Shin-ge-bis Fools the North Wind

ONG, long ago, in the time when only a few people lived upon the earth,

there dwelt in the North a tribe of fishermen. Now, the best fish were

to be found in the summer season, far up in the frozen places where no

one could live in the winter at all. For the King of this Land of Ice

was a fierce old man called Ka-bib-on-okka by the Indians--meaning in our

language, the North Wind.

Though the Land of Ice stretched across the top of the world for

thousands and thousands of miles, Ka-bib-on-okka was not satisfied. If

he could have had his way there would have been no grass or green trees

anywhere; all the world would have been white from one year's end to

another, all the rivers frozen tight, and all the country covered with

snow and ice. .

Luckily there was a limit to his power. Strong and fierce as he was, he

was no match at all for Sha-won-dasee, the South Wind, whose home was

in the pleasant land of the sun-flower. Where Sha-won-dasee dwelt it was

always summer. When he breathed upon the land, violets appeared in the

woods, the wild rose bloomed on the yellow prairie, and the cooing dove

called musically to his mate. It was he who caused the melons to grow,

and the purple grapes; it was he whose warm breath ripened the corn in

the fields, clothed the forests in green, and made the earth all glad

and beautiful. Then, as the summer days grew shorter in the North,

Sha-won-dasee would climb to the top of a hill, fill his great pipe, and

sit there--dreaming and smoking. Hour after hour he sat and smoked; and the smoke, rising in the form of a vapor, filled the air with a soft haze until the hills and lakes seemed like the hills and lakes of dreamland. Not a breath of wind, not a cloud in the sky; a great peace and stillness over all. Nowhere else in the world was there anything so wonderful. It was Indian Summer.

Now it was that the fishermen who set their nets in the North worked

hard and fast, knowing the time was at hand when the South Wind would

fall asleep, and fierce old Ka-bib-on-okka would swoop down upon them

and drive them away. Sure enough! One morning a thin film of ice covered

the water where they set their nets; a heavy frost sparkled in the sun

on the bark roof of their huts.

That was sufficient warning. The ice grew thicker, the snow fell in

big, feathery flakes. Coyote, the prairie wolf, trotted by in his shaggy

white winter coat. Already they could hear a muttering and a moaning in

the distance.

"Ka-bib-on-okka is coming!" cried the fishermen. "Ka-bib-on-okka will

soon be here. It is time for us to go."

But Shin-ge-bis, the diver, only laughed.

Shin-ge-bis was always laughing. He laughed when he caught a big fish,

and he laughed when he caught none at all. Nothing could dampen his

spirits.

"The fishing is still good," he said to his comrades. "I can cut a hole

in the ice, and fish with a line instead of a net. What do _I_ care for

old Ka-bib-on-okka?"

They looked at him with amazement. It was true that Shin-ge-bis had

certain magic powers, and could change himself into a duck. They had

seen him do it; and that is why he came to be called the "diver." But

how would this enable him to brave the anger of the terrible North Wind?

"You had better come with us," they said. "Ka-bib-onokka is much

stronger than you. The biggest trees of the forest bend before his

wrath. The swiftest river that runs freezes at his touch. Unless you can turn yourself into a bear, or a

fish, you will have no chance at all."

But Shin-ge-bis only laughed the louder.

"My fur coat lent me by Brother Beaver and my mittens borrowed from

Cousin Muskrat will protect me in the daytime," he said, "and inside

my wigwam is a pile of big logs. Let Ka-bib-on-okka come in by my fire

if he dares."

So the fishermen took their leave rather sadly; for the laughing

Shin-ge-bis was a favorite with them, and, the truth is, they never

expected to see him again.

When they were gone, Shin-ge-bis set about his work in his own way.

First of all he made sure that he had plenty of dry bark and twigs and

pine-needles, to make the fire blaze up when he returned to his wigwam

in the evening. The snow by this time was pretty deep, but it froze

so hard on top that the sun did not melt it, and he could walk on the

surface without sinking in at all. As for fish, he well knew how to

catch them through the holes he made in the ice; and at night he would

go tramping home, trailing a long string of them behind him, and singing

a song he had made up himself:

"Ka-bib-on-okka, ancient man,

Come and scare me if you can.

Big and blustery though you be,

You are mortal just like me!"

It was thus that Ka-bib-on-okka found him, plodding along late one

afternoon across the snow.

"Whoo, whoo!" cried the North Wind. "What impudent, two-legged creature

is this who dares to linger here long after the wild goose and the heron

have winged their way to the south? We shall see who is master in the

Land of Ice. This very night I will force my way into his wigwam, put

his fire out, and scatter the-ashes all around. Whoo, whoo!"

