these two went together all the time. They were like brothers; they used to hunt together and go courting together, and when they were travelling, the poor boy often rode one of the ponies of the chief's son, and the latter used to go to the poor boy's lodge and sleep there with him. Once the camp went off to hunt buffalo, and the poor boy and the chief's son rode together all the time. After the people had made camp [p. 88] at a certain place, the chiefs decided to stop here for four days, because the buffalo were close by, and they could kill plenty and dry the meat here. North of the camp was a hill on which grew many cedar-trees, and during the day the poor boy had overheard people saying that many Indians had been killed on that hill, among those trees. They said that no one ought to go there, for it was a dangerous place. That night the chief's son went over to his friend's lodge to sleep there, but before they went to bed he left the lodge for a time, and while he was gone the poor boy, as he sat there waiting, began to think about himself and how unhappy he was. He remembered how poor he and his father were, and how everybody looked down on them and despised them, and it did not seem to him that things would ever be any better for them than they were now. For a long time he sat there thinking about all these things, and the more he thought of them the worse they seemed, and at last he felt that he was no longer glad to live, and he made up his mind to go up into those cedars. He went out of the lodge and started to go [p. 89] up towards the trees. It was bright moonlight, so that he could see well. Just before he reached the edge of the timber he crossed a ravine, and saw there many skeletons of people who had been killed. The ground was white with these bones. He went on into the cedars, and came to a ravine leading up the hill and followed it. As he went on he saw before him a trail and followed it, and when he came to the head of the ravine there was a big hole in the bank, and the trail led to it. He stopped for a moment when he came to this hole, but then he went in, and when he had entered he saw there, sitting by the fire, a big she-bear and some little cubs. As the boy stood there looking at her, the she-bear said to him: "I am sorry that you have come here. My husband is the one who kills persons and brings them here for the children and me to eat. You had better go back to your people quickly, or he will eat you up. He has gone hunting, but he will soon be back again. If he finds you here he will kill you." The poor boy said: "Well, I came here on purpose to be killed, and I give myself up to you. I shall be glad to be eaten by you. I [p. 90] am here ready to be killed. I am yours. Take me." The she-bear said: "Oh, I wish I could do something to save you, but I cannot. He is one of those bad bears--a grizzly--medicine. I can do nothing for you, but I will try. As soon as you hear any noise outside--any one coming--pick up that cub, the littlest one, and hold it in your arms. When he comes in he will tell you to put it down, but do not do so. Hold it tight; he loves that one best of all." All at once the boy heard outside the cave the noise of a bear snorting and grunting. The she-bear said, "Pick up the cub, quick; he is coming." The boy caught up the little bear, and held it tight to his breast. All at once the noise came to the mouth of the den and stopped. It was the Bear. The boy could hear him talking. He said: "Here! somebody has been about my house. I smell human beings. Yes, he even came in. Where is he? Let me see him, so that I may jump upon him and kill him." When he came in he saw the boy, and seemed very angry. He stood up on his hind feet and threw up his hands, and then came down again and struck his paws on the ground, [p. 91] and then rose up and snorted "whoof," and blew out red dust from his nostrils, and then came down and jumped about, and sometimes sprang towards the boy, as though he were going to seize him. He was very terrible, and the boy was very much afraid. The Bear called out to the boy in a loud voice: "How dare you take up my child and hold it? Let it go, or I will tear you to pieces and eat you." But the boy still held the cub. No matter what the Bear said or what he did, the boy held fast to the cub. When the Bear saw that the boy would not let the cub go, he became quiet, and no longer seemed angry. He said: "Boy, you are my son. Put down your brother, for now he is your brother. He shall go with you, he shall be your companion, and shall be with you always as your guide and helper. He has told me your story, and how you are poor, unhappy, and now he has kept you from being eaten up. I have taken pity on you, and we will send you back to your people, where you may do some good among them. My son, I am at the head of all these animal lodges, down at Pahuk' and at Pahur' and everywhere [p. 92] else. I am at the head; there is no animal living that is stronger than I; none that I cannot kill. If a man shoots at me, I make the arrow to fall from my skin without hurting me. Look up around my lodge. See these arrows, these guns, these leggings, these beads, and the medicine that men have brought, thinking to kill me; but I have killed them, and have taken these things, and keep them here. "I knew that your people were coming to this place to hunt. I drove the buffalo over, so that the people should stop here and hunt and kill meat, in order that you might come to my lodge. I know all your feelings. I know that you are sorry for your poor father, my brother, and I wished you to come here, so that I might make you my son and give my power to you, so that you may become a great man among your people. I know that they are now killing buffalo, and that they will be camped here for