adventures. The chief and the counsellors pressed him to remain, but he was resolved to leave them, and so he told the chief to make his friend ruler while he himself went on his travels.
“I will come again,” said he, “sometime and see you.”
“Ho, ho, ho!” they all cried, “come back again and see us.”
He promised that he would, and set out alone.
After travelling for some time, he came to a large lake, and on looking about he saw an enormous otter on an island. He thought to himself—
“His skin will make me a fine pouch,” and, drawing near, he drove an arrow into the otter’s side. He waded into the lake, and with some difficulty dragged the carcass ashore. He took out the entrails, but even then the carcass was so heavy that it was as much as he could do to drag it up a hill overlooking the lake. As soon as he got it into the sunshine, where it was warm, he skinned the otter, and threw the carcass away, for he said to himself—
“The war-eagle will come, and then I shall have a chance to get his skin and his feathers to put on my head.”
Very soon he heard a noise in the air, but he could see nothing. At length a large eagle dropped, as if from the sky, on to the otter’s carcass. Pauppukkeewis drew his bow and sent an arrow through the bird’s body. The eagle made a dying effort and lifted the carcass up several feet, but it could not disengage its claws, and the weight soon brought the bird down again.
Then Pauppukkeewis skinned the bird, crowned his head with its feathers, and set out again on his journey.
After walking a while he came to a lake, the water of which came right up to the trees on its banks. He soon saw that the lake had been made by beavers. He took his station at a certain spot to see whether any of the beavers would show themselves. Soon he saw the head of one peeping out of the water to see who the stranger was.
“My friend,” said Pauppukkeewis, “could you not turn me into a beaver like yourself?”
“I do not know,” replied the beaver; “I will go and ask the others.”
Soon all the beavers showed their heads above the water, and looked to see if Pauppukkeewis was armed, but he had left his bow and arrows in a hollow tree a short distance off. When they were satisfied they all came near.
“Can you not, with all your united power,” said he, “turn me into a beaver? I wish to live among you.”
“Yes,” answered the chief, “lie down;” and Pauppukkeewis soon found himself changed into one of them.
“You must make me large,” said he, “larger than any of you.”
“Yes, yes,” said they; “by and by, when we get into the lodge, it shall be done.”
They all dived into the lake, and Pauppukkeewis, passing large heaps of limbs of trees and logs at the bottom, asked the use of them. The beavers answered—
“They are our winter provisions.”
When they all got into the lodge their number was about one hundred. The lodge was large and warm.
“Now we will make you large,” said they, exerting all their power. “Will that do?”
“Yes,” he answered, for he found he was ten times the size of the largest.
“You need not go out,” said they. “We will bring your food into the lodge, and you shall be our chief.”
“Very well,” answered Pauppukkeewis. He thought—
“I will stay here and grow fat at their expense,” but very soon a beaver came into the lodge out of breath, crying—
“We are attacked by Indians.”
All huddled together in great fear. The water began to lower, for the hunters had broken down the dam, and soon the beavers heard them on the roof of the lodge, breaking it in. Out jumped all the beavers and so escaped. Pauppukkeewis tried to follow them, but, alas! they had made him so large that he could not creep out at the hole. He called to them to come back, but none answered. He worried himself so much in trying to escape that he looked like a bladder. He could not change himself into a man again though he heard and understood all the hunters said. One of them put his head in at the top of the lodge.
“Ty-au!” cried he. “Tut-ty-au! Me-shau-mik! King of the beavers is in.”
Then they all got at Pauppukkeewis and battered in his skull with their clubs. After that seven or eight of them placed his body on poles and carried him home. As he went he reflected—
“What will become of me? My ghost or shadow will not die after they get me to their lodges.”
When the party arrived home, they sent out invitations to a grand feast. The women took Pauppukkeewis and laid him in the snow to skin him, but as soon as his flesh got cold, his jee-bi, or spirit, fled.
Pauppukkeewis found himself standing on a prairie, having assumed his mortal shape. After walking a short distance, he saw a herd of elks feeding. He admired the apparent ease and enjoyment of their life, and thought there could be nothing more pleasant than to have the liberty of running about, and feeding on the prairies. He asked them if they could not change him into an elk.
“Yes,” they answered, after a pause. “Get down on your hands and feet.” He did so, and soon found himself an elk.
“I want big horns and big feet,” said he. “I wish to be very large.”
“Yes, yes,” they said. “There,” exerting all their power, “are you big enough?”
“Yes,” he answered, for he saw he was very large.
They spent a good time in playing and running.
Being rather cold one day he went into a thick wood for shelter, and was followed by most of the herd. They had not been there long before some elks from behind passed them like a strong wind. All took the alarm, and off they ran, Pauppukkeewis with the rest.
“Keep out on the plains,” said they, but he found it was too late to do so, for they had already got entangled in the thick woods. He soon smelt the hunters, who were closely following his trail, for they had left all the others to follow him. He jumped furiously, and broke down young trees in his flight, but it only served to retard his progress. He soon felt an arrow in his side. He jumped over trees in his agony, but the arrows clattered thicker and thicker about him, and at last one entered his heart. He fell to the ground and heard the whoop of triumph given by the warriors. On coming up they looked at the carcass with astonishment, and, with their hands up to their mouths, exclaimed—
“Ty-au! ty-au!”
There were about sixty in the party, who had come out on a special hunt, for one of their number had, the day before, observed Pauppukkeewis’s large tracks in the sand. They skinned him, and as his flesh got cold his jee-bi took its flight, and once more he found himself in human shape.
His passion for adventure was not yet cooled. On coming to a large lake, the shore of which was sandy, he saw a large flock of brant, and, speaking to them, he asked them to turn him into a brant.
“Very well,” said they.
“But I want
