were always unsuccessful.
“I will go and see them,” said Pauppukkeewis.
The chief of the village warned him of the danger he would run, but finding him resolved, said—
“Well, if you will go, since you are my guest, I will send twenty warriors with you.”
Pauppukkeewis thanked him for this. Twenty young men offered themselves for the expedition. They went forward, and in a short time descried the lodge of the manitoes. Pauppukkeewis placed his friend and the warriors near him so that they might see all that passed, and then he went alone into the lodge. When he entered he found five horrible-looking manitoes eating. These were the father and four sons. Their appearance was hideous. Their eyes were set low in their heads as if the manitoes were half starved. They offered Pauppukkeewis part of their meat, but he refused it.
“What have you come for?” asked the old one.
“Nothing,” answered Pauppukkeewis.
At this they all stared at him.
“Do you not wish to wrestle?” they all asked.
“Yes,” replied he.
A hideous smile passed over their faces.
“You go,” said the others to their eldest brother.
Pauppukkeewis and his antagonist were soon clinched in each other’s arms. He knew the manitoes’ object—they wanted his flesh—but he was prepared for them.
“Haw, haw!” they cried, and the dust and dry leaves flew about the wrestlers as if driven by a strong wind.
The manito was strong, but Pauppukkeewis soon found he could master him. He tripped him up, and threw him with a giant’s force head foremost on a stone, and he fell insensible.
The brothers stepped up in quick succession, but Pauppukkeewis put his tricks in full play, and soon all the four lay bleeding on the ground. The old manito got frightened, and ran for his life. Pauppukkeewis pursued him for sport. Sometimes he was before him, sometimes over his head. Now he would give him a kick, now a push, now a trip, till the manito was quite exhausted. Meanwhile Pauppukkeewis’s friend and the warriors came up, crying—
“Ha, ha, a! Ha, ha, a! Pauppukkeewis is driving him before him.”
At length Pauppukkeewis threw the manito to the ground with such force that he lay senseless, and the warriors, carrying him off, laid him with the bodies of his sons, and set fire to the whole, consuming them to ashes.
Around the lodge Pauppukkeewis and his friends saw a large number of bones, the remains of the warriors whom the manitoes had slain. Taking three arrows, Pauppukkeewis called upon the Great Spirit, and then, shooting an arrow in the air, he cried—
“You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit.”
The bones at these words all collected in one place. Again Pauppukkeewis shot another arrow into the air, crying—
“You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit,” and each bone drew towards its fellow.
Then he shot a third arrow, crying—
“You, who are lying down, rise up, or you will be hit,” and the bones immediately came together, flesh came over them, and the warriors, whose remains they were, stood before Pauppukkeewis alive and well.
He led them to the chief of the village, who had been his friend, and gave them up to him. Soon after, the chief with his counsellors came to him, saying—
“Who is more worthy to rule than you? You alone can defend us.”
Pauppukkeewis thanked the chief, but told him he must set out again in search of further adventures. The chief and the counsellors pressed him to remain, but he was resolved to leave them, and so he told the chief to make his friend ruler while he himself went on his travels.
“I will come again,” said he, “sometime and see you.”
“Ho, ho, ho!” they all cried, “come back again and see us.”
He promised that he would, and set out alone.
After travelling for some time, he came to a large lake, and on looking about he saw an enormous otter on an island. He thought to himself—
“His skin will make me a fine pouch,” and, drawing near, he drove an arrow into the otter’s side. He waded into the lake, and with some difficulty dragged the carcass ashore. He took out the entrails, but even then the carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to drag it up a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got it into the sunshine, where it was warm, he skinned the otter, and threw the carcass away, for he said to himself—
“The war-eagle will come, and then I shall have a chance to get his skin and his feathers to put on my head.”
Very soon he heard a noise in the air, but he could see nothing. At length a large eagle dropped, as if from the sky, on to the otter’s carcass. Pauppukkeewis drew his bow and sent an arrow through the bird’s body. The eagle made a dying effort and lifted the carcass up several feet, but it could not disengage its claws, and the weight soon brought the bird down again.
Then Pauppukkeewis skinned the bird, crowned his head with its feathers, and set out again on his journey.
After walking a while he came to a lake, the water of which came right up to the trees on its banks. He soon saw that the lake had been made by beavers. He took his station at a certain spot to see whether any of the beavers would show themselves. Soon he saw the head of one peeping out of the water to see who the stranger was.
“My friend,” said Pauppukkeewis, “could you not turn me into a beaver like yourself?”
“I do not know,” replied the beaver; “I will go and ask the others.”
Soon all the beavers showed their heads above the water, and looked to see if Pauppukkeewis was armed, but he had left his bow and arrows in a hollow tree a short distance off. When they were satisfied they all came near.
“Can you not, with all your united power,” said he, “turn me into a beaver? I wish to live among you.”
“Yes,” answered the chief, “lie down;” and Pauppukkeewis soon found himself changed into one of them.
“You must make me large,” said he, “larger than any of you.”
“Yes, yes,” said they; “by and by, when we get into the lodge, it shall be done.”
They all dived into the lake, and Pauppukkeewis, passing large heaps of limbs of trees and logs at the bottom, asked the use of them. The beavers answered—
“They are our winter provisions.”
When they all got into the lodge their number was about one hundred. The lodge was large and warm.
“Now we will make you large,” said they, exerting all their power. “Will that do?”
“Yes,” he answered, for he found he was ten times the size of the largest.
“You need not go out,” said they. “We will bring your food into the lodge, and you shall be our chief.”
“Very well,” answered Pauppukkeewis. He thought—
“I will stay here and grow fat at their expense,” but very soon a beaver came into the lodge out of breath, crying—
“We are attacked by Indians.”
All huddled together in great fear. The water began to lower, for the hunters had broken down the dam, and soon the beavers heard them on the roof of the lodge, breaking it in. Out jumped all the beavers and so escaped. Pauppukkeewis tried to follow them, but, alas! they had made him so large that he could not creep out at the hole. He called to them to come back, but none answered.