Grasshopper

HERE was once a merry young Indian who could jump so high, and who

played so many pranks, that he came to be known as Grasshopper. He was a

tall, handsome fellow, always up to mischief of one kind or another; and

though his tricks were sometimes amusing, he carried them much too far,

and so in time he came to grief.

Grasshopper owned all the things that an Indian likes most to have. In

his lodge were all sorts of pipes and weapons, ermine and other choice

furs, deer-skin shirts wrought with porcupine quills, many pairs of

beaded moccasins, and more wampum belts than one person could have

honestly come by.

The truth is, Grasshopper did not get these things by his skill and

courage as a hunter. He got them by shaking pieces of colored bone and

wood in a wooden bowl, then throwing them on the ground. That is to say,

Grasshopper was a gambler, and such a lucky gambler that he easily won

from others, with his game of Bowl and Counters, the things that they

had obtained by risking their lives in the hunt.

If people put up with his ways, and even laughed at some of his mad

pranks, it was because he could dance so well. Never had there been such

a dancer. Was there a wedding to be celebrated, or some feast following

a successful hunt--then who but Grasshopper could so well supply the

entertainment?

He could dance with a step so light that it seemed to leave no mark upon

the earth. He could dance as the Indian dances when he goes to war, or

as when he holds a festival in honor of the corn. But the dance in which

he excelled was a furious, dizzy dance, with leaps and bounds, that

fairly turned the heads of the beholders.

It was then that Grasshopper became a kind of human whirlwind. As he

spun round and round, his revolving body drew up the dry leaves and the

dust, till the dancer all but faded from view, and you saw instead what

looked like a whirling cloud.

Once, when the great Manito, named Man-a-bo-zho, took a wife and came

to live with the tribe, that he might teach them best how to live,

Grasshopper danced at the wedding. The Beggar's Dance, he called it,

and such a dance! On the shores of the Big-Sea-Water, Gitche Gumee, are

heaps of sand rising into little hills known as dunes. Had you asked

Iagoo, he would have told you that these dunes were the work of

Grasshopper, who whirled the sands together, and piled them into hills,

as he spun madly around in his dance at Man-a-bo-zho's wedding.

But though Grasshopper came to the wedding, and danced this crazy

Beggar's Dance, it seems probable that he did it more to please himself,

and to show his skill, than to honor the great Man-a-bo-zho. Grasshopper

really had no respect for anybody. When Iagoo's grandfather was in the

middle of some interesting story, and had come to the most exciting

part, Grasshopper likely as not would yawn and stretch himself, and

say in a loud whisper that he had heard it all before.

So, too, with Man-a-bo-zho. This great Manito, who was the son of the

West-Wind, Mud-je-kee-wis, had magic powers which he used for the good

of the tribe. It was he who fasted and prayed, that his people might be

given food other than the wild things of the woods; and whose prayer was

answered with the gift of the Indian corn. Then when Kah-gah-gee, King

of ravens, flew down with his band of black thieves, to tear up the seed

in the ground, it was Man-a-bo-zho who snared him, and tied him fast to

the ridge-pole of his lodge, to croak out a warning to the others.

But Man-a-bo-zho's goodness and wisdom had little effect on Grasshopper. "Pooh!" he would say. "Why should an Indian bother his

head with planting corn, when he can draw his bow and kill a good fat

deer?" Then he shook his wolfskin pouch, and rattled the pieces of

bone and wood. "As long as I have these," he said to himself, "I need

nothing more. After all, it is everybody else that works for the man who

knows how to use his head."

He walked through the village, very proud and straight, with his fan of

turkey-feathers, a swan's plume fastened in his long, black hair, and

the tails of foxes trailing from his heels. In his white deer-skin

shirt, edged with ermine, his leggings and moccasins ornamented with

beads and porcupine quills, he cut a fine figure. There was to be a

dance that night, and Grasshopper, who was a great dandy and a favorite

with all the young girls and women, had decked himself out for the

occasion. He had painted his face with streaks of blue and vermilion;

his blue-black hair, parted in the middle, and glistening with oil, hung

to his shoulders in braids plaited with sweet grass. The warriors might

call him Shau-go-daya, a coward, and make jokes at his expense, but he

did not care. Could he not beat them all when it came to playing ball or

quoits, and were not the maidens all in love with his good looks?

Meanwhile, Grasshopper wished to pass the time in some pleasant way.

Glancing through the door of a lodge, he saw a group of young men seated

on the ground, listening to one of old Iagoo's stories.

