XVIII: LITTLE BEAR: AN OJIBWAY LEGEND
Once upon a time there was an old Indian couple who had three daughters, but no son. The two older girls were very beautiful; but the youngest was plain and unlovely. Yet she was the wisest of the three. Her name was Little Bear.
Now, there came a time when the father and mother grew too old to work as they had done all their lives. It became necessary that the two older daughters, who were strapping big girls, should go away to find work in order to take care of the family.
"Take me with you," begged Little Bear.
But the older sisters shook their heads.
"No," they answered; "you would be of no use to us. You are too little. You must stay at home."
The two sisters started upon their journey alone. But they had not gone far when they heard the patter of feet behind them. They looked around, and there was Little Bear running after them as fast as she could go. The sisters were very angry. They took Little Bear and tied her to the posts of the wigwam, so that she should not follow them again. Then once more they started upon their journey.
They had traveled but a short distance when again they heard a noise behind them. And there was Little Bear running toward them with the poles of the wigwam upon her back.
The sisters were astonished and very angry indeed. They undid Little Bear from the posts and tied her instead to a huge pine tree which grew close by. And they said: "Now will you stay where we leave you, bad Little Bear?"
Once more they went upon their way. But a third time they had not gone far when they heard a great noise behind them. Bumpety-bump! Bumpety-bump! Along came Little Bear with the pine tree upon her shoulders!
The sisters were now very, very angry. They untied Little Bear crossly, with many jerks, and fastened her to a great rock on the side of the hill. And they said: "Now we shall see whether you are anchored or not, you obstinate Little Bear!" So they went upon their way.
Presently they came to a wide river, and they had no boat in which to cross. They sat down upon the shore and moped, seeing no way to continue their journey.
But suddenly they heard a terrible noise behind them, and there once more was Little Bear, running toward them with the great rock on her back.
This time the sisters were glad enough to see her. They unfastened the rock and threw it into the middle of the river. Then they laid the pine tree upon the rock, and so they had a bridge upon which to cross. Merrily they passed over, all three. For this time Little Bear went with the other two. And they did not send her away, because she was so strong and useful. Presently, on the other side of the river, they came to a wigwam, where lived an old witch-woman with her two daughters.
"Where are you going?" asked the old woman.
"Our parents are very old," said the three girls, "and we are going to seek our fortune."
"Come in," said the old woman kindly. "Come in and have supper with us, and sleep to-night in the wigwam with my daughters."
The travelers were glad to go in, for it was growing late. They had a nice supper in the tent, and when it was night the daughters of the old woman and Little Bear's two sisters went to sleep in a huge bed. The sisters of Little Bear were on the outside, with the two others between them.
Little Bear did not go to bed. She sat up with the old woman beside the camp-fire, telling stories, until it was very late and the old woman fell sound asleep. She snored loudly; but to make sure, Little Bear reached out and pinched her gently.
When she found that it was not shamming, she crept softly to the bed where the four girls slept and changed their places. After this Little Bear's sisters were in the middle, and the old woman's daughters on the outside. When Little Bear had done this, she crept back to the fire and lay down, pretending to be asleep.
In a little while the old woman awoke and pinched Little Bear to see whether or not she was really asleep; and although it hurt dreadfully, Little Bear did not stir, or make a sound, but seemed to be dreaming fast. Then the wicked old woman sharpened her long, bright knife and stole to the bed where the girls were sleeping, and before they knew what was happening she had cut off the heads of the two girls on the outer sides of the bed. But it was her own two daughters whom the cruel creature had killed, though she did not know it, in the dark! The wicked old woman lay down to sleep, chuckling to herself. But when all was quiet, Little Bear awoke her two sisters and they all three crept away from that cruel wigwam, hurrying on their journey.
Now, in the morning when the old woman awoke and found what a dreadful thing she had done, she was annoyed. She screamed and cried and tore her hair, and then she jumped up into the sky and pulled down the sun from its place, hiding it away in her wigwam, so that Little Bear and her sisters might be lost in the dark.
