I propose to tell what I know of these legends, keeping as near as possible to the Indian's style of story-telling, and using only tales told me by the older men of the Blackfeet, Chippewa, and Cree tribes.
CONTENTS
[WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED]
[HOW THE DUCKS GOT THEIR FINE FEATHERS]
[WHY THE KINGFISHER ALWAYS WEARS A WAR-BONNET]
[WHY THE CURLEW'S BILL IS LONG AND CROOKED]
[OLD-MAN REMAKES THE WORLD]
[WHY BLACKFEET NEVER KILL MICE]
[HOW THE OTTER SKIN BECAME GREAT MEDICINE]
[OLD-MAN STEALS THE SUN'S LEGGINGS]
[OLD-MAN AND HIS CONSCIENCE]
[OLD-MAN'S TREACHERY]
[WHY THE NIGHT-HAWK'S WINGS ARE BEAUTIFUL]
[WHY THE MOUNTAIN-LION IS LONG AND LEAN]
[THE FIRE-LEGGINGS]
[THE MOON AND THE GREAT SNAKE]
[WHY THE DEER HAS NO GALL]
[WHY INDIANS WHIP THE BUFFALO-BERRIES FROM THE BUSHES]
[OLD-MAN AND THE FOX]
[WHY THE BIRCH-TREE WEARS THE SLASHES IN ITS BARK]
[MISTAKES OF OLD-MAN]
[HOW THE MAN FOUND HIS MATE]
[DREAMS]
[RETROSPECTION]
INTRODUCTION
It was the moon when leaves were falling, for Napa had finished painting them for their dance with the North wind. Just over the ragged mountain range the big moon hung in an almost starless sky, and in shadowy outline every peak lay upon the plain like a giant pattern. Slowly the light spread and as slowly the shadows stole away until the October moon looked down on the great Indian camp—a hundred lodges, each as perfect in design as the tusks of a young silver-tip, and all looking ghostly white in the still of the autumn night.
Back from the camp, keeping within the ever-moving shadows, a buffalo-wolf skulked to a hill overlooking the scene, where he stopped to look and listen, his body silhouetted against the sky. A dog howled occasionally, and the weird sound of a tom-tom accompanying the voice of a singer in the Indian village reached the wolf's ears, but caused him no alarm; for not until a great herd of ponies, under the eyes of the night-herder, drifted too close, did he steal away.
Near the centre of the camp was the big painted lodge of War Eagle, the medicine-man, and inside had gathered his grandchildren, to whom he was telling the stories of the creation and of the strange doings of Napa, the creator. Being a friend of the old historian, I entered unhindered, and with the children listened until the hour grew late, and on the lodge-wall the dying fire made warning shadows dance.
WHY THE CHIPMUNK'S BACK IS STRIPED
What a splendid lodge it was, and how grand War Eagle looked leaning against his back-rest in the firelight! From the tripod that supported the back-rest were suspended his weapons and his medicine-bundle, each showing the wonderful skill of the maker. The quiver that held the arrows was combined with a case for the bow, and colored quills of the porcupine had been deftly used to make it a thing of beauty. All about the lodge hung the strangely painted linings, and the firelight added richness to both color and design. War Eagle's hair was white, for he had known many snows; but his eyes were keen and bright as a boy's, as he gazed in pride at his grandchildren across the lodge-fire. He was wise, and had been in many battles, for his was a warlike tribe. He knew all about the world and the people in it. He was deeply religious, and every Indian child loved him for his goodness and brave deeds.