"Ha!" he cried. "Have you nothing better to do? Here's a game worth

playing."

He drew from his pouch the thirteen pieces of bone and wood, and juggled

them from one hand to the other. But no one paid any attention to him.

After all, Grasshopper had "more brains in his heels than in his head."

For once he had been too cunning; fearing his skill, no one could be

found who would play with him.

"Pooh!" muttered Grasshopper, as he turned away. "I see how it is. The

pious Man-a-bo-zho has been preaching to them again. This village is

getting to be pretty tiresome to live in. It's about time for me to

strike out, and find a place where the young men don't sit around and

talk to the squaws,"

He walked along, bent on mischief. Even the dance was forgotten; he

wondered what he could do to amuse himself. As he came to the outskirts

of the village, he passed the lodge of Man-a-bo-zho. "I would like to

play him some trick," he said, under his breath, "so he will remember me

when I am gone." But he was well aware that Man-a-bo-zho was much more

powerful than himself; so he hesitated, not knowing exactly what do to.

At last he walked softly to the doorway, and listened, but could hear

no sound of voices. "Good!" he said with a grin. "Perhaps nobody is at

home." With that, he spun around the outside of the lodge, on one leg,

raising a great cloud of dust. No one came out; but on the ridge-pole

of the lodge, the captive Kah-gah-gee, King of ravens, flapped his big

black wings, and screamed with a hoarse, rasping cry.

"Fool!" cried Grasshopper. "Noisy fool!"

With a bound; he leapt clear over the lodge, and then back again; at

which the raven screamed more harshly than ever. But within the lodge

all was silent.

Grasshopper grew bolder. Going to the doorway again, he rattled the flap

of buffalo hide. Nobody answered; so, cautiously drawing the curtain to

one side, he ventured to peer in. Then he chuckled softly. The lodge was

empty.

"This is my chance!" he exclaimed. "Man-a-bo-zho is away, and so is his

foolish wife. I'll just pay my respects before they come back, and then

I'll be off for good."

Saying this, he went in, and began to turn everything upside down. He

threw all the bowls and kettles in a corner, filled the drinking gourds with ashes from the fire, flung the rich furs

and embroidered garments this way and that, and strewed the floor with

wampum belts and arrows. When he finished, one might have thought a

crazy man had been there. No woman in the village was more neat and

orderly than the wife of Man-a-bo-zho, and Grasshopper knew this would

vex her more than anything else he could do.

"Now for Man-a-bo-zho," he grinned as he left the lodge, well pleased

with the mischief he had wrought.

"Caw, caw!" screamed the King of ravens.

"Kaw!" answered Grasshopper, mocking him. "A pretty sort of pet you are.

Does Man-a-bo-zho keep you sitting there because you are so handsome? Or

is it your beautiful voice."

With that, he made a leap to the ridge-pole, seized the raven by

the neck, and whirled it round and round till it was quite limp and

lifeless. Then he left it hanging there, as an insult to Man-a-bo-zho.

He was now in high good humor, and went his way through the forest,

whistling and singing, and turning hand-springs to amuse the squirrels.

There was a high rock, overlooking the lake, from the top of which one

could view the country for miles and miles. Grasshopper climbed it. He

could see the village plainly, so he thought he would wait there till

Man-a-bo-zho came home. That would be part of the joke.

As he sat there, many birds darted around him, flying close over his

head. Man-a-bo-zho called these fowls of the air his chickens, and he

had put them under his protection. But Grasshopper had grown reckless.

Along came a flock of mountain chickens, and he strung his bow, and

shot them as they flew, for no better reason than because they were

Man-a-bo-zho's, and not because he needed them for food. Bird after bird

fell, pierced by his arrows; when they had fallen, he would throw their

bodies down the cliff, upon the beach below.

At last Kay-oshk, the sea-gull, spied him at this cruel sport, and gave

the alarm. "Grasshopper is killing us," he called. "Fly, brothers! Fly

away, and tell our protector that Grasshopper is slaying us with his

arrows."

When Man-a-bo-zho heard the news, his eyes flashed fire, and he spoke in

a voice of thunder:

"Grasshopper must die for this! He cannot escape me. Though he fly to

the ends of the earth, I shall follow, and visit my vengeance upon him."

On his feet he bound his magic moccasins with which, at each stride,

he could step a full mile. On his hands he drew his magic mittens with

which, at one blow, he could shatter the hardest rock. Then he started

in pursuit.