In the pitchy blackness, worse than night, because there were no stars, the three stumbled on and on, groping their way; and it was very uncomfortable indeed. At any moment they might run into some terrible danger.
At last they saw the flicker of a little light, and made their way toward it. They found that it was a man carrying a torch and looking about for something.
"What are you looking for?" they asked.
"I am looking for the sun," answered the man. "The sun is lost, and we are in great trouble because of it. Tell me, have you seen the sun?"
They said "No," and asked him to lead them to his village, which he did. And when they came near they saw the twinkle of many lights. All the men of the town were looking for the sun, and there was great distress among them because their Chief was ill, and he could not get well until the sun should be put back into his place in the sky, and the days be bright again.
Little Bear asked to see the Chief, and they took her to where he lay dying.
"Great Chief," said she, "I think that I can help you."
"Can you bring back the sun, Maiden?" asked the Chief feebly. "That is the only thing that will help me."
"Yes, I can do so if you will give me two handsful of maple sugar and your oldest son," said Little Bear.
The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the maple sugar and went back to the wigwam of the wicked old woman. She climbed up on the outside and threw the sugar down through the chimney-hole into the kettle of rice which the old crone was cooking. Presently the hag tasted it and made a wry face.
"Bah!" she cried; "it is too sweet. I must go and get some more water to put in the kettle."
As soon as the old woman left the wigwam to get the water, Little Bear jumped down from the tent-roof, ran inside, and found the sun where the witch had hidden it away. Up she tossed it into the sky; and lo! the world was bright and beautiful once more.
Then she returned to the village, where the old Chief received her gratefully. As he had promised, he bestowed upon her his oldest son. But Little Bear did not want him. So she gave the young Chief to her eldest sister for a husband; and they were very happy.
Now, when the old woman saw the sun shining once more in his usual place, she was very angry. She screamed and she cried and she tore her hair. Once more she jumped up into the sky, and this time she tore down the moon, hiding it away in her wigwam, just as she had hidden the sun.
Then again the good old Chief fell sick, because now the nights were pitch dark; and he asked Little Bear if she could help him.
Little Bear said: "Yes, I will bring back the moon, if you will give me two handsful of salt and your next oldest son."
The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the salt and went again to the old woman's wigwam, doing as she had done before. She tossed the salt into the kettle of soup, and when the old woman tasted it she made a face and said: "Ugh! This soup is too salt. I must get some more water to put in the kettle."
As soon as the old woman was out of the way, Little Bear ran in and seized the moon, which was hidden in a corner. She tossed it up into the night sky, where it hung like a lovely lantern, and every one grew happy again.
Immediately the old Chief became well, and was glad enough to keep his promise and to give Little Bear his second son. But she did not want him for herself. She married the young man to her younger sister; and they were very happy.
This time the old woman was very angry indeed. She came by night to the village and stole the Chief's beautiful horse, all covered with little tinkly bells. At this misfortune the old Chief fell ill once more; for he was very sensitive.
Once more Little Bear offered to help him if he would give her two handsful of maple sugar and two handsful of salt, and his youngest, handsomest son. Of course, the old Chief agreed.
A third time Little Bear went to the old woman's wigwam and found her making soup. She did just as she had done twice before; only this time the sugar and the salt together made a horrid mess! When the old woman went out to get more water for a quite new soup, Little Bear slipped into the tent and found the horse. As a precaution she first took off his little bells, so that he should not make a noise to bring back the hag. She removed all the little bells but one, and that one she missed, it being hidden under a lock of his mane.
Gently she led the horse away. But alas! The one little bell which she had overlooked began to tinkle as they fled. Tink! Tink! Tink! Through the wood the old woman heard it and pricked up her ears. Hop, hop, hop! Along she came, hobbling after them faster than any horse could gallop, and she caught Little Bear before she could escape.
"Now I will be even with you for all that you have done!" cried the old woman.
