THE MAN OF ICE
Cherokee
ONCE when the people were burning the woods in the fall, a poplar tree began to burn. It burned until the fire went down into the roots; and then down into the ground. It burned and burned until there was a great hole in the ground, and the people began to be afraid the whole world would burn. They tried to put out the fire, but it was too deep in the ground.
At last someone said, “There is a man living in a house of ice, far toward the Frozen Land. He can put out the fire.”
So messengers were sent. They traveled many sleeps until they came to the house of the Man of Ice. He was a little fellow with long braids of hair, hanging to the ground.
He said at once, “Oh, yes, I can help you,” and began to unbraid his hair. When it was all loose, he took it in one hand and struck the ends against the other hand. The messengers felt a wind blow against their cheeks.
He struck the ends of his hair again across his hand. A light rain began to fall. A third time he struck the open hand with his hair. Sleet began to fall with the rain. The fourth time, and large hailstones fell. They fell as though they came out of the ends of his hair.
“Now go home,” said the medicine man. “I shall be there tomorrow.”
So the messengers returned. They found the people standing around the burning hole.