The Indian Fairy Book / From the Original Legends

by Henry Rowe Schoolcraft

They did so promptly, and, by the command of their father, they boiled some corn and prepared several other palatable dishes. The savor was most delicious to the nostrils of the hungry brother, who had not the least suspicion of the sport that was going on at his expense.

He was faint and weary with travel, and he felt that he could endure fasting no longer; for his appetite was terribly inflamed by the sight of the choice food that was steaming before him.

He fell to and partook heartily of the meal; and by so doing he was overcome and lost his right of revenge. All at once he forgot the blood of his sisters, and even the village of his nativity; he also forgot his father's lodge, and his whole past life. He ate so keenly, and came and went to the choice dishes so often, that drowsiness at length overpowered him, and he soon fell into a profound sleep.

Onwee Bahmondang watched his opportunity, and as soon as he saw that the false brother's sleep was sound, he resumed his youthful form and sent off the two fairy daughters and the old garden. Then drawing the magic-ball from his back, and turning it into a great war-club, he fetched the slumbering brother a mighty blow, which sent him away too. And thus did Onwee Bahmondang vindicate his title as The Wearer of the Ball.

Such was the great force and weight of the club with which he had despatched the brother of the two wicked women that it swung Onwee straight around, and he found himself in a large village, surrounded by a great crowd of people. At the door of a beautiful lodge stood his sister, smiling, and ready to invite him in. Onwee entered, and hanging up his war-club and the enchanted moccasins, he rested from his labors and smoked his evening pipe, with the admiration and approval of the whole world.

With one exception only, Onwee Bahmondang had the hearty praises of all the people.

Now it happened that there lived in this same village an envious and boastful fellow, who had been once a chief. Always coming home badly whipped, he had been put out of office, and now spent his time about the place, proclaiming certain great things which he had in his eye and which he meant to do—one of these days.

This man's name was Ko-ko, the Owl; and hearing much of the wonderful achievements of the Wearer of the Ball, Ko-ko put on a big look and announced that he was going to do something extraordinary himself.

Onwee Bahmondang, he said, had not half done his work, and he, Ko-ko, meant to go on the ground and finish it up as it should he.

He began by procuring an oak ball, which he thrust down his back, and, confident in its magical powers, he, too, called himself The Wearer of the Ball. In fact it was the self-same hall that Onwee had employed, except that the magic had entirely gone out of it. Coming by night in the shadow of Onwee's lodge, this bad fellow thrust his arm in at the door and stealthily possessed himself of the enchanted moccasins. He would have taken away Onwee's war-club, too, if he could have carried it; but although he was twice the size and girth of Onwee, he had not the strength to lift it; so he borrowed a club from an old chief, who was purblind and mistook Ko-ko for his brother, who was a brave man. This accomplished, Ko-ko raised a terrible tumult with his voice and a great dust with his heels, and set out.