Flying Plover: His stories, told him by Squat-by-the-fire

by Theodore Goodridge Roberts

"Then a wolf said, 'Yes, it may die, but I think it has cubs in every one of the frightened people's dens. And they will grow, quick as water running over a stone, and they, too, may have many cubs.'

"At last the flames ceased to dance at all on the ashes of the dead spruce tree, and the watching animals could see only a few red spots here and there. Hours went by, and still they sat on every hilltop overlooking the valley, howling and snarling and roaring, and staring with their wide, yellow eyes. At last they could see no sign of life at all in the fire. Then they shouted, one to another, that the terrible creature was dead; and a number of the bravest of them—three walruses, and several bears and wolves—stole down to see what kind of a dinner the body would make. That is what they were always thinking about everything—how it would feel in their stomachs.

On the way down to the valley, a bear and a walrus pushed against each other and immediately began to fight. Soon the smell of blood was strong in the air, and all the animals that had started down to try to eat the dead body of the fire tried to eat one another instead. Two great bears, with their claws and their teeth deep in each other's hides, went rolling down a steep side of a hill straight into the coals and ashes of the spruce tree. Of course the fire was not dead! There was a great bed of hot, red coals under the ashes. Little flames sprang up around the bodies of the fighting bears, and began to eat the long, thick coats of fur. The bears felt the awful stings, and quickly let go of each other and scrambled to their feet. Their backs and sides were smarting and their noses and paws were terribly blistered. They saw the red and yellow coals all about them, blinking and shining like the eyes of wicked devils—and their hearts melted with fear. Away they ran, howling and roaring, with the flames leaping high on their backs. It was a frightful sight. The animals that saw it, all dashed away to their dens, fearing that the dreadful red creatures might chase them and spring upon their backs as they had sprung upon the backs of the fighting bears. Even old King Walrus went heaving and lumbering away, and hid between two hummocks of rock. As for the unfortunate bears who had rolled into the fire, they ran straight ahead, without caring or seeing or thinking where they were running to. They were blind with terror and mad with pain. They ran and ran until at last one of them fell into Beaver River and the other into Black Fox Pond. Of course the water killed the fire on their backs and sides, but for a long time they just swam around and around in the cold water. At last, though they still smarted and ached all over, they knew that the terrible creatures had gone away from them. So they swam ashore—one to the bank of the river and one to the bank of the pond—and ran seaward as hard as they could. All they thought about was the quickest way of getting out of that terrible country.

"Away they ran, howling and roaring"

"Now it happened that Porcupine Killer and the other men of the tribe knew nothing about the trouble of the two bears and the fright which all the other animals had received. If they had known they would have felt very happy. They had heard more howls and yells and roars than usual, but did not know what the trouble was. When Porcupine Killer awoke he fed the coals of his fire with sticks of dry wood, and broiled several slices of caribou meat for breakfast. He was very merry, and could not help singing when he thought of how life had changed since the morning before. Now he and his wife and baby, and nearly every one in the tribe, had food to eat, and a warmth like sunlight in their caves, and a friend that struck terror to the hearts of the fierce animals. His wife awoke at the noise of his song (for he was not a very fine singer) and she, too, was happy as soon as the fog of sleep had passed from her mind and she remembered the wonderful thing that had happened. After they had eaten, Porcupine Killer said, 'I am going out to frighten the animals again—and to-day they shall be frightened more than they were yesterday. This wonderful thing that dances and whispers so peacefully on the floor of our cave is greater than all the fangs and claws and tusks of all the animals in the world. And it is my friend—the friend of the tribe. I shall hunt old King Walrus himself, and cause him to repent of the evil he has done.'

"The woman begged him not to be rash. The giant animals had ruled the country so long, and hunted men as men hunt hares and foxes now, that she could not believe that anything was stronger than the animals. But Porcupine Killer had no fear, since he had seen the power of the fire. He looked out of the mouth of the cave, and saw the ashes of the fire lying black and gray on the rocky ground. He looked all around the sides of the valley, lying quiet in the brightness of the autumn morning, and could not see so much as a skulking fox. He crawled out and looked to the right and left, at the holes in the rocky hillside where so many of his own people lived. He saw little wisps of smoke rising here and there from among the boulders and from the mouths of some of the caves. He shouted for the hidden warriors to come out. Winter Morning, the chief, and Broken Arrow were the first to appear. Porcupine Killer called to them that he was going on a great hunt, and that they should see wonderful things happen before the sun had reached the top of the sky.

"'We saw many wonders yesterday, great Magician,' said Winter Morning. 'What new wonders will you show us to-day?'

"'I am not a magician,' replied Porcupine Killer, who was an honest young man. 'But the wonder you shall see to-day will be the hunting of the fierce animals that have hunted us since the beginning of time.'