Algic Researches, Comprising Inquiries Respecting the Mental Characteristics of the North American Volume Ii Part 11

After Manabozho had killed the Prince of Serpents, he was living in a state of great want, completely deserted by his powers, as a deity, and not able to procure the ordinary means of subsistence. He was at this time living with his wife and children, in a remote part of the country, where he could get no game. He was miserably poor. It was winter, and he had not the common Indian comforts.

He said to his wife, one day, I will go out a walking, and see if I cannot find some lodges. After walking some time he saw a lodge at a distance. The children were playing at the door. When they saw him approaching they ran into the lodge, and told their parents that Manabozho was coming. It was the residence of the large redheaded Woodp.e.c.k.e.r. He came to the lodge door and asked him to enter. He did so.

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.

In the centre of the lodge stood a large white tamarack tree. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r flew on to it, 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 drew something out of the tree, and threw it down, when, behold!

a fine, fat rac.o.o.n on the ground. He drew out six or seven more. He then descended, 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 with each other. After eating, the great spirit-chief got ready to go home. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r said to his wife, Give him the remaining rac.o.o.ns to take home for his children. In the act of leaving the lodge he dropped intentionally one of his mittens, which was soon after observed. Run, said the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r to his eldest son, and give it to him. But don't give it into his hand; throw it at him, for there is no knowing him, he acts so curiously. The boy did as he was bid. Nemesho (my grandfather), said he, as he came up to him, you have left one of your mittens--here it is. Yes, said he, affecting to be ignorant of the circ.u.mstance, it is so. But don't throw it, you will soil it on the snow. The lad, however, threw it, and was about to return. List, said Manabozho, is that all you eat,--do you eat nothing else with the rac.o.o.n. No, replied the young Woodp.e.c.k.e.r. Tell your father, he answered, to come and visit me, and let him bring a sack. I will give him what he shall eat with his rac.o.o.n meat. When the young one reported this to his father, the old man turned up his nose at the invitation. What does the old fellow think he has got! exclaimed he.

Some time after the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r went to pay a visit to Manabozho. He was received with the usual attention. It had been the boast of Manabozho, in former days, that he could do what any other being in the creation could, whether man or animal. He affected to have the sagacity of all animals, to understand their language, and to be capable of exactly imitating it. And in his visits to men, it was his custom to return, exactly, the treatment he had received. He was very ceremonious in following the very voice and manner of his entertainers. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r had no sooner entered his lodge, therefore, than he commenced playing the mimic. He had previously directed his wife to change his lodge, so as to enclose a large dry tamarack tree. What can I give you, said he to the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r; but as we eat, so shall you eat. He then put a long piece of bone in his nose, in imitation of the bill of this bird, and jumping on the tamarack tree, attempted to climb it, doing as he had seen the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r do. He turned his head first on one side, then on the other. He made awkward efforts to ascend, but continually slipped down. He struck the tree with the bone in his nose, until at last he drove it so far up his nostrils that the blood began to flow, and he fell down senseless at the foot of the tree. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r started after his drum and rattle to restore him, and having got them, succeeded in bringing him to. As soon as he came to his senses, he began to lay the blame of his failure to his wife, saying to his guest, Nemesho, it is this woman relation of yours,--_she_ is the cause of my not succeeding. She has rendered me a worthless fellow. Before I took her I could also get rac.o.o.ns. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r said nothing, but flying on the tree, drew out several fine rac.o.o.ns. Here, said he, this is the way _we_ do, and left him with apparent contempt.

Severe weather continued, and Manabozho still suffered for the want of food. One day he walked out, and came to a lodge, which was occupied by the Moose, (Moz.) The young Mozonsug[62] saw him and told their father Manabozho was at the door. He told them to invite him in. Being seated they entered into conversation. At last the Moose, who was a Meet a, said, What shall we give Manabozho to eat? We have nothing. His wife was seated with her back toward him, making garters. He walked up to her, and untying the covering of the armlet from her back, cut off a large piece of flesh from the square of her shoulder.[63] He then put some medicine on it, which immediately healed the wound. The skin did not even appear to have been broken, and his wife was so little affected by it, that she did not so much as leave off her work, till he told her to prepare the flesh for eating. Manabozho, said he, this is all we eat, and it is all we can give you.