four days. "Now, my son, set your brother free. All the power that I have I give to you. I shall kill my son, your little brother there, and give you his skin to keep and to carry away with you, so that he may be your companion and The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 114] [p. 115] The First Medicine Lodge [p. 116] [p. 117] The First Medicine Lodge GREAT many winters ago the Piegans were camped near a small creek. Their lodges were arranged in a circle, enclosing a large open space. This was long before they had horses. They used dogs to pack with. The head chief had a daughter. She was good and beautiful. Many young men had asked to marry her, but she had refused them all. One day she went to the stream for water. There she met a boy, well known through the camp, because of a great scar on his cheek, which made him very ugly. From this the people called him Scarface. He was very poor. His mother and father were dead, and he lived with his grandmother. His clothes were old and torn, and he wore about him part of a worn buffalo robe. Yet, though his clothes were poor and his face was ugly, his heart was good, and the [p. 118] cruel taunts of his people often made him very sad. When Scarface met the beautiful girl, he asked her if she would marry him. She looked at him in scorn and said: "Do you think I would marry such an ugly person as you? When you remove that great scar from your face, come and ask me." Then she left him. He sat for a long time thinking over the cruel words the girl had spoken. His heart was sad. At last he went slowly to his grandmother's lodge. When he entered he said: "Grandmother, make me some moccasins and put some dried buffalo meat in a sack for me. I am going away and may be gone a long time." She gave him the things he asked for, and he left the lodge and started to go to a butte not far from the camp. When he reached the top of the butte, he threw himself upon the ground and wept and prayed to the Sun to have pity on him and remove the scar. At last he stood up and made a bed of the stones which he found on the side of the butte. Then he lay down to sleep. While he slept a voice said to him: "My son, rise, and go to the butte to the right of you. There [p. 119] you will find your father." He did as the voice had said. When he reached the place, he threw himself on the ground and wept as before, and prayed the Sun to help him. He made a bed of stones like the one he had lain on before, and while he slept another voice said: "My son, your journey is not yet ended. Rise and go to that butte still farther to the right. There you will find one who will direct you on your way." Again he obeyed the voice. When he reached this butte he made his bed as before, and slept, but no voice spoke to him. In the morning he awoke. As he sat on the ground, he was wondering what he should do next. Again a voice spoke, saying, "My friend, shut your eyes." He did so, and in a short time the strange voice said, "Open your eyes and look about you." When he opened his eyes, he was far up in the blue sky, in another world. It was all a wide prairie. There were no mountains, no trees. There were only rivers, with a few bushes upon their banks. He could now see the person who had spoken to him. He was a young man about his own age, but he was very handsome. [p. 120] [paragraph continues] He wore a shirt, leggings, and robe of some strange animal's fur, and his moccasins were embroidered in strange and beautiful colors and patterns. The young man said to Scarface: "My name is Sun Dog. The Sun is my father and the Moon my mother. Yonder is my father's lodge. Let us go to it. My father is not now there. At night he will enter." They reached the lodge. Very large it was and very beautiful. Many unknown animals were painted on it, and behind it, hanging from a tripod, were the war clothes of the Sun, made of the skins of strange animals, and trimmed with fine feathers. Scarface was ashamed to enter this beautiful lodge, for his clothes were poor and his moccasins were worn with travel; but Sun Dog said to him, "Enter, my new friend, and fear nothing." They entered. All about were seats covered with white robes, and everything was strange. The Moon was there. Sun Dog approached her and said: "Mother, I have brought a young man to our lodge who is very poor. I beg you to have pity on him and help him in his trouble." The Moon spoke kindly to Scarface, and gave him something to eat. [p. 121] When it was time for the Sun to come home, Sun Dog hid Scarface and covered him up with robes. When the Sun came to the door, he stopped and said, "There is a person here." "Yes, father," said Sun Dog, "a good young man, who is in trouble, has come to see you." The Sun said, "Bring him to me." Sun Dog removed the robes and brought Scarface before the Sun. The Sun looked at Scarface a short time, and turning to the Moon, bade her make Scarface as handsome as their own son, and give him some nice clothes to wear. The Moon made some medicine and rubbed it over Scarface. In a short time he was changed into a very handsome young man. The Moon took Sun Dog and Scarface before the Sun and said, "O Sun, tell me which is Sun Dog." The Sun looked at the two boys for a moment, and then pointed to Sun Dog, and said, "This is our son." Again the Moon rubbed the medicine on Scarface, until she was sure that the two young men looked alike, and again she took them before the Sun and said, "O Sun, tell me now which is our son." He looked at them a long time, and, pointing to Scarface, said, "This must be our son." [p. 122] In the morning before leaving the lodge, the Sun called the young men to him and said, "My children, do not go near that lodge by the river, for in it live four large white birds with long bills with which they pluck