She put Little Bear into a great bag and tied the bag to the limb of a tree. Then she went away to get a big stick with which to beat her victim to death.
But Little Bear did not wait for this to happen. While the old woman was looking for the stick, Little Bear bit a hole in the bag and crept out. She took the good horse, this time without any bells to give the alarm, and hid him in the bushes ready for flight. Then she put into the bag all the old woman's choicest things-her dishes and food, and the breakable furnishings of her wigwam-until the bag was round and bulgy as if Little Bear herself were inside.
Chuckling to herself, Little Bear hid in the bushes where she could see what happened upon the old woman's return; and merry enough the sight was! Little Bear nearly died of laughing, and had to stuff a corner of her blanket into her mouth lest she should betray herself.
For the old woman came hurrying up with her huge club, and began to beat the bag fiercely. Crack! Smash! went the pots and pans. Smash! Crack! went the dishes and the other things. But the wicked old woman went on beating harder than ever, thinking that she was breaking the bones of poor Little Bear.
Presently Little Bear grew tired of the smashing and crashing, and thought it was time to be off. She mounted the Chief's good horse and galloped swiftly away to the village, where her sisters were awaiting her anxiously, because she had been gone a long time.
When the Chief saw his good horse once more, he was greatly delighted and grew well immediately; he was so sensitive. As he had promised, he gave to Little Bear his youngest son, who was the handsomest of the three, though not wise. Little Bear loved him dearly; so she married him herself and they went to live in a fine wigwam which the Chief gave them, near the other two brothers and sisters.
But the Little Bear's husband did not love her. He was sulky and said: "I wish my wife were beautiful like the other maidens! Why must I marry an ugly Little Bear? I wish I might have had one of her pretty sisters instead!" And he was cruel to Little Bear and made her weep.
But after a while she dried her tears, and was angry to think how foolish she had been in choosing this youngest son for herself, just because he was so handsome. She thought about it for a long time.
One day she said to her husband: "You do not love me, because I am an ugly Little Bear. Take me and throw me into the fire."
"I do not love you," said her husband, "but I cannot kill you, for then the Chief would punish me."
"Do as I tell you!" said Little Bear, and she stamped her foot.
The young man was afraid, for he knew that Little Bear was very wise and powerful. So he did as she bade him, and threw Little Bear into the fire. This made a great noise in the wigwam, and presently up came running Little Bear's two sisters.
"Wicked man! What have you done to our dear Little Bear?" they cried.
"I have done only as she told me," said the young man sulkily. "Little Bear is not beautiful, but she is wise. So I did what she told me to do. I threw her into the fire."
"Oh, wicked man!" cried the sisters again, bursting into tears.
Just then they heard a strange sound in the fire, and turning, they beheld a most beautiful maiden with dark eyes and raven locks coming out of the flames. She smiled at the two sisters, and turning to the young man said: -
"Husband, do you know me? I am Little Bear, who was wise but not beautiful. Now I have become beautiful, but I am still wiser than before."
"O my wife!" cried the husband eagerly. "I do not care whether you are wise or not-that matters little to me. But I love you with all my heart, you are so beautiful!"
Little Bear laughed and said: "You were unkind to the ugly Little Bear, though she loved you. You are like most men; you care more for beauty than for wisdom. But I have grown wiser than I was when I married you and I do not care what you think."
And Little Bear, now the most beautiful young woman in the village and the pride of the tribe for wisdom, lived happy ever after.
XIX: THE RED KING'S VISIT
"That is a fine story!" cried Harold, clapping his hands after the Red King had finished telling the tale of the Little Bear. "I wish I could remember all the tales that I read, and tell them as well as you do, Your Majesty!"
Red Rex looked pleased. "It is a tale that, when I am not at war, I tell often to my little daughter," he said. "She likes all kinds of stories, but especially those of countries different from our own."
"Then she ought to hear the Tales of Kisington!" cried Harold.
"So I think," mused Red Rex. "I would that you could read them to her, even as you have read them to me, Harold."
