An uncle and his nephew dwelt together in a forest, subsisting by hunting. They lived in a lodge which had a partition through the middle and a door at each end. Neither one ever entered the part occupied by the other, all communication between them being held [286]by means of conversation carried on through the partition. Each went in and out of his own part of the lodge whenever he liked, but never dared to cross the threshold of the other’s room.

After a time the nephew, a handsome young man, discovered his uncle’s true nature—he was a man-eater, an Ongwe Ias.

One day a woman came to the nephew’s room. The next morning at dawn the uncle exclaimed, “My nephew has two ways of breathing.” The young man, speaking to himself, said: “My uncle is mistaken. I am only talking to myself.” “Oh!” said the old man, “My nephew can not deceive me. There are two in his room, and I am glad that some wild game has come to visit him.”

The old man then said that he was going out to hunt. When the uncle had gone the young man said to his wife: “My uncle knows that you are here, and now you must heed my words, or he will kill and eat you. Three other women have been here before you. He killed and devoured them all, for they disregarded my warnings. Now, before I go, I will bring water and wood and everything else you want, so you will not need to go out. I will also get a vessel for your use. If you go out you are lost; my uncle will surely kill you. As soon as I leave the lodge, he will come back, for he knows you are here.” After he left the door, the young man turned back and again warned his wife not to disobey him.

The moment the husband was out of sight in the woods the uncle came to the door. Having the power of commanding things to be done which he did not see, the uncle said, “Let it be necessary for the woman to go out.” When he saw that she did not come out he said, “Let the water with which she is cooking boil away.” The water boiled away, but as she had plenty more she did not go out. Seeing this, the uncle became terribly angry, and said, “I will get her out in one way or another.” Now the old uncle was a man-eater, and the nephew had discovered that instead of hunting beasts and birds he hunted human beings, and that every man or woman he met, he killed, and having brought home the body on his shoulders, he cooked and ate the flesh. The nephew hunted game, for the uncle had always made him find his own food.

This day, as the young man was returning, he saw smoke rising from his end of the lodge, whereupon he thought, “All is well; my uncle has not been able to kill my wife.” When he entered he thanked her for her obedience. In the evening about dusk they heard the old man come in and knew that he had brought nothing. He called out: “What luck has my nephew had to-day?” “I have had good luck,” replied the nephew. The uncle said, “I found nothing.” Now he muttered to himself about his nephew, blaming him for hiding his uncle’s game in his part of the lodge, and saying that he [287]would have his own. He heard the two breathing and could not be deceived. Determined to have something to eat, the old man pounded bones into small pieces and putting them into a large kettle which he filled with water, he made soup. The husband and wife on the other side of the partition did not talk.

The nephew decided to leave the place. As he had been thinking of doing so for some time, he had his plans well laid. Unobserved by his uncle he had walked in circles around the lodge, going farther and farther each day. When he had made paths three days’ journey in circuit he told his wife what he intended to do. That night the uncle said: “I am going to be absent two or three days. I can find no game in all this country about here.” “Well,” said the nephew, “hunters go where they can find something to kill and are often gone many days. I, too, am going farther. Game is getting scarce in our neighborhood.”

The young man, being possessed of orenda (magic power), had caused a lodge to be built in a place distant six days’ journey. He told his wife that he had an invisible brother in that lodge, to whom he would send her; that this brother was then under the lodge, and that no stranger had ever seen him. Hitherto this invisible brother had always accompanied him, but in the future would assist her. Taking an arrow from his quiver he removed the head. Then, after shaking his wife until she was only a couple of inches long, he put her into the arrow and replaced the point, saying, “In three days I will follow you.” Then sending the arrow toward the east, at the same instant he heard the calling of the Gwenhgwenhonh128 (the feathers on the arrow were taken from this bird), and all the way the arrow sang with the voice of the Gwenhgwenhonh. He could see the trail of the arrow as it went through the air.

