THE MAGICIAN OF LAKE HURON
The Manatoline, or Spirit, Islands
were supposed to be a favorite abode of the Manitous,
or spirits. Perhaps that is why many strange
things happened there. One night, as Masswaweinini,
the magician, was lying asleep, a sound of voices
wakened him. “This is Masswaweinini,”
said the first voice; “we must have his heart.”
“How shall we get it?” said the second
voice.
“I shall put my hand into his
mouth,” said the first, “and pull it out
that way.”
The magician felt a hand being slipped
between his teeth. He waited until the fingers
were all in his mouth, then he bit them hard and they
came off. He heard a cry, then the strangers
disappeared. In the morning he arose, but could
find no trace of any one. But when he came down
to the water’s edge, he saw a canoe with two
people in it. They were sitting at each end
of the canoe, with their arms stretched out.
When he came close to them, he saw they were fairies,
and that they had been turned to stone. One
of them had lost the fingers of one hand, so he knew
they were his enemies of the night before. The
canoe was laden with bags of all kinds of treasures,
and it was the most beautiful boat he had ever seen.
He lifted out the stone figures and put them in the
woods. As he turned away, one of the figures
spoke to him.
“Masswaweinini,” it said,
“the canoes of the Ottawa Indians will, after
this, always be well laden like our canoe. Your
tribe was driven from their land by their cruel enemies,
but they shall be rewarded for their bravery.
The Mighty Spirit will help them, and they shall be
given many treasures in their new home.”
The magician then went back to the
boat and lifted out the bags. He carried the
boat and hid it among the trees. When he opened
the bags, he found meat and fish and many other things,
and took them to his camp.
As he rested in his lodge that night,
he would have been very happy, if he had not been
so sorry for his old father and mother. He thought
of them many miles away with none of the comforts
he had. “I shall go and bring them,”
he said. He had only to think of going when at
once he could move like the wind. So before
morning he found himself at the poor, little camp
of his parents. They were still asleep, so without
making any noise, he took them in his arms and carried
them back to his lodge. When they awakened in
the morning, they were delighted to find themselves
with their son. All day long they wandered through
the fields and by the shore, and were as happy as
children. As the days and weeks went by, they
seemed to grow happier still. But one night
the magician saw his old father look in his tobacco-pouch
and then sigh.
“I know what it is you want,
my father, it is tobacco; you have not had any for
many moons. Now I shall get some.”
“How can you do that?”
asked the father, in surprise. “You are
surrounded by enemies and cut off from all supplies.”
“I shall make my enemies give
me some,” said the magician.
That night he set out on a long journey
across the frozen lake. So swiftly did he travel,
that by morning he had reached the village of his
enemies. They were surprised to see him, but
invited him into their lodges. “I thank
you,” he said, “but I shall not go into
any lodge. I shall build a fire on the shore
of the lake.”
He made himself a tent with the branches
of trees, built a fire, and sat beside it.
“Why have you come to visit us?” asked
the chief.
“I want some tobacco for my father,” replied
the magician.
“Is that all?” said the
Indian. “You shall have it;” and
he opened his tobacco-pouch and gave some tobacco
to Masswaweinini. The other Indians did the
same, so now the magician had a large supply to take
home. When it became dark, he lay down to sleep
beside his fire. In the middle of the night,
the chief and some Indians rushed in, shouting, “You
are a dead man.”
“No, I am not,” said the
magician, “but you are.” With his
tomahawk he hit left and right. In a few minutes
six lay dead beside him. Then he wrapped his
blanket around him, gathered up his tobacco, and set
off. By evening he had reached his father’s
lodge, and spread out his gift before him. The
old man was delighted with the present, and thanked
him many times for his kindness. When spring
came, the magician built a beautiful lodge for his
parents on the edge of the wrestling ground, and all
through the summer they watched the corn and pumpkins
grow.