(6) Wiske·djak’s Love Affair.
Wiske·djak never got married to a woman. But he pretended to get married. One time he dressed himself like a woman, with skirts, and tried to deceive a young man, so that he thought Wiske·djak was his wife. Wiske·djak pretended to be jealous of the man when he went away. The other people knew that it was Wiske·djak all the time and laughed to themselves and made fun of the pair. The young man lived with Wiske·djak for some time, thinking it was his wife. But the other people made fun of the young man so much that at last he left Wiske·djak. Several times he got young men to live with him as their wife, but at last they all left him and he went away by himself. He was a queer fellow, that Wiske·djak. He never got married because he would not be bothered with a woman, as he had to be travelling all the time. [[17]]
(7) Ciŋgəbis.
Ciŋgəbis was a remarkable fellow, a wonderful diver who could stay underneath the water all day if he wanted to. He was married and lived with his wife’s people. One time he had some kind of a dispute with them and they would not give in to him. So he said he would go away. As it was winter time, there was a water hole in the ice on the lake, and he went down and slid into the water and disappeared. His relatives spent all day hunting for him along the shores, thinking he might come up along the edge, but he did not. Then they went home and gave him up. In a few months, when his wife’s brothers were out on the lake in their canoe, they spied a little duck swimming a long way off, and paddled up to him. This was Ciŋgəbis. When they got near, they recognized him and asked him, “Are you not Ciŋgəbis?” “Yes,” said he. “We thought you were drowned. Are you coming back again?” “No,” said he, and fluttered his wings and sank out of sight, leaving only his bill above the water, which they could not see. This time he stayed under all day, and when night came, he left the country. His wife’s people thought he was either dead or gone.
Then Ciŋgəbis travelled to another village, where he heard there was a beautiful girl. When he saw her all dressed up in fine clothes, new and beaded, he wanted to marry her, and asked her parents for her. “Who are you?” they asked him. “I am Ciŋgəbis,” said he. “Why, we heard you were drowned,” said they. “It is not true. Here I am. I am Ciŋgəbis and alive.” “You cannot be Ciŋgəbis, because there is only one Ciŋgəbis, and we heard he was drowned. But if you are, you cannot marry the girl, because you have another wife.” Now Ciŋgəbis wanted the girl and stayed in the camp. He would not leave. So that night they put one of the girl’s brothers to sleep alongside of him, so that he could not secretly get to the wigwam where the girls slept. During the night he talked with the brother and told him that he would show them how he could stay under water if they would give him the girl. The next morning the young man told his parents about it and they talked it over. They thought it might be good for their boys to know how to stay under water, and at last gave their consent. So they gave [[18]]Ciŋgəbis the girl, and the next day went out on the lake to see him dive. The whole family got in the canoe and they paddled out to the middle of the lake. “Now,” said he, “let me out here.” Then he slid into the water and with his body stiff sank slowly until he was out of sight. Then he struck out under water and reached the shore where he hid under some rushes, just leaving his bill above the water. His nostrils were at the end of his bill, so he could breathe with only a bit above water. They waited for him half the day and, though the water was calm, could not see him, so they gave him up and went home. That night he came back, to their surprise.
They planned to go out again the next day and see him dive again. The next day they went out and Ciŋgəbis dove again and swam among some reeds. He got under one lying flat, and pushed it just a little above the water so that his nostrils were out of water, yet covered by the stem of the rush. There he stayed a couple of hours out of sight. When they were about to leave again, Ciŋgəbis shouted, “He! Here I am. Can you see me?” They looked all around but could not see him. Then he came up in sight and went back to the canoe. He explained how his nostrils were out at the end of his bill and how he got under the reeds and hid there. Then he explained how in the winter time he could dive through an air hole in the ice and swim to where the rushes grew up through the ice, pull down one of the stalks, and put his bill in the opening and get all the air he wanted. Said he, “I can stay there a week or a month, if I want, only I get hungry. Then I dive to the bottom and eat some little mussels and things on the bottom and come up to the hole again. In that way I can get along under the ice all winter if I like.” That is how he did.