The nephew remained in his part of the lodge, waiting, and in three days the old man appeared without game. When he came in, talking with himself, he said: “What luck has my nephew had?” “Very good. I have plenty to eat,” answered the nephew. The old man continued: “I found nothing; this hunting ground is barren, and my eyes see no more game. But though I have no fresh food, I have plenty of bones here in this pile, which I shall break up and have a soup.” Then the young man heard his uncle breaking up the bones; there was a terrible racket and crushing. At last the young man said, “My uncle makes too much noise.” “My nephew would not find fault if he were in my place. I am trying to get something to eat,” came the retort, and the old man, paying no heed to what his nephew said, kept hard at work. The next morning at daybreak he said, “I am going to hunt, and I shall be away for three days.” “I am glad,” thought the nephew; he was very angry with his uncle and ready to fight. [288]

Taking the trail he had made, the nephew followed it for three days before he made a straight line for his new lodge. Glancing up, he saw the arrow’s trail,129 which looked like a rainbow in the sky. He took a long leap, and as he leaped he ran up in the air, far over the woods and on a level which still kept him in the air. As he was going along, he looked back to see whether he could discover his own trail. The trail of the arrow, which was in the form of a rainbow, seemed to roll up and dissolve in a mist as he passed along, ending in the dooryard, where he had told his wife the arrow would strike. Entering the lodge, there he found his wife.

One day the invisible brother saw an arrow come into the dooryard; striking the ground, it burst asunder and a woman came out. She went into the lodge, where she saw her bother-in-law, who said: “I knew you were coming. I am glad you obeyed your husband, for your obedience has enabled you to accomplish this great journey.” He continued: “You have never seen me before; no one but my brother has ever seen me, and he only two or three times. I know what will come to us from the wrath of our uncle; he will pursue us and if possible will destroy you.” The husband was six days making the journey to the lodge where his brother was, which was situated near a lake.

When uncle got home and was talking to his nephew in the other room he received no answer; at this he grew very angry. Making up his mind that his nephew was not at home, he went out to look for his trail in order to learn which way he had gone. Finally, on striking the trail, he found it was some time since he had left; the footprints looked about as old as his own made three days before. Going back to the lodge he muttered: “I will follow him tomorrow; the world is so small that he can not escape me. I will follow him everywhere.” Now, the invisible brother, though a great way off, heard the uncle talking to himself, heard his threats: “My daughter-in-law will never get out of my reach. I will go to the outskirts of the world very quickly. I do not see why he takes her away, thinking she can escape; he will never succeed, for I will have her flesh.” The invisible brother told his brother what the uncle said.

The next morning the uncle set out. After following the trail until night he determined to go home, trying again the next day. Looking up, he saw his lodge was near. He had been going round and round. At this he was angry, and said, “Tomorrow I will get on the trail again.” As soon as it was daylight he started. As he went on he found the trail was almost extinct, but he continued to follow it. He kept on until midday, when he found that he had not made much progress. He was near his lodge again. “Be it so,” he said; “let my nephew be possessed of the sorcery of all the animals, I will have his wife’s flesh for all that.” The uncle followed the trail three days more [289]until at last he reached the end, whereupon he cried out exultingly, “My daughter-in-law’s flesh is mine.” Looking up in the air, he discovered his nephew’s trail. While the trail of the arrow was lost, the footprints of the nephew remained on the clouds.130

After the old man had traveled one day, the nephew said to his wife: “Now, we must go; our uncle is on our trail, and he is determined to have your life. Therefore be cautious. Do exactly as I bid you.” As the uncle followed on the ground the trail that he saw in the air, he muttered to himself. The invisible brother heard him. All started for the beach, the woman taking the lead, and the husband stepping in her footprints. As they looked across the lake they could see smoke. The husband said, “We will go yonder to that lodge and stop there for the night.” As they were going along the beach he halted, and, taking a clamshell from his bosom, threw it toward the other side of the lake. At once the banks came so close together that the woman could step over. After they had crossed, on looking back they could scarcely see the other shore. The nephew had crossed to a new lodge in order to delay his uncle, thinking that when the old man came to the water he would be long in crossing and would lose the trail. Telling his wife to say nothing, the young man left her, to hunt.

