Weese-ke-jak

Anxious to keep the sun from wandering away very far, Weese-ke-jak constructed an enormous trap to catch the sun. This accomplished the desired end, for the very next time the sun came near the earth he was caught in the trap. In vain the sun struggled to get free, for the cords by which he was held were too strong for him. The near proximity of the sun to the earth caused such a heat that everything was in danger of being burned. Therefore Weese-ke-jak concluded to make some sort of a compromise with the sun, before he would consent to give him his liberty.

After a long interview between Weese-ke-jak and the spirit of the sun, whose name was Ane-ne-ke, it was stipulated that the sun was only to come near the outer edges of the earth in the mornings and evenings, and during the day to keep farther away, just near enough to warm the earth without scorching it. On the other hand, Keewa-tin, the spirit of the north wind, was ordered by Weese-ke-jak to keep at a respectful distance from the earth when the days were long, so as not to counteract the effects of the beneficial warmth of the sun; but during the short days of the year Kee-wa-tin was permitted to blow upon the earth and bring snow and ice in its train, so that the bears, frogs, and reptiles might enjoy their winter sleep without molestation.

On these conditions, mutually agreed upon, the sun was to get his liberty.

But now another difficulty presented itself. The sun had not the power to unloose the band by which he was held, and the heat emanating from it prevented either Weese-ke-jak or any of his creations from approaching the sun to cut the band and set him free. Weese-ke-jak issued a proclamation that any one that would set the sun free would receive particular favor from him. The beaver at that time was rather an insignificant creature, having only a few small teeth in his head, and being covered with bristly hair like a hog, his tail being only a small stump about two or three inches long. He was not much thought of by the rest of the animal world, nevertheless he had a great deal of courage, for he offered his services to release the sun. At first Weese-ke-jak looked upon the beaver with misgivings, but being assured by the beaver that he would perform the task, he was permitted to try. He succeeded in gnawing through the cords that held the sun before being quite roasted alive. The cords being severed, the sun rose from the earth like a vast balloon.

When the beaver presented himself to Weese-ke-jak on his return, he was a pitiful sight, his teeth were burned away so that only two or three blackened stumps remained, his hair was burned off, leaving only his blackened skin. Weese-ke-jak, in gratitude for his deliverance from the burning rays of the sun, rewarded the beaver in a handsome manner. He clothed him with a beautiful soft coat of fur, which was the envy of all the other animals, and to compensate him for the loss of his teeth he furnished him with a new set, long and sharp, admirably fitted to cut down trees for building purposes. In order, however, that it should be kept in remembrance whence he derived these favors, his teeth were made of a brown color, as if they had been scorched by the fire. This is how the beaver came by his hatchet-like teeth and furry coat.

Weese-ke-jak, having thus settled with the sun regarding the general temperature of the earth, now proceeded to make man, and in order that man might be strong he concluded to make him of stone. Having selected a rock that suited his purpose, he spent many days in hewing out the figure he wished to make, the stone being very hard and his tools none of the best. After working a long time, however, he managed to get the figure of a man that suited his taste. Weese-ke-jak was so proud of his workmanship that, after setting his man of stone upon his feet and before putting life into him, he walked back a considerable distance to see how his man would look from a remote point of view. When he had thus reached a goodly distance from the object of his admiration, he stood gazing for a long time in silent contemplation and satisfaction with the complete job he had accomplished. But while thus employed a malicious bear happened to peep out of his hole and espied the figure. Filled with envy he rushed up to the figure, and began to rub viciously against it. The consequence was that before Weese-ke-jak could interfere the bear had knocked his man over, and the figure, falling upon the hard rock, broke in many fragments.

Weese-ke-jak was terribly enraged at this deplorable accident by which his great work was destroyed. For a time he could neither eat nor sleep, being so much grieved at the disaster to the object of his many months of hard labor.

However, he determined to make another attempt to form a man, but concluded not to spend so much time over the work again. He set to work to make one of clay, and in a little time had one nicely made, having it in a secluded place to dry in the sun. This being done satisfactorily, he forthwith endowed the figure with life. But the Indians still lament the accident by which the man of stone was destroyed; as had Weese-ke-jak succeeded in putting life in the man of stone, human beings would have been far stronger than they are now.

In process of time Weese-ke-jak found that he had an unruly family to deal with. All the creatures of his creation began to commit depredations upon each other. Loud complaints were made against the fox because he attacked the birds and killed them, the fish complained against the otter for the same reason, while the bear set up a dismal groaning because the winter was so long that he could get no berries to eat. But the greatest complaints were made against man, because he ate everything that came his way: animals, fowl, fish, and berries were all devoured by this monster of creation. The clamor became so great that Weese-ke-jak determined to call a general council, to see whether he could not in some manner come to an agreement by which all these grievances would be remedied. Accordingly a general proclamation was made summoning all the spirits of the various living creatures before him at a certain date. When the time arrived there was a great mixed multitude assembled, which proved to be very unruly and unmanageable. The noise and confusion was something terrible, and Weese-ke-jak with all his skill could not control it. In vain he tried to get the crowd to keep still and listen to him; there was no end to the continual noise they were making. The noisiest one in the crowd was the frog, who in spite of all that could be done, kept up an incessant chattering and croaking. Weese-ke-jak finally lost his temper, and, becoming enraged at the rudeness of the frog, he seized a lot of glue-like substance and dashed it over the frog’s mouth, in the hope of stopping his croaking forever. But this was of no avail; the frog blew the sticky substance out of his mouth, but a part of it remained about the corner of his mouth, which accounts for the white streak around a frog’s mouth to the present day. Weese-ke-jak could do nothing to allay the tumult of this convention, and therefore dismissed the creatures assembled, vowing vengeance on them all.

The next exploit of Weese-ke-jak was to build an immense canoe, into which he took a pair of every kind of living creature, intending to drown all the rest. Accordingly when he had taken on board those that were to escape destruction, forthwith the whole earth sunk beneath the water, causing the death of all living creatures with the exception of those who were with Weese-ke-jak in the canoe.

Weese-ke-jak with his living freight went cruising about on the waste of waters for a long period, until at last he began to get tired of that kind of life, and determined to make a new earth. He thereupon commissioned the otter to go down into the waters and bring up some mud from the bottom, wherewith to make a new earth. But when the otter got back into his native element, he never returned. After waiting a considerable time, Weese-ke-jak sent the muskrat down for the mud. At that time the tail of the muskrat was very short and insignificant, being only a round knot. The muskrat went down as directed and gathered a goodly amount of mud, and straightway came to the surface again; but when Weese-ke-jak put forth his hand to take the mud, the muskrat made a swift turn and dived under the water. Weese-ke-jak tried to seize hold of the muskrat, but only succeeded in catching his stump of a tail, which stretched through his hand, and the muskrat succeeded in getting away. Since that time the muskrat has had a long, thin tail, which is neither useful nor ornamental. Weese-ke-jak, being thwarted twice, was highly indignant and threatened vengeance against the otter and muskrat.

The beaver was next asked to go and get some mud. Accordingly the beaver went down and brought up a quantity of mud which he tendered Weese-ke-jak, who was quite delighted with the good manners of the beaver. With the mud he straightway made a new earth, nor did he forget the beaver for his services; for instead of the stump of a tail he formerly had, he received a broad, flat tail like a trowel, with which he would be able to plaster his house. Thus the beaver, for his accommodating nature, received teeth sharp as an axe for cutting down trees wherewith to build his house, and a tail with which he could plaster it.

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