The Indian Fairy Book | Page 6

a
distant forest, where game abounded. This wood was a day's travel
from his winter home, and under its ample shadow the wife fixed the
lodge, while the husband went out to hunt. Early in the evening he
returned with a deer, and, being weary and athirst, he asked his son,
whom he called Strong Desire, to go to the river for some water. The
son replied that it was dark, and he was afraid. His father still urged
him, saying that his mother, as well as himself, was tired, and the
distance to the water very short. But no persuasion could overcome the
young man's reluctance. He refused to go.
"Ah, my son," said the father, at last, "if you are afraid to go to the river,

you will never kill the Red Head."
The stripling was deeply vexed by this observation; it seemed to touch
him to the very quick. He mused in silence. He refused to eat, and made
no reply when spoken to. He sat by the lodge door all the night through,
looking up at the stars, and sighing like one sorely distressed.
The next day he asked his mother to dress the skin of the deer, and to
make it into moccasins for him, while he busied himself in preparing a
bow and arrows.
As soon as these were in readiness, he left the lodge one morning, at
sunrise, without saying a word to his father or mother. As he passed
along, he fired one of his arrows into the air, which fell westward. He
took that course, and coming to the spot where the arrow had fallen, he
was rejoiced to find it piercing the heart of a deer. He refreshed himself
with a meal of the venison, and the next morning he fired another arrow.
Following its course, after traveling all day he found that he had
transfixed another deer. In this manner he fired four arrows, and every
evening he discovered that he had killed a deer.
By a strange oversight, he left the arrows sticking in the carcasses, and
passed on without withdrawing them. Having in this way no arrow for
the fifth day, he was in great distress at night for the want of food.
At last he threw himself upon the earth in despair, concluding that he
might as well perish there as go further. But he had not lain long before
he heard a hollow rumbling noise, in the ground beneath him, like that
of an earthquake moving slowly along.
He sprang up, and discovered at a distance the figure of a human being,
walking with a stick. He looked attentively, and saw that the figure was
walking in a wide beaten path in a prairie, leading from a dusky lodge
to a lake, whose waters were black and turbid.
To his surprise, this lodge, which had not been in view when he cast
himself upon the ground, was now near at hand. He approached a little
nearer, and concealed himself; and in a moment he discovered that the

figure was no other than that of the terrible witch, the little old woman
who makes war. Her path to the lake was perfectly smooth and solid,
and the noise Strong Desire had heard was caused by the striking of her
walking staff upon the ground. The top of this staff was decorated with
a string of the toes and bills of birds of every kind, who, at every stroke
of the stick, fluttered and sung their various notes in concert.
She entered her lodge and laid off her mantle, which was entirely
composed of the scalps of women. Before folding it, she shook it
several times, and at every shake the scalps uttered loud shouts of
laughter, in which the old hag joined. The boy, who lingered at the door,
was greatly alarmed, but he uttered no cry.
After laying by the cloak, she came directly to him. Looking at him
steadily, she informed him that she had known him from the time he
had left his father's lodge, and had watched his movements. She told
him not to fear or despair, for she would be his protector and friend.
She invited him into her lodge, and gave him a supper. During the
repast, she questioned him as to his motives for visiting her. He related
his history, stated the manner in which he had been disgraced, and the
difficulties he labored under.
"Now tell me truly," said the little old woman who makes war, "you
were afraid to go to the water in the dark."
"I was," Strong Desire answered, promptly.
As he replied, the hag waved her staff. The birds set up a clamorous cry,
and the mantle shook violently as all the scalps burst into a