Night came; Shin-ge-bis sat in his wigwam by the blazing fire. And such

a fire! Each backlog was so big it would last for a moon. That was the

way the Indians, who had no clocks or watches, counted time; instead of

weeks or months, they would say "a moon"--the length of time from one

new moon to another.

Shin-ge-bis had been cooking a fish, a fine, fresh fish caught that

very day. Broiled over the coals, it was a tender and savory dish; and

Shin-ge-bis smacked his lips, and rubbed his hands with pleasure. He had

tramped many miles that day; so it was a pleasant thing to sit there by

the roaring fire and toast his shins. How foolish, he thought, his

comrades had been to leave a place where fish was so plentiful, so early

in the winter.

"They think that Ka-bib-on-okka is a kind of magician," he was saying to

himself, "and that no one can resist him. It's my own opinion that he's

a man, just like myself. It's true that I can't stand the cold as he

does; but then, neither can he stand the heat as I do."

This thought amused him so that he began to laugh and sing:

"Ka-bib-on-okka, frosty man,

Try to freeze me if you can.

Though you blow until you tire,

I am safe beside my fire!"

He was in such a high good humor that he scarcely noticed a sudden

uproar that began without. The snow came thick and fast; as it fell it

was caught up again like so much powder and blown against the wigwam,

where it lay in huge drifts. But instead of making it colder inside, it

was really like a thick blanket that kept the air out.

Ka-bib-on-okka soon discovered his mistake, and it made him furious.

Down the smoke-vent he shouted; and his voice was so wild and terrible that it might have frightened an ordinary man.

But Shin-ge-bis only laughed. It was so quiet in that great, silent

country that he rather enjoyed a little noise.

"Ho, ho!" he shouted back. "How are you, Ka-bib-onokka? If you are not

careful you will burst your cheeks."

Then the wigwam shook with the force of the blast, and the curtain of

buffalo hide that formed the doorway flapped and rattled, and rattled

and flapped.

"Come on in, Ka-bib-on-okka!" called Shin-ge-bis merrily. "Come on in

and warm yourself. It must be bitter cold outside."

At these jeering words, Ka-bib-on-okka hurled himself against the

curtain, breaking one of the buckskin thongs; and made his way inside.

Oh, what an icy breath!--so icy that it filled the hot wigwam like a

fog.

Shin-ge-bis pretended not to notice. Still singing, he rose to his feet,

and threw on another log. It was a fat log of pine, and it burned so

hard and gave out so much heat that he had to sit a little distance

away. From the corner of his eye he watched Ka-bib-on-okka; and what

he saw made him laugh again. The perspiration was pouring from his

forehead; the snow and icicles in his flowing hair quickly disappeared.

Just as a snowman made by children melts in the warm sun of March, so

the fierce old North Wind began to thaw! There could be no doubt of

it; Ka-bib-on-okka, the terrible, was melting! His nose and ears became

smaller, his body began to shrink. If he remained where he was much

longer, the King of the Land of Ice would be nothing better than a

puddle.

"Come on up to the fire," said Shin-ge-bis cruelly. "You must be chilled

to the bone. Come up closer, and warm your hands and feet."

But the North Wind had fled, even faster than he came, through the

doorway.

Once outside, the cold air revived him, and all his anger returned.

As he had not been able to freeze Shin-ge-bis, he spent his rage on

everything in his path. Under his tread the snow took on a crust;

the brittle branches of the trees snapped as he blew and snorted; the

prowling fox hurried to his hole; and the wandering coyote sought the

first shelter at hand.

Once more he made his way to the wigwam of Shin-ge-bis, and shouted down

the flue. "Come out," he called. "Come out, if you dare, and wrestle

with me here in the snow. We'll soon see who's master then!"

Shin-ge-bis thought it over. "The fire must have weakened him," he

said to himself. "And my own body is warm. I believe I can overpower

him. Then he will not annoy me any more, and I can stay here as long as

I please."

Out of the wigwam he rushed, and Ka-bib-on-okka came to meet him. Then

a great struggle took place. Over and over on the hard snow they rolled,

locked in one another's arms.

All night long they wrestled; and the foxes crept out of their holes,

sitting at a safe distance in a circle, watching the wrestlers. The

effort he put forth kept the blood warm in the body of Shin-ge-bis. He

could feel the North Wind growing weaker and weaker; his icy breath was

no longer a blast, but only a feeble sigh.

At last, as the sun rose in the east, the wrestlers stood apart,

panting. Ka-bib-on-okka was conquered. With a despairing wail, he turned

and sped away. Far, far to the North he sped, even to the land of the

White Rabbit; and as he went, the laughter of Shin-ge-bis rang out and

followed him. Cheerfulness and courage can overcome even the North Wind.