There was once a man who, in company with his wife and little daughter, went hunting in a distant region. Having arrived at his destination, the man built a brush lodge in the woods. Every day he went in pursuit of game.
The man had three dogs, who were his brothers, and of whom he was fond. He shared his food with them and felt bad if they were ill-used. When he left them at home he always told his wife to feed them well and to take good care of them, but in spite of this she abused the dogs; no matter how long he was away, she would give them nothing to eat. At last, the smallest of the three dogs told the man how badly they were treated, saying, “Our sister-in-law never gives us anything to eat; whatever she cooks, she herself eats; if you will watch her, you will see how it is.” When her husband was around the woman was kind to the dogs in order to deceive him. The little dog, however, told him all that happened in the lodge while he was away hunting.
Now, the little dog was fond of good things; so one night he said to his brothers, “I will get some food without asking, if only you will help me.” He had noticed that the woman kept food for herself, which she hid under the skins on which she slept, and had seen her hide there a skin bag of roasted corn. He said further to his brothers, “You are large and strong and can get it while she is asleep.” “No,” said the large dog; “we are heavy and awkward, and we would only awaken her; but you are light and small, and so can lie down by her without being noticed.” “Very well; I will try,” was the little dog’s answer to this.
So at midnight, when all were sound asleep, the little dog, making his way to the bag of roasted corn hidden under the woman’s head, pulled it carefully until he got it out. The large dogs had drawn the door flap aside for him, and all three, well pleased, ran off toward the spring, where they could obtain water to wash down the roasted corn. The little dog said to one of his brothers, “You can carry the bag now.” In taking it he tore it open, when they found it was merely a pouch of roots, bark, and leaves instead of a bag of corn; so they had got into trouble for nothing. Then the large dog said, “The safest way for us is to carry this bag back, and you who got it [232]must return it.” So, taking it back, the little dog placed it with the torn side down, near the woman’s head. The next morning when the woman shook the skins she found the pouch torn and laid the blame on the mice.
A few days after this the little dog said to the man, “We are going to punish our sister-in-law for the bad treatment she gives us.” The man decided that he would say nothing, and that they might punish her if they wished. The next morning he said to his dogs, “You must stay at home, for I shall be away all night.” After he had gone the woman began cooking, and the little dog watched all her movements. When she took the meat down his mouth watered for a piece of it. The dogs sat around watching her as she cut it up, but she did not give them even a mouthful. It so chanced that she cut her finger badly and was not able to stanch the bleeding. In attempting to do so she even thrust the finger into her mouth and began sucking it. She found that she liked the taste of her own blood, and later even the meat she was cooking did not taste so good. So she sucked all the blood out of that finger; then she cut another finger and sucked that, for she had forgotten all about the cooking. Next she cut one arm and sucked it, then the other; then one leg and then the other. Finally, when she had sucked all the blood out of her body, she cut off her flesh, piece after piece, and ate it. The dogs sat around watching her, and her little girl also was looking on. After she had eaten all her own flesh she seized her daughter and, though the child cried and begged for mercy, the unnatural mother, paying no heed to her pleadings, killed her and ate her.
Then the woman ran off in the direction her husband had taken. Suddenly the hunter heard something behind him. Turning, he saw the little dog, who said to him: “I have come to tell you that your wife has become a man-eater; she has eaten the flesh off her own body and has eaten your child, and is now on your trail. We must run for our lives. We will go to the settlement and you must tell the people to leave the place and run, for one is following us who will devour them all. Those who believe you will escape, but those who do not will die. We must run with all speed, for she is following us fast.”
Now, it was through the orenda of the dogs and their influence that the woman had become a man-eater.
When they reached the settlement, the man told the people of their danger. Some escaped, but the woman quickly ate all who remained. Again she followed on her husband’s trail. The little dog told the man when the woman reached the settlement, and soon after said, “Now do your best, for she is coming with greater speed than before; we are near a large river.” The fugitives reached the river and the man, making a small raft, quickly got on it with his [233]dogs. He was in the middle of the stream when the woman reached the bank and called out, “Your flesh is mine. I am going to eat it.” Thereupon she made a great leap with the intention of landing on the raft, but missing it, she was drowned. After the fugitives had crossed the river and had given thanks for their escape, the little dog said, “We shall soon come to a village, and you must do my bidding.”
When they came to an opening or clearing in the forest they saw near by a wretched-looking lodge, and the little dog said, “We are going there; a couple of poor old people live in that lodge.” On entering, the hunter asked the old man of the lodge whether he could stay with him for a short time. The old man answered: “It is difficult to grant your request. We have as much as we can do to live ourselves.” “It is true,” said the man, “you are very poor; so are we. I am not in search of a good home. I am looking for people in my own circumstances.” “Very well,” said the old man, “you can stay with us, but the chief of the place knows already that you have come; he has great magic power and I am afraid that he will take your life.”
Some time passed. Every night the old man would spend a long time in relating the history of the chief and the people. As the visiting man was a good hunter, he brought in much game and soon the old man’s lodge was full of meat. After a while the old man said, “We have decided to adopt you, and you shall be one of our children.”
The chief knew that there was a stranger in the place, and the old man said: “He will be here in two days; he is coming to see who is with us. He will tell you that he is your uncle, and will challenge you to a foot race. You must ask for two days’ time for preparation.” “Very well,” said the man, and as usual he started off to hunt. His dog seemed to know where all the bears were. When he had killed as many as he wanted he went home. The old man said, “The chief has been here, and he challenges you to a foot race.”
