Part 19

When he had gone some distance, he shot an arrow ahead of him and it fell behind him, so he knew that he was still going his best. He went on for some days and at last saw the lodge of the magician. This second old man was as kind as the first and treated him in much the same way. He gave him food from a magic kettle exactly like the first, and then bade him stay the night. Then in the morning he said to him:

"My grandchild, you are following the Red Swan. Many a hunter has done the same and has never returned. For she is the sister of a great chief. He once had a wampum cap which was fastened to his scalp. One day some warriors came and told him that the daughter of their chief was very sick. She said the only thing that would cure her was this cap of wampum and that the sight of it would make her better at once. The chief did not like to lend his cap, for if he took it off, his head would be bare and bloody. But he thought again of the sick girl and at last gave it to the warriors.

"That is many years ago, but they have not returned the cap yet. They were cheats and are keeping it to make fun of it. They carry it from one village to another to dance around it, and at every mean thing they say, the old man groans with pain. Many young men have tried to get it for him, but all have failed. He has offered many gifts to the one who gets it, and even the Red Swan will belong to the successful one. She is a very beautiful maiden, and for her many young men have risked their lives. You are very brave and will face great dangers. Go as you have come, and you will be the one to win the precious wampum."

So Odjibaa travelled for several more days. At last he saw a lodge, but before he came up to it he could hear the groans of some one inside. Coming up to the door, he knocked, and a voice bade him come in. On entering he saw a very old man seated in one corner. His face was withered and his head bare and bloody. He seemed to be in great pain.

The young man spoke kindly to him and asked him how he lost his scalp. Then the old man told his story: how the young men had cheated him, and how they were abusing the scalp now. Odjibaa looked very sorry, and when the old man saw this, he began to coax him to try and get it back. He promised him blankets and many other things that make an Indian rich. But he did not mention the Red Swan. Odjibaa noticed that a wall divided the lodge into two parts. He guessed that the Red Swan was behind the wall, for he thought he heard her dress rustle. After he had talked with the old man, and had learned many things about the unfriendly Indians, he said:

"I shall go in search of the cap. When you hear the noise of a hawk, put your head out of the door, so I may put the scalp on you quickly."

Early next morning he set out, and before the day was over had come near the Indian village. As he drew near he could hear the sound of much shouting, and in a few minutes could see hundreds of warriors dancing and yelling around a pole. On the top of this pole was the scalp. He changed himself into a humming-bird and flew by their heads. When they heard the soft, humming noise, they said, "What is that?" He flew on, until he came near the pole. Then he changed himself into a blue butterfly and fluttered up to it. He took the scalp in his mouth and lifted it from the pole. A mighty shout went up from the Indians when they saw what was happening. But they could not reach the butterfly, as it was so high up in the air. It began to float slowly away with the scalp. This was hard work, and the load was almost too heavy for Odjibaa, but he hung on until he was safe outside the village. Then he changed himself into a hawk and flew rapidly away. When he came near the lodge of the old man, he uttered the cry of the hawk. The old man put his head out, and with a great blow Odjibaa clapped his scalp on. The old man fell senseless and lay very still for a long time.

Odjibaa entered the lodge and sat down to wait. At length the old man opened his eyes and arose. But he was no longer an old man. Instead there stood a handsome, young warrior. He reached out his hand to Odjibaa and said:

"I can never thank you for all you have done for me. See, you have given me back my youth and strength. Now I shall never grow old. You must stay and live with me and I shall make you a great chief." Odjibaa replied:

"No, I must go back to my brothers. I shall leave early to-morrow morning." Then the magician began to get ready a bundle for Odjibaa. He put blankets, beads, feathers, and paints in it, but he said no word about the Red Swan, and Odjibaa did not like to ask him. The next morning the hunter said good-bye to the magician and prepared to go.

"Wait, my friend," he said, as he opened the door in the wall. A beautiful maiden stepped forth. "This is my sister, Red Swan. She is to be yours, as you saved my scalp."

Odjibaa was overjoyed at this. He thanked the magician again; then taking the maiden by the hand, they set out for his home.

THE WHISPERING GRASS

Once, many long years ago, there was a green hill covered with long grass, which whispered and talked as the wind blew through it. It was the great friend of all the animals, especially the wild deer, the gray wolf, and the fox.

One summer day the whispering grass was very excited. The south wind had brought strange news to it, and now, as the sun rose up to noonday, they could see this strange thing for themselves. It meant great danger to their friends the animals, and they must send a message to warn them. So the grass called to the butterflies, and told them to go at once to the deer, the wolf, and the fox, and tell them to come to the green hill. Away flew the butterflies, and soon the animals had gathered to hear what this message might mean.

"Listen, my brothers," said the whispering grass. "There is great danger for you this day, for across the prairie there comes a band of hunters to take your lives."

"Hunters? What are they?" asked the animals. "We have never heard of such things."

"They are Indians," returned the grass, "with bows and arrows--deadly arrows that will pierce your hearts. These hunters are very near, and once they see you they will shoot their arrows at you, and that is your end."

"What must we do?" asked the animals. "You are wise, whispering grass; tell us what we may do to save ourselves."

"Go to your homes," answered the grass, "and remain there until sundown to-morrow. If all is safe, I shall send my messengers, the butterflies, to you at that hour to tell you to come to me."

The animals did as they were commanded, and by the time the hunters reached the foot of the hill, there was nothing living to be seen but some dainty butterflies that hovered above the grass. The remainder of that day and all the next the hunters searched for game in the hills, but not a deer could they see, not a wolf, not a fox. In the late afternoon they returned to their camp at the foot of the hill. They were tired and very hungry, for they had not brought food with them, as they expected to find game.

"Let us return," said one hunter. "There is no game in this land, and I am hungry. Let us go back to our village."

"Not so," said the second hunter. "Let us wait until to-morrow. Perhaps to-morrow we shall see game."

"Yes, let us wait until to-morrow," said a third hunter, "and to-night we shall eat grass. See, yonder is a hill well covered with grass. If the animals eat it, why can not we?"

"But it is whispering grass," said the first hunter, in a low voice. "And he who eats of whispering grass can no longer kill anything with his arrows."

"Not so, brother," said the second hunter. "It is not whispering grass. Listen; there is a west wind blowing through it, and yet we can hear no sound of whispering."

They all listened intently, and as the second hunter had said, there was no sound of whispering. The wind was waving the grass blades and bending them low, and not a sound came from them.

"You are right. It is not whispering grass," said the first hunter, "and I am hungry; let us eat."