Soon the uncle appeared on the opposite bank, running back and forth searching everywhere. Feeling sure that they had crossed, he called out, “Daughter-in-law! daughter-in-law! how did you cross the lake?” As he labored up and down the woman stood watching him from the other bank. Taking pity on the weary old man, though knowing he wished to devour her, she said in her mind (she did not speak), “Why does he not throw the shell?”131 As she thought this, he heard distinctly what she said in her mind. So he stooped, and picking up a shell, threw it. The banks came together, and when she looked to see where he was, she was terrified to find him at her heels. Catching her by the hair, he said: “I knew that I should eat you.132 My nephew had no right to keep the game from me. He took my game and held it as his wife.” With one blow the old man cut her head off. She had been left alone, as her husband was hunting, and the invisible brother was not near to warn her, so she was lost.

The lake had now expanded to its proper width. Taking off her raiment, the old man threw it into his nephew’s lodge, saying, “Be you a helpmate to my nephew.” He then cut the body open, finding that it contained twins. He hid the children with the head and breast of the mother in a hollow tree, and gave thanks that his nephew had preserved the game so long, for he would have a second [290]meal at another time. After washing the bloodstains from the body in the lake he put the body on his back and then threw the shell. When the banks closed together, he stepped over, and as he looked back, he saw the lake spread out again.

On coming home soon after, the nephew expected to see smoke rising from his lodge, but saw none. “There! my word has come true; she has forgotten my warning.” Looking around, he saw his uncle’s tracks, whereupon he said, “Such is my luck. I can not help it.” Then he began to cook his meal. Shortly he discovered his wife’s clothing. Having become accustomed to his uncle’s behavior, he was not much astonished, nor did he feel very badly because his uncle had now killed his fourth wife. While cooking supper he had to go for water. As he stooped down to get it, he heard a voice say, “Your uncle has killed me. Your uncle has killed me, has killed me.” On looking toward the willows out of which the voice came, he saw them bespattered with his wife’s blood, whereupon he knew that she had been murdered. He had two proofs now—his uncle’s tracks and the speaking blood. Becoming disheartened, he decided never to go back to his uncle’s lodge. He continued hunting with two dogs, and being successful, took pleasure in doing this. On returning to camp one day he discovered tracks around his fire—two little trails. For some time he paid no attention to these, though he found them whenever he came home. They looked like children’s tracks, but he could not believe they were such, thinking that perhaps some little animal had gotten into the lodge. At last, looking at his store of meat, he saw that one of the pieces was gone from the row; he thought some animal must have taken it. Things continued in this way until finally the meat was carried away at such a rate that he resolved to find out what was going on at home. The next day still more meat was taken. He found that the stolen piece had struck the ground, and having been dragged out of doors, had been drawn along. He followed the trail until he came to a big hollow log, at the opening in which the trail disappeared. While sure that some animal lived in the tree, he made no further discovery.

The next day the nephew started off to hunt, but after going a short distance into the woods, he stopped to watch his lodge. Looking down from a hill near by, he saw two little children run into the lodge. Thereupon, hurrying back, he continued his watch. He soon saw them come out, dragging a piece of meat. (They used to go to where the meat was hanging, and climbing up as best they could, throw it to the ground.) They had all they could drag, for two pieces were tied together. Going straight to the farther end of the log, they disappeared, dragging the meat after them. He thought, “Tomorrow I will catch them.” He had learned that they could [291]talk, for as they pulled the meat along, he heard one say, “Hurry up; father will soon come.”

The next morning, after going a short distance, he hid himself and waited. The time seemed long. At last the children came from the log, and entering the lodge, closed the door. Then the father ran up and went in himself, fastening the door after him. The moment the children saw him, they began to cry. “Why do you cry,” he asked, “I am your father. Do not cry.” At this they stopped crying. Then he said, “You will stay here with me.” As he had overheard them calling him father, he asked, “How do you know that I am your father?” As he questioned them, sitting by the fire, he on one side and the two children together on the other, one of them, who was slightly larger than the other, said: “Your uncle came over here and killed our mother, cutting off her head and her breasts. Then he threw her intestines into a hollow log. We were among the intestines, and as the breasts were there, we drew milk from them and so were able to live. Her head is there with us now. As the boy answered readily, the father asked him what they did with the meat they took from the lodge. “We come,” said the boy, “to get the meat to feed our mother.” The father said, “You must now live with me.” He then made little ball clubs and a ball for them to play with in the dooryard; he was so kind that they were willing to stay.

