Seeing that it was time to begin, the people fell back and gave room to the players. When the word was given the players came forward, and the chief said: “I will take my place on this side.” “No; you shall not,” said the other; “you gave the challenge, and I will choose my place.” The chief had to yield, the dog-man choosing the side the chief wanted. They then began to play. “Now,” said the little dog to the hunter in the woods, “our brother has begun the game, which will be a very close contest.” Soon he said: “The chief’s ball has missed the goal; they play well; our brother has caught and sent the ball back. Oh! now he has won an inning. They will play one more inning.” All at once he called out: “They have begun again. It is a very close game. Our brother is having all he can do. We may be beaten, however.” Then he called out: “Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the game. You are chief, and all the old chief has is ours.”
As the dog-man had won two straight games, he caught the chief by the hair and cut his head off. Many of the people thanked him. They said that the old chief had never spared them; that when he had been the loser he had always given the people up to slaughter and saved his own life. The winner seemed to have won many friends among those who witnessed the game. The little dog said: “Now we shall go home.” They had been there but a short time when the ball player came in; giving back the man’s garments, he immediately became a dog again.
When the old people came into the lodge they thanked their son, saying: “You have done more than anyone else was ever able to do before. You are the chief now.” As they praised their son they did not know that it was a dog that had done the work.
The next morning the little dog said: “Let us go to live in the chief’s lodge.” So the hunter, with the old man and his family, [[236]]moved into the new lodge. All the old chief’s things had been left in their places, as they were part of the wager. Now, as the dogs were so full of orenda, he became a great chief and had much power and influence among the people.
[The narrator of the foregoing story said: “It is true that whenever a person loves a dog he derives great power from it. Dogs still know all we say, only they are not at liberty to speak. If you do not love a dog, he has power to injure you by his orenda.”]
47. Ganyadjigowa[85]
There was a man named Ganyadjigowa who lived in a lodge on a bay opening into a lake. One morning he went out in a bark canoe to fish, but catching no fish he came home and put the canoe away. Soon after this he said, “Well, I must go somewhere,” so he walked along the shore of the lake until he came to its outlet, where he saw a lodge, which he entered. Finding no one at home and seeing plenty of meat, he ate what he wanted, and was starting off with a supply when he saw somebody with a big load of meat coming up from the lake. This was an old man named Twentgowa. They met and greeted each other, Ganyadjigowa saying, “I came to visit you; I have been in your lodge.” “Well, come back with me,” said Twentgowa.[86] “No, I must go on,” said Ganyadjigowa. “Come again,” said Twentgowa.
Ganyadjigowa did not go back, because he had stolen some of the meat. He swam across the outlet of the lake, and, keeping along the bank, he soon saw another lodge. Peeping into it he saw a large family—two old people and their children; these were Hongak people. After standing a while he thought, “I will go in,” and he did so. The inmates greeted him with, “Where do you come from?” “From the other side of the lake,” answered Ganyadjigowa. “What do you come for?” they asked him. “Oh! to look around; it is so pleasant to-day,” Ganyadjigowa replied. “How far will you go?” he was asked. “Around the lake,” he answered.
The two men became good friends. Then Hongak[87] said, “I must go with you, my friend.” “Very well,” said Ganyadjigowa, and they started along the shore. At midday they came to the mouth of a river and Ganyadjigowa asked, “How can we cross the river?” “Let us swim,” said Hongak; “I suppose you know how to swim.” “Very well, indeed,” said Ganyadjigowa. So they swam across the river and then walked on till they saw a rock, then many rocks. As they went along the path grew narrower and narrower. Hongak was ahead. Ganyadjigowa picked up a stone, and tying a bark string around it hung it on Hongak’s back, so that he could not walk, for he kept slipping back. Ganyadjigowa said to him, “Go on! I am in a hurry. I want to get home before dark.” “Let me go, then,” [[237]]said Hongak; “do not pull me back.” “I am not pulling you back,” replied Ganyadjigowa; “I will go ahead if you like. Wait and I will pass you.”