“What have you got there, Hyas?”

“Oh, nothing,” said he.

“Let me see,” and she snatched the nest and birds out of his hands, and the little things flew in her face and scratched her. Then she began to call Hyas names.

“Well, you would see the partridges, and I brought them home for the children to play with.”

“Never mind; I’ll tell your father what you have done to me.”

At evening the father came back from his hunting, so tired, and the young wife showed her face and said: “See how your son, that hateful Hyas, has scratched my face.”

The old man was very angry, and said: “Stop! Stop! Tomorrow I’ll pay him for this; keep quiet and you’ll see what will happen.”

Early next morning the old man called Hyas and said: “My dear son, yesterday I found a nest with red eggs in it, and I left them there, thinking you would like to get them yourself.”

“Where? Where?” cried Hyas, much excited. “I have always wished to find red eggs. How glad I am that I shall at last see them. “Well,” said his father, come with me and I’ll show you.”

So into the canoe they got and off they went, Hyas first kissing his mother, but she wept, she was so sad, for she feared some evil would befall her son. For Hyas was her only stand-by, and he would never let the young wife ill-treat her. However, he would be home in the evening.

Now, the canoe was a magic one, and all one had to do was to strike it and off it would shoot along the water, and when it slackened—whack! give it another blow, and that was all that was needed. At last, near evening, they came to an island, right in the centre of the wide river. “Now, my son,” said the father, “jump ashore; this is the island where I found the red eggs.”

“Thank you, my father; I will not be long,” and Hyas bounded off, so anxious to secure this great prize. Just as soon as Hyas had disappeared, the old man turned his canoe homeward, and left his voice behind to speak to Hyas and lure him further into the woods. Whack! and the canoe sped away, leaving poor Hyas. Hyas hunted, hunted everywhere, then cried to his father: “I can’t find the red ones.”

“Go into the middle of the island; there you will find them,” answered the voice.

So at it again, up and down through the little island, searched Hyas; but how could he find the eggs, as there were none there to find? So, in despair, he at last came back to the water’s edge. Ah! but where was the canoe? Hyas looked and saw it far out on the stream, going ever further away from the shore. “Father! Father! Come back and take me home.”

“No, indeed, not after you scratched my wife’s face.”

“No, no; I did not. She would play with the young partridges, and they scratched her.”

“Well, stay where you are and die; I am tired of supporting you,” and swiftly the canoe carried the evil old man far away—far away home.

Hyas threw himself down, crying. He could not swim that swift river. He had not tools to make a canoe with, so he gave himself up to despair.

Hist! A voice! “Hyas, get up; don’t cry, and shoot one of the gulls that are flying about.”

At first Hyas would not move, but the voice kept calling: “Hyas, Hyas, take the gull’s skin, and you can fly across the river.” So at last he was persuaded, and, taking his small bow and arrow’s, he got up and started to shoot at the gulls. At last he killed one— a young bird—-and skinned it, put it on and began to fly. He circled near the shore, but alas! it burst, and down fell poor Hyas. How he cried, but the voice urged him again. “Hyas! Hyas! Shoot an old bird— a white one.” So again the poor lad tried and managed to shoot a very large one. So with great haste he skinned it and put it round his body and began to fly—this time across the river. When near the opposite shore the skin burst and he fell into the water, but was just able to swim to shore. He thanked the spirit for helping him, and off he went. “Chee! Chee!” he heard a voice calling, and, looking up, he saw an old squirrel, who said: “Is that you, my grandson? I heard that your father had left you on the island to die. How bitterly I have cried. You see my eyes are quite red with weeping.”

“Yes, grandmother, my father is a wicked man. Now, tell me how I may get home.”

“Come first and eat,” said the squirrel, and she laid a large store of nuts and roots before poor Hyas. “The way is very long and full of your father’s evil spirits, my grandson. You must try and kill these, and then you will get home. Take these shoes with you, and when in danger put them on, and you will be able to escape.”

She gave him a beautiful little pair of squirrel magic shoes, so that if he wished to escape from danger all he had to do was to put them on and he would turn to a squirrel. He thanked her and went off.

The next day he met a huge toad, who was waiting for him. This was one of his father’s evil spirits.

“Good day, my grandson; where are you going?” she croaked.

“I am going home,” said he.

“The way is very dangerous, and I would help you; so take these shoes, and when you are in danger put them on, and you can become like me.” If he had once put on her shoes, he would have remained a toad.

“Tish!” said Hyas, scornfully, and stamped on the toad and crushed her flat. Walking on he came to a wide river. Now, how was he to get over? He did not know, so he must get some one to tell him. Just then a little green frog appeared and said: “Hie! Is that you, Hyas?”

“Yes, I am Hyas.”

“I have been looking for you, for I heard that your father had left you on the island, and that you had got off. How, I will help you. When you are in danger, use these little shoes I give you, and you will become like me.”

“Thank you, grandmother; but how am I to cross this river?”

“Well, we must ask your grandfather, the great snake, what he can do; he is very old now. Come, let us find him.” So they went down to the edge of the river, and there, on the beach, they found a monster snake lying; and, after much calling and poking with a stick to make him awake, he raised his head and asked why they disturbed him.

“It is Hyas, who wishes to cross,” said the little frog.

“If it is Hyas, then, I will help him. See first, Hyas, if there are any clouds in the sky.”

When Hyas said that the sky was clear, he said: “Now, put my head in the water and get on my back and tell me how to go, for I am very blind; and if I slacken speed, strike my horns.”

So Hyas put the snake in the water and jumped on his back, and struck the snake’s horns. It sounded just like thunder. Now, Hyas had noticed a tiny black cloud in the sky when the snake asked if there were any; but, thinking that so small a cloud was of no importance, he had said nothing about it. While the two were half across, the tiny cloud increased till it tilled the sky, and then the thunder and lightning began to dance the storm dance. “What is that, my son? Is it thunder I hear? I am so deaf.”

“No, no, grandfather; it is just the sound that I make when I strike your horns.”

When near the shore, suddenly the lightning and thunder struck the poor old snake and killed him. Hyas jumped ashore, weeping, because it was his fault the poor grandfather was killed. Weeping, Hyas gathered in some cedar bark the blood of the poor old snake and lay down beside it to sleep. By and by he heard scratching inside the bark, and when he moved it, there lay a young snake. He was so pleased, and put the snake in the water and it swam away. So on Hyas went till he met a little white fox.

“Well, Hyas, so you have escaped. I am glad to see you. I am one of the spirits sent to show you your way.”

“I thank you, fox.”

“Now, you must do all I tell you. Not far from here lives one of your father’s bad spirits; he is a fair-speaking man, but will try to kill you. Before we reach his lodge, you must hide me in your coat, and don’t eat anything he gives you, and don’t sleep.” So by and by they came near the place, and Hyas hid the little fox in his coat and went on; and, sure enough, there was a man sitting outside the lodge, who seemed so glad to see Hyas. “Come in, my dear child, come in, you must be so tired and hungry. Come in, and I will shelter you for tonight.”

So the man and Hyas went into the lodge, where a fire was burning in the middle. Now, this man had a very sore leg—how nasty it; was I may not tell. He, however, was very pleasant to Hyas, and when all was ready he said: Now, Hyas, come and eat.” But first of all he had squeezed his leg and put the poison in the food. The fox whispered: “Make believe that you are eating, and just drop the food down the inside of your coat, and I will eat it.” The man was very lame, but also very pleasant. So Hyas pretended to eat, and said how delicious the food was, while all the time giving it to the fox.

“Now, my son, you must be tired; go yonder and lie down on those skins, and I will tell you stories till you go to sleep.”

“Very well; I am tired, and I know I shall soon sleep,” said Hyas, and he lay down on the skins on his side of the fire. Then the man commenced to tell him his stories. Every now and then he would cry, “Hyas, do you sleep?” and Hyas would say, “Nay, Hum!” and the man, finding Hyas did not sleep, would continue his story. At last the fox said: “Don’t answer him, but keep wide awake.” The usual question, “Do you sleep, Hyas?” met with no response; but the man, to make sure, kept on with the story till Hyas begun to snore. Then he jumped up, and, unbuckling his bad leg, was just going to throw it on poor Hyas, when out bounded the fox, who seized the leg and shook it violently. Hyas, too, jumped up, and together they killed the man. How grateful Hyas was to the white fox. “Now go, my son, and be careful, for the next danger will be greater. You will hear women laughing and singing, and they will ask you to play with them, but you must kill them, as they are your enemies.” So saying he bid Hyas good speed and disappeared into the woods. Hyas trudged on, and the next day he heard great laughing. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” Peeping through the bushes he saw two women sitting in a high swing, and they laughed to think Hyas was coming, and how they should kill him. They had killed many people on this swing. Just below it was a large flat stone, and here they upset their victims. Then, with much fuss and noise, when Hyas showed himself they rushed to him and desired to kiss him; but no, Hyas would not be kissed.

“Come, Hyas, just get into the swing and let us swing you.”

“No, no,” said he. “Let me swing you first. Both of you get in and I’ll try.”

So, laughing greatly, they both got in, and Hyas pushed and pushed, and pretended they were heavy. “Hu-uh! You are so heavy.” All at once he put forth all his strength, and gave the swing a mighty push, and the two women went flying out and fell, crushing their heads on the flat stone below, on the place where many other victims had died. So those enemies were destroyed.

By the next day Hyas reached the place where the giants lived. They had a large dog, who took care of their hearts. He saw Hyas coming, and barked away like mad. “Hyas is coming—make ready for Hyas.” Hyas then put on the shoes that his grandmother squirrel had given him, and when the giants came running out they saw nothing. So they scolded the dog, who still insisted Hyas was there. “Well,” said one giant, “it you have seen him, tomorrow your eyes will be red.” So back they went to the lodge, and Hyas showed himself again to the dog, who was barking furiously. Now, the giants kept their hearts in an eagle’s nest on the top of a tall pine tree, which the dog guarded. So the next day, when the giants came out there, truly, the dog had seen Hyas, for his eyes were very red. So they hunted and called for Hyas, up and down; but he had turned himself into an eagle’s down, and floated up, up to the top of the pine tree where the giants’ hearts were kept. Up, up, floated the down, then swiftly came down on one of the hearts and pierced it. Down fell one of the giants with a loud groan, dead. Then there was great trouble amongst them, but again Hyas flew up and came down with the sharp end of the feather on another heart, and another giant fell dead. At last he had killed them all. Then he took their store of good things and went on.

Now, the fox had told him of the dangers he would meet with, and how he should overcome all his enemies, so Hyas was well prepared. The next trial now came. Towards evening he saw a lodge, and, coming softly up, he perceived two blind old women sitting on either side of the door. They were talking about him and wondering when he would come. “It is about time for him to arrive,” said one sister. So Hyas quietly slipped in between them and sat down inside. Now, round the lodge they had bags and bags of marrow fat. Hyas, going in, sat down by some of these bags. “Now,” said one sister, “I’ll go in and put the kettle on to boil, and if he comes the water will taste of marrow, and perhaps he will be here soon.” So she went to work, and soon the water boiled, and Hyas stepped up and dropped in a sack of marrow. The old woman said: “Let me see if Hyas has come.” She tasted the water and it tasted of marrow. “Hyas, arc you here?” No answer. “Hyas, are you here?” Still no answer. Then she took a stick and began to poke about and count the bags; at last the stick struck Hyas. “Well, Hyas, so you have come. Welcome, welcome.” And the two old wretches pretended to be so glad to see him, and gave him nice things to eat, and talked sweetly. At last he said he must go. Instantly they bared their arms, and out of their elbows were long bones, sharp as knives, and rushed to the door, to be ready to kill Hyas as he went out. He quick as thought took a bundle and put it on a stick and placed it between them. Then the fight began. Thinking they were hitting Hyas, the old wretches were striking each other, and soon they fell over, dead. How Hyas laughed. “Ho-o-ho!” He went on his way rejoicing. Not long after he heard a great noise, and as he came out of the woods he saw a great plain. Stretched across the plain was a string, held up at the ends of the world, and on it were hung bones — oh, how many millions! Deer bones, moose horns, elk, bison, goat — jaw bones, thigh bones — too many to count. The bows would come down and strike the earth —crash! — and then would bound up into the air, and while the bones were in the air the earth would open her mouth, and no one could possibly cross. Oh, the din! The horrid bones would drop down —crash! — all the time singing a wild song, “We have come to eat you, Hyas! Hyas, we have come to eat you!” and the earth would rumble and howl frightfully. “Hyas, Hyas, we will eat you!” Poor Hyas, what could he do? Suddenly he spied an eagle flying towards him. “Hey, grandfather,” he cried, “can you help me?”

“What can I do, grandson?”

“Oh, grandfather, if you could hold up the string till the earth closes her mouth, I could jump across.”

So Eagle swooped down and caught up the string of bones till the earth closed, and Hyas jumped across. After some days’ travelling he came near his old home, and all the birds began singing, “Hyas tucksin! Hyas tucksin!” and making a great noise. The poor old mother of Hyas came out of the lodge and she heard them. “Alas!” said she, “where is my poor son to come from? He is dead this long while.” But still the birds sang, “Hyas tucksin! Hyas tucksin!” Then Hyas looked, and there stood his mother, in rags and with scars of burns on her face. He ran forward and took her in his arms, crying: “Mother, I am here; look up. I have come back to you.”

“My son, my son!” she cried for joy.

“Tell me how my father has treated you since I have been gone.”

“Oh, I am a slave now, and they push me into the fire, and are very cruel to me.”

“Now, I will be avenged,” said Hyas. “Have they a young child?”

“Yes,” said she.

“Well, you must go in and ask my father for some bear’s grease for me, so that I may dress my hair, and if he refuses, ask to nurse the child, and make the fire red hot, and then throw the child in and run out to me, I am going to punish them all.”

Now, by this time all the people heard how Hyas came back, and his father came rushing out to see if it were true. Then, calling the people to bring beaver and marten skins for Hyas to walk on.

“Tush!” said he, kicking the skins aside. “I have walked so far without them. Do I need them now?”

The father knew now that Hyas was greater than he, and that his bad spirits had been killed, and he was afraid. The mother asked for the bear’s grease.

“Tish! No, indeed, I’ll not give him any, so go and tell your son that he can do without.”

So the poor old woman went to the child and took it to nurse it, as it was crying.

“Don’t let her have the child,” screamed the husband. “She means mischief.”

“Let her have it,” said the young mother, so the child was hushed by the old woman, who kept piling on the wood till the lodge was like a furnace. Then all at once she threw the child into the fire, and ran screaming to her son. He was waiting for her, and his father rushed out, but the fire had caught the lodge and burnt the inmates up. Then the village took fire and the people ran to their canoes. Hyas shot an arrow into the water and it began to boil, and their canoes were destroyed and they were drowned. Only Hyas and his mother were left alive. So he asked her what bird she would like to be, and she chose the lark, and die then became one; and Hyas turned into a beautiful red-breasted bird. So that was the end of all his travels and adventures.

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