When the time came for the race, the old man and his wife and granddaughter started for the race course. The man had said to him, “I will come as soon as I can make my preparations.” The second dog volunteered to take the man’s place in the race, but the little one said, “You stay at home and I will do the hunting”; and to the man he said, “Take off your garments and let me have them.” When the dog had put on the garments, he looked just like the man. The other dog said to the man, “We will go off hunting while he is doing the running.” The hunter and the dog were very happy, for they knew that their little brother would win the race.
When the people had assembled on the race course and the old man saw his supposed son coming, he said, “See how well our son is prepared [234]for the race.” They saw no difference whatever between the person before them and their adopted son. There were many people present, for the village seemed to be very large. Meanwhile the hunter who had accepted the challenge was off in the woods. One of the dogs said to him, “They are now ready to start. They have started.” Though far off in the woods, the dogs seemed to see everything. All at once they called out: “Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the race. Did we not tell you that he would never be outrun? Now we may as well go home.” So they started homeward. They had been at the lodge but a short time when the runner came in, and, taking off the garments of the hunter, who then put them on again, the three dogs laid down by the fire.
It is said that during the race the chief, seeing that he was outstripped, threw a horn after the dog-man, which stuck into his foot. While the dog-man was trying to pull out the horn, the chief passed him, calling, “What are you doing there? Get up!” By the time the dog-man had drawn the horn out of his foot, his enemy was near the goal. But, springing up, he threw the horn at his enemy; it stuck into the chief’s foot, causing him to fall to the ground. Then the dog-man ran ahead, calling out, “Why do you not get up? You can not sit there and beat me.” But before the chief could pull out the horn, the dog-man had passed the goal.
When the old man came home he said to his son, “I thank you for outrunning your enemy; there has never been anyone to outrun him; all have been beaten. Since the wager was heads, you can take his life whenever you wish.” Then he asked the man whether he had done his best. “No,” said he, “I used about half my strength.” “Very well,” said the old man; “he has another game to propose; he will never stop proposing trials of strength, skill, or speed until he has taken your life. To be beaten this time makes him very angry; in two days he will challenge you to play ball with him.” “All right,” replied the man, “I am ready to meet him.”
In two days they saw the chief coming, and as he entered the lodge, he said: “I am sick for a game of ball, and I challenge you to play a game against me; you won in one game, so now try another. I will wager all I have, and if you win, you shall be chief in my place.” The man replied: “I also am sick from lack of amusement and I accept your challenge. I have never met the man who could beat me in a game of ball. But give me time. You have come unexpectedly, and I must make a ball club.” “Very well,” said the chief, going away.
The bent ball club the hunter hung up to season, and the old man made strings; the next day they netted the club. They were ready just in time to go to the ball ground. The time appointed for the game was at midday, and the old man and woman said, “We shall [235]now start.” “Very well; I shall come soon,” said the adopted son. Then the little dog said, “Let it be our eldest brother who shall take part in this game.” So the man removed his garments, and the dog put them on; there he stood, looking just like the man. The little dog said, “We shall surely win the game.” The hunter and the other dogs went to the woods to hunt, while the dog-man went to the ball ground.
The chief was on the spot watching impatiently for the man. At last he saw him coming, with his long hair tied back; he carried his club well and looked splendid. The old man, supposing it was his son, said: “Now, you must use all your strength and must not be beaten.” The dog-man saw that his antagonist was walking around in the crowd, with a very proud and haughty manner. The dog-man seemed very mild and without strength enough for the game.
Seeing that it was time to begin, the people fell back and gave room to the players. When the word was given the players came forward, and the chief said: “I will take my place on this side.” “No; you shall not,” said the other; “you gave the challenge, and I will choose my place.” The chief had to yield, the dog-man choosing the side the chief wanted. They then began to play. “Now,” said the little dog to the hunter in the woods, “our brother has begun the game, which will be a very close contest.” Soon he said: “The chief’s ball has missed the goal; they play well; our brother has caught and sent the ball back. Oh! now he has won an inning. They will play one more inning.” All at once he called out: “They have begun again. It is a very close game. Our brother is having all he can do. We may be beaten, however.” Then he called out: “Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the game. You are chief, and all the old chief has is ours.”
As the dog-man had won two straight games, he caught the chief by the hair and cut his head off. Many of the people thanked him. They said that the old chief had never spared them; that when he had been the loser he had always given the people up to slaughter and saved his own life. The winner seemed to have won many friends among those who witnessed the game. The little dog said: “Now we shall go home.” They had been there but a short time when the ball player came in; giving back the man’s garments, he immediately became a dog again.
When the old people came into the lodge they thanked their son, saying: “You have done more than anyone else was ever able to do before. You are the chief now.” As they praised their son they did not know that it was a dog that had done the work.
The next morning the little dog said: “Let us go to live in the chief’s lodge.” So the hunter, with the old man and his family, [236]moved into the new lodge. All the old chief’s things had been left in their places, as they were part of the wager. Now, as the dogs were so full of orenda, he became a great chief and had much power and influence among the people.
[The narrator of the foregoing story said: “It is true that whenever a person loves a dog he derives great power from it. Dogs still know all we say, only they are not at liberty to speak. If you do not love a dog, he has power to injure you by his orenda.”]