"Perhaps some day that may be," answered Harold. "But meantime Your Majesty may hear our tales and tell them to your little Princess when you return. She will like your way of telling them better than reading from a book, I know."
"Yes, I must read those tales again, at your library," said the Red King. "I must study them well, so that I can tell them without losing the point of each, as I am prone to do. My little Hope will be glad. Heretofore, I have never had time enough to read her as much as she craved."
"The library will welcome you," said Harold. "I can answer for that. It would rather have you inside its doors reading than outside battering down the statues and the glass! Will Your Majesty come with me now and visit the Town of Kisington under the flag of truce?"
"That will I," answered Red Rex.
Forth then went Harold and the Red King to the gates of Kisington. Side by side they went, with the flag of truce between them, borne by a big man-at-arms. After them followed a guard of the Red King's men; but these remained behind when the great gate swung open to admit Harold and his royal guest.
There were no soldiers to be seen anywhere in the streets of Kisington. It seemed a town wholly at peace. The Lord Mayor and the Librarian were waiting to receive them, and crowds of people thronged the street to catch a glimpse of the War-Lord, who for nearly a week had been besieging their city without firing a shot since that first day. Harold recognized among the crowd the faces of many of his school-mates, and presently, when he found the opportunity he beckoned to his chums, Robert and Richard, who were in the front ranks.
"Keep close to me," Harold whispered to them. "By and by I dare say you will have a chance to speak with Red Rex himself."
Robert and Richard needed no second hint to keep close at Harold's heels. Proudly they stepped along, one on either side of their friend, behind the Red King and the Lord Mayor who followed the Librarian and the bearer of the flag of truce. To the marketplace they went, the other school children trotting along in the rear of the little procession, and gazing with almost as much pride and awe at their lucky comrades as at the dreaded enemy, Red Rex. Indeed, the whole Town of Kisington seemed moving in the wake of these six most important personages.
What conversation took place between Red Rex and the Lord Mayor was never recorded. But it seemed to grow gradually pleasanter and pleasanter. By the time they had reached the steps of the library, their faces were wreathed in smiles and they beamed at each other like old friends.
At the door of the library the Librarian turned and, with a wave of his hand, said to Red Rex, – "Welcome, Your Majesty, to the treasure-house of Kisington."
"Glad am I to enter these doors," replied the Red King courteously. "For here, I believe, live the wonderful books which during these past days have been giving me much pleasure." He laid his hand on the shoulder of Harold and smiled. One would hardly have recognized the face of the grim War-Lord who had begun the siege so savagely. "I would fain see those friendly books in their own home," he went on.
"That you shall do, Your Majesty," said the Librarian; "for Kisington is so proud of her treasures that she is ever glad to welcome a stranger to the enjoyment of them. Is it not fortunate, Your Majesty, that the library is still standing to entertain you? Recently it was in great danger of being destroyed, as you may have heard." (The Librarian was an exceedingly polite gentlemen.)
At these words the Red King turned redder and bowed gravely. "The Books themselves rose up for the protection of books," he said. "They have proved in this case to be the best weapons of defense. I am beginning to think that they are better than any soldiers."
By this time they had entered the main hall, where a delegation of Leading Citizens awaited them, – in holiday robes and with expectant faces. They greeted Red Rex with profound bows, which he acknowledged graciously.
The Librarian then turned to the rows of patient, peaceful books which lined the walls, ready to be made useful. "Yes, Your Majesty. These are our bulwarks and batteries and bayonets," he said simply.
The air of the room was still and quiet, full of peace and kindliness. Beautiful pictures looked down from the walls. Noble statues stood in the niches. Soft lights came in at the windows and fell on the tables and desks, and on rows upon rows of fair volumes, well-dusted and cheerful. The shattered windows had been screened; the broken marbles removed; so that there was nothing to reproach Red Rex or to speak of discord.
The War-Lord looked up and down and around and along, and spoke no word. All the books seemed listening, waiting for him to speak. They were indeed like soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, standing at "attention."
