Chapter 4 of 6 · 3982 words · ~20 min read

Part 4

“You are not using your voice as it was meant that you should, my son,” said the Chipmunk’s grandfather. “All the creatures in feathers and fur in the forest speak for a reason. The Ground Hog whistles to call his young, and the Frog croaks when wild beasts creep toward the lodges, and the Robin sings of rain. But you, my son, chatter for no reason except your foolish pride. Beware! the Great Chief will hear you and catch you some day if you do not stop!”

The Chipmunk thought that night of what his grandfather had said. But when morning came, he forgot all about it and took his noisy way through the woods again. He made just as much noise as he could, even after he had reached a hickory-nut tree, and climbed up among the branches.

Suddenly, though, he was still. He heard the leaves on the ground rustle and the twigs crackle with heavy footsteps. Peering down between the branches, the Chipmunk saw the Great Chief of whom his grandfather had warned him. He looked as tall as a young tree and as dark as a thunder cloud. He carried a long bow and a quiver of arrows. He had come for the Chipmunk, and he waited under the tree, looking up among the branches to see when he should come down.

But the leaves on the branches hid the Chipmunk. He gathered a handful of nuts and tossed them down. The Great Chief was thrown off his guard by the trick. He jumped, thinking it was the Chipmunk, but the little fellow scampered down the other side of the tree. He got home to his lodge in safety.

The next day the Chipmunk was even more noisy than ever as he started out. He reached a tree, climbed up in it, and again the Great Chief came with his bow and arrows to kill the chattering little pest. But the Chipmunk gathered a handful of twigs which he threw down at the feet of the Great Chief.

“Here I come,” the Chipmunk chattered. As the Great Chief watched to see him follow the twigs he dropped down on the other side of the tree and once more reached home safe.

When the Chipmunk started out the third morning he had a great piece of news to tell the whole world. He told it just as loudly as he could.

“The Great Chief can’t catch me. He can’t catch me,” boasted the Chipmunk.

He kept on chattering this after he had scampered up a tree, and a very bold plan entered his head.

The Great Chief came at last. He strode angrily until he came to the tree where the Chipmunk sat looking down at him.

“Come down! Come down from this tree!” called the Great Chief in a loud voice.

That was just what the Chipmunk planned to do. He was going to come down and dare the Great Chief to catch him. He felt that he would be safe in doing this. So the Chipmunk came down and stood a second, chattering to the Great Chief, who was so surprised that he did not move at first.

Then the Chipmunk ran and the Great Chief ran after him. It was a race for life, the Chipmunk soon found out, for the Great Chief gained at every step. The Chipmunk leaped and jumped, and panted for breath. On, and on they went, in and out among the trees. The Chipmunk lost his loud voice in fear and no other member of the family has had such a loud one since that day. He could see his lodge with his grandfather waiting for him in the door, but it did not seem possible that he could reach it.

Oh, there he was at the door; but just as he went inside the Great Chief took hold of the Chipmunk with his strong fingers. Although the Chipmunk pulled himself loose, he had a row of long white stripes on his back where the Great Chief had clutched him.

And every other Chipmunk, since then, has had white stripes on his back, because of the first Chipmunk who chattered too much.

HOW THE SQUIRREL GOT WINGS.

Once upon a time the Indians tell us that the Manito was the good spirit of the woods. He taught every wild creature, bird, beast, or fish its own special work. It was then that the Beaver learned how to be a mason, and the Oriole to be a weaver. The Mole learned how to dig long, secret tunnels although he was blind. The Spider was taught to spin and the Bee to make honey.

Then, too, the Manito made the Squirrel the little harvester of the woods, gathering nuts in the fall and digging holes in the earth in which to bury them for the winter. It was planned that the Squirrel should be an example to man of the wisdom of working while others feasted. He gathered food for the days when the wind would howl and the snow drift about his lodge. So the Squirrel spent his days looking for nuts and laying them away for cold weather. With him went his friend, the Woodchuck.

In those days, the Woodchuck ate nuts, and as his legs were short and his feet flat he could not climb trees. His feet were shaped like shovels. He used them for digging himself a little house in the side of a hill where he planned to sleep through the winter until spring should come. But he was very fond of nuts. His friend, the Squirrel, was good enough to take him about the woods and show him the places where nuts were scattered on the ground. The Squirrel gave him half of all the nuts there were. The Woodchuck cracked these with his sharp teeth and ate them all.

The Manito was apt to walk through the forest at night to see if everything was safe. He wished, too, to see if his little wild children had done their work during the day. One evening in the late fall the Manito went through the forest in the form of a night wind. He looked in the door of the Woodchuck’s house in the side of the hill. It was empty!

Taking his way through the trees the Manito saw a little creature in a gray fur blanket creeping softly along from one spot to another. He had short legs, and feet shaped like shovels. It was the Woodchuck. As he came to a place for which he had been looking, the Woodchuck would dig deep down in the earth with his paws. He would bring up a store of nuts and carry them back to his hole in the side of the hill.

