An old man and his grandson once lived
together on an island. The little boy had no
father, nor mother, nor brothers, nor sisters.
They had all been killed by six giants, who lived
many miles away. The little boy had never seen
any person but his grandfather. They lived very
happily together. The old man loved the boy and
was kind to him. As the little fellow grew tall
and strong, the old man taught him how to hunt, so
that by the time he was a young man he was a good hunter.
One day when he was walking in the
woods, he heard a voice calling to him. He turned
in surprise, for he had never heard any one but his
grandfather speak. He could see no one, but again
he heard the voice. It was saying, “You
will some day be the wearer of the White Feather.”
He looked all around him, and then
noticed something that he had taken for a withered
tree. It was a man who was made of wood from
his breast down to his feet. He seemed to be
very old, and was fastened to the ground. When
he saw the young man was looking at him, he said, “Come
here, I wish to tell you something. There was
an old belief in your tribe that some day a boy would
grow up to be a very great warrior. He was to
wear a white feather as a sign of his bravery and great
skill. You are that boy. When you go home,
you will find there a white feather, a pipe, and a
tobacco-pouch. Put the white feather in your
hair. Then smoke the pipe, and you will find
that the smoke will turn into pigeons. This
is another sign that you will be wise and good.”
The old man ceased speaking, and the
young grandson returned home to his lodge. He
found the feather and the pipe both lying there.
He did as the old man told him, and when he smoked,
blue and white pigeons flew away from his pipe.
His grandfather saw the pigeons fly out of the lodge
door, and he felt very sad. For he knew that
his little grandson was a young man now, and would
soon be leaving him. Then he went in, and they
talked together for a long time. He told the
young man all about the six giants who had killed
his brothers and sisters, and White Feather said,
“I shall go at once in search of them and kill
them, because they were so cruel to all our tribe.”
“No, do not go yet,” said
the old grandfather. “Wait awhile until
you grow a little more and are stronger.”
The young man promised to wait for a few months.
One day he was again hunting in the
woods, when he passed near the wooden man. He
heard him speak and say:
“White Feather, listen to me.
In a few days you must go in search of the giants.
They live in a high lodge in the centre of this wood.
When you reach there, you must ask them to race with
you, one at a time. Take this vine,” handing
him at the same time a thin, green vine. “It
is enchanted, so they will not be able to see it.
When you are running, throw it over their heads and
they will trip and fall.” White Feather
thanked the old man, and took it home and showed it
to his grandfather.
A few days later he set out in search
of the giants. He had not journeyed far when
he saw their lodge. When they saw him coming,
they called out, “Oh, here comes White Feather.
Here is the little man who is going to do such brave
deeds.” But when he came closer to them,
they pretended they liked him, and told him how brave
he was. They did that to make him think they
were friends, but he did not believe them, as he knew
they were his enemies. He asked them if they
would race him, and they said, “Yes.”
“Begin with the smallest of
us,” said the biggest giant. So they began.
They had to run to a peel-tree and back again to the
starting-point. This point was marked by an iron
club, and whoever won the race was to take up the
club and kill the other one with it. When they
had nearly reached the peel-tree, White Feather threw
the vine over the youngest giant’s head.
He tripped and fell. Then White Feather ran
up and seized the club and killed the giant.
The next day he raced the second youngest, and killed
him in the same manner. Each day he did this,
until only the biggest giant was left. Now this
giant was the most dangerous of them all. He
knew that, if he ran, White Feather would kill him,
too, so he made up his mind that he would not race.
White Feather said he was going home to see his grandfather
before he ran this last race. As he was passing
through the woods, the wooden man called to him.
“Listen to me,” he said.
“That tall giant is going to play a trick on
you. When you are on your way back to his lodge,
you will meet a most beautiful maiden. Do not
listen to her, but change yourself into an elk.
Remember this and obey me.” The young
man promised to remember. He spent the day with
his grandfather, then made his way back to the giant’s
lodge. He had nearly reached it, when he saw
the beautiful maiden coming towards him. She
called to him, but he did not listen. He changed
himself into an elk, and began eating the grass.
Then she told him how mean he was to change himself
into an elk, just because she was coming. He
felt very sorry that she should think he was rude,
and he wished he were a man again. At once he
became himself, and began to talk to the maiden.
Now she was really the big giant, who had changed
himself into this form. After a while White Feather
grew tired and lay down on the grass to sleep.
When he was sound asleep, the maiden drew forth an
axe and broke his back. She then changed him
into a dog and herself back into the giant, who made
the dog follow at his heels.
On the way to the giant’s lodge,
there was an Indian village where two sisters lived.
They had heard of White Feather, and both wished that
he would choose her for his wife. They looked
out and saw the giant coming with the white feather
in his hair, for he had taken the feather and put
it in his own hair. They thought he was the brave
warrior of whom they had heard so much. The
elder sister had made her lodge look very gaudy, and
had dressed herself in all her beads and quills.
The younger sister had left her tent just as it was,
and was dressed neatly. When the giant came
along, he chose the elder sister. She would
have nothing to do with the dog, but the younger sister
felt sorry for it and let it come and live in her
lodge.
The giant used to go hunting each
day, but he never succeeded in killing very many animals.
The dog used to go out also, and he always brought
back a beaver, a bear, or some other animal for food.
This made the giant and his wife jealous. So
they made up their minds that they would tell the
chief that his younger daughter was treating a dog
with too much kindness. When they had gone, the
dog made signs to the maiden for her to sweat him
the way the Indians do. She made a lodge for
him just big enough to hold him. Then she heated
some stones until they were very hot. She put
these stones in the lodge beside him, and poured water
on them. In a minute the lodge was full of steam.
She closed the door and left him there. After
a while he came forth, a handsome, young man, but
he could not speak.
When the giant and his wife told the
chief about the dog who was such a great wonder, he
felt sure there was some magic in it. So he gathered
a band of young men, and sent them to bring the daughter
and the dog to his lodge. What was their surprise
to find a handsome, young man instead of the dog.
They all went together to the lodge of the chief,
who had gathered together all the other men of the
village, the giant among them. When the young
man entered, he made a sign to put the white feather
in his hair. The chief took it from the giant’s
head, and put it on the young man’s. At
once he was able to talk. He then told them
to smoke from his pipe. It went around the circle
until it reached him. When he began to smoke,
blue and white pigeons flew from the pipe. Then
everybody knew that he was the great warrior, White
Feather.
The chief asked him to tell them all
about himself. He did so very truthfully, and
when the chief learned how wicked and cruel the giant
had been, he ordered that he