Whenever their father went hunting they would go and feed their mother. Once when the father came home, one of the boys said to him, “Our mother is very hungry, for we have not fed her today.” The father replied: “Feed her; give her all she will take. I have no objection. As you know, we always have plenty of meat, so you may take as much as you please to feed your mother.” He was very kind to the children, because he loved them, and to keep them from running away, he let them do as they liked with what was in the lodge. He soon discovered, however, that his stock of meat was disappearing very fast, faster than he could bring in more. This continued until he began to feel discouraged and frightened. The boy said to his father when the latter returned one day, “My mother eats all the time,” telling how much she ate, and asked his father to go and see her. The father went to the tree with the boys, and on looking in, saw two great eyes in a skull from which the teeth were projecting and the flesh had disappeared, and the bones of which were somewhat bruised.

The boys asked, “Now, father, what do you think?” “I am afraid,” he answered, “that after she has eaten all our meat she will eat us.”

“Let us go to some other part of the world, so she will have to travel far to overtake us,” said one of the boys; “we can not feed [292]her any longer, for she never gets enough now, and we are tired.” The man saw that, do what they might, she would not be satisfied. The boys said, “We will go away first if you like.” The father answered: “You may go. Your mother has become a man-eater. You may escape.” The next morning the boys started westward with the dogs. The father said he would not go just then, but that he would follow. He had to go in another direction and therefore would go southward first. When the children were a short distance from the lodge the dogs looked at them, and thinking how hard it was for them to trudge along, the larger dog said to the larger boy, “Come! get on my back;” and the smaller dog said to the smaller boy, “Come! get on my back.” Both mounting the dogs, away they went. The dogs ran so swiftly that the hair of the boys’ heads streamed backward, and they enjoyed the ride so much that the woods were full of their laughter. After they had gone a long distance, for the dogs went like the wind, they saw traces of human beings. There were places where the trees had been cut down. The dogs said, “Now you would better slip off and go on foot to the settlement.” The boys were unwilling to go, but the dogs were determined, and shaking themselves, as if they had just been in water, the children tumbled off. Telling the children again to go on to the settlement, the dogs went back to their master. He had told them that he would leave in two days, for then the Head would come out of the tree and go into the lodge; then climbing up to the place where the meat was kept, the Head would eat it all.

The boys had told their father that by going southward he would find uncles who might help him escape, for they were just such powerful men as his old uncle was. When the dogs got back to their master they said that he must make every effort he could to escape; that they would remain until the last piece of meat was gone, but that he must go at once. The lives of all were in danger, for when the meat was all eaten the Head would fly in the direction of her people, although they (the dogs) would stay and detain the Head as long as possible. “In three days all the meat will be devoured: flee for your life; go south toward your other uncles, for she will follow you,” the dogs said.

The man did as the dogs advised, starting off southward and going with great speed, for he was a good runner. Two days after he had left home one of the dogs overtook him and said: “The meat is all gone and she is now trying to find the trail of her children. She can follow it as far as they walked, but no farther, for we took them on our backs at a certain distance from the lodge and carried them far away. They are now in the west. Be on your guard. She will soon strike your trail and pursue you. Follow me! The Head is [293]very angry.” As the dog looked back he said: “The Head has started and is coming. We have never seen so great witchcraft as she has, although we have seen much, but this we are not able to comprehend. As you have always said, there is no one living who can outrun you; now use all your strength.”

When the Head started, the dogs left behind did all they could to delay her, biting her whenever she turned to pursue them, and dodging into the ground. As the Head went on again they would spring at her; and when she turned on them they would again escape into the ground. Her track could be seen plainly, for the bark was all bitten from the trees, where the dogs kept her back and prevented her from flying ahead.