out people's hearts. I have had four other sons, but they have all been killed by these birds." Then he left them. The two young men went out hunting. They went on and on, when suddenly Sun Dog cried out, "This is the place where my brothers were killed! See! there are the birds coming one after another towards us. Let us make haste to get away." He ran away, but Scarface waited until the birds came near him. As they came up, he struck each on the head with a club which he carried, and killed them. After some time Sun Dog returned, and the young men took the birds home to the lodge. The Moon was very happy when she saw that the destroyers of her sons were dead. When the Sun returned in the evening, Sun Dog said, "Father, my friend killed the bad birds today," and he showed them to him. The Sun called Scarface to him and dressed him in clothes made of white buffalo skins and painted [p. 123] his face and said: "It is now time, my son, for you to return to your people, for they need your help. They are beneath us, and not far from here. Sun Dog will take you and will tell you what I wish you to do." After shaking hands with the Sun and Moon, the two young men started on their journey. After they had gone some distance, they stopped. Sun Dog said: "Soon we will have to part, but first I must tell you what the Sun has commanded you to do. If there are any sick or dying among your people, in order to make them well you must build the Medicine Lodge. First you must get one hundred buffalo tongues. Select four pure women of your tribe to help. Let one woman make the medicine, another cut thin and dry the tongues, and the other two boil the tongues. Go into the tall brush and clear a place for the Medicine Lodge. When everything is ready, call the people together to take part in the dance. Let each take a piece of the tongue, and let all say together, 'Great Sun, let us eat together, and grant to us that our people may recover.' If the women you select to make the medicine and to cut and boil the tongue are pure women, the sick and the dying [p. 124] among your people will recover; if not, they will die. "Now, my brother," continued Sun Dog, "you have heard the commands of the Sun. You will soon find yourself on the butte you came from. We must now part." They shook hands. Sun Dog said, "Shut your eyes." Scarface shut his eyes, and when he opened them he found himself sitting at the foot of the butte from which he came. The circular camp lay before him. He went to his grandmother's lodge, but no one recognized in the handsome young man the one who had left them so poor and ugly. All gathered about him to listen to his wonderful story. He told them of the commands of the Sun, and a short time after made the Medicine Lodge as the Sun had commanded. This was the first Medicine Lodge. Scarface became a great chief and all listened to his wise words. The beautiful girl came to him and said, "You are very handsome now, and a great chief, and I will marry you." But he sent her away. He married good women and lived a long time. When he died Sun Dog took him back to the Sun, where he lives forever. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 125] Thunder Maker and Cold Maker [p. 126] [p. 127] Thunder Maker and Cold Maker IN ancient times, before horses had come from the south and been taught to bear burdens the people did not move camp often, but remained in one place so long as sufficient game could be found to furnish food. They shrank from taking down their lodges and travelling over the prairie to fresh hunting-grounds, for their dogs could not pack everything, and they themselves were forced to carry heavy loads on their backs. One season they had hunted on a little stream in the foot-hills since early spring. The summer passed, the leaves began to fall, and with the approach of winter the great herds of buffalo slowly grazed out on the plains, and finally disappeared to the eastward. Hardy and warmly furred as they were they feared the deep snow and the cold of the mountain country. [p. 128] When the last of the buffalo had gone, a great hunter named Low Wolf thought that it was also time for him to move. He said to the chiefs: "Come, now, the buffalo have gone; they are our food; let us too move away from the mountains and follow them." But the chiefs said they would not break camp for a while. "Snow will not fall for one or two moons," they said, "and there are still plenty of elk, deer, moose, and other small game close by. Do not be impatient. Let us wait." Low Wolf would not listen to them. "No," he said, "I am not a hunter of small game. The buffalo are my living, and to-morrow I shall follow them, even if I go alone." The people thought that he was joking; but the next morning they learned that he meant what he said, for when they arose they saw that already his lodge had been taken down, and his wife and daughter were busy packing the dogs and lashing the travois on them. "Hold on," said the chiefs, coming up; "why all this hurry? It is not safe for you to go alone. It is not right for you to take your wife and daughter out on the lonely plains. [p. 129] [paragraph continues] Think of all the dangers. Wait until we are ready to move." "What the Low Wolf has said cannot be unsaid," he replied. "I told you that to-day I should start after the buffalo, and now I am going." For several days the little family travelled eastward along the valley of the evergrowing stream, but found no buffalo. Then they turned northeast, and after four nights on the wide prairie saw before them another valley. Buffalo were all around them now, and Low Wolf said that if they could find plenty of timber and water he would be content to stay in this place until spring. There was a large river flowing through the valley, and along its banks grew