After they had finished eating Manabozho set out for home, but intentionally, as before, dropped one of his _minjekawun_, or mittens.

One of the young Moose took it to him, telling him that his father had sent him with it. He had been cautioned not to hand it to him, but to throw it at him. Having done so, contrary to the remonstrance of Manabozho, he was going back when the latter cried out BAKAH! BAKAH![64]

Is _that_[65] the only kind of meat you eat? Tell me. Yes, answered the young man, that is all, we have nothing else. Tell your father, he replied, to come and visit me, and I will give him what you shall eat with your meat. The old Moose listened to this message with indignity. I wonder what he thinks he has got, poor fellow!

He was bound, however, to obey the invitation, and went accordingly, taking along a cedar sack, for he had been told to bring one. Manabozho received him in the same manner he had himself been received,--repeating the same remarks, and attempted to supply the lack of food in the same manner. To this end he had requested his wife to busy herself in making garters. He arose and untied the covering of her back as he had seen the Moose do. He then cut her back shockingly, paying no attention to her cries or resistance, until he saw her fall down, from the loss of blood.

Manabozho, said the Moose, you are killing your wife. He immediately ran for his drum and rattle, and restored her to life by his skill. He had no sooner done this than Manabozho began to lay the blame of his ill success on his wife. Why, Nemesho, said he, this woman, this relation of yours--she is making me a most worthless fellow. Formerly, I procured my meat in this way. But now I can accomplish nothing.

The Moose then cut large pieces of flesh off his own thighs, without the least injury to himself, and gave them to Manabozho, saying with a contemptuous air, this is the way _we_ do. He then left the lodge.

After these visits Manabozho was sitting pensively in his lodge one day, with his head down. He heard the wind whistling around it, and thought, by attentively listening, he could hear the voice of some one speaking to him. It seemed to say to him; Great chief, why are you sorrowful. Am not I your friend--your guardian Spirit? He immediately took up his rattle, and without leaving his sitting posture, began to sing the chant which at the close of every stanza has the chorus of "WHAW LAY LE AW."

When he had devoted a long time to this chant, he laid his rattle aside, and determined to fast. For this purpose he went to a cave, and built a very small fire near which he laid down, first telling his wife, that neither she nor the children must come near him, till he had finished his fast. At the end of seven days he came back to the lodge, pale and emaciated. His wife in the meantime had dug through the snow, and got a small quant.i.ty of the root called truffles. These she boiled and set before him. When he had finished his repast; he took his large bow and bent it. Then placing a strong arrow to the string, he drew it back, and sent the arrow, with the strength of a giant, through the side of his bark lodge. There, said he to his wife, go to the outside, and you will find a large bear, shot through the heart. She did so, and found one as he had predicted.

He then sent the children out to get red willow sticks. Of these he cut off as many pieces, of equal length, as would serve to invite his friends to a feast. A red stick was sent to each one, not forgetting the Moose and the Woodp.e.c.k.e.r.

When they arrived they were astonished to see such a profusion of meat cooked for them, at such a time of scarcity. Manabozho understood their glances and felt a conscious pride in making such a display. Akewazi, said he, to one of the oldest of the party, the weather is very cold, and the snow lasts a long time. We can kill nothing now but small squirrels. And I have sent for you to help me eat some of them. The Woodp.e.c.k.e.r was the first to put a mouthful of the bear's meat to his mouth, but he had no sooner begun to taste it, than it changed into a dry powder, and set him coughing. It appeared as bitter as ashes. The Moose felt the same effect, and began to cough. Each one, in turn, was added to the number of coughers. But they had too much sense of decorum, and respect for their entertainer, to say any thing. The meat looked very fine. They thought they would try more of it. But the more they ate, the faster they coughed and the louder became the uproar, until Manabozho, exerting his former power, which he now felt to be renewed, transformed them all into the ADJIDAMO, or squirrel, an animal which is still found to have the habit of barking, or coughing, whenever it sees any one approach its nest.

FOOTNOTES:

[61] A warlike tribe of the Algic stock located at the sources of the Mississippi.

