During the long winter nights or during the periods of cold or inclement weather in which the Indians may not venture out, they sit around the fire and relate stories intended for the instruction as well as entertainment of the younger people. The older men have a great stock of these stories, and many of the women are noted for their ability in entertaining the children, who sit, with staring eyes and open mouth, in the arms of their parents or elders.
The following stories came to me directly and not through the medium of another white person, and probably I am the only white person who has heard some of them. I have endeavored to give them as nearly in the form of the original as the differences between the English and the Indian languages will permit.
[ Story of the wolverene and the brant.—]
A wolverene calling all the birds together addressed them thus: “Do you not know that I am your brother? Come to me and I will dress you in feathers.” After having dressed them up he made wings for himself and said: “Now, brothers, let us fly.” The brant told the wolverene, “You must not look below while we are flying over the point of land when you hear a noise below. Take a turn when we take a turn.”
The first turn they took the wolverene did not look below, but at the second turn they took, when they came over the point of land, the animal looked below when he heard the noise of the shouting Indians and down he came like a bundle of rags.[2]
All the Indians ran up to him and exclaimed “There is a brant fallen down.” One of the old Indian women got hold of him and began to pluck his feathers off, then to disembowel him. She of course smelled the horrible stench and exclaimed, “This goose is not fit to eat as it is already rotten!” She gave the carcass to one of the children to throw away. Another old woman came up and inquired, “Where did you throw the brant goose to? How could it be rotten? It is not long since it was killed.” The former old woman replied to her, “Go and see, if you do not believe.” She went and found nothing but the dead wolverene.
[2] When the Indians perceive a flock of these brant they make a loud clamor, which frightens the birds so much that they lose their senses, fall to the ground and are thus killed. These birds are only seen in the spring migrations and then in great multitudes, while in the fall it is rare to see even a single individual, as they have a different return route than in spring.
[ Story of the wolverene.—]
A wolverene was running along the seashore and perceived a number of geese, brant, ducks, and loons sitting in the water a short distance off. The wolverene addressing them said, “Come here, brothers. I have found a pretty bees’ nest. I will give it to you if you will come on shore and have a dance.” All the birds went on land. The wolverene said, “Let us have a dance and I will sing. Shut your eyes and do not open them until we are done dancing.” He began to sing, “A-ho´u-mu-hou-mu´-mu´-hŭm´.” The last word was so often repeated (accompanied with the act of the wolverene snipping off the heads of the birds) that the loon opened one eye and saw the headless ducks kicking. The loon ran to the water and exclaimed, “Our brother has killed us!” The wolverene ran after the loon but the loon dived under the water and came up a distance off and cried out, “A ho ho ho ho ho ho!” The wolverene screamed, “Hold your tongue, you red-eyed fowl.” The wolverene returned to where the ducks had been killed; plucked their feathers off and cleaned them; put them into a large kettle and boiled them.
While attending to the cooking he saw a whisky-jack (Us´ ka tcon) (Perisoreus canadensis) flying about. The wolverene took a firebrand and threw it at the bird, exclaiming, “You will be telling on me, you long-tongued bird!” The jay flew away and told the Indians that “Our brother (wolverene) has killed a lot of ducks and has them cooked,” adding, “I think he is sleeping. I’ll show you where he is if you will come.” The Indians replied, “We will go, for we are very hungry.” They went and found the wolverene asleep alongside the pot. The Indians ate all of the meat of the ducks. After they had finished the meat they put the bones back into the kettle and went away. The wolverene awakened after a time, took his dish and said to himself, “Now, I shall have my dinner.” He poured all the broth into his dish and found nothing but the bones remaining. In his surprise he said, “Surely, I have been sleeping a long time; the meat is all boiled away.” The jay told him that he had told the Indians. The wolverene said, “Why did you tell? you stupid bird; I was keeping a nice piece of fat for you.[3] You will not, now, get it for your impudence.”