Now, before long, his first wife’s family heard that Ciŋgəbis was alive and living with another woman. They got angry and began to conjure to bring sickness upon his new wife and her family. When his new wife and her people heard of this, they were angry at Ciŋgəbis and wanted him to go away. But he would not consent. At last he made an offer, because his mother-in-law wanted her daughter to leave him. He told them that he would give up his new wife and her family if they would succeed in getting her away from him unknown to him. [[19]]When they heard this, they began planning. For a whole year they thought of different plans. At last the old mother-in-law said she had a plan, and told everyone in the family to help her get up a big dance and invite all the people to come. Ciŋgəbis was very jealous of his wife and had his camp apart from the others, lest some man might take a fancy to his wife and take her away. His jealousy was known everywhere and he never let her out of sight. Knowing this, the old mother-in-law made her plan. She sent a special invitation to Ciŋgəbis and his wife and told her sons to try to get him to come. Now Ciŋgəbis suspected some trick and told his wife not to go to the dance. “If I have to go, you must stay here at home and not move away from the wigwam.”
When the night of the dance came, they got everything ready—the drum and rattles, and everybody was coming from every camp. They prepared a kind of drink out of boiled bark and herbs with tobacco juice in it, that would make people dizzy when they drank it. Ciŋgəbis did not want to go to the dance at first, but everybody coaxed him until he started. But he told his wife to stay at home and not leave for anything. Now this was just what the old woman depended on, because she knew how jealous Ciŋgəbis was. When the dance began, everybody began drinking some of the strong herb liquor and it went to their heads and made them feel good, and dizzy. The old woman told her sons to keep Ciŋgəbis well supplied with the drink and not to let him leave until late. She then waited until the dancing was well started and everybody was warmed up to it. Then she quietly slipped away when she saw that Ciŋgəbis was dancing hard and feeling good with the drink. He had almost forgotten about his wife and what might happen. The old woman went off into the woods to where there was a dead spruce stump that was full of ants. She cut off the stump and got a piece about the length of a person. The ants are asleep in the cold of night and will not rouse when disturbed. The stump she took with her to Ciŋgəbis’ wigwam and quietly called to her daughter inside. “Come, daughter, I have come to take you home away from Ciŋgəbis,” she whispered. “You get up out of bed and leave everything as it is.” “All right,” said the girl, and she packed up a few of her things and came out. [[20]]Then the old woman took the stump full of ants in and put it beneath the rabbitskin blanket, covered it up just like the girl’s figure sleeping there, and the two then fled to the mother’s camp.
Ciŋgəbis stayed late at the dance. He drank a great deal of the liquor and got pretty dizzy before he thought about going home. At last he left the dance and started for his wigwam. He entered quietly. “Are you asleep?” he asked of his wife. There was no answer. “Aha! that’s good,” said he. “I’ll let her sleep and then there will be no danger of her being carried away tonight, as I am very sleepy with my weariness and cannot keep awake to watch her tonight. That’s good; she is sound asleep.” And he felt her blanket and found what he thought was her figure beneath the rabbitskin. Then he lay down quietly beside her, so as not to awaken her, and pretty soon was fast asleep.
Before long some of the ants got warmed up by his body and began crawling over him. “Oh! what’s that crawling over me! Do you know what it is that is creeping over us?” he asked his wife, and gave the stump another poke with his elbow. No answer. “Well, you are asleep yet. But that’s good. There won’t be any danger of your walking about the camp attracting the other men while I am asleep. But oh! how those things bite. I wonder what they are!” Then he dozed off again and was awakened again by the ants stinging him. He managed to bear it all night, and in the morning woke up suddenly, all bitten up. He jumped up, threw off the rabbitskin blanket, and instead of his wife there lay the old rotten spruce stump swarming with ants.