Grasshopper had heard the warning call of the sea-gull, and knew it

was time to be off. He, too, could run. So fleet of foot was he that

he could shoot an arrow ahead of him, and reach the spot where it fell

before it dropped to earth. Also, he had the power to change himself

into other shapes, and it was almost impossible to kill him. If, for

example, he entered the body of a beaver, and the beaver was slain,

no sooner had its flesh grown cold than the _Fee-bi_, or spirit, of

Grasshopper would leave the dead body, and Grasshopper would become a

man again, ready for some new adventure.

But at first he trusted to his legs and to his cunning. On rushed

Man-a-bo-zho, breathing vengeance; swiftly, like a moving shadow, fled

Grasshopper. Through the forest and across the hills he fled, faster

than the hare. His pursuer was hot on the trail. Once he came upon the

forest bed where the grass was still warm and bent; but the Grasshopper,

who had rested there, was far away. Once Man-a-bo-zho, high on a

mountain, spied him in the meadow below. Grasshopper had shown himself

on purpose, and mocked the great Manito, and defied him. The truth is,

Grasshopper was just a bit conceited.

At last he grew tired of running. Not that his legs ached him or his

feet were sore. But this kind of life was not much to his liking, and

he kept his eye open for something new. Pretty soon he came to a stream

where the water was backed up by some kind of a dam, so that it flooded

the banks. Grasshopper had run about a thousand miles that day--counting

all the turns and twists. He was hot and dusty, and the pond, with

its water-lilies and rushes, looked cool and refreshing. From far, far

away came a faint sound; it was the voice of Man-a-bo-zho, shouting his

war-cry.

"Tiresome fellow!" said Grasshopper. "I could almost wish I were a

beaver, and lived down there at the bottom of the pond, where no one

would disturb me."

Then up popped the head of a beaver, who looked at him suspiciously.

"Don't be alarmed. I left my bow and arrows over there in the grass,"

explained Grasshopper. "Besides, I was just thinking I would like to be

a beaver myself. What do you say to that?"

"I shall have to consult Ahmeek, our chief," answered the friendly

animal.

Down he dived to the bottom, and pretty soon Ahmeek's head appeared

above the water, followed by the heads of twenty others.

"Let me be one of you," said Grasshopper. "You have a pleasant home down

there in the clear, cool water, and I am tired of the life I lead."

Ahmeek was pleased that such a strong, handsome young Indian should wish

to join their company.

"But I can help you," he answered, "only after you have plunged into the

pond. Do you think you can change yourself into one of us?"

"That is easy," said Grasshopper.

He waded into the water up to his waist; and behold! he had a broad flat tail. Deeper and deeper he went; as the water closed

above his head he became a beaver, with glossy, black fur, and feet

webbed like a duck's. Down he sank with the others to the bottom, which

was covered with heaps of logs and branches.

"That," explained Ahmeek, "is the food we have stored for the winter. We

eat the bark, and you will soon be as fat as any of us."

"But I want to be even fatter," said Grasshopper. "Flatter and ten times

as big."

"As you please," agreed Ahmeek. "We can help to make you just as big as

you wish."

They reached the lodge where the beavers lived, and entered the

doorway, leading into a number of large rooms. Grasshopper selected the

largest one for himself.

"Now," he said, "bring me all the food I can eat, and when I am big

enough I will be your chief."

The beavers were willing. They set to work getting quantities of the

juiciest bark for Grasshopper, who was delighted with this lazy life,

and did little more than eat or sleep. Bigger and bigger he grew, till

at last he was ten times the size of Ahmeek, and could barely manage to

move around in his lodge. He was perfectly happy.

But one day the beaver who kept watch up above, among the rushes of the

pond, came swimming to the lodge in a state of great excitement.

"The hunters are after us," he panted. "It is indeed Man-a-bo-zho

himself, with his hunters. They are breaking down our dam!"

Even as he spoke, the water in the pond sank lower and lower; the next

moment came the tramping of feet, as the hunters leapt upon the roof of

the lodge, trying to break it open.

All the beavers but Grasshopper scampered out of the lodge, and escaped

into the stream, where they hid themselves in some deep pools, or swam far down with the current. Grasshopper did

his best to follow them, but could not. The doorway was too small for

his big, fat body; when he attempted to go through it, he found himself

stuck fast.

Then the roof gave way, and the head of an Indian appeared.

"_Ty-au!_" he called. "_Tut-ty-au!_ See what's here! This must be

Me-shau-mik, the King of the beavers." Man-a-bo-zho came, and gave one

look.

"It's Grasshopper!" he cried. "I can see through his tricks. It's

Grasshopper in the skin of a beaver."