groves of large cotton-woods and willows. At the edge of one of these groves the dogs were unpacked and the lodge put up where it was protected from the wind. That night, as the little family sat about the fire eating fat buffalo ribs, Low Wolf said: "Ah, how foolish were the people not to come with me; here we have a fine sheltered camp, plenty of wood, and on all sides the buffalo darken the prairie. Besides, down here it is still summer weather, [p. 130] while up there where they are it is already freezing at night." The days passed happily. Every morning Low Wolf went out to hunt, and his wife and daughter dried the meat that he brought in, tanned soft robes for sleeping and for covering, and cut great piles of fire-wood against the cold of approaching winter. One evening, Plover Call, the daughter, went out to gather the night's wood, and while she was lashing a pile of it to carry in she happened to look up, and saw standing near a man wearing his robe hair side out. He was facing the river, his back towards her, but she supposed it was her father, although it seemed strange that he should follow her out into the timber, as there were no signs of any enemy about. "What are you doing there?" she asked. "Come, I have gathered my wood; let us go home." The man turned towards her and lowered his robe from his face, and she saw that he was a stranger--a handsome young man, with light-colored hair and a white face. Strangely enough she was not afraid of him, for he had a kind face, and his blue eyes looked pleasant. [p. 131] "Ah," he said, as he slowly drew near where she stood, "I have come from a far land. I have left my people, for something told me to go in search of a wife. When I saw you I knew that you were the one I was meant to find. Let us live together." Plover Call forgot her wood as she looked at him. "Come with me to our lodge," she said at last, "and I will find out if it may be as you ask." When they came to it she told him to stand outside for a little. "Father, mother," she said, as she entered the doorway, "I have found a young man out in the woods who wishes to marry me; are you willing that he should?" "Is he strong and active?" asked Low Wolf. "Is he well clothed and good-looking?" the mother inquired. "Oh," said the girl, "he is everything you ask, and more; he is even strange-looking, for he has a white face, and his hair is the color of last year's prairie grass." "Well," said Low Wolf, "it matters not about his looks, so long as he is an active man; yet it is strange that he is so different from us. Tell him to come in." [p. 132] Plover Call went to the doorway and beckoned to the young man, and when he had entered, her father and mother motioned him to a seat, and soon began to talk to him, asking many questions. The young man replied readily to all of them, so after he had considered for a time, Low Wolf concluded to give him his daughter. The next day she and her mother began to make a new lodge, and as soon as it was finished, put up and stored with robes and clothing, food and other things, the two were married. "I am glad that you came," the father said to the young man, "and glad to give you my good daughter. We will not be so lonely now, and if the enemy should come there will be two of us to fight them." The fourth day after the young couple were married and had moved into the new lodge, the stranger arose early, and after a hurried meal told Plover Call that he intended to go hunting. His wife was pleased, and said that he must bring in a deer, for she wished to tan the skin and make him some moccasins. He picked up his bow-case and quiver, slung it on his back and started, and shortly after he left the lodge, low, continuous rumbling of [p. 133] thunder was heard, beginning quite near the lodges, and finally dying away in the distance. Plover Call and her parents came out of their lodges, looked around, and were surprised to see that there was not a cloud in the sky; and again it was the wrong time of year for thunder. Moreover, the young man was not to be seen in any direction, although he had gone but a moment before. It was all very strange. Evening came; the sun had gone down, and the shadow of night covered the valley, when again thunder was heard, this time far away at first, and then coming nearer. Then presently Plover Call heard something heavy fall by the doorway, and her husband entering, said: "Well, I got the deer for you. There it lies just outside." The young woman was uneasy; she went over and consulted her father. "Surely mysterious things are happening about here," said Low Wolf, "and I suspect your husband is not what he seems to be. Anyhow, it is well to be on the safe side; do not eat any of the deer he brought in." The young woman went back to her lodge, cut some meat from the deer, and cooked it for [p. 134] her husband. While he was eating she skinned the animal, cut it into quarters, and hung it out on a near-by bush. After the evening meal was over her father came in, and the two men talked for a long time about hunting and war, and her husband told interesting stories about his people. Listening to him, both Plover Call and her father were ashamed of their fears, and resolved to make amends by treating the young man as kindly as they knew how. The next day the wind changed to the north, and there came a light fall of snow; no hunting was done. The following morning Plover Call's husband again started out with his bow and arrows, and, as before, as soon as he left it thundered for a long time. The fears of the little family were again aroused, and when at night the young man returned after a long rumbling of thunder, they were all frightened, and feared that something dreadful was about to happen. The hunter had brought in another deer and told how he had