"No," replied Manabozho, "what will I do with a dirty dog's tooth?"

The Old Wolf took it up, and behold it was a beautiful silver arrow.

When they at last overtook them, they found that the youngsters had killed a very fat moose. Manabozho was very hungry, but the Old Wolf just then again exerted his magical powers, and Manabozho saw nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He thought to himself, "Just as I expected; dirty, greedy fellows. If it had not been for this log at my back I should have been in time to have got a mouthful"; and he cursed the bushy tail which he carried to the bottom of his heart.

The Old Wolf finally called out to one of the young ones, "Give some meat to your grandfather."

One of them obeyed, and coming near to Manabozho he presented him the end of his own bushy tail, which was now nicely seasoned with burs gathered in the course of the hunt. Manabozho jumped up and called out: "You dog, do you think I am going to eat you?" And he walked off in anger.

"Come back brother," cried the Wolf. "You are losing your eyes. You do the child injustice. Look there I" and behold a heap of fresh meat was lying on the spot, all prepared.

Manabozho turned back, and at the sight of so much good food put on a smiling face. "Wonderful!" he said, "how fine the meat is !"

"Yes," replied the Old Wolf, "it is always so with us; we know our work and always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes the hunter."

Manabozho bit his lip.

MANABOZHO IS ROBBED BY THE WOLVES

Adapted from H. R. Schoolcraft

SHORTLY after this the Old Wolf suggested to Manabozho that he should go out and try his luck in hunting by himself. When he chose to put his mind to it he was quite expert, and this time he succeeded in killing a fine fat moose which he thought he would take aside slyly and devour alone.

He was very hungry and he sat down to eat, but as he never could go to work in a straightforward way, he immediately fell into great doubts as to the proper point at which to begin.

"Well," said he, "I do not know where to commence. At the head? No, people will laugh, and say, 'He ate him backward.'"

He went to the side. "No," said he, "they will say I ate him sideways."

He then went to the hind quarter. "No, that will not do, either; they will say I ate him forward. I will begin here, say what they will."

He took a delicate piece from the small of the back, and was just on the point of putting it to his mouth when a tree close by made a creaking noise. He seemed vexed at the sound. He raised the morsel to his mouth the second time, when the tree creaked again.

"Why," he exclaimed, "I cannot eat when I hear such a noise. "Stop, stop! " he cried to the tree. He put down the morsel of meat, exclaiming. "I CANNOT eat with such a noise," and starting away he climbed the tree and was actually pulling at the limb which had bothered him, when his forepaw was caught between the branches so that he could not free himself.

While thus held fast he saw a pack of wolves advancing through the wood in the direction of his meat. He suspected them to be the Old Wolf and his cubs, but night was coming on and he could not make them out. "Go the other way, go the other Way!" he cried out; "what do you expect to get here?"

The Wolves stopped for a while and talked among themselves, and said: "Manabozho must have something there, or he would not tell us to go another way. "

"I begin to know know him," said the Old Wolf, "and all his tricks.

Let us go forward and see." They came on and, finding the moose soon made away with it.

Manabozho looked wistfully on while they ate until they were fully satisfied, when off they scampered in high spirits. A heavy blast of wind opened the branches finally, and released him. The wolves had left nothing but bare bones. He made for home.

When he related his mishap, the Old Wolf, taking him by the forepaw, condoled with him deeply on his ill luck. A tear even started to his eye as he added: "My brother, this should teach us not to meddle with points of ceremony when we have good meat to eat."

MANABOZHO AND THE WOODp.e.c.k.e.rS

Adapted from H. R. Schoolcraft

MANABOZHO lost the greater part of his magical power through letting his young wolf grandson fall through the thin ice and drown. No one knew where his grandmother had gone to. He married the arrow maker's daughter, and became the father of several children, but he was very poor and scarcely able to procure a living. His lodge was pitched in a distant part of the country, where he could get no game, and it was winter time. One day he said to his wife, "I will go out walking and see if I can find some lodges."

After walking some time he finally discovered a lodge at a distance.

There were children playing at the door, and when they saw him approaching they ran in and told their parents Manabozho was coming.

It was the home of the large Red-Headed Woodp.e.c.k.e.r. He came to the door and asked Manabozho to enter, and the invitation was promptly accepted. After some time the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r, who was a magician, said to his wife: "Have you nothing to give Manabozho? he must be hungry."

She answered, "No."

"He ought not to go without his supper," said the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r. "I will see what I can do."

In the center of the lodge stood a large tamarack tree. Upon this the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r flew, and commenced going up, turning his head on each side of the tree, and every now and then driving in his bill. At last he pulled something out of the tree and threw it down, when, behold, a fine fat racc.o.o.n lay on the ground. He drew out six or seven more, and then came down and told his wife to prepare them.

"Manabozho," he said, "this is the only thing we eat; what else can we give you?"

"It is very good," replied Manabozho.

They smoked their pipes and conversed, and after a while Manabozho got ready to go home, so the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r said to his wife, "Give him the Other racc.o.o.ns to take home for his children."

In the act of leaving the lodge Manabozho on purpose dropped one of his mittens, which was soon after observed upon the ground. "Run," said the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r to his eldest son, "and give it to him; but mind that you do not give it into his hand; throw it at him, for there is no knowing what he may do, he acts so curiously."

The boy did as he was directed. "Grandfather," he said, as he came up to him, "you have left one of your mittens, and here it is."

"Yes," he said, making believe he did not know he had dropped it, "so I did; but don't throw it, you will get it wet on the snow."

The lad, however, threw it, and was about to return when Manabozho cried out, "Bakah! Bakah! Stop, stop; is that all you eat? Do you eat nothing else with your racc.o.o.n? Tell me!"

"Yes, that is all, answered the Young Woodp.e.c.k.e.r; "we have nothing else."

"Tell your father," continued Manabozho, "to come and visit me, and let him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his racc.o.o.n meat."

When the young one returned and reported this message to his father the Old Woodp.e.c.k.e.r turned up his nose at the invitation. "I wonder," he said "what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!" He was bound, however, to answer the offer of hospitality, and he went accordingly, taking along a cedar-sack, to pay a visit to Manabozho.

Manabozho received the Old Red-Headed Woodp.e.c.k.e.r with great ceremony.

He had stood at the door awaiting his arrival, and as soon as he came in sight Manabozho commenced, while he was yet far off, bowing and opening wide his arms, in token of welcome; all of which the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r returned in due form, by ducking his bill and hopping to right and left, extending his wings to their full length and fluttering them back to his breast.

When the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r at last reached the lodge Manabozho made several remarks upon the weather, the appearance of the country, and especially spoke of the scarcity of game. "But we," he added-"we always have enough. Come in, and you shall not go away hungry, my n.o.ble birds!"

Manabozho had always prided himself on being able to give as good as he had received; and to be up with the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r he had shifted his lodge so as to inclose a large dry tamarack tree.

"What can I give you?" said he to the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r; "as we eat so shall you eat."

With this he hopped forward and, jumping on the tamarack tree, he attempted to climb it just as he had seen the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r do in his own lodge. He turned his head first on one side and then on the other, as the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r does, striving to go up the tree, but as often slipping down. Every now and then he would strike the tree with his nose, as if it was a bell, and draw back as if to pull something out of the tree, but he pulled out no racc.o.o.ns. He dashed his nose so often against the trunk that at last the blood began to flow, and he tumbled down senseless on the ground.

The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r started up with his drum and rattle to restore him, and by beating them violently he succeeded in bringing him to.

As soon as he came to his senses, Manabozho began to lay the blame of his failure upon his wife, saying to his guest: "Nemesho, it is this woman relation of yours-she is the cause of my not succeeding. She has made me a worthless fellow. Before I married her I also could get racc.o.o.ns.