Then they fell upon him with their clubs; and eight tall Indians, having

swung his limp carcass upon poles, carried it off in triumph through the

woods.

But his _Fee-bi_, or spirit, was still in the body of the beaver, and

struggled to escape. The Indians bore him to their lodges and prepared

to make a feast. Then, when the squaws were ready to skin him, his flesh

was quite cold, and the spirit of Grasshopper left the beaver's body,

and glided swiftly away. As the shadowy shape fled across the prairie,

into the forest, the watchful Man-a-bo-zho saw it take the human form of

Grasshopper, and he started in pursuit.

Grasshopper's life among the beavers had made him lazier than ever, and

as he ran he looked around for some easier way than running. Soon he

came upon a herd of elk, a species of deer with large, spreading horns.

The elk were feeding contentedly, and looked sleek and fat.

"They lead a free and happy life," said Grasshopper as he watched them.

"Why fatigue myself with running? I'll change myself into an elk, and

join their band."

Horns sprouted from his head; in a few minutes the transformation was

complete. Still he was not satisfied.

"I am hardly big enough," he said to the leader. "My feet are much too

small, and my horns should be twice the size of yours. Is there nothing I can do to make them grow?" "Yes,"

answered the leader of the elks. "But you do it at your own risk."

He took Grasshopper into the woods, and showed him a bright red berry

that hung in clusters on some small, low bushes.

"Eat these," he said, "and nothing else, and your horns and feet will

soon be much bigger than ours. However, it would be wise if you did not

eat too many of them."

The berries were delicious. Grasshopper felt that he could not get

enough, and he ate them greedily whenever he could find them. Before

long his feet had grown so large and heavy he could hardly keep up with

the herd, while his horns had such a huge spread that he sometimes found

them rather in his way.

One cold day the herd went into the woods for shelter; pretty soon

some of the elks who had lingered behind came rushing by with snorts

of-alarm. Hunters were pursuing them.

"Run!" called out the leader to Grasshopper. "Follow us out on the

prairie, where the Indians cannot catch us." Grasshopper tried to follow

them; but his big feet weighted him down, and he ran slowly. Then, as he

plunged madly through a thicket, his spreading horns were entangled in

some low branches that held him fast. Already several arrows had whizzed

by him; another pierced his heart, and he sank to the ground.

Along came the hunters, with a whoop. "Ty-au!" they exclaimed when

they saw the enormous elk. "It is he who made the large tracks on the

prairie. Ty-au!"

As they were skinning him, Man-a-bo-zho joined the party; and at that

moment the _Fee-bi_, or spirit, of Grasshopper escaped through the mouth

of the dead elk, and passed swiftly to the open plains, like a puff of

white smoke driven before the wind. Then, as Man-a-bo-zho watched it

melt away, he saw once more the mortal shape of Grasshopper; and once more he followed after, breathing vengeance.

As Grasshopper ran on, a new thought came into his head. Above him in

the clear blue sky the birds wheeled and soared. "There is the place for

me," he said, "far up in the sky. Let me have wings, and I can laugh at

Man-a-bo-zho."

Ahead of him was a lake; approaching it, he saw a flock of wild geese

known as brant, feeding among the rushes. "Ha," said Grasshopper,

admiring them as they sailed smoothly here and there. "They will soon be

winging their way to the North. I would like to fly in their company."

He spoke to them, calling them Pish-ne-kuh, his brothers, and they

consented to receive him as one of the flock. So he floated on his back

till feathers sprouted on him, and he became a brant, with a broad

black beak, and a tail that would guide him through the air as a rudder

steers a ship.

Greedy as ever, he fed long after the others had had enough, so that

he soon grew into the biggest brant ever seen. His beak looked like the

paddles of a canoe; when he spread his wings they were as large as two

large _au-puk-wa_, or mats. The wild geese gazed at him in astonishment.

"You must fly in the lead," they said.

"No," answered Grasshopper. "I would rather fly behind." "As you

please," they told him. "But you will have to be careful. By all means

keep your head and neck straight out before you, and do not look down as

you fly, or you may meet with an accident."

It was a beautiful sight to see them flap their wings, stretch their

long necks, and rise with a "whir" from the lake, mounting the wind, and

rushing on before it. They flew with a breeze from the south, faster and

faster, till their speed was like the flight of an arrow.

One day, passing over a village, they could hear the people shouting.

