Mishi Shigak, Big Skunk

Big Skunk eats a toad, uses his potent flatus to destroy obstacles as he pursues starving animals who flee to Beaver’s camp. Beaver’s flatulence mars his generosity, so the animals depart. Big Skunk is finally captured and slain by Wolverine and the beasts, his gas salting the sea. Wolverine returns home but is deceived and murdered by his wolf brothers-in-law, who also kill his family.

Source:
Notes on the Eastern Cree
and Northern Saulteaux
by Alanson Skinner
The American Museum
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale explains why the sea is salty, attributing it to Big Skunk’s flatus.

Revenge and Justice: The animals band together to capture and punish Big Skunk for his relentless pursuit.

Cunning and Deception: The wolves deceitfully murder Wolverine after feigning familial goodwill.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

Albany version

Big Skunk went hunting one day but he found no game to kill except a toad. He told his wife to cook the toad, and after he had eaten it he went to bed and had a sleep.

He dreamed that someone had seen his tracks so next morning, when he got up, he told his wife to go and get what was left of the toad, and when he had finished it, he went back over his trail of the day before. Sure enough, he saw that someone had come out from under the snow and had seen his trail and followed it. It was Weasel.

There were a lot of animals of all kinds camping near by and they were starving. They were very much afraid of Big Skunk, so when they learned that Weasel had seen his trail they all fled away from him.

► Continue reading…

As the animals were fleeing, they came to Beaver’s camp. They all went in and begged for food. Beaver always has plenty of food in his camp and he wished to feed the poor animals. He had big bundles of all kinds of meat so he started to pull one out. It was so heavy that the strain made him break wind. This made Otter snicker. The other animals were very much frightened at this because they feared Beaver would be offended and not give them anything to eat. Beaver tried to lift the bundle a second time and again he broke wind. This time Otter simply could not help bursting out laughing, and it made Beaver so angry that, just as they feared, he refused to give them anything to eat. It was just as well, however, for had the animals taken any of Beaver’s meat, they would ever afterwards have been obliged to live on bark and grass as Beaver does. All the animals left Beaver’s camp.

As soon as Big Skunk found Weasel’s track he began to pursue him. He knew he was with the other animals. As he went along he thought he would see if his rump was powerful enough to kill game. He backed around and aiming at a stump, blew it all to pieces with his discharge. Then he took up the trail again. After a while, he came to a steep mountain, and backing up to it he blew it all to pieces. “Now, that is all right,” he said, “I can kill them all now.”

He went off until he came to a camping ground and found the animals had all fled. One old otter (not the one who laughed at Beaver) was all tired out and too feeble to flee from him. When this otter saw Big Skunk coming it pretended to be dead. When Big Skunk came up he began to examine it all over to see how it had been killed, but he could not find any marks on its body. At last, he thrust his finger up Otter’s aboral aperture. “Well, that is the place the bullet went in,” said Big Skunk. “When I come back I will pick him up,” he said and covered Otter with brush.

The animals continued to flee before Big Skunk. They tried to pick out a hilly road to tire him out. At last they came on Wolverene who was chiseling beaver. The animals were starving, they had been fleeing from Big Skunk for several days and had had no food. Wolverene sent the animals to his camp to get food. “If Big Skunk comes, I’ll shout,” said he to them.

Shortly after, Big Skunk did come up. “I’m entirely played out now,” said Big Skunk to Wolverene. “I have followed those animals over a good many mountains and hills. “Well,” said Wolverene, “you shouldn’t run about so much. You should stay in one place.” “Do you wish to make me angry?” said Big Skunk. Then he turned about and discharged his flatus at Wolverene. Then Wolverene bit Big Skunk’s anus and closed it with his mouth. He held on so that Skunk could not fire. He shouted to all the animals for help and they all ran out. Then Otter took his tail and stabbed Big Skunk with it as though it had been a spear, right through the body.

Lynx got a bad cramp when he was running to the spot so that he could not move, but one of the animals returned and cured Lynx so he recovered and coming up grabbed Big Skunk by the neck and finished him.

Then Wolverene could not open his eyes, for Big Skunk had discharged full in his face. “Make a hole in the ice,” said Wolverene to the beasts, “so I can wash my eyes.” “Don’t wash yourself at the lake,” said they, “go out to the sea and wash there. It will be salty if you do.” So Wolverene started off for the sea. When Wolverene struck against a tree, he could not see anything, he would say, “Who are you?” “I am Black Spruce,” “I am Tamarack,” or “I am White Spruce,” whatever they were, those trees told him truly. At last, he ran into a stump, “Who are you?” he said. “I am a stump, lying on the shore.” Then he struck something else. “Who are you?” “I am the ice.” Soon he fell in the water and washed himself clean. That is why the water of the sea (James and Hudson’s Bay) is salt. It is Big Skunk’s flatus that made it so. Then, when Wolverene could see, he came ashore. As he started for home, he sang a song which he made to himself.

“Niki ki poti yepaw mishi Shigak.”
“I closed Big Skunk’s anus for him.”

As Wolverene was returning, three wolves heard him singing. They were his brothers-in-law, for he had married a wolf. They planned to hide and scare him. “Hello brother,” they cried, “what are you singing about?” Wolverene was afraid and climbed into a tree. “Are you single?” asked the wolves. “Yes,” lied Wolverene. After a while he consented to come down.

It was winter. When it was night they sent Wolverene ahead to find a suitable place to camp. Wolverene wanted to camp in the thick forest. The wolves at once claimed that he had deceived them since only a married man would wish to camp in the thick forest. Then they camped in the open in a hole in the snow. Wolverene nearly froze. He was so cold that he wept. He begged the wolves to cover him with their tails. They covered him with their tails from opposite directions and at last he went to sleep. Before they went to bed they made a, fire. Wolverene lighted it with a flint and steel. Then the wolves jeered, “No single man ever carried a flint and steel. This is the way we make fire,” said the wolves. They piled up the wood and leaped over it, and it blazed up.

Next morning, they found a deer track and followed it. They noticed something in the snow, and at last they found a deer-killing implement. They came to a lake and killed the deer there. Then they divided it into four equal parts of flesh, and marrow bones. They ate the deer flesh, and in the evening they began to split the bones for the marrow. When the wolves were to split their bones, they told Wolverene to close his eyes or a splinter would fly in them and blind him. Wolverene did as he was bidden and the wolves took up a bone and struck him over the head with it. Wolverene cried out, and the wolves replied that he must have been looking.

Wolverene then told the wolves to close their eyes while he split his marrow bones. He took up a bone and struck one of the wolves over the head and killed him. This made the other two very angry. Wolverene tried to explain that his victim must have been looking but the wolves told him he must leave them. He went off the next morning. The wolves gave him the power of lighting the fire by jumping over it, but told him to use it only after having hunted.

The next day Wolverene tried his power at mid-day, although he had not hunted. He only got smoke. Finally, he succeeded in getting fire. At night, he again succeeded in making fire so he threw away his flint and steel. The next day he tried to light his fire this way but could not succeed. Then he tried to find his flint and steel but he could not. He nearly froze. He walked four days before he met his family.

His brothers-in-law (the two wolves) and his mother-in-law were there before him. Their tents were close together. Wolverene began to hunt. He killed a lot of beaver but the wolves couldn’t kill anything. One day, the wolves tracked a moose. They asked Wolverene to help them but he said he did not want to eat moose, he wanted to eat beaver. The wolves drove the moose on to the lake where Wolverene was chiseling beaver and it passed him as it fled. When the wolves came up, they asked Wolverene for their quarry. Wolverene replied, “If his tail had been long enough, you would have seen it.” So the wolves hurried up and caught and killed the moose.

Wolverene wanted some moose meat. He had been so stingy with his beavers that he was afraid the wolves would not give him any. He could see the moose fat hung on a pole in front of the wolves’ lodge. The wolves knew that he would beg for some, so they had frozen the inner stomach of the moose into a club to kill him when he should ask for it. Wolverene went home and loaded his sled with beaver meat. He intended to make his mother-in-law a present and then ask for some moose meat. He put large beaver tails on the front of his sled so that his mother-in-law would find them at once. When he arrived at her lodge she asked him why he was bringing them meat when they had plenty and had not done so before, when they were starving. However, she gave him some fat, and told him to close his eves while he ate it. The wolves hit him with the “bowl” of the frozen inner stomach. [This seems to refer to the fact that the inner stomach of the moose and caribou is sometimes used as a cooking utensil by the Eastern Cree.] Wolverene cried out in pain, but they hit him again and killed him. Then they took the frozen fat from his mouth, for they said it was getting dirty and was too good to waste. The wolves then killed his two little ones and speared his wife to death.