killed it, and where he had been hunting. "Why," said Low Wolf, "I was out there, too, this morning; it is strange I did not see you. I should have seen your tracks anyhow." [p. 135] They learned the next day that he made no tracks. When he started out they watched him; he took four steps from the lodge door, and then suddenly vanished, the thunder beginning again and rumbling away into the distance. As he disappeared, a strange-looking bird was seen flying the way the thunder was muttering. Then they knew that this person was really the thunder bird, and their hearts were filled with a great fear. Four times the strange husband went hunting, always disappearing at the lodge door in his mysterious way, always accompanied by thunder, going and coming, never leaving any footprints beyond the lodge. Yet when at home he was just like any other young man, light-hearted, sociable, and kind to his .wife. The morning after his fourth hunt he said that he must go and visit his people. "It is a very long distance that I must travel," he said to them, "and I may be away many moons; but do not worry, for I shall return as soon as I can." With that he left the lodge, and peering through the folds of the doorway, they saw him vanish as before, and as the thunder rolled, saw the bird flying out [p. 136] across the valley, over the rim of the plain towards the south. The moons came, grew, and went, but Plover Call's husband did not return. She was glad of it, and so were her parents, for they all feared his terrible, mysterious ways. One evening the young woman was again chopping wood by the river, and, again looking up, she saw a man standing near her, wearing his robe hair side out. Again she thought it was her father, but when she addressed him he turned around, and she saw it was a stranger. At first she was sure it was her husband, but as he lowered his robe she saw that he was dark-faced and black-haired like herself. "Who are you?" she asked. "Why are you here?" "I am of your race," he said, "but from a far-away tribe. I am seeking a wife; will you marry me?" Plover Call would not answer his question, but told him to go with her to her parents' lodge. Low Wolf decided that she might marry the stranger at once. "The other one," he said, "that Thunder Maker, has been gone a long time, and I am sure he will never return. We need another drawer of the bow in case of attack, [p. 137] so put up your lodge again and try to live happily." Although he had appeared rather strangely, and, like the Thunder Maker, had said he came from a far country, there was nothing that seemed either odd or mysterious about Plover Call's new husband. He hunted with her father, prayed to Napi, the creator, as she did, and in no respect was different from any young Blackfoot she knew. He was very kind and gentle, and the girl soon loved him with all her heart. They lived together very happily. One day, as he sat in the lodge making some arrows, the distant rumbling of thunder was heard. "Go!" his wife cried. "Leave here at once; the man I told you of is returning." "I will not leave this lodge," said he, calmly, "for the Thunder person, nor any one else." "But you must," she replied; "he will be angry; and oh, I fear him. Listen! he is coming nearer. Hurry away before it is too late." "Ah," said her husband, "you do not love me, or you would not ask this." "It is because I do love you that I want to have you go." [p. 138] "Say no more," he replied; "now that I know you love me, I shall surely stay. I do not fear him." Suddenly the curtain of the doorway was thrown back and the Thunder Maker bounded into the lodge. He was very angry. Streams of lightning flashed continuously from his eyes. Sheets of ill-smelling smoke, mingled with blue flame, rolled in waves from his body. Plover Call shut her eyes, nearly fainting at the dreadful sight, and her heart stood still from fear. "What are you doing here?" he cried to the man calmly scraping his arrows. "What are you doing here in my lodge? Go at once, or I will kill you where you sit." "Do you go yourself," the other replied, "or it will be the worse for you. This is my house, and this woman whom you deserted is my wife." Thunder Maker sprang into the air in fury, and more fearfully than ever the lightning flashed from his eyes. Raising his hand to strike, he stepped suddenly towards his enemy, but the man as quickly held up some soft, white, downy eagle feathers, and blew them from his hand, and a terrible cold, biting wind filled the lodge. Thunder Maker fell back. The [p. 139] wind increased, and the lodge shook as if it would be blown away. Fine, sharp, stinging frost-flakes hissed in through the doorway and from under the edges of the lodge skins. Colder and colder it grew; and, trembling, quivering, his lips blue, his teeth chattering, Thunder Maker staggered to a bed and fell upon it. "You have beaten me; your power is greater than mine," he cried. "Oh, Cold Maker, have pity!" For Plover Call's new husband was Cold Maker, he who brings the fierce storms, the biting wind, and drifting, whirling snow from out the north. And now, as he saw his enemy gasping, shaking, and begging for mercy, as he lay on the bed, he laughed. "Will you promise never to return; never to trouble us again?" he asked. "I will go, I will go," groaned the other. "You promise? Then go, and be sure you keep your word." The cold wind and the hazy frost ceased as suddenly as they had come. Thunder Maker staggered to his feet. He reeled out of the lodge. Lightning no longer flashed from his eyes. The blue flame and stifling smoke no longer [p. 140] rolled from his person. He looked very poor and sick as he disappeared. Now that Plover Call knew who her new husband really was, she was not at all afraid of him, although he was one of the deathless ones, who, for the time, had taken the form of man. They continued to live happily together, and when summer came he went with her and her parents, and joined the great camp of the Blackfeet. Often Cold Maker said to her people that he could not remain with them always, but he never told them when he should go away. "After I have gone," he said once, "I will try to warn you of the approach of a cold storm. When you see a raven flying about in the winter, and crying its loud notes, look out, for the cold storm will be near." After many years Plover Call died of old age, and Cold Maker mourned. "He will leave us now," the people said. They were right. One day he disappeared and was seen no more. But his words were not forgotten. Since that time they have named the raven after him. Even to this day the raven comes to give warning of an approaching storm. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 141] The Blindness of Pi-wap'-ok [p. 142] [p. 143] The Blindness of Pi-wap'-ok PI-WAP'-OK, Flint-knife, was a Blood warrior; he was brave and ambitious, seldom passing a day idly in his lodge. If not away on the war-path against some distant tribe, he was sure to be out hunting. The burning heats of summer, the cold, and the piercing snow-drifting winds of winter did not keep him back, if he thought game was to be found. There were always many buffalo hides and many skins of elk, deer, and antelope stacked up about his lodge, and within were thick warm robe beds, and piles of soft buckskins, tanned by his wife I-kai-si, the Squirrel. None knew better than the poor, the blind, and the crippled, that the parfleches piled up behind the beds, and filling the space near the doorway, contained stores of fat dried meat, rich pemmican, marrow fat, dried berries and roots, to a share of which they [p. 144] were always welcome. The couple had no children, and they said that unless a crowd of guests feasted and smoked in their lodge of an evening, they felt lonesome. So for many years they lived, happy and prosperous, and then a great trouble came on them. One day Pi-wap'-ok returned from a hunt and complained that his eyes hurt him. "They feel as if some one had thrown sand in them," he said. "When I try to see something far away, they fill with tears and everything becomes indistinct." "Oh, that is nothing," I-kai-si said to him, "the hard wind which you have been out in all day has made them a little sore. I'll stew some of those leaves my old grandmother used to say were good for the eyes, and after you have bathed them once or twice, no doubt you will see clearly again." The lotion was used for a day or two, but the inflammation increased. A great doctor was called in; he looked carefully at the red lids and the thin, ever-spreading film covering the eyes, and prescribed a steam bath, into which he threw certain herbs. It did no good, and a great medicine man was sent for. He [p. 145] came with ceremony, dressed in a bear-skin robe, carrying a bag of mysterious medicines, and shaking his rattles as he entered the lodge. Seating himself by the patient, he asked many questions as he examined the swollen eyes. At last he inquired if Pi-wap'-ok had experienced unpleasant dreams of late. "Yes," the sick man replied, "the night before this affliction came upon me, I had a terrible dream; you remember that I killed two Crow warriors this spring when we had the battle with them at the Yellow River. Well, I was fighting it all over again in my sleep. I had stabbed and taken the scalp of one Crow, and was turning to struggle with the other, when the dead one sprang up, all bleeding and sightless, the loose skin of the forehead hanging over his eyes, and with a loud cry struck me with the war-club still hanging from his wrist. Then I woke, frightened and trembling from the awful sight." "Ah!" said the medicine man, after thinking a little. "That explains it all; the ghost of some enemy you have killed is near here, and is blinding you in some mysterious way. Well, let me get to work; perhaps I can drive him away." [p. 146] He opened the medicine bag and took from it a long pipe stem painted red and black, to which was tied a small buckskin sack, ornamented with the feathers of certain small birds, and curious claws and teeth. No one but he knew what was inside the little sack; it was his secret helper. "Hai-yu," he cried to it, entreatingly. "Hai-yu, you certain thing of the earth. Help me now; help me to drive away the ghosts from this sufferer's eyes. As you long ago told me in my dreams to do, favored one of the Sun, that I will now do. Intercede for us all here to-day; ask the Sun to have pity on us all; to grant us long life, good health, and sufficient food." Such was his prayer. He knelt beside Pi-wap'-ok, and began an ancient medicine song, shaking his rattles and motioning the unseen spirit to depart. At times he picked up the long stem and blew through it on the inflamed eyes, calling out at the end of every breath: "Whooh! Ghost, retire." "How do you feel?" he asked, when about to leave, after many songs and prayers, and blowings through the stem. "Oh," Pi-wap'-ok replied, "I can't say that [p. 147] [paragraph continues] I see any plainer, but I think my eyes are not so painful." "Ah!" the medicine man said, "that is but natural; you cannot recover at once; when we have driven the ghost away for good, then it will still take time for the eyes to become clear." After some days it was found that the medicine man's charms had failed. One after another, the doctors and mystery men of the tribe were called in. This was expensive. One demanded two horses, another a gun and blanket, another three horses; another would not step inside the lodge until he had been paid ten horses. One by one Pi-wap'-ok's herd changed hands; little by