All at once, one of the little boys, far off in the west, said to his brother, “Our father is to be pitied; our mother has turned into some strange being and is pursuing him.” Soon a second dog came up to the man, saying, “Your wife has changed into a Flying Head and is possessed of such power that we do not know how to detain her any longer. My brother dog and I are doing all we can, but you must hurry; you must keep straight ahead. Go always toward the south.” The man ran with all his might. Seeing a lodge at a distance he ran up to it, and entering, said to an old man sitting there: “Uncle, help me! Something is after me that is going to take my life. Help me!” “All right. Although I do not know what it is, I will help you all I can; but hurry on to the next lodge; there you will find your aunts,” replied the old man. The man had got about halfway between the two lodges when he heard a terrible noise. Looking back, he saw that the Flying Head had reached his uncle’s lodge, and that they were fighting with all their strength. There was a terrible struggle about the lodge. Soon he saw that his uncle was killed, and that a great black cloud rose up into the sky from the spot.133 The uncle had told his nephew that after the Head had killed him a dark cloud would go up to the very heavens. At that moment the dog came up again, saying, “Your uncle is killed; he was never beaten before in his life.” When she had killed his uncle the Head rushed after the husband, for she had eaten every bit of the uncle’s flesh in a moment. “Hurry!” said the dog; “we are sure to die; we have but two places of refuge left, it is through your uncle who killed her that she has become a witch.”

As the man ran on, nearly exhausted, he saw a lodge, and running into it, he called to his aunts, “Help me! Help me! Something is after me to take my life.” “Poor man,” said his aunts, “hurry on; we will do what we can to delay the Head. Go to the next lodge, where your mothers live; if we can not detain her, perhaps they will be able to help you.” He was not out of sight when he heard his aunts call to their children to have courage, and then he heard a [294]great tumult. When the Head flew into the lodge, it bit at everything with which it came in contact, tearing it to pieces. The women attacked the Head with clubs, and there came to his ears the sound of the blows of the clubs on the skull. When halfway to the other place, all was still at his aunts’ lodge.

Suddenly he heard his brother calling out, “Run! or we are lost.” The invisible brother who urged him forward pushed him by the neck whenever he was near, and then they seemed to run faster. They were in a great hurry to reach the lodge, and he pushed him on until they were there. Thereupon the man called on his mothers, saying, “Mothers, help me! help me!” “Oh, poor son! you are in trouble; go on—we will do what we can.” He hurried through the lodge. The Head came in as he went out, and the dog, running around the lodge, urged him on. The brother was invisible when they passed through the lodge. The mothers called out to all their children, “Kill the Head if you can!” All got their most deadly and potent weapons, and the two brothers heard the old mothers urge their children to fight with all their strength. The dogs remained outside the door, ready to fly at the Head when she came out. One of the women stumbled and fell, whereupon the Head, after catching and hurling her out, devoured her in an instant.

The old mothers now cautioned their children again to take great care and make no missteps. Now the youngest one thought of some bear’s fat they had in the lodge, and the idea came to her that the only way they could kill the Head was by use of this. After the Head had eaten the first girl and was chasing the others through the lodge the bear’s oil began to boil.134 As they threw the boiling oil, it singed and burned the Head, killing it (the animated Head was merely the skull with long projecting teeth).

All wishing to give thanks, the mothers said: “We ought to have a game of ball. Your brother is free. It is our duty to give thanks. The ball shall be this Head.” Picking up the Head, she carried it out, calling in a loud voice, “Here, warriors! is a ball you can have to play with.” Soon a great crowd of people came together with their netted clubs and began to play. All the players were wild beasts of the woods. The man stood near and saw the wild beasts playing ball with his wife’s head. All tried to get the ball, and in this way they wore it out.

The dog now came up to his master and told him that his wife was dead; and when it said “Your wife is dead,” his strength seemed to leave him; his arms dropped down, and he was sad. The invisible brother said: “You feel grieved; for my part I am glad. I do not see why you should be sad; she would have devoured you if they had not killed her. Now there is nothing to harm us. Your [295]old uncle has gone back to his own home and will not trouble us now that he has eaten your wife’s flesh.” He added: “Your children are living in this direction (pointing westward); be of good courage, and go after them. I shall return. You will continue in one direction with your dogs until you reach the boys. You need never fear to suffer such hardships again.” So saying, he went home, and when the brother looked after him he had disappeared.