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Tcigibis, the Hell Diver

While canoeing, Tcigibis finds Otter feigning death by stuffing maggot-ridden punk into his nose and rectum, only for Otter to leap up and devour all but one Crawfish, explaining their lineage. Later, jealous of his wife’s brother Loon, Tcigibis kills him with a heated iron, hides the blood, and feigns suicide. After escaping a mob in the water, he survives and secures hell divers’ future.

Source:
Notes on the Eastern Cree
and Northern Saulteaux
by Alanson Skinner
The American Museum
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale explains how Crawfish came to be, tracing their lineage to the sole survivor of Otter’s trickery.

Family Dynamics: Tcigibis’ jealousy of his brother Loon over his wife drives him to murder.

Revenge and Justice: Both Crawfish and Tcigibis enact reprisals—Otter against Crawfish, and Tcigibis against Loon—for past wrongs.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

Albany Cree

Tcigibis was out canoeing and as he went along he saw Otter lying on the bank. Otter knew that Tcigibis had seen him so he took some punk and put some up his nostrils and up his rectum and lay down again, feigning death. When Tcigibis returned he saw Otter lying there and went ashore to look at him. When he saw the rotted wood on Otter’s nose and anus, he said, “Well, it seems this otter is full of maggots.” Tcigibis turned back from there and hunted up Crawfish and told him he had just found Otter lying dead. Not long before this, Otter had tried to kill and eat Crawfish, but he had only succeeded in pulling all his legs and his claw off on one side.

When Crawfish heard that his enemy was dead, he was very glad. He called all the other crawfish together and said, “Let us go over and see the dead otter.”

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They all went over and a whole lot of them went ashore to look at him. As soon as they saw the punk in Otter’s rectum, they commenced to pull it out. Otter was so amused at this that he could not help laughing. One of the crawfish then said, “I believe that that Otter is moving.” Crawfish, who had been pulling the punk out of Otter’s rectum replied, “Oh, I guess that was I, I must have moved Otter.” Then Otter jumped up and caught all the crawfish but one whose legs had all been pulled off on one side by Otter on a former occasion. He was afraid to go too near and that is how he was saved. From him, all the crawfish we have today are descended.

After this, Tcigibis went canoeing again. As he was traveling, he shot and killed a caribou. Tcigibis had a wife and he was jealous of Loon who was his brother on her account. “For,” he said, “I believe Loon is after my wife.” When he had killed the caribou, he went and found Loon sleeping. Then Tcigibis took an iron and heated it in the fire until it was red hot, and then he shoved it down Loon’s throat and killed him. When he had killed Loon, he went back and took some of the blood of the caribou and put it in his grease bag. Then he hid the grease bladder in his bosom. When Tcigibis had done these things he went home.

When Tcigibis reached home he went ashore and everyone came down to see what game he had. The people all knew (supernaturally) that he had killed his brother. They called out to him, “Your brother is dead now.” He pulled out his knife and stabbed himself in the bosom, piercing the bladder of blood which ran out all over his body. Then he fell over in the water and escaped by making a long dive.

At first, all the people really thought that Tcigibis had committed suicide but when they saw him reappear in the water, a long distance away, they were undeceived, and gave chase. Tcigibis escaped, however, and it is just as well, for had the people caught and killed him, there would have been no more hell divers to this day.

Wisagatcak

Story recounts Wisagatcak’s cunning flood survival: after breaking a beaver dam and drifting on a makeshift raft with animals, he magically conjures new land, assigns animals their diets and anatomical traits, and demonstrates trickster wit in episodes involving wildfowl and a bear. His mischief explains natural features—from subterranean springs to tree growth patterns—before he vanishes, leaving a world shaped by his clever deeds.

Source:
Notes on the Eastern Cree
and Northern Saulteaux
by Alanson Skinner
The American Museum
of Natural History
Anthropological Papers
Volume IX, Part 1
New York, 1911

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The story explains how the earth, creeks, and animal diets originated through Wisagatcak’s actions.

Trickster: Wisagatcak repeatedly uses cunning schemes—trapping beavers, ensnaring birds, and outwitting others—to achieve his goals.

Cultural Heroes: Wisagatcak is portrayed as the ancestral figure whose deeds shape the world and its creatures.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

Albany Cree

One winter day, Wisagatcak was chiseling for mythical “big” beaver. He caught the beaver by shutting up the creek with stakes, leaving an opening in the center of the stream. He stood there waiting all day for the beaver to try to swim through the opening and escape. Towards evening, he saw one coming along, but just as he was about to kill it. Muskrat stole up behind and scratched his anus. This startled Wisagatcak so that he failed to slay his quarry. At last, it grew so dark that he could no longer see the game, so he went ashore and built a fire without eating anything. He thought to himself, “Tomorrow, I will try to break the beaver dam and dry up the creek.”

Early the next morning, Wisagatcak arose and made a pointed stick, or spear, from juniper. With this he broke the dam, and when it was broken, the water began to rise, so that at last Wisagatcak could no longer stand on the ground.

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When this happened, he made a raft of logs and got on that. He took aboard a pair of every kind of animal and stayed there with them for two weeks. They drifted about, for there was no chance to anchor anywhere. While all this happened the Big Beaver were conjuring against Wisagatcak to revenge themselves for breaking their dam. After two weeks had passed, Wisagatcak wished to know the depth of the water underneath the raft so he took Muskrat and tied a long string to his feet and told him to dive under the water and bring up some mud.

The rat went down; he was unable to reach the bottom and was drowned before Wisagatcak could pull him up. Wisagatcak waited for three days and then sent the crow to see if he could find any dry land. He told Crow if he found any he was to bring back some moss; but Crow came back empty-billed.

When Wisagatcak learned this, he was frightened. He had a little moss on his raft and he took it and began to conjure. The next day, he told Wolf to take the moss in his mouth and run around the raft with it. Wolf did as he was told and as soon as he ran around the raft, earth began to appear and grow on it. Wolf continued to run around for a week while the land kept on growing larger. It continued to grow for two weeks. At the end of this time. Wolf had made it so big that he never came back. Since the earth is built over water, this accounts for the existence of subterranean springs.

When Wolf had been gone a week and had not yet returned, Wisagatcak said to the other animals, “Well, the ground must now be big enough for us to live on.” Beaver asked Wisagatcak. “How are we going to live? We are now eating willows and poplars and there are as yet no trees on the earth for us to live on.” Wisagatcak replied, “Just wait, you will need a little creek to live in also.” “Yes,” said Beaver. “I’ll do something tonight,” said Wisagatcak.

That night Wisagatcak conjured again. He dug down through the earth over the raft to get a log from it; but the earth was now so great he could not find any trace of his raft. When Wisagatcak failed to get even a stick he said to Beaver, “Well, I’ll make a creek for you, and you may live on the roots of the grass until trees grow up.” That is why Beaver eats certain white roots to this day although his proper diet is bark.

When Wisagatcak had built the creek for Beaver, he dwelt in it. After a while, Wisagatcak came back and found that Beaver had dug trenches everywhere in his search for roots. He saw one beaver swimming about. “Come here brother,” he said, for he was the older brother of all the animals. The beaver refused to go. “Why do you call me,” said Beaver, “when you only wish to kill me?” Then Wisagatcak was angry and said, “I’ll never come again.” He never did.

One time, when Wisagatcak was out hunting, he saw a great number of wild fowl and said to himself, “What can I do to get them?” He was carrying a big bag and he thought he would pull up some moss and fill his bag with that. He did so, and when he had stuffed it full he went away, carrying it on his back. When the wild fowl saw Wisagatcak’s bundle, they approached and asked, “What is that you are carrying on your back?” Wisagatcak stopped and replied, “This is my ‘singing wigwam’ (sic) where I used to sing and dance.” Then he took out the moss and made a lodge of it. When the wild fowl saw the wigwam, they came over and went in. Wisagatcak said to the birds, “When I sing, take care to do everything that I say to do.” Then all the wild fowl began to dance.

