“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 to be very large,” said he.
“Very well,” replied the brant, and he soon found himself one of them, of prodigious size, all the others looking on at him in amazement.
“You must fly as leader,” they said.
“No,” replied Pauppukkeewis, “I will fly behind.”
“Very well,” said they. “One thing we have to say to you. You must be careful in flying not to look down, for if you do something may happen to you.”
“Be it so,” said he, and soon the flock rose up in the air, for they were bound for the north. They flew very fast with Pauppukkeewis behind. One day, while going with a strong wind, and as swift as their wings would flap, while they passed over a large village, the Indians below raised a great shout, for they were amazed at the enormous size of Pauppukkeewis. They made such a noise that Pauppukkeewis forgot what had been told him about not looking down. He was flying as swift as an arrow, and as soon as he brought his neck in, and stretched it down to look at the shouters, his tail was caught by the wind, and he was blown over and over. He tried to right himself, but without success. Down he went from an immense height, turning over and over. He lost his senses, and when he recovered them he found himself jammed in a cleft in a hollow tree. To get backward or forward was impossible, and there he remained until his brant life was ended by starvation. Then his jee-bi again left the carcass, and once more he found himself in human shape.
Travelling was still his passion, and one day he came to a lodge, in which were two old men whose heads were white from age. They treated him well, and he told them he was going back to his village to see his friends and people. The old men said they would aid him, and pointed out the way they said he should go, but they were deceivers. After walking all day he came to a lodge very like the first, and looking in he found two old men with white heads. It was in fact the very same lodge, and he had been walking in a circle. The old men did not undeceive him, but pretended to be strangers, and said in a kind voice—
“We will show you the way.”
After walking the third day, and coming back to the same place, he discovered their trickery, for he had cut a notch in the door-post.
“Who are you,” said he to them, “to treat me so?” and he gave one a kick and the other a slap that killed them. Their blood flew against the rocks near their lodge, and that is the reason there are red streaks in them to this day. Then Pauppukkeewis burned their lodge.
He continued his journey, not knowing exactly which way to go. At last he came to a big lake. He ascended the highest hill to try and see the opposite shore, but he could not, so he made a canoe and took