So one time the Beaver sent a man to invite all the people to another feast. He sent the messages all through the camp. Now the people told the Otter this time, “You must not come; you never keep your mouth shut; you always laugh. If you only knew enough to keep still like the rest of us, it would be all right, but you had better stay home.” “Oh well, all right,” said the Otter, “I’ll stay back.” All went to the feast except the Otter. But he asked the others, “You will have to bring my share to me, since I can’t come. Tell the chief to send me my share.” The others agreed and went to attend the feast; but they asked him, “How big a piece of grease do you want?” The Otter replied, “Bring me a piece the size of my forearm.” (The otter has a very small forearm.) When the guests arrived at the feast, the Beaver chief saw that the Otter was not with them. Said he, “Where, indeed, is Otter? I like him because he is so funny.” They informed him that the Otter had not come, but that he wanted the chief to send him a piece of grease as large as his forearm. The Beaver cut a piece that size and sent it to the Otter; that is all the Otter got. He did not get very much because he had such a short forearm. That is the end of my story.
(7) Tcaka·bįs.
Tcaka·bįs lived with his grandmother. One time he made a long journey and was away for quite a while. He came to where there were some giant women who were scraping frozen beaver skins, “kąc, kąc.” He returned home and told his grandmother, “I heard the giant women scraping beaver hides.” [[55]]“Don’t go near them,” said his grandmother. And she repeated this warning often to Tcaka·bįs.
However, one day he returned to where he had heard the giant women, and when he reached the lake, there they were, chasing beaver on the ice. When he came up, they knew him and cried out, “Ee, come on, come on, Tcaka·bįs!” So he went over to them and they said, “There is a beaver here and you must pull him up.” Tcaka·bįs was small and they thought the beaver would pull him through the hole into the ice. But he caught hold of the beaver’s tail and pulled him through all right. Then they asked him to stay with them, but he went away after he had stolen the big beaver tail, six feet long, and went back to his grandmother. When he got home, he showed her the tail, and she asked, “Did you steal it?” “No, no,” answered he. Then he made a door for their wigwam out of the tail.
Soon the giant woman came to where he lived and called. “Tcaka·bįs, you are a dead man!” They came for the purpose of eating Tcaka·bįs and his grandmother. Then the grandmother said, “I told you not to go there. Now they say you are a dead man.” But Tcaka·bįs said, “Don’t be afraid, grandmother. I will take care of you.” Then he took his witch stone[26] and threw it up inside the wigwam, and the whole wigwam turned to stone except a little hole in the top for the smoke to come through. The stone was so thick that they were unable to hear the giant women pounding on the outside. Then the giant women went away and Tcaka·bįs lay inside of the wigwam in safety. But he felt a little sick, because he had eaten too much beaver fat.
Some time after this, Tcaka·bįs went back again to the giant women and found them pounding up and boiling moose bones to make soup. As he came up, one of the giant women seized him and threw him into the pot. There he stayed for a long time, boiling and circling round and round in the pot, but still he was alive. At last, when the giant women needed grease, they dipped up Tcaka·bįs with a wooden spoon and threw him outside. Then Tcaka·bįs went back to his grandmother. He was very thin, because he had been boiled so long, nothing but skin and bones. That’s the end; he was a small fellow. [[56]]
(8) Aniwɔ·ye,[27] the Giant Skunk, and the Origin of Skunks.
Aniwɔ·ye was the monster Skunk. He used to travel all over this world, trying to find the Ojibwa. He hunted them to kill them. He often took the form of a man. Whenever he would encounter people, he would approach them et pepedit towards their camp with his back to them, killing the people malo ejus odore. In those days there was no other sickness. That was the only sickness which people had to kill them.
Once upon a time in a camp where there were lots of people, hunters of a big band, they beheld the tracks of Aniwɔ·ye near one of their trails. It was winter time. When they saw these tracks, they turned back from their object because they were afraid Aniwɔ·ye would see their own tracks and follow them to camp and kill all their people. On this account they started off in every direction in order to lead Aniwɔ·ye away from the camp and so save their own people and possibly themselves. Said they, “We will go to Big Fisher lake, where the Big Fisher lives.” So they started off. But there was one old woman who could hardly see. She could not travel with them, so they had to leave her, as nobody could carry her.
Soon Aniwɔ·ye found their trails and followed them, and soon he came to the wigwam in which the people had left the old woman. He looked in the door and saw her sitting near the fire. “Where are all your people?” he asked her. “They have gone away,” she answered. “They saw Aniwɔ·ye’s track and departed. But I am too old. I can’t see, I can’t walk; so they left me here.” This poor old woman thought it was a young man who spoke to her; she did not know, indeed, that it was Aniwɔ·ye himself. Then Aniwɔ·ye spoke, “If you can’t walk, I can cure you, so that you will be as well and strong as you ever were.” So he turned his back to her et pepedit. He blew the wigwam and the old woman all to pieces.