After Wisagatcak had sung for some time, he cried out in the song for all the birds to shut their eyes, and dance in a circle, with their heads and necks inward and close together. When the birds did this, Wisagatcak took a cord and made a running noose of it which he threw over the necks of all the birds at once and so succeeded in strangling a great many of them. When Loon heard the dying beat of the wild fowls’ wings he began to open his eyes and peep. As soon as he saw that the birds were being killed, he cried out, “Wisagatcak is killing us,” and ran to the door. Wisagatcak pursued Loon, and just as he was escaping through the door, Wisagatcak managed to kick him squarely in the rump. This accounts for the peculiar shape of the loon’s rump bone today.

Then thought Wisagatcak to himself, “I wonder how I can cook all these birds.” He dug down under the sand by the fireplace for he intended to roast the fowls by burying them in the hot sand. In order to remember where he had put them, he left one leg of each bird sticking up above the surface. When he had done this, Wisagatcak wished to have a good sleep but before going to bed he said to his rump, “Well, you had better watch while I sleep.”

At last, someone passing by saw the tent. He waited until he was sure Wisagatcak was asleep and then he came and peeped in at the door. The faithful rump gave warning by breaking wind, Wisagatcak roused at once, jumped up, and looked about. The marauder, however, had disappeared and Wisagatcak saw no one and returned to bed. “Don’t you fool me like that again,” he said to his rump.

As soon as the intruder heard Wisagatcak snore again, he came and peeped in the tent once more. Again, Wisagatcak’s rump gave tongue. Wisagatcak leaped up and looked out, but again the culprit escaped him. As Wisagatcak could see no one, he spoke very sharply to his rump for deceiving him. Then he went back to his bed. As soon as he was asleep the man came and looked in again but this time Wisagatcak’s rump was angry because it had been reproved twice, and failed to give warning. Then the man entered Wisagatcak’s wigwam and stole all the geese and other wild fowl. The thief pulled off one foot from each and to deceive Wisagatcak stuck them up in the sand around the fire where the birds had been. At length, Wisagatcak awoke and being very hungry, he commenced to pull up his geese, but all that he could find were the feet, so he knew he had been robbed while he slept.

Wisagatcak was very angry with his rump for not warning him of the thief’s approach. So he put a stone in the fire and heated it red hot. When it was hot enough he took off his leggings and breechclout and sat upon the stone to burn his rump to punish it for its treachery. As he sat on the hot stones he began to break wind and continued to do so. “Look here now,” said Wisagatcak to his anus, “you suffer because you did not warn me.” When he had finished burning it, it was withered and shaped like everyone’s else and there was a deep crease burned in the middle. That is why mankind has the rump shaped in this way. Formerly, a man’s rump was puckered like that of a frog.

When Wisagatcak had done this, he went hurrying off and left his wigwam standing. He took his bow and arrows to hunt game, for he was very hungry since he had lost his dinner. At every step he took he broke wind, “Poop! poop! poop!” and so his rump revenged itself by warning all the game and spoiling his hunting.

At length, Wisagatcak began to starve because he could not approach the game. “Don’t make any more noise,” said he to his rump, “and I’ll give you something to eat.” There was a big scab on his rump where he had burned it, and at last it dropped off. As Wisagatcak was starving, he picked up the scab and began to eat it. He thought it was dried meat. [Some narrators claim he knew it was his scab, but others hold the contrary to be true.] The squirrel saw Wisagatcak eating the scab and he could not help laughing. “That is your own scab you are eating,” said he to Wisagatcak. Then Wisagatcak threw his scab at the birch tree and the punk of rotten birches is of that scab. Then Wisagatcak pounded the tree with a stick as well and thus he marked the bark in the way one sees it today.

After Wisagatcak had done this, he went away from there. He saw a bear eating berries. He approached the bear to shoot it but his rump broke wind and warned the bear that Wisagatcak was coming. When the bear heard and saw Wisagatcak coming he would run off, but Wisagatcak called out, “Hold on, my brother.” The bear answered, “I did not know you were a brother of mine.” Wisagatcak replied, “Don’t you know? Long ago, we were brothers; we will eat berries together. Do you see that thing sticking up out of the water there?” “No,” said the bear. “Don’t you see that thing sticking out of the water?” said Wisagatcak. “No, I see nothing,” said the bear. “Do you know what I have done?” said Wisagatcak, “Formerly, I used to see as poorly as you do, but I mashed berries and put them in my eyes.”

Then the bear thought he would like to see as well as Wisagatcak so he began to mash berries and put them in his eyes. “After I had done that,” said Wisagatcak, “I went to bed and had a short nap. I had a stone for my pillow too.” The bear did likewise. When the bear fell asleep Wisagatcak took up a big stone and mashed the bear’s head with it and killed him. [One version of this tale makes Wisagatcak turn into a bear and live with his intended victim until he got fat in the fall.] Then Wisagatcak skinned the bear. He cut it in pieces and cooked them all. He preserved the grease and intestines. He did not attempt to eat until he had cooked all of it. While he was cooking he looked up and saw Muskrat swimming in the river. As the grease would not harden, he called to the rat to take it and swim through the water with it. When Muskrat returned with the grease, Wisagatcak stripped all the flesh from his tail to reward him for his services. That is why it is so thin and skinny now, whereas formerly it was fat and broad like a beaver’s and too heavy for him. “Try now and see how fast you can go,” said Wisagatcak to Muskrat. Muskrat tried and went so fast that he broke the grease bladder and the grease and oil came out. This accounts for the smooth slick wake the muskrat leaves when swimming. It is the bear’s oil and grease calming the water.

“Now, I will eat my bear,” said Wisagatcak. He began to eat, but he was soon so full that he could hold no more. Then he went over to where two trees were standing close together. He stood between them and said, “Squeeze me until my stomach is stretched so far that I can finish my bear at one meal.” At once, the trees came together and began to squeeze Wisagatcak. When they held Wisagatcak so closely that he could not get away, they called out to all the animals to come and eat his bear.

All the animals came at once and though Wisagatcak begged the trees to let him go, they held him fast until his bear was eaten. When it was all gone, they released him. Of all the animals, Seal got the most grease, and Rabbit the least. That is why Seal is so fat and Rabbit so lean. When the trees finally released Wisagatcak, he was very angry. He started to revenge himself on them by twisting them with his hands. That is the reason some trees are spirally twisted in their growth.

Wisagatcak went away. It was late in the fall and all the birds were flying south. He told them he would like to go with them. “I can fly as well as you,” said he. He started off. The birds said to him, “If you see any people when you are flying, don’t look at them, for if you do so, you will fall down.” They all flew away and soon Wisagatcak saw some people. He looked hard at them and down he fell and was smashed to pieces. Then he resumed his human shape, for he had been a bird when he was flying.

Then the Indians he had looked at came up. He was unable to get up for some time, and whenever they felt like evacuating, they would go over and do it upon Wisagatcak. At last, an old woman came. Wisagatcak saw her approach, jumped up, and seized a stick which he shoved up her anus. He killed the old woman and ran his stick in the ground, leaving her upon it as meat is placed on a spit to roast before the fire. Then he went home.

Once Wisagatcak was traveling. As he went along he met three sisters who had never seen a man before. “Ah,” thought Wisagatcak, “I will show them something.” He had been hunting beaver and had a freshly severed beaver’s head in his hand. “Let us play a new game,” said Wisagatcak to the best looking sister. “You take hold of one jaw and I will take the other and we will sit down, place our feet together, and pull apart.” They did as Wisagatcak suggested and bracing their feet against each other, began to pull. When the woman was exerting her utmost strength, Wisagatcak let go.

Prostratam mulierem, vestibus sublatis genitalibas conspectis, stupravit. Ilia exclamavit, “Wisagatcak me interficiti” Tunc sorores eum detrahere, “minime mihi malum facit.” Cum Wisagatcak earn stuprasset, mulier iterum cum eo coire voluit, sed sorores quare tantam ex novo ludo cepit delectationem nesciebant et ludum euodem disure concupiverunt. [He stripped the woman of her clothes and raped her. She exclaimed, “Wisagatcak, I have been killed.” Then the sisters pulled him away, “He is not doing me any harm.” When Wisagatcak had raped her, the woman wanted to have sex with him again, but the sisters did not know why she took such pleasure in this new game, and they desperately wanted to play the same game.] So she could not keep him to herself. Very soon Wisagatcak was very nearly dead, but they insisted upon his continuing the play. Finally, he escaped, but he was almost dead.