The Indians were amazed at the size of the big brant, flying in the rear of the flock; yelling as loud as they could yell, their cries made Grasshopper curious. One voice especially seemed familiar to him, and he could not resist the temptation to draw in his neck and stretch it down toward the earth. As he did so, the strong wind caught his tail, and turned him over and over. In vain he tried to recover his balance; the wind whirled him round and round, as it whirls a leaf. The earth came nearer, the shouts of the Indians grew louder in his ears; at last he fell with a thud, and lay lifeless.

It was a fine feast of wild goose that had dropped so suddenly from

the skies. The hungry Indians pounced upon him, and began to pluck his

feathers. This was the very village where Grasshopper had once lived;

little had he dreamed that he would ever return to supply it with such a

dinner, a dinner at which he himself was to be the best dish.

But again his _Fee-bi_, or spirit, went forth, and fled in the form of

Grasshopper; again Man-a-bo-zho, shouting his warcry, followed after.

Grasshopper had now come to the desert places, where there were few

trees, and no signs of animal life. Man-abo-zho was gaining on him; he

must play some new trick. Coming at last to a tall pine-tree growing

in the rock, he climbed it, pulled off all the green needles, and

scattered them about, leaving the branches quite bare. Then he took to

his heels again. When Man-a-bo-zho came, the pine spoke to him, saying:

"See what Grasshopper has done. Without my foliage I am sure to die.

Great Manito, I pray you give me back my green dress."

Man-a-bo-zho, who loves and protects all trees, had pity on the pine. He

collected the scattered needles, and restored them to the branches. Then

he hastened on with such speed that he overtook Grasshopper, and put his

hand out to clutch him. But Grasshopper stepped quickly aside, and spun round and round on one leg in his whirlwind dance, till the air all

about was filled with leaves and sand. In the midst of this whirlwind

he sprang into a hollow tree, and changed himself into a snake. Then he

crept out through the roots, and not a moment too soon; for Man-a-bo-zho

smote the tree with one of his magic mittens, and crumbled it to powder.

Grasshopper changed himself back into his human form, and ran for dear

life. The only thing left for him to do was to hide. But where? In his

headlong flight he had come again to the shores of the Great Lake; and

he saw rising before him the high cliff of the Picture Rocks. If he

could but manage to reach these rocks, the Manito of the Mountain, who

lived in one of the gloomy caverns, might let him in. Sure enough! As he

reached the cliff, calling out for help, the Manito opened the door, and

told him to enter.

Hardly had the big door closed with a bang, than along came

Man-a-bo-zho. With his mitten he gave a tap on the rock that made the

splinters fly.

"Open!" he cried, in a terrible voice.,

But the Manito was brave and hospitable.

"I have sheltered you," he said to Grasshopper, "and I would rather die

myself than give you up."

Man-a-bo-zho waited, but no answer came.

"As you will," he said at last. "If the door is not opened to me by

night, I shall call upon the Thunder and the Lightning to do my

bidding."

The hours passed; darkness fell. Then from a black cloud that had

gathered over the Great Lake, Way-wass-i-mo, the red-eyed Lightning,

shot his bolts of fire. Crash--boom--crash! An-ne-mee-kee, the Thunder,

shouted hoarsely from the heavens. A wild wind arose; the trees of the

forest swayed and groaned, and the foxes hid in their holes.

Way-wass-i-mo, the Lightning, leapt from the black cloud, and darted at

the cliff. The rock trembled; the door was shivered, and fell apart. Out from his gloomy cavern came the Manito of the Mountain, asking Man-a-bo-zho for mercy. It was granted, and the Manito fled to the hills.

Grasshopper then appeared; the next moment he was buried under a mass of

rock shaken loose by An-ne-mee-kee, the Thunder. This time he had been

killed in his human form, he could play his mad pranks no more.

But Man-a-bo-zho, the merciful, remembered that Grasshopper was not

wholly bad.

"Your _Fee-bi_" he said, "must no longer remain upon the earth in any

form whatever. As a man you lived an idle, foolish life, and you are no

longer wanted here. Instead, I shall permit you to inhabit the skies."

Saying this, he took the ghost of Grasshopper, and clothed it with the

shape of the war-eagle, bidding him to be chief of all the fowls. .

But Grasshopper, the mischievous, is not forgotten by the people. In

the late winter days, snow fine as powder fills the air like a vapor. It

keeps the hunter from his traps, the fisherman from his hole in the ice.

Suddenly a puff of wind seizes this light, powdery snow, blows it

round and round, and sets it whirling along; and when this happens, the

Indians laugh and say:

"Look! There goes Grasshopper. See how well he dances."