[62] Diminutive form, plural number, of the noun Moz.

[63] The dress of the females in the Odjibwa nation, consists of sleeves, open on the inner side of the arm from the elbow up, and terminating in large square folds, falling from the shoulders, which are tied at the back of the neck with ribbon or binding. The sleeves are separately made, and not attached to the breast garment, which consists of square folds of cloth, ornamented and sustained by shoulder straps.

To untie the sleeves or armlets, as is here described, is therefore to expose the shoulders, but not the back--a simple devise, quickly accomplished, by which the magician could readily exercise his art almost imperceptibly to the object.

[64] Stop! stop!

[65] It is difficult to throw into the English p.r.o.noun the whole of the meaning of the Indian. p.r.o.nouns in this language being, like other parts of speech, transitive; they are at once indicative both of the actor, personal, and relative, and the nature of the object, or subject of the action, or relation. This, and that, are not used in the elementary form these p.r.o.nouns invariably possess in the English. Inflections are put to them indicating the cla.s.s of natural objects to which they refer. A noun masculine or feminine, requiring an animate p.r.o.noun, a noun inanimate, a p.r.o.noun inanimate.

WEENG.

FROM THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE CHIPPEWAS.

Sleep is personified by the Algic race, under the name of Weeng.[66] But the power of the Indian Morpheus is executed in a peculiar manner, and by a novel agency. Weeng seldom acts directly in inducing sleep, but he exercises dominion over hosts of gnome-like beings, who are everywhere present, and are constantly on the alert. These beings are invisible to common eyes. Each one is armed with a tiny puggamaugon, or club, and when he observes a person sitting or reclining under circ.u.mstances favourable to sleep, he nimbly climbs upon his forehead and inflicts a blow. The first blow only creates drowsiness, the second makes the person lethargic, so that he occasionally closes his eyelids, the third produces sound sleep. It is the constant duty of these little emissaries to put every one to sleep whom they encounter--men, women, and children. And they are found secreted around the bed, or on small protuberances of the bark of the Indian lodges. They hide themselves in the GUSHKEEPITAUGUN, or smoking pouch of the hunter, and when he sits down to light his pipe in the woods, are ready to fly out and exert their sleep-compelling power. If they succeed, the game is suffered to pa.s.s, and the hunter obliged to return to his lodge without a reward.

In general, however, they are represented to possess friendly dispositions, seeking constantly to restore vigour and elasticity to the exhausted body. But being without judgment, their power is sometimes exerted at the hazard of reputation, or even life. Sleep may be induced in a person carelessly floating in his canoe, above a fall; or in a war party, on the borders of an enemy's country; or in a female, without the protection of the lodge circle. Although their peculiar season of action is in the night, they are also alert during the day.

While the forms of these gnomes are believed to be those of _ininees_, little or fairy men, the figure of Weeng himself is unknown, and it is not certain that he has ever been seen. Most of what is known on this subject, is derived from Iagoo, who related, that going out one day with his dogs to hunt, he pa.s.sed through a wide range of thicket, where he lost his dogs. He became much alarmed, for they were faithful animals, and he was greatly attached to them. He called out, and made every exertion to recover them in vain. At length he came to a spot where he found them asleep, having incautiously ran near the residence of Weeng.

After great exertions he aroused them, but not without having felt the power of somnolency himself. As he cast up his eyes from the place where the dogs were lying, he saw the Spirit of Sleep sitting upon a branch of a tree. He was in the shape of a giant insect, or _monetoas_, with many wings from his back, which made a low deep murmuring sound, like distant falling water. But Iagoo himself, being a very great liar and braggart, but little credit was given to his narration.

Weeng is not only the dispenser of sleep, but it seems, he is also the author of dulness, which renders the word susceptible of an ironical use. If an orator fails, he is said to be struck by Weeng. If a warrior _lingers_, he has ventured too near the sleepy G.o.d. If children begin to nod or yawn, the Indian mother looks up smilingly, and says, "they have been struck by Weeng," and puts them to bed.

FOOTNOTES:

[66] This word has the _g_ sounded hard, as if it were followed by a half sound of _k_--a common sound for _g_ final in the Odjibwa.