“This is not as it should be,” the Manito thought. “I did not plan that my son, the Woodchuck, should harvest at night. Nor did I decree that he should gather nuts.”

Then it came to the mind of the Manito what the Woodchuck was up to!

The next night the Manito had a council fire in the woods and bade all the wild creatures to come to it. He, himself, dressed in fine blankets and feathers like an Indian Chief, sat on a rock before the fire. All his sons, the Squirrel, the Beaver, the Wolf, the Deer, the Otter, the Fox, and the rest, sat in a circle around the fire. There was one vacant place, though. The Woodchuck had not yet come.

At the time for the council to open, the Manito stood up and spoke.

“We are gathered here as a court of law,” he said. “I have learned that my thrifty son, the Squirrel, has been the victim of a thief. He has been busy and saving, as I have taught him to be. He has done his harvesting for the winter. But while he slept a friend robbed him of his nuts. What shall we do to such a false friend?”

“Drown him!” said the Beaver.

“Starve him!” said the Otter.

“Eat him!” barked the Fox and the Wolf.

“Who is he?” asked the gentle Deer.

Just then the Woodchuck tried to slip into his place in the circle without being seen. He had a nut in his mouth so that every one knew at once that he was the thief. He was the false friend of the thrifty Squirrel! The animals rose in a body and would have torn the Woodchuck to pieces at once, or thrown him into the fire. But the Manito raised his hand to quiet them. Then he called the Woodchuck and the Squirrel to come to his side.

“I gave you a place to harvest, in the corn field,” the Manito said to the Woodchuck. “And I gave you a friend who was good enough to share his nuts with you because you are so fond of them. You have disobeyed me, and stolen from your friend. As a punishment I will take out your sharp teeth so that you can never crack a nutshell again. You shall have grinding teeth, for eating only corn.”

Then the Manito asked the Squirrel to come closer to him, and he fitted a pair of wings to his back. “These wings are a reward for your industry,” he said, “and to help you gather another harvest in place of that which the Woodchuck stole from you.”

From the night of that council fire to the present time the Woodchuck has eaten only grains and vegetables. And there have been flying squirrels because of the first Woodchuck who stole from his friend.

HOW THEY BROUGHT HAIRLOCK HOME.

Once upon a time, at the foot of a hill, there lived little Boots and his mother and their nanny goat, who was named Hairlock. Now Hairlock loved to run away over the hill to the mountain, and she could never be found when milking time came at night.

One day Boots was ready with his pail and his milking stool, and he called, “Hairlock, Hairlock, come home to Boots,” but Hairlock did not come.

Then Boots’s mother climbed to the top of the hill, and she looked, and she looked, and there she spied Hairlock on the top of a crag, a long way off.

“Naughty Hairlock,” she cried, “come home to Boots. Boots, run to Reynard, the fox, and tell him to bite Hairlock.”

So Boots ran to Reynard, the fox, and he said:

“Good Reynard, bite my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands on the top of yonder crag, and will not come home to be milked.”

But Reynard said, “Not I, Boots; I’ll not dull my teeth on old Hairlock’s skin, for I hunt to-night. Another time, Boots, another time.”

And Boots went back and told his mother what Reynard had said.

“Then go to Greylegs, the wolf, Boots,” said his mother, “and tell him to bark at naughty Hairlock.”

So Boots ran to Greylegs the wolf, and he said:

“Good Greylegs, bark at my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands on the top of yonder crag, and will not come home to be milked.”

But Greylegs said, “Some other time, Boots, some other time. The night is cold. I must stay at home and sleep and cover my cubs.”

And Boots went back and told his mother what Greylegs had said.

“Then go to Bruin, the bear,” said his mother, “and bid him chase naughty Hairlock.”

So Boots ran to Bruin, the bear, and he said:

“Good Bruin, chase my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands on the top of yonder crag, and will not come home to be milked.”

But Bruin said, “Ah, Boots, I am much too fat to chase Hairlock. Go to the fir tree and ask him to trap Hairlock.”

So Boots ran to the fir tree, and he said:

“Good Fir Tree, trap my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands on the top of yonder crag, and will not come home to be milked.”

But the fir tree only bent and swayed in the wind, and said, “Ask the woodcutter to fell me, Boots.”

So Boots ran to the woodcutter, and he said:

“Good Woodcutter, fell the fir tree, that he may trap my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands at the top of yonder crag, and will not come home to be milked.”

But the woodcutter said, “Ask the joiner if he will buy my wood, Boots.”

So Boots went to the joiner, and he said:

“Good Joiner, will you buy wood from the woodcutter, that he may fell the fir tree? Then the fir tree will trap my nanny goat, Hairlock, who stands at the top of yonder crag and will not come home to be milked.”