little the store of soft robes and food disappeared, and the lodge became bare. But the afflicted one did not get well. For a time he could see objects dimly, then they became mere shadows; then the light went out entirely. Pi-wap'-ok was blind. It was hard for the man who had led such an active life to sit idly in his lodge day after day. He visited but little from lodge to lodge, for he did not like to ask any one to lead him about here and there. His wife was kind, [p. 148] cheering him with her constant talk and making light of their great misfortune. She worked hard to provide things as of old, by tanning for a share the hides and skins brought in by hunters. The people were all kind. They did not forget how generous the blind one had been in his prosperous days, and they came daily to relieve his poverty with gifts of meat, and even tongues and pemmican. Of an evening the chiefs and warriors would assemble in his lodge as before, to smoke and talk and cheer his spirits. Through all the pain, and the darkness of constant night, Pi-wap'-ok kept up a good heart, though at times, when he thought of the sunlight shimmering over the yellow prairie and painting the tops of the distant mountains with wondrous color, he was very sad to think that he was never again to behold it all, never again to join in the chase, never again to experience the fierce joy of battle. One thing that kept him up was the thought that by some good chance he might, some day, be cured. He remembered the stories of the ancient ones who had been made well by their brothers, the animals of the plain and forest, of the air and the water, and he thought that they might help [p. 149] him too, if only he had an opportunity to meet them. The people were camping along the foothills of the mountains, and one evening, after a long day's travel, the lodges were pitched by a wooded stream, and right under a high sandstone cliff which formed one side of the valley. The next morning, while yet the people slept and even the dogs were quiet, while not a stir of any kind broke the stillness of the camp, Pi-wap'-ok, restlessly turning on his bed, heard the shrill cry of a bald eagle (Ksik'-i-kinni, white-head), now near, now far, as it circled around and around above the valley. In his mind he saw the great bird soar, now high, now low, with scarcely a movement of its powerful wings, saw the flash of golden light on its body as it turned to the rising sun. "Ah," he thought, "if my sight were only as good as that bird's, how happy I should be! Far up in the air, it looks down upon the world, and nothing escapes its eye, from the great brown buffalo quietly grazing to the little ground squirrel hunting about its hole for a root of grass." Presently the camp awoke to another day of [p. 150] the chase, of toil, of feasting, and of play. I-kai-si arose, built a fire, and cooked the morning meal. A friend dropped in to share it and tell of a recent exciting bear hunt. Pi-wap'-ok scarcely heard him, for he was still thinking of the great bird swinging so strong and free in the blue sky above. All at once he realized that here, perhaps, was the opportunity he had long sought; here, close by, was a "little brother," as his fathers called them, more keen-eyed than any other living thing. Surely it knew how to keep the eyes bright and clear, how to cure them if they became diseased. "Friend," he said to his guest, "this morning, when all was still, I heard a whitehead sounding its cry as it circled around above us. Did you happen to see it?" "Yes," the man replied, "it has a nest here, and just as I came in I saw it carrying something to feed its young. Far up on the cliff by which we are camped is a short pine-tree, growing out from the climbing rock; there, in the branches, the bird has built its home." "Friend," Pi-wap'-ok cried; "it is as I thought: my chance has come. I beg you to [p. 151] guide me to that place, for I believe the traveller of the sky can cure me." "Hai-ya," the friend exclaimed, "you know not what you ask. With my good eyes, and seeing plainly where to cling and step, it would be a hard task to reach that height; for you it would be sure death to attempt the climb." "Even so," the blind one replied, "yet must I try to do it. Death comes in many ways. It stares us in the face at every turn. Wherever we go, whatever we do, it lies in wait for us, like a panther for the deer by a forest trail. I am not afraid; have pity and help me try to reach that nest." I-kai-si cried, and begged him to think no more of such a dangerous thing; the friend told how straight and high the cliff was, how difficult to climb, but they talked in vain. He said that if no one would help him, he would go alone, on until he fell and died. At length, seeing that he was not to be turned from this which he had set his mind upon, the friend consented to be his guide, and they started. It was but a few steps to the foot of the cliff, where the fallen rocks made a sloping hill; they soon surmounted this, and then the climb [p. 152] began. Sometimes they were side by side, the leader guiding the blind one's hands and feet, and again he was ahead, and reaching down would pull Pi-wap'-ok up on a narrow shelf. All the people of the camp stood watching them with wide-staring eyes, and as the two went on, higher and higher, over places where it seemed there was no jutting rock to offer foothold, they held their breath, fearing, expecting, that the next step would be the climbers' last. Pi-wap'-ok's courage won. At last, tired and breathless, they came to where the gnarled and stunted tree hung to the cliff's face by its giant roots. "Hai!" said the guide; "I never thought we would reach it; here we are at last. And now, what next?" "Help me up into the nest." "That I cannot do. There is no room