At last, Wisagatcak went to the north. On the other side of Winisk-sibi (Ground Hog or Woodchuck River) he met the north wind who was traveling in the same direction. To escape from the north wind he built a shelter of rocks which may still be seen there to this day. It is just the size of a man. After this happened, nobody knows what became of Wisagatcak.

Weese-ke-jak

Weese-ke-jak transformed a water-covered void into a living world, bargaining with migratory geese for earth, shaping land and animals, and negotiating sun and wind to regulate seasons. A courageous beaver sacrifices itself to free the sun and is rewarded, while a flood wipes out life, followed by a new creation using mud from a devoted beaver as the planet’s foundation.

Source:
Myths of the Bungees or
Swampy Indians of Lake Winnipeg
by S.C. Simms
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.19, No.75, pp. 334-340
October-December, 1906

► Themes of the story

Creation: The narrative opens with the making of the world from a water-covered void into land, vegetation, and living creatures.

Origin of Things: It explains natural phenomena (the sun’s path, seasons) and cultural traits (beaver’s fur and teeth, muskrat’s tail).

Loss and Renewal: Life is destroyed by a great flood and then reborn when a new earth is fashioned from mud.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

Before the creation, the world was a wide waste of water, without any inhabitants, except a few geese, which from some unknown parts paid occasional visits.

Weese-ke-jak found upon questioning them that they came from a country far away in the distant south, where there was plenty of land. Weese-ke-jak lost no time in making a bargain with the geese, that they would bring him a sample of earth on their next visit, which they did.

With the earth thus brought to him, Weese-ke-jak made the world, which he adorned with grass, trees, and herbs. This was followed by the creation of all the animals, reptiles, fowls, and fish. At that time there was a great scarcity of light upon the earth, the sun being only an occasional visitor to this world.

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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.

The Sacred Serpent Challenge

Jealous over the deadly natawa, the rattlesnake challenges his brother by biting two young hunters, killing one. Grief-stricken, the bereaved chief is visited at his son’s grave by a horned serpent spirit who teaches him sacred rites and the construction of the long tent of life. Through divine instruction and ritual, the chief restores his tribe’s spiritual balance, ultimately receiving a newborn son in place of the lost youth.

Source:
Myths of the Bungees
or Swampy Indians of Lake Winnipeg
by S.C. Simms
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.19, No.75, pp. 334-340
October-December, 1906

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The story explains how the rattlesnake came to bear a warning rattle on its tail.

Divine Intervention: Spirits of earth, wind, and waters, and the great snake, guide and teach the chief.

Ritual and Initiation: The old chief is instructed in the mysterious rites of the long tent of life.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

The chief divinities of the Indians are two: Gitchi Manitou, the good spirit, and Matche Manitou, the evil spirit. It was Gitchi Manitou who revealed the mysterious secrets of the Metawin to man shortly after his creation, about the time that the first pair had grand-children born to them, and before death entered into the world.

At that time there lived two powerful snakes, the rattlesnake and the natawa, which had existed from the beginning of the world. They lived together in harmony for many years, but at length the rattlesnake grew jealous of the powerful and deadly natawa, which jealousy so increased that the rattlesnake finally challenged the natawa to see, by inflicting a bite on mankind, which of them possessed the most deadly poison. The natawa demurred at first to this proposal, being unwilling to disturb the peace and harmony that existed in the world, but from day to day the rattlesnake so taunted the natawa with cowardice, that at last the latter consented to accept the challenge.

At that period there lived two powerful chiefs near to each other, who were on terms of great intimacy. They had each a grown-up son, and the two young men often hunted in the forest together. During one of their excursions, the rattlesnake and the natawa waylaid them for the purpose of inflicting wounds on them to see which of their poisons was the most deadly. The young men, unconscious of danger, passed the thicket where the two snakes were in ambush, when suddenly the reptiles sprang upon them and bit them.

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The young man who was bitten by the natawa instantly dropped dead from the effect of the poison, but the other one was able to reach his father’s tent. Here a noted medicine-man applied a powerful antidote to the wound and the youth recovered in a few days.

After the deed was done the natawa, who was grieved and enraged at the rattlesnake by whose guile and temptation he had been instrumental in bringing death and sorrow to mankind, said: “Brother, you have been the cause of bringing death and misery to mankind by your envious and evil designs, therefore you shall never after this have the power to approach man without a warning. From this time you shall ever have a rattle in your tail to warn every one who approaches you of your presence, and the people of the earth shall pursue you to death.”

The old chief, whose son had died of the poisonous bite, brought the body home, and with his tribe performed the burial ceremony; and every day afterwards repaired to the grave of his beloved son and bitterly mourned his loss.

The friends of the old man endeavored to console him in his grief, but without effect; he would not even speak to them. One day, while visiting the grave, he saw an enormous snake, striped with various colors like a rainbow, arising out of the earth, who thus addressed him: “Old man of the plain, I command you to appear at this spot on the third day following this, and you must implicitly follow my directions and obey my commands. There shall appear to you a snake on this very same spot; he will be sent by the gods. You will elevate the serpent three times by the horns, and at each time you elevate him, you will repeat these words of adoration, ‘ Ne kan, ne kan, kan na ka, ka na, oh! oh! oh!’ Immediately after you have performed this, there shall appear a Manitou of your race, who will teach you the ceremony of the Metawin or tent of life, and reveal to you the mysterious rites which come from the happy hunting-ground, and from the centre of the earth, and from the depths of the waters. The spirits take pity on your sorrow and will help you if you obey them. Adieu, my son; you will point to the centre of the heavens, the centre of the earth, and to the four abodes of the spirits with your pipestem, whilst I glide down the perpendicular rock of our abode.” At that instant the snake disappeared downwards with a tremendous hissing sound, caused by the rapidity of his descent.

According to the instructions of the great snake, the old man repaired to the grave of his son on the third day, and after presenting his pipestem to the centre of the sky, the earth, and the four winds, made the offering of the dead, then sat down facing the body of his son, who was placed on the grave in a sitting posture with his face toward the east. While sitting there, the old chief heard a rumbling noise and an enormous serpent appeared before him having two horns, and two rows of large teeth within his jaws. The serpent twisted itself into a coil around the grave. The old chief arose from his seat and took the serpent by the horns and elevated it three times, and at each time repeating these words: “Ne kan, kan na ka, ka na.” At the third time the serpent changed its shape into that of a venerable old man having long white hair and holding a rod in his hand, together with the bag of life, made of the skin of the deadly natawa and containing the magic bead, who thus addressed the old chief: “I have come to comfort and console you for the death of your son. The spirits of the earth, wind, and waters have seen your sorrow, and I am sent to your race to show you the way of life, which you will teach to your children, and which shall continue to the end of time. Now, therefore, light your pipe, and with its stem point to the sky, the abode of the Great Spirit, who shall give you life; then point to the abode of the spirits of the centre of the earth, who will teach you the virtues of all herbs, then to the four winds, which will protect you and give you power and success.”

After the old chief had completed these ceremonies with his pipestem, he offered his visitor the pipe, but the old man raised his rod and touched the mouthpiece, when immediately was heard the tapping of a drum. After the mysterious sound had been repeated three times the old man said: “Ne kanis, ne kanis, kan nah, nah kan nah.” He then chanted the following:

I come from the East
Where the long tent does rest.
The Great Spirit does say –
Perform these rites always.

After chanting this song for some time the old man sat down near the old chief and taught him the ceremonies and rites of the long tent of life, which occupied some days. It is said by the Indians that the moon changed once during the time that the old chief was being told all the secrets of the tent of life.

After the old chief had been fully instructed, his preceptor said: “I will bless you with long life and you shall have more sons, but forget not my instructions. I leave you this bag of natawa skin with the magic bead and this rod. Beware, pollute not my tent of life. Adieu, my son, I go home, but I shall hear you when you chant the mysteries I have taught you.” Saying this, the white-haired spirit visitor vanished from the gaze of the old chief, who saw him no more.

