Myths and Legends of the Sioux | Page 9

could cut in plenty, but he had nothing
with which to make arrowheads.
"You must make some flint arrowheads," said his grandmother. "Then
you will be able to kill game."
"Where shall I get the flint?" asked the rabbit.
"From the old bear chief," said his old grandmother. For at that time all
the flint in the world was in the bear's body.
So the rabbit set out for the village of the Bears. It was winter time and
the lodges of the bears were set under the shelter of a hill where the
cold wind would not blow on them and where they had shelter among
the trees and bushes.
He came at one end of the village to a hut where lived an old woman.

He pushed open the door and entered. Everybody who came for flint
always stopped there because it was the first lodge on the edge of the
village. Strangers were therefore not unusual in the old woman's hut,
and she welcomed the rabbit. She gave him a seat and at night he lay
with his feet to the fire.
The next morning the rabbit went to the lodge of the bear chief. They
sat together awhile and smoked. At last the bear chief spoke.
"What do you want, my grandson?"
"I have come for some flint to make arrows," answered the rabbit.
The bear chief grunted, and laid aside his pipe. Leaning back he pulled
off his robe and, sure enough, one half of his body was flesh and the
other half hard flint.
"Bring a stone hammer and give it to our guest," he bade his wife. Then
as the rabbit took the hammer he said: "Do not strike too hard."
"Grandfather, I shall be careful," said the rabbit. With a stroke he struck
off a little flake of flint from the bear's body.
"Ni-sko-ke-cha? So big?" he asked.
"Harder, grandson; strike off bigger pieces," said the bear.
The rabbit struck a little harder.
"Ni-sko-ke-cha? So big?" he asked.
The bear grew impatient. "No, no, strike off bigger pieces. I can't be
here all day. Tanka kaksa wo! Break off a big piece."
The rabbit struck again--hard! "Ni-sko-ke-cha?" he cried, as the
hammer fell. But even as he spoke the bear's body broke in two, the
flesh part fell away and only the flint part remained. Like a flash the
rabbit darted out of the hut.

There was a great outcry in the village. Openmouthed, all the bears
gave chase. But as he ran the rabbit cried: "Wa-hin-han-yo (snow, snow)
Ota-po, Ota-po--lots more, lots more," and a great storm of snow swept
down from the sky.
The rabbit, light of foot, bounded over the top of the snow. The bears
sunk in and floundered about helpless. Seeing this, the rabbit turned
back and killed them one by one with his club. That is why we now
have so few bears.

STORY OF THE LOST WIFE
A Dakota girl married a man who promised to treat her kindly, but he
did not keep his word. He was unreasonable, fault-finding, and often
beat her. Frantic with his cruelty, she ran away. The whole village
turned out to search for her, but no trace of the missing wife was to be
found.
Meanwhile, the fleeing woman had wandered about all that day and the
next night. The next day she met a man, who asked her who she was.
She did not know it, but he was not really a man, but the chief of the
wolves.
"Come with me," he said, and he led her to a large village. She was
amazed to see here many wolves--gray and black, timber wolves and
coyotes. It seemed as if all the wolves in the world were there.
The wolf chief led the young woman to a great tepee and invited her in.
He asked her what she ate for food.
"Buffalo meat," she answered.
He called two coyotes and bade them bring what the young woman
wanted. They bounded away and soon returned with the shoulder of a
fresh-killed buffalo calf.
"How do you prepare it for eating?" asked the wolf chief.

"By boiling," answered the young woman.
Again he called the two coyotes. Away they bounded and soon brought
into the tent a small bundle. In it were punk, flint and steel--stolen, it
may be, from some camp of men.
"How do you make the meat ready?" asked the wolf chief.
"I cut it into slices," answered the young woman.
The coyotes were called and in a short time fetched in a knife in its
sheath. The young woman cut up the calf's shoulder into slices and ate
it.
Thus she lived for a year, all the wolves being very kind to her. At the
end of that