“That I will, Boots,” said the joiner.

Then the woodcutter felled the fir tree and gave the wood to the joiner. The joiner took the wood and made a strong yoke, which he gave to Boots.

Then Boots and his mother ran to the top of the crag and put the yoke on Hairlock.

And that is how they brought Hairlock home.

THE BEAR WHO LOST HIS SUPPER.

Once upon a time old Mother Red Cap was out walking in the forest and she came to a wild cherry tree, the branches of which hung low with cherries. She climbed up the tree to pick her apron full of cherries when along came Bruin, the Bear, walking under the tree. He looked up among the branches and there he saw old Mother Red Cap.

“Come down, Mother,” he growled, “that I may eat you.” Old Mother Red Cap did not want to be eaten by Bruin, the Bear, so she thought, and thought, and then she said:

“You do not want to eat an old woman like me. I will throw you down my shoe and you may gnaw upon that until I can come down to the ground and lead you to my house. I have two little kids there who will make you a savory meal. Have patience, Bruin, until I can climb down.”

This was what old Mother Red Cap said, and she threw down her shoe. Bruin gnawed and gnawed upon the shoe, but he found it very dry eating, so he grew angry. He called up the tree to old Mother Red Cap:

“Come down, Mother, that I may eat you.”

“Just wait a little longer, Bruin, until I have gathered a few more cherries,” said she, and she threw down her other shoe. “Gnaw on this,” she said, “and I will climb down in a few minutes and show you the way to my house.”

Bruin gnawed upon the second shoe but he found it no better than the first. But he contented himself with the thought of the two little kids that he would soon be eating, and he waited beneath the tree until old Mother Red Cap climbed down.

Down she came, with her apron full of cherries; home she went, and Bruin tramped along behind her. When they reached her house, old Mother Red Cap took Bruin, the Bear, out to the barn and showed him the two little kids. He was in a great hurry to get his paws around them, but, “Wait,” said Old Mother Red Cap. “First I must give the two little kids a fine supper that they may be fatter. Go back to the forest for the night and return in the morning. Then the two little kids will be fat enough for you to eat.”

So Bruin, the Bear, went back to the forest for the night. Old Mother Red Cap gave the two little kids a fine, large supper and then she locked the door of the barn and went to bed. Very early in the morning she went out to the barn and unlocked the door and let out the two fat little kids. They scampered off to pasture and were soon so far away that neither hide nor hoof of them could be seen. Then old Mother Red Cap locked the door of the barn again.

Almost as soon as the sun was up, Bruin, the Bear, tramped back from the forest, growling:

“Open the barn door, Mother, that I may eat the two little kids.”

Mother Red Cap stooped down to peep through the key hole of the barn door. Then she shook her head sadly.

“What a pity it is,” sighed old Mother Red Cap, “that the two little kids are gone. Can it be that my two mischievous little grandchildren, Janko and Mirko, unlocked the door and let the kids out?”

At that Bruin, the Bear, was very angry. “Then I must eat your two little grandchildren, Janko and Mirko,” he growled.

This frightened old Mother Red Cap greatly. She thought and thought, and then she said: “My two little grandchildren, Janko and Mirko, are very thin indeed. I must give them three fine meals or they will not be fat enough for you to eat. In the meantime, do you run about through the forest to get yourself a better appetite.”

So Bruin, the Bear, went away and ran about in the woods all the rest of the day. When it was evening he came back with a fine appetite and rapped at the door of old Mother Red Cap’s house.

“Send out Janko and Mirko,” he growled, “and see what short work I will make of them.”

“Oho, I’ll not do that,” laughed old Mother Red Cap from inside the house. “You are too late, Bruin. Janko has just bolted the door so fast that you will not be able to open it and I have put Mirko to bed, where he is fast asleep. You must go back to the forest and come some other day.”

So Bruin, the Bear, saw that old Mother Red Cap had got the best of him and he went back to the forest, hungry, to look for his supper there.

THE RABBIT WHO WAS AFRAID.

Once upon a time, a very long way from here, a little wild Rabbit sat under a tall palm tree. All about him were other tall palm trees and larger animals than he, and the wild rabbit thought and thought. And after the Rabbit had thought a while he said to himself, “What if the earth should crack and swallow me up.”

Just then the wind blew a cocoanut down from a tree and it fell upon the ground right beside the little wild Rabbit. Up he jumped in great fear for now he was sure that what he had dreaded was happening.

“The earth is cracking,” said the Rabbit, and off he hopped as fast as he could, never stopping to try and find out what it was that had made the noise.

As he ran he met his Mother and she said to him, “Why do you run so fast?”

“The earth is cracking,” said the Rabbit, “and I run that I may not be swallowed up by it.”

On ran the Rabbit, and his Mother ran with him.

As they ran, they met his Father and he said to the Rabbit, “Why do you run so fast?”