After some months, when the mourning for his son was over, and after celebrating a feast with his tribe, the old chief commanded that all the males should purify themselves and assist in building the long tent of life. During the evenings he employed himself in teaching the males of his tribe to sing the mysteries imparted to him by his spiritual teacher; and after having succeeded in giving them sufficient knowledge in all the rites and ceremonies pertaining to the tent of life, he appointed the various officers of the tent, but reserved to himself the position of “Grand Master.” During this work, which took several years to accomplish, the old chief was gladdened by having a son born to him, the very image of the one who had died from the sting of the natawa.

The History of the Che-che-puy-ew-tis

After his mother’s death at the hands of a devil, an unborn child is saved by a helpful mouse and later reunited with his brother. Together they avenge their parents and survive harrowing adventures, including underwater explorations and repeated attacks by lynxes. Seeking a wife, the younger brother tests various animal partners before settling with a beaver, only to be transformed into one himself—becoming the ancestral spirit and protector of his new tribe.

Source:
The History of the Che-che-puy-ew-tis
A legend of the Northern Crees
by Robert Bell
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.10, No.36, pp. 1-8
January-March, 1897

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: Explains how the beaver tribe and the Canada jay acquired their distinctive traits.

Cultural Heroes: Che-che-puy-ew-tis emerges as a wise founder and counselor of the beaver people.

Journey to the Otherworld: The hero dives into an underwater wigwam at the lake’s bottom.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

The following is the most complete account of the hero which I have obtained. It was compiled by Mr. C.H.M. Gordon, at Rupert’s House, near the southeastern extremity of James Bay, from several versions of the narrative, as told by different Indians living in that part of the country, and I give it mostly in his own words.

Once upon a time there lived an Indian, his wife, and their only son. The period had nearly arrived for the woman to be delivered of her second child. The husband had a presentiment that something was going to happen to his wife, for he repeatedly warned her when he went off hunting to take care of herself, and that if any sign of danger arose she was to hide their son under the brush flooring of the wigwam.

One day, while the man was away from the wigwam hunting, a Toosh, or devil, came, and finding only the woman in the tent, cruelly killed and disembowelled her, throwing aside the womb containing the unborn child.

The Indian returned from his hunt and found the mutilated corpse of his wife, but he was in time to catch the Toosh, which he put to an ignominious death. His son he found alive, as his wife had taken the precaution to hide him under the brush of the wigwam floor, as she had been told.

For a number of days the man remained in his tent, mourning the death of his wife.

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It happened that just after the womb had been thrown aside, an A-pook-a-shish (mouse) chanced to hunt in that direction, and saw what she thought to be food, but on nibbling at it she was surprised to find it quivering, and on further examination she saw what proved to be a living child. Being of a kind disposition, she took it home and nursed it tenderly, and called it Che-che-puy-ew-tis (the little one that moves or quivers). The Indian and his son now moved their wigwam (which is an universal custom among these people when a death has occurred).

When the son had almost arrived at manhood he became a keen hunter, but was very unfortunate in losing his arrows. So frequently did this happen that at last he told his father of it. “Come now,” said the old man, “shoot an arrow a short distance from where we stand, and we cannot fail to see what will become of it.” The boy did as he was told, and was surprised to see an A-pook-a-shish run away with it. “This is how my arrows are lost,” he said. “I will follow and see where she takes them.” He did so, and came to the wigwam of the A-pook-a-shish. On entering he saw all the arrows he had lost, but they were in possession of a young boy, who was amusing himself with them. The A-pook-a-shish now told the young man that this child was his brother, and related exactly the manner in which she had saved him, but cautioned him not to tell his father when he returned, as the old man might not be pleased. The lad did as the A-pook-a-shish told him, and after that he often went and visited his brother. Occasionally, when they thought the father was absent, they returned home together.

The father at last noticed that there were footprints of two sizes about the tent, and questioned his son regarding them. But the boy, still wishing to keep secret the identity of his brother, gave a misleading answer. The A-pook-a-shish having heard about it, said it would be much better for them to go to the wigwam together, for sooner or later their father would be certain to find them out: So Che-che-puy-ew-tis took his little brother home to their father’s wigwam.

When the Indian returned in the evening with his hunt, he noticed the boy in the tent, and asked his son who the little stranger was, and where he had found him. The lad told him it was his young brother, and related how the A-pook-a-shish had discovered him after the murder of his mother, and gave him full particulars, which satisfied the man that this was really his child. He pretended to be very glad, and told his sons to go at once to the A-pook-a-shish’s wigwam with the meat of a whole beaver, and thank her for having rescued his son. But all the time he was meditating on a scheme to get rid of both the boys, as he intended taking a second wife. Still, for some time after this they all lived together in harmony with one another.

Whilst the father was off hunting, the sons always used to remain about the wigwam, but they noticed that he always went to hunt in one direction, and wondered why he did this. So they made up their minds to follow his path when an opportunity should occur, and find out the reason for his strange behavior.

The next day the old man did not go hunting as usual, so the boys took advantage of this chance to investigate, and they followed up his tracks until they stopped at the margin of a deep lake, and further pursuit seemed impossible. But Che-che-puy-ew-tis was equal to the occasion. He said to his brother: “Pull up some strong spruce-roots [”watap”] fasten them around my waist, then take hold of the other end and I will go under the water. When you feel the roots shake, be sure and pull me out again.” Che-che-puy-ew-tis then went into the water and found, as he expected, a large wigwam in the bottom of the lake. At the door were two Pishews (lynxes). He took hold of both of them, shook the roots, and his brother pulled him to the surface again. They killed the Pishews, and returning presented them to their father; but the old man, instead of being pleased, wept bitterly, and told his sons that hereafter it would be better for them to live separate; so going out of the tent, he left them together.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis, knowing their father was angry, said to his brother: “Our father will certainly come again in the morning, so let us make a number of arrows and be prepared. They did so, and, as the elder brother said, their father appeared in the morning, in company with a number of Pishews, who began to attack the boys; but the arrows they had made the night before played havoc among the Pishews, so that not one of them escaped. The following morning the attack was repeated with a fresh lot of Pishews, but Che-che-puy-ew-tis this time, after the animals were all slaughtered, shot an arrow at his father and slew him also.

The two boys now lived together and were very happy, hunting in company and killing all kinds of game.

Years had passed when one night Che-che-puy-ew-tis was awakened by his brother talking to some person, as he thought, and wondered who it could be. In the morning, when his brother went out, Che-che-puy-ew-tis looked into his robe, but found only some rotten wood. He threw it out of the wigwam, saying, “Why do you soil my brother’s robe?” The next night he again heard his brother in conversation with some unknown person, and in the morning, on looking into his robe, found this time an Atik (frog), which he threw outside with the same exclamation.

Then Che-che-puy-ew-tis said to himself, “I will find wives for my brother,” and he did find them, bringing home two young squaws, whom he presented to him. Thus they lived for some time, the younger brother having two wives and the elder not even one. At length one of the wives became discontented and said to the other: “I will remove to the left side of the wigwam, where our brother-in-law sits. He has no mate, and besides I find it inconvenient for both of us to be staying with one man.” The other wife consented, and the next time the young men returned they found only the oldest of the wives sitting in her usual place on the right side of the wigwam, the youngest having gone over to the left side, where Che-che-puy-ew-tis generally sat

When the men laid down their day’s hunt at the door, as is customary, the youngest of the women pulled Che-che-puy-ew-tis’s share to the side she had taken possession of, which clearly showed that she wanted this hunter for herself. But Che-che-puy-ew-tis did not agree with the arrangement which had been made by the women, and he also knew that his brother would be displeased with it. Besides, he wanted a wife of his own choosing. He therefore left the tent secretly.

After Che-che-puy-ew-tis had walked a considerable distance, he met with an Atik (deer). They conversed together for some time, and then he told her to find a suitable spot on which to erect a wigwam whilst he went hunting for some food for their supper. He returned in the evening and stayed with Atik one night, but would not remain another, as he thought Atik’s legs were too long. So he departed in the morning.

He next met a Muskwa (black bear), but only remained with her one night as he had done with the Atik, her claws being too long and sharp to suit him.