for more than one. The limb would break if both of us were on it." "Then," said Pi-wap'-ok, "I will go alone," and he began to climb out on the trunk, his friend telling him just where to reach for a hold on the spreading branches. Then came the most dangerous feat of all, to climb over the rim of the wide and loose-sticked nest; but [p. 153] that too was accomplished, and the tired man lay down in its hollow beside the scared and hissing fledglings. "Go," he called out to his friend, "go and leave me for a time here alone." The young man climbed on up to the summit of the cliff, and walked away to a distant point, where he waited until he should be called. Pi-wap'-ok lay motionless; the young birds ceased their frightened cries, and all was still save for the breeze, which sung through the tree-top with a mournful sound. If the limb on which the nest was built gave way from his added weight, he knew that he would fall upon the rocks far below, a crushed and shapeless mass. It was an uneasy and frightful thought. And now from afar the parent bird espied him in the nest, and swooped down with a terrible rushing roar, like far-off thunder. Down, down, she came, swift as an arrow, to the very edge of the nest, and then soared upward with a bound, the rushing air behind swaying the tree as if a hurricane was passing. Again and again, four times in all, the bird made a rushing [p. 154] dive at the helpless man, and each time he heard its nearing cry he prayed, crying out that he had not come to harm its young, but to ask its aid. And at last the whitehead seemed to understand, for after the fourth fierce rush, it slowly sailed around and settled on the edge of the nest. "Hai-yu," Pi-wap'-ok cried, "be you male or female, father or mother of these young birds, as you love them, pity me." "I am their mother," the bird replied, "and, since you have called upon me in their name, say what is in your mind; I will help you if I can." Then the blind one told of his affliction, and how through great danger and sore distress of mind he had climbed the cliff, hoping the great bird might cure him. "Alas," said the whitehead when he had finished, "what you ask is beyond my power; nor could my husband, who is away hunting, help you. None of my kind could make you see again, for we have never had occasion to treat the eyes. We live to great age, but our eyes remain strong and clear to the very end." Pi-wap'-ok wept. "Alas!" he cried, "how [p. 155] my hopes have fallen. This long and dangerous climb, after all, brings no relief." "Not so," said the bird. "I cannot give you sight, but in other ways I can do much for you. Here is a feather from my tail; take it, and keep it carefully, and you shall live to old age. And since you are helpless in your blindness, I will do more. I will teach you many wonderful things, and will give you power to heal the sick. Then you will not sit sad and idle in your lodge. The people will keep coming for you to go here and there to heal them and to practise your mysterious rites, and you will be so busy that you will forget your blindness." Then the bird began, and through the long morning taught Pi-wap'-ok, showing him the secret of many wonderful things, telling him how and what to use for certain ailments. It took a long time to explain it all, and just as the bird finished, the blind one fell asleep. After a little he awoke. "Put out your hand and feel," the whitehead said. He did so and found he was lying on grassy ground. "You are on the prairie at the top of the cliff," the bird continued;" your friend is sitting [p. 156] away over there on a point. Rise up and motion him to come, for I must leave you now." When the young man saw him beckoning, he came running with all his might. "Ah!" he cried, as he came near, "you are cured." "No," Pi-wap'-ok replied. "I am still as blind as ever." "Then how came you here? How could you climb that awful cliff and still be blind?" "I do not know," said Pi-wap'-ok. "I was asleep in the whitehead's nest, and when I awoke I was here." The way home was easy, for they followed the rim of the valley to a point beyond the cliff, and then descended a sloping hill. And when they had arrived at camp the people came crowding around to hear all that had happened. As the whitehead had said, Pi-wap'-ok became a great medicine man and healer of the sick, and, through the secret power that the bird gave him, he was able to do many strange things. He and his wife, I-kai-si, lived to a great age. He was the greatest healer the Bloods have ever had. The Punishment of the Stingy and Other Indian Stories, by George Bird Grinnell, [1901], at sacred-texts.com [p. 157] Ragged Head [p. 158] [p. 159] Ragged Head MANY years ago there was a Nez Perce Indian whose name was Ragged Head. He wore the long hair on the front of his head tied up in a bunch, and the ends hanging over were ragged and of different lengths. This was why they gave him this name. This man was a great warrior. He could not be killed. When he was a young man his dream helper had come to him in his sleep and had spoken to him, saying: "My son, you are a man who need not fear to go into battle, for neither arrow nor bullet nor lance nor knife can hurt you. You may rush into the very midst of the enemy, and they will all run away from you. Take courage, therefore, take great courage." Then his dream helper smoked with him. But when the dream helper had spoken to [p. 160] him in his sleep, and had told him that he need not be afraid of his enemies, and had smoked with him, it had said further: "My son, some day you must die, and it may be that you will be killed by your enemy, for there is one thing that can hurt you. Only one thing, but of this you must be careful. If you should be shot with a ramrod, it will pierce your flesh and y