The man and his dogs went toward the west. The dogs had left the children in a place near a village where an old woman lived with her granddaughter. While the young girl was in the woods gathering fuel she heard the sound of voices. On listening, as the wind came directly to her, she discovered that they were human voices, and thought, “I will ask grandmother what to do.” When she reached home with her wood she told the old woman that she had heard children crying and asked her to go to the woods to hear for herself. The old woman asked: “In what direction were the voices? It is a pleasure to know that there are children yet alive; they must be for us.” They went to the place. “Now listen!” said the girl. “True,” said the grandmother. “Look everywhere and find these children; they may be sent to us, as we are alone.” The girl followed the sound, which she could hear distinctly as coming from the ground. She kept on until she found the two children, seemingly a year old, one slightly larger than the other. Going up to them she told them to stop crying; that she would be their mother. As she stood there talking her grandmother came, who pitied the children; she found that they were clothed with skins. The grandmother said: “Now stop crying. You shall be our children. I will be your grandmother and my granddaughter will be your mother.” The girl added: “All we have shall be yours. I will love you as a mother.” The boys stopped crying. Each had his little bow and arrows and ball club. The children went home with the women. The old woman said: “We will take care of these children. There are many people in the village, but not a child among them all. I lived here a long time, but have never seen a little child.” The children soon seemed larger and sometimes would go to hunt birds. They were never gone long at a time, and never went out of sight of the lodge. “Grandmother,” called one of the boys one day, “come and see what we have killed; it is all spotted and lies yonder in the weeds.” “Where is it? Where is it?” she asked. The boys led the way, but she could hardly keep in sight of them, as the weeds were tall. On reaching the spot she found a fawn, a few hours old, which they had killed. She carried it home, saying to herself: “I am thankful to have these children; they will be great hunters in time; their game is getting larger. First they kill birds, now a fawn.” [296]When they did not feel like hunting they would play out near the lodge and then go in and sit down.

One day one of the boys said, “Our father is coming.” The other said, “I hardly think our father is alive.” The old grandmother overhearing this, told the boys to go out and shoot birds, for she wanted some to roast and eat. The next day while the children were out a man came into the lodge. The invisible brother had told him where he would find his children, and that he must say when he came to the old woman’s lodge, “Grandmother, I am thankful to see you,” and to the girl, “Sister, I am very glad to see you.” As he went in he saw the old woman and saluted her as grandmother; to the girl he said, “Sister.” One of the boys outside said, “Our father has come.” The other replied: “I do not believe this is he, for our father had two dogs. There are no dogs with this man.” As the boy was bound to know, raising the doorflap slightly, he saw his father sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Noticing a red spot on his jaw, the boy said further: “Look for yourself; see, he has a mark on his face; it is really he. Let us go and see which way he came; we can tell his trail, and we will follow it and see whether we can find the dogs.”

They had gone but a short distance when they found that the dogs had gone in another direction, whereupon one of the boys said: “Let us follow their tracks; father loves those dogs; let us find them.” In the evening they found one dog sitting on a fallen tree. The larger boy said: “There sits one of the dogs.” “Let us go and see if it is really father’s dog,” said the other. On hearing the children’s voices the dogs were as much pleased to see them as the boys were to see the dogs. The boys now said, “Let us all go home.” The boys did not know the way, however, so the dogs took the lead. It was late at night and very dark, and the people at home were frightened and very anxious about the children, not knowing where to look for them. When the boys came back, the grandmother asked: “Why were you gone so long? Why did you frighten us so?” “We were looking for our father’s dogs,” said they. Thereupon they went into the lodge, the dogs following. The man was lying down, so all went to sleep. All were now together again.

The young woman was the man’s own sister and the grandmother was his grandmother. They all lived very happily together. And this is the story.