Then he fell in with Kak (porcupine), but again one night was sufficient for him to remain with her. She could not look him straight in the face, her neck being too short and her sharp quills were also very disagreeable. So he left her, as he had done the others, and went on his journey, still determined to find a suitable mate.

The next creature Che-che-puy-ew-tis fell in with was a Wes-ku-chan (“whiskey-jack,” the Canada jay). They made a wigwam for the night, as usual, and Che-che-puy-ew-tis provided a beaver for their supper, leaving it, Indian fashion, at the door. But it proved too heavy for poor Wes-ku-chan to manage, and she broke both her legs in trying to haul the carcass into the tent. Che-che-puy-ew-tis was equal to the occasion, and, taking the string off his bow, he bound the legs up nicely and the little bones soon grew together again, but to this day the marks of the bowstring can be seen on the legs of all Wes-ku-chan’s descendants. Che-che-puy-ew-tis did not remain more than one night with her, she being altogether too inquisitive. So he proceeded on his way again.

All at once an Amisk (beaver) met him, and without waiting to be asked she said to him: “If you want a mate, I will go and live with you.” She appeared more to his taste than the others, so he answered: “Yes, but you must not be lazy. You will always require to work hard; and one thing which I shall insist upon is, that whenever we come upon a creek you must lay brush or sticks for me to walk upon. If you fail once in doing this, the creek will turn into a river and we will be lost to each other.” So the Amisk agreed to the terms and they lived happily together. One day, unfortunately, Amisk (who was supposed to know a creek when she came to one) made a mistake. She was not certain that what she saw was a creek or not, and did not lay sticks or brush for her husband as usual.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis, when he returned to his mate in the evening, was horrified to find that the water at which he had left her had now turned into a large river. He only now found out that Amisk had made a mistake, and he bewailed the loss of his mate for a long time.

Walking one day along the bank of this large river, he saw to his surprise his wife swimming and diving about in the water, evidently enjoying herself. Che-che-puy-ew-tis called out: “Come ashore; you must not leave me.” But Amisk said: “I cannot live ashore any longer; I find this water more to my liking; you had better come to me instead; see how easy it is to swim and dive. Throw me one of your mittens and I will show you that the water is not even wet.” This she said in order to entice Che-che-puy-ew-tis to go to her. He threw one of his mittens to her as she had requested, and Amisk, diving down, brought it to the surface quite dry, having secretly anointed it with her oil. She threw it to Che-che-puy-ew-tis, saying: “Have I not told you that the water will not even wet you, just as it does not wet your mitten?” Che-che-puy-ew-tis was now convinced, so he jumped into the water and was astonished to find that he was quite at home therein, and he stayed with his mate and lived as the beavers live.

Towards the autumn they started to build a house, but Che-che-puy-ew-tis was not at all satisfied with the way Amisk set about it, which was after the manner of the old-time beavers. He knew that, if they did not make it better than that, the Indian hunters would surely be able to kill them, as they had killed so many beavers already, if they should find their house. So he showed Amisk how to fasten the large sticks, knit together the smaller ones, and mix them with stones, and how to plaster it with mud which would freeze solid, till at length they had made quite a secure abode. They lived happily together there for a time, but after a while something happened which broke the harmony, and one day Che-che-puy-ew-tis said to Amisk: “As I left my brother’s wigwam without his knowledge, and as I know he has a great regard for me, I am certain, it being now winter, that he will look everywhere till he finds me, and if he discovers us here he will be sure to kill you. Come, let us make holes along the bank, so that, should the house be broken into, you will be able to escape.”

Several months had passed, and the elder brother (Mejigwis) was very much annoyed at Che-che-puy-ew-tis for having left him without giving any warning, and was displeased with his youngest wife, who had been the cause of his departure. Whilst hunting this winter it had seemed to him that the character of the Westa (beaver houses) had changed,—that the Amisks had constructed them differently from those of former years. In consequence of this he now found it difficult enough to keep his family in beaver meat. At last it dawned upon him that there must be some one wiser than the Amisks themselves guiding and directing them, and who could this person be but his brother Che-che-puy-ew-tis. He therefore redoubled his efforts to find him, and, acting on the idea he had formed, he directed his attention to the beaver-houses. One day, while out hunting, a larger Westa than he had been accustomed to see attracted his attention, and cautiously approaching he broke into it and was rewarded by finding his long-lost brother; but the Amisk escaped to the holes they had made in the bank.

Che-che-puy-ew-tis was brought back to his brother’s wigwam, and the best of everything was given to him, but one thing he stipulated was, that when any of the party brought home a Pay-uko Amisk (a solitary beaver), he was to be sure and mention it, as he was afraid that some day his brother might kill his mate, and he did not wish to eat her, as he knew that something would happen to himself if he did so.

His brother obeyed his wish as long as there were plenty of Amisks to kill, but frequently he was able to bring home only barely sufficient meat to feed the party, and one day he came back to the wigwam with only one beaver, and it was a Pay-uko Amisk. But he did not let Che-che-puy-ew-tis know about it, as they did not like to see him take no part in the meal. So they cooked the Amisk, and first offered Che-che-puy-ew-tis some of the liquid it had been boiled in; but he refused it, saying he feared that, as his brother had killed only one, it might be a Pay-uko Amisk. “Oh, no,” said his brother; “there were quite a number of Amisks along with this one, only all the rest escaped.” So Che-che-puy-ew-tis, believing his brother, drank of the liquor and ate of the flesh; but immediately after he had done so, he was transformed into a real Amisk, and jumping into the creek, on the bank of which the wigwam stood, he dived under the water and was lost forever to his brother. But he still lives as a Kitche-kisai-misk (a great old beaver), and it is his wisdom to this day that prevents the Indians from entirely exterminating the Amisk tribe, of which he is the great chief and counsellor.

The story of the Four Winds

In a village by the river, a young hunter reluctant to marry imposes an impossible test on maidens by asking them to hang his blanket on a sunbeam and see his invisible form. All fail except a hideous sorceress who becomes his wife. After violent attempts to kill her, she resurrects and gives birth to a child who later becomes the mother of the four winds.

Source:
History and Folklore of
the Cowichan Indians
by Martha Douglas Harris
The Colonist
Printing and Publishing Company
Victoria, British Columbia, 1901
(Chapter: “Folklore of the Cree Indians”)

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale explains how the four winds came into being through the girl’s forbidden act of stooping toward the rising sun.

Supernatural Beings: A hideous sorceress and the elemental spirits of the winds play central, otherworldly roles.

Magic and Enchantment: Spells, invisibility tests, and magical resurrection drive the plot’s conflicts and resolutions.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

In a village, by the river there lived a very handsome young man, who was content to live with his sister and employ his time hunting. His sister was very industrious, and put up many things for the long winters. She was very plain, and no one cared to marry her, though she was known to be so good and clever. One day she said to her brother: My brother, you must now think of getting a wife. The girls are all dying of jealousy when you go to see them. Now, please choose one and bring her home.”

“Well, sister, you ask me a hard thing to do, for I don’t like any of them; but if you say I must marry, well I have to obey you. Now, when they come to see me in the lodge, the one that is able to hang my blanket on the sunbeam and then see me— for I shall be invisible to everyone except you—I will marry.”

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“Well, you have given them a hard task, but I will call the girls tomorrow.”

So he went to invite all the girls to come to see her brother, who, she said, was going to choose a wife. What excitement reigned! The next day early the pretty girls went in, one by one. “Take this blanket, sister, and hang it on this sunbeam.”

The girl tried her best, but it was impossible to do it.

“Now, sister, do you see my brother?”

The poor girl had to say no. Then all the girls were tried, but none could see him or put the blanket on the sunbeam. Now, there lived in the village a very hideous old woman, skilled in magic, and when she heard that the girls had all been refused, she was angry and went off to the young man’s lodge. When the sister saw her come in, she knew it was all up with her brother, but she said: “Good day, sister; can you put the blanket on this sunbeam?”

“Yes, indeed I can,” so she immediately hung the blanket up.

“Now, sister, do you see my brother?”

“Hey! Of course I do; there he sits, dressed in a green coat made of ducks’ necks, and a cap of the swans’ breasts.”