"It is a noble army!" exclaimed Red Rex at last, and his voice was low and gentle. "It is the best kind of army for the world, I see, as I have never seen before. I would it were mine!"
"It is yours, Your Majesty," said the Librarian. "You have but to make free use of it. These soldiers are free-lances, at the service not of one master, but of any one who employs them intelligently. Read them, Your Majesty, and so make them yours, if you will." The Librarian spread out his hands in a generous gesture.
"By my Hope, you are hospitable and magnanimous!" cried Red Rex. "I am tempted to take you at your word. Come, let there be no more war between us. Let us make no brief truce, but agree, instead, upon a true, lasting peace. Already I have promised this Harold of yours to spare the city, east, west, and north, – which is the whole of it. But come; promise me now to spare me the scorn and hatred which you owe for my unfriendliness. Let us spare each other and be friends. For I would know more of your books and of your people."
"Good, Your Majesty!" cried the Lord Mayor, stepping forward. "By all means let there be peace. We have no wish for anything else. Our hastily gathered soldiers are eager to return again to private life. Send away your army, and let peace be proclaimed with no more formality than our true words given each to other in this library, with the witness of the books."
"Done!" shouted Red Rex. "Here is my hand on it!" And he shook hands first with the Lord Mayor, then with the Librarian, then with the other Leading Citizens. Harold and his chums were standing modestly a little way apart. He called the boy to his side and laid an arm affectionately about his shoulder. "Here is your true peacemaker," said Red Rex. "If Harold had not been so good a reader, I should never have been here in peace with you at this moment. To Harold and his books I owe the vision of what a library really is."
"Your Majesty," said Harold promptly, "will you also shake hands with Richard and Robert? It will make them very proud."
"That will I!" cried Red Rex. And he not only shook hands, but clapped the boys on the shoulder, calling each by name; which was a thing for them to remember all their lives.
"Now!" announced the Red King, taking a large seal ring from his finger and handing it to his soldier who bore the flag of truce. "Take this ring, and go back to my army; bid the generals lead their men home, and busy themselves in some useful work until my return. For as for me, I shall remain for a space in this peaceful city, in this peaceful Kingdom, to learn something further of its ways and wonders, which interest me hugely."
The soldier saluted and retired. And shortly after was heard beyond the walls the tramp, tramp of a retreating army. The Red King was alone in Kisington, among the books.
Little cared he for what went on outside. He was carried away by the fascination of a world new to him. The Librarian led him from room to room, from stack to stack, from shelf to shelf of tempting books. The Red King was fairly bewildered by the opportunities offered. He wanted to read all the volumes at once.
"I never dreamed there were so many books in the world!" he cried. "How can a man live long enough to read them all, if he does nothing else all his days?"
"Do you wonder we have no time for war, Your Majesty?" asked the Librarian.
"No more war for me!" declared Red Rex. They had reached a division of the books labeled in huge letters OUTLAND TALES. The Red King laid his hand upon a volume bound in green-and-silver, like ice. "This has a tempting look," said Red Rex. "Are these also Chronicles of Kisington?"
"Yes, in a sense," answered the Librarian. "The deeds here recorded happened not in our Kingdom; yet, being tales gathered by our forbears in their travels around the world, to and from Kisington, they had a part in our history. They helped our fathers the better to understand and sympathize with the stranger, and so made for the peace which they loved."
"This is a story for me," declared Red Rex, who had been peeping into the ice-bound volume. "I would fain hear another tale interpreted by my little friend. Harold, will you read me this story, as you have read so many ere now? I long to hear your pleasant voice again."
"I will read whatever Your Majesty wishes," replied Harold. "Shall we go into this alcove where we shall be quite undisturbed and undisturbing?"
"By all means," said Red Rex. And here, in a cozy comer under one of the great windows, with Richard and Robert on either side of him, Harold read to the delighted King the Icelandic tale of The Bear's Daughter.