A Guide to Mythology

by Helen A. Clarke

As death drew near, he addressed his family in these words: “You,” said he turning to his wife, “you, who have been the companion of my life, shall join me in the Isle of the Blessed. You have not long to suffer. But oh, my children!” and he turned his eyes affectionately upon them, “you have just commenced life; and, mark me, unkindness, ingratitude, and every wickedness is before you. I left my tribe and kindred to come to this unfrequented place, because of the evils of which I have just warned you. I have contented myself with the company of your mother and yourselves, for I was solicitous that you might be kept from bad example; and I shall die contented if you, my children, promise to cherish each other, and not to forsake your youngest brother.”

Exhausted with speaking, the dying hunter closed his eyes for a few moments, and then, rousing himself with great effort, he took the hand of his two eldest children and said: “My daughter, never forsake your youngest brother. My son, never forsake your youngest brother.”

“Never! never!” responded both; and the hunter sank back upon his pallet and soon expired.

His wife, according to his predictions, followed him after the brief expiration of eight months; but in her last moments she reminded the two children of the promise made their father. During the winter following their mother’s death, the two elder children were exceedingly thoughtful in regard to their brother, who was a mere child and very delicate and sickly; but when the winter had passed away, the young man became restless, and at length determined to break his promise to his father, and seek the village of his father’s tribe.

He communicated this determination to his sister, who replied: “My brother, I cannot wonder at your desire, as we are not prohibited the society of our fellow-men; but we were told to cherish each other, and protect our little brother. If we follow our own inclinations, we may forget him.”

To this the young man made no reply, but, taking his bow and arrows, left the lodge and never returned. Several moons passed after his departure, during which the girl tenderly watched over her little brother; but at length the solitude of her life became unendurable, and she began to meditate escaping from the care of her brother, and leaving him alone in his helplessness. She gathered into the lodge a large amount of food, and then said to her brother, “My brother, do not leave the lodge; I go to seek our brother, and shall soon return.”

Then she went in search of the village of her tribe, where she hoped to find her elder brother. When she reached the village, she was so delighted with the novelty of society and the pleasure of seeing others of her own age that she entirely forgot her little brother. She found her elder brother nicely settled in life, he having married very happily; and, on receiving a proposal of marriage herself, abandoned all thought of returning to the solitary lodge in the forest, accepting a home in the village with the young man who became her husband.

As soon as the little brother had eaten all the food collected by his sister, he went into the woods and picked berries and dug up roots. That satisfied his hunger as long as the weather was mild; but, when the winter drew on, he was obliged to wander about in very great distress for want of food. He often passed his nights in the clefts and hollows of old trees, and was glad to eat the refuse-meat left by the wolves; and he became so fearless of those animals that he would sit by them while they devoured their prey, and the animals themselves were so accustomed to him that they seemed pleased with his presence, and always left some of their food for him. Thus the little boy lived on through the winter, succored from hunger by the wild beasts of the woods.

When the winter had passed away and the ice had melted from the Great Lake, he followed the wolves to its open shore. It happened one day that his elder brother was fishing in his canoe on the lake, and, hearing the cry of a child, hastened to the shore, where at a short distance from him he discovered his little brother, who was singing plaintively these lines:

Nesia, Nesia, shug wuh, gushuh!