So the young man lamented his stupidity in refusing the pretty girls and having to marry this hateful old thing. Marry he had to, but with very bad grace. The next day he went out hunting, and she went with him to bring home the meat, and when far away he turned on her and killed her and cut her to pieces and went home. The next day he went out again, and who should he see but his wife coming towards him, singing to a child. “See our child!” she cried, and he had to go to her. It seems that during the struggle he had lost some fringe off his coat, and out of this she made a child. So he tried to kill her again; but after a long struggle she was the victor, but before he died: “Never let our daughter stoop down to the east when she goes to gather sticks for the fire.” Then he died. The old woman went back to the village with the child, and lived with the young man’s sister. She never would tell what had happened to him. She was very careful of the child, and as soon as she could run about, she told her never to stoop down to the cast, where the sun rose from. What would happen she could not tell. One day, when the girl was about sixteen, she went to gather wood, and forgot all about the caution, when she stooped down towards the sun. Then she was carried away and became the mother of the four winds. They all have names, but I have forgotten them.

Wie-sah-ke-chack

The culture-hero Wie-sah-ke-chack survives a devastating flood with animals on a raft, sends the beaver to retrieve earth and recreates the world by blowing the earth ball into existence. He then gains power to dislodge his eyes and engages in trickster exploits punishing greed, explaining natural traits such as red eyelids, clumsy water-hens, and the origin of pine trees bearing his name.

► Themes of the story

Creation: The myth describes the remaking of the world after a great flood, detailing how earth was retrieved and blown into a new land.

Origin of Things: It explains the origins of various natural traits (red eyelids, clumsy water-hen gait, pine “Wie-sah-ke-chack” trees) through the hero’s adventures.

Loss and Renewal: The flood destroys the old world, and subsequent losses (beaver, eyes, hunters) lead to renewal and new beginnings.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

In olden days a great flood came upon earth, and all the people were destroyed except Wie-sah-ke-chack and a few animals. They were on a raft. It was terrible. After a long time of it, Wie-sah-ke-chack said to the animals: “Which of you will go down and see if you can find the earth. Bring me a little and I will make a new world.”

The little water-rat tried, but he could not go far enough down: so the beaver offered to go; and, after tying a long string to one of his feet, he sprang off the raft and down into the water. The string quivered, and at last stopped. “Our brother is dead.” So they pulled up the heaver, and sure enough he was dead, but in his paws he held a little earth.

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This Wie-sah-ke-chack took and, blowing into the heaver’s face, he came to life again. Then Wie-sah-ke-chack made a small ball of the earth, and kept blowing on it, and it grew larger and larger, till it was so large that he thought it was large enough for them to live on, so he asked the wolf to go and see; but the wolf came back and said that it was not half large enough, so he kept blowing and the earth growing, and the second time the wolf went; but no, it was not large enough. The third time the wolf went to see, he never came back, so from that they knew that the world was big enough for all to live on. That is the beginning of the world. Many years after — I don’t know how many, but long enough for the people to increase — Wie-sah-ke-chack was walking along one day singing his song—he always carried his song on his back—when he saw a man sitting on a log, taking out his eyes and throwing them up in the air. He stood and looked with astonishment at this wonderful thing. He then shewed himself and asked what, his brother was doing.

“Oh,” said the man, “my head was aching, and this is the way I cure myself.”

“Oh, please show me, too.”

“Remember,” said the man, after shewing Wie-sah-ke-chack how to do the trick, “only do it when your head really aches; if you do it when it does not, you will lose your eyes.”

He promised faithfully, so they parted, and Wie-sah-ke-chack was all impatience to try the new remedy. At last he got a headache and then joy; he could throw his eyes up in the air. “How much better I feel now,” said he, after playing a long time with his eyes. Then he went on his journey again, but still longing to try again. At last he could not resist the temptation, and, sitting down, exclaimed: “What a headache I have; how ill I feel”—all make believe. So out came his eyes, and for several times they dropped into the sockets safely. At last they fell on the ground and were snapped up by a while fox, who had been watching him. How Wie-sah-ke-chack cried and lamented the loss of his eyes, when suddenly he felt a sharp prick on his poor empty eye-sockets. “Who is trying to hurt me, now that I have lost my eyes? If I catch him I will kill him.”

Then the pricking still went on, till he was perfectly frantic. At last he caught the white fox by his leg and held him up and threatened to pull him to pieces. The fox prayed him to let him go, “for,” said the fox, “I will take you to a place where you can get some pitch and make eyes for yourself.”

Wie-sah-ke-chack would not let the fox go, but tied him with a cord, so the fox led him to an old pine tree, and there he found good white pitch and made eyes for himself; but his eye-lids were always red, and that is the reason why old people get red eyes from Wie-sah-ke-chack.

After his eyes were restored, he went on and saw a beaver lying asleep, and he ran and caught him by the tail, and put his fire-bag on a tree-limb overhanging the water, and forgot it there. The beaver he tied to his back and went to make a fire and cook the beaver. Presently the beaver gave him such a slap with his tail, and then another, that Wie-sah-ke-chack was glad to let him go. “Now, where is my fire-bag?” So he went back to where he had found the beaver, and there, in the water, was the bag. How was he to get it? At last the beaver got there, and laughed at him. “Look up, you stupid, and see where it is; but you won’t make a fire for me today.”

So Wie-sah-ke-chack had to go hungry. He pulled in his belt. He was so famished, and he was walking on very sadly when he came across a beautiful deer. “Now, here is my meat.” Then, calling to the deer, he said: “Good day, brother; let us play a while, and do you pretend I am going to shoot you, but I’ll only pretend.”

So the deer began to run up and down, tossing his beautiful head and springing in the air; the arrows would fall short, and Wie-sah-ke-chack would pretend to be vexed. At last he aimed at the deer’s heart and shot at his poor brother and killed him. Now what a feast he would have! So, skinning the deer and getting the fire ready and cutting the choicest bits and putting them on la pola sticks to broil before the fire, he did not know if he had better sleep first or wash first, so he said he would sleep after the feast. So he went to the water-side, and, bathing himself carefully and combing his hair, at length he was ready, and how good the meat smelt! So, going to two pine trees that were growing out of one stein, he got between them and told them to squeeze him till his appetite was better. The trees began to squeeze him gently, but firmly. Now, this good smell of cooking had brought all the animals to the feast, and they began, without ceremony, to eat the feast. “Stop! Stop! That is my feast. Here, let me go!” but the trees held him fast, and in his anger he broke all the branches he could reach and threw them at the animals. At last everything was eaten, and the bones picked clean, and the fire put out, and the uninvited guests dispersed, when the trees let him loose. These trees are called Wie-sah-ke-chack trees, as they punished him for his greediness. Now he fumed and raged, but to no purpose. Going along, he found a man who was hunting, but this hunting was new to Wie-sah-ke-chack. The man had a number of little men who hunted for him, and they had killed a large deer. He opened a large sack and called the little men to come back, and they all stepped into the sack, and he shut it up. Now, Wie-sah-ke-chack stepped out and said: “Good day, brother. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I am just hunting.”

“And what have you in your bag?”

“I have my little men, and they hunt for me.”

“Oh, how I wish I could have some hunters, too.” “Well,” said the stranger, “I’ll be glad to give you some; but when you are hunting, don’t let the little men go out of fight, or you will lose them.” So, giving Wie-sah-ke-chack some men and picking up the deer, the stranger disappeared.

How happy was our friend, and he strode off into the woods, quite happy. Presently he came into a large open glade, and there he saw a deer grazing, so opening the sack, he let the little men out, and they ran and shot the deer. He was so busy with the deer that he forgot to call the little men back, and they disappeared, and he was inconsolable. So he cooked his deer and ate it; and the next day, shouldering his sack, off he went.

The birds had all assembled before winter. They had called a meeting, and after the meeting they were to have a dance; but there was no one to sing for them, when suddenly they saw Wie-sah-ke-chack coming. What calling and shouting! “Come here, Wie-sah-ke-chack; how glad we are to see you, for we are going to have a big dance tonight, and want you to sing for us.”

“Hey!” cried he; “why, you have nothing ready for your dance.”

“Well, what must we do? “

“First of all,” said he, “you must build a big lodge, and put a division in the middle of it, and by and by the fat birds must dance on one side and the lean ones on the other, and then I must paint YOU.”

So they were all busy, and after the lodge was made, they came to be painted. Out of the sack the paints came, and the swan was the first to get ready; so Wie-sah-ke-chack painted him all white, with black feet and nose. How beautiful he looked. Then the wood-duck, with all his lovely colours on. It was a rare sight to see these painted birds. Well, when they were all ready the fat birds went to one side and the lean to the other, and then they were told to shut their eyes while they danced. Such fine songs Wie-sah-ke-chack sung! I have forgotten them now, so I can’t tell you how they went. By and by the noise of the dancing became less and less, and at last La Pooldo, the little water-hen, opened her eyes—and what should she see but Wie-sah-ke-chack killing her people and throwing them outside — only the fat ones, of course. So she got near the door and then shouted, “Wie-sah-ke-chack is killing us!” and as she ran out of the door he stepped on her back and almost broke it, and that is why the water-hen is now so clumsy when she walks. Then the dance broke up, and the birds that were left flew away. Now, there was a fine beach there—a long’ stretch of lovely white sand—and Wie-sah-ke-chack thought he would make his feast there, so he buried the birds, with their legs sticking up, and built a big fire over them. Then he lay down and slept, and when he awakened he went to bathe and refresh himself. What a fine appetite he had, and how be would enjoy himself after all the hard work! So, scraping the ashes away, he pulled up the first bird, and only legs came up—no body at all. Well, the fire must have been too hot. Then he tried the next bird, and the same thing happened; so he ran along, pulling up his feast, but nothing but legs came. Then he knew his feast had been stolen from him. It seems that the foxes had come down and eaten all the birds up whilst he slept, and then stuck the legs back again so as to deceive Wie-sah-ke-chack.

There are other adventures, but they are not clear in my mind, so I will not write them. The legend is that the person who can tell all about the adventures, of Wie-sah-ke-chack will live to be very old. So I leave my story, with great reluctance, owing to my inability to remember more, and having to face a short life in consequence.

The birth of Lake Mistassini

On a hunting expedition, two brothers split. At a secret pool one encounters a giant mother otter and her multi-colored pups. He runs to tell his brother, who returns eagerly to join him; when they fire, the waters boil, flood the land, and chase the brothers relentlessly. Fleeing to high rocks at Mistassini post, one is devoured, the deluge ceases, and the lake forms.

Source:
Folk-Lore of the Cree Indians
by Fred Swindlehurst
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.18, No.69, pp. 139-143
April-June, 1905

► Themes of the story

Origin of Things: The tale explains the creation of the lake at Mistassini through the flood caused by the otter’s wrath.

Conflict with Nature: The brothers’ attempt to hunt the otter provokes a catastrophic flood, pitting humans against the forces of nature.

Mythical Creatures: The enormous mother otter and her vividly hued pups are legendary beasts central to the story.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Cree Lore

Learn more about the Cree people

Two brothers went out on a hunting excursion. They separated at a certain point, and each took a different route. One of them came to a small pool and saw in the water an enormous otter. He was just about to kill it when several young otters emerged from the pool. He noticed that they were of different colors, some red, some blue, and some green. Amazed at the unusual sight, he ran to inform his brother of the strange occurrence. The brother wished to go back and shoot the animals, so they started off together. As soon as the old otter made her appearance, one of the brothers fired. It dived, and immediately the water of the pool began to boil and foam and flood the surrounding land. The brothers ran in opposite directions and the water followed them. At last one of them was brought to a halt at some high rocks near the post of Mistassini, and the old otter devoured him. The waters then ceased to rise, and the lake remained as it is today.

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An Athabascan Tradition from Alaska

After their father declares them too old to hunt, two brothers set off in search of sustenance. They follow mysterious tracks, encounter a hostile village of warrior-women (where the elder brother is killed), and the younger presses onward alone. He slays monstrous porcupines, eagles, and a lynx blocking his path. At death’s brink, an ermine rescues him home, earning its white-necked marking in gratitude.

Source:
An Athabascan Tradition from Alaska
by Arthur Wright
The American Folklore Society
Journal of American Folklore
Vol.21, No.80, pp. 33-34
January-March, 1908

► Themes of the story

Hero’s Journey: The younger brother undergoes a transformative adventure, departing home, facing trials, and returning wiser.

Origin of Things: The tale explains why the ermine bears a white “necklace,” offering a mythic origin for a natural trait.

Supernatural Beings: He confronts and overcomes giant porcupines, eagles, and a lynx, all imbued with monster-like powers.

► From the same Region or People

North America
- Sub-Arctic Region
  - Athabaskan Lore

Learn more about the Athabaskan people

Contributed as part of the Proceedings of the California Branch of the American Folk-Lore Society. This tradition is communicated through Rev. W. A. Brewer, of Burlingame, Cal. The author, one of his pupils, is from a Yukon tribe which he calls Tonidzughultsilhnu.

An old man, his wife, and two sons lived in the valley between the Koyukuk and Yukon. The man had become too old to go out any longer, and told his boys that they must travel alone. They answered that they wished to go.

In the morning they found a porcupine track. Following this down stream, they came to a large river running full of ice. At the edge of the water the track disappeared. The brothers leaped on a cake of ice and floated down stream. Landing again and looking for food, they found a fish that had been left on the ice, and saw many sled-tracks. They followed these. Then they heard faint weeping. Going on cautiously, they saw a porcupine carrying a load. Coming close, they asked it why it cried. When it did not answer, they clubbed it dead, cooked it, and ate it.

Going on, they saw a village. An old woman came out, saw them, and called to the people of the village to prepare food for them. The brothers entered a large house, where an old man was seated on a caribou-skin.

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They sat down on each side of him on caribou-skins and were given food. Seeing only young women, besides the old man and woman, the brothers asked where the young men were. The young women said that there were none, but that they could do many difficult things that even men could hardly do. The older brother boasted that they could not overcome him, but the young women answered that they were only explaining why they did not need men.

In the morning the young women went hunting. The brothers went with them. Then the women outran the older brother and teased him. Becoming angry, he said:

“You cannot do one thing. Stand at a distance and shoot at me. If I am not hit, I will shoot at you.”

The younger tried to interpose, warning him of the women’s ability; but the older remained angry and insisted. The women finally consented. When they shot, he leaped, but four arrows struck him together and he fell dead. The younger brother mourned for him.

When he wished to return and asked the way, he was told that it was dangerous, and the monsters he would meet were described to him. Nevertheless he started.

After going some time, he saw a cliff with the nest of enormous birds. The old ones were away, but he found a young eagle.

“What do your parents do when they come?” he asked.

“When they come,” the eaglet answered, “it becomes dark, it blows, and there is thunder. When it is my mother, it rains. When it is my father who comes, it hails.”

Then the young man killed the young bird. He waited. It became dark, and thundered, and rained, while the air was blown against him by the beating of the great bird’s wings. The young man shot it, and springing forward killed it with his moose-horn club. When the other bird came, he killed it too.

He went on until he came to a porcupine as high as a hill, which was in a cave through which the young man must travel. He could find no way around. Hiding outside the cave, he made a noise. The porcupine started to back out, lashing its tail against the mountain-side until the tail was bare of its enormous quills. Then as it emerged the young man shot it and clubbed it to death.

Going on, he saw tracks of an enormous lynx. This — the women had told him — was the strongest of the monsters. Here, too, he tried to go around, but could not. Then he tried to shoot it, but the lynx caught his arrows with its claws. Seeing his attempts were in vain, he waited for death. Then the lynx ordered him to clear away the snow so it could sit at ease while devouring him, and to heap up wood by which it could cook him. The young man did this, but the lynx told him to gather more firewood. The young man gathered, going farther each time. Then he heard some one say:

“Brother, quickly stand on my back and I will carry you away.”

“Where art’ you?” he asked.

“Here.”

Looking down, he saw an ermine at his feet. “I will kill you if I step on your back,” he said.

“No, jump on me. I will carry you.”

Then he jumped strongly, but the ermine did not even move.

“Your back is too small. I cannot sit on it.”

“Lay a stick across my back, and put another across my neck for your feet.”

He laid the sticks across the ermine and sat down. Immediately it carried him to his house.

The young man’s parents rejoiced to see him. In gratitude they gave the ermine a shell necklace. That is why the ermine has white around its neck.