IAGOO.

FROM THE MYTHOLOGY OF THE CHIPPEWAS.

Iagoo is the name of a personage noted in Indian lore for having given extravagant narrations of whatever he had seen, heard, or accomplished.

It seems that he always saw extraordinary things, made extraordinary journeys, and performed extraordinary feats. He could not look out of his lodge and see things as other men did. If he described a bird, it had a most singular variety of brilliant plumage. The animals he met with were all of the monstrous kind; they had eyes like orbs of fire, and claws like hooks of steel, and could step over the top of an Indian lodge. He told of a serpent he had seen, which had hair on its neck like a mane, and feet resembling a quadruped; and if one were to take his own account of his exploits and observations, it would be difficult to decide whether his strength, his activity, or his wisdom should be most admired.

Iagoo did not appear to have been endowed with the ordinary faculties of other men. His eyes appeared to be magnifiers, and the tympanum of his ears so constructed that what appeared to common observers to be but the sound of a zephyr, to him had a far closer resemblance to the noise of thunder. His imagination appeared to be of so exuberant a character, that he scarcely required more than a drop of water to construct an ocean, or a grain of sand to form an earth. And he had so happy an exemption from both the restraints of judgment and moral accountability, that he never found the slightest difficulty in accommodating his facts to the most enlarged credulity. Nor was his ample thirst for the marvellous ever quenched by attempts to reconcile statements the most strange, unaccountable, and preposterous.

Such was Iagoo, the Indian story-teller, whose name is a.s.sociated with all that is extravagant and marvellous, and has long been established in die hunter's vocabulary as a perfect synonym for liar, and is bandied about as a familiar proverb. If a hunter or warrior, in telling his exploits, undertakes to embellish them; to overrate his merits, or in any other way to excite the incredulity of his hearers, he is liable to be rebuked with the remark, "So here we have Iagoo come again." And he seems to hold the relative rank in oral narration which our written literature awards to Baron Munchausen, Jack Falstaff, and Captain Lemuel Gulliver.

Notwithstanding all this, there are but a few sc.r.a.ps of his actual stories to be found. He first attracted notice by giving an account of a water lilly, a single leaf of which, he averred, was sufficient to make a petticoat and upper garments for his wife and daughter. One evening he was sitting in his lodge, on the banks of a river, and hearing the quacking of ducks on the stream, he fired, through the lodge door at a venture. He killed a swan that happened to be flying by, and twenty brace of ducks in the stream. But this did not check the force of his shot; they pa.s.sed on, and struck the heads of two loons, at the moment they were coming up from beneath the water, and even went beyond and killed a most extraordinary large fish called Moshkeenozha.[67] On another occasion he had killed a deer, and after skinning it, was carrying the carca.s.s on his shoulders, when he spied some stately elks on the plain before him. He immediately gave them chase, and had run, over hill and dale, a distance of half a day's travel, before he recollected that he had the deer's carca.s.s on his shoulders.

One day, as he was pa.s.sing over a tract of _mushkeeg_, or bog-land, he saw musquitoes of such enormous size, that he staked his reputation on the fact that a single wing of one of the insects was sufficient for a sail to his canoe, and the proboscis as big as his wife's shovel. But he was favoured with a still more extraordinary sight, in a gigantic ant, which pa.s.sed him, as he was watching a beaver's lodge, dragging the entire carca.s.s of a hare.

At another time, for he was ever seeing or doing something wonderful, he got out of smoking weed, and in going into the woods in search of some, he discovered a bunch of the red willow, or maple bush, of such a luxuriant growth, that he was industriously occupied half a day in walking round it.

FOOTNOTES:

[67] The muscalunge.

THE GRAVE LIGHT,

OR

ADVENTURES OF A WARRIOR'S SOUL.

FROM THE ODJIBWA.

There was once a battle between the Indians, in which many were killed on both sides. Among the number was the leader of the Odjibwas, a very brave man, who had fought in many battles; but while he was shouting for victory, he received an arrow in his flesh, and fell as if dead. At last his companions _thought he was dead_, and treated him as if he were.

They placed his body in a sitting posture, on the field of battle, his back being supported by a tree, and his face toward the enemies'