The women are more fond of fiction, and some of their stories have a strange mingling of humor and pathos. I give the two which follow as specimens. The Indian names contained in them are in the Ottawa or “Courte Oreilles” language, but the same tales are current in all the different tongues and dialects.
THE STORY OF THE RED FOX
This is an animal to which many peculiarities are attributed. He is said to resemble the jackal in his habit of molesting the graves of the dead, and the Indians have a superstitious dread of hearing his bark at night, believing that it forebodes calamity and death. They say, too, that he was originally of one uniform reddish-brown color, but that his legs became black in the manner related in the story.
There was a chief of a certain village who had a beautiful daughter. He resolved upon one occasion to make a feast, and invite all the animals. When the invitation was brought to the red fox he inquired, “What are you going to have for supper?”
“Mee-dau-mee-nau-bo,” was the reply.
This is a porridge made of parched corn, slightly cracked. The fox turned up his little sharp nose. “No, I thank you,” said he, “I can get plenty of that at home.”
The messenger returned to the chief, and reported the contemptuous refusal of the fox.
“Go back to him,” said the chief, “and tell him we are going to have a nice fresh body,[AT] and we will have it cooked in the most delicate maimer possible.”
[AT] The Indians in relating a story like this, apologise for alluding to a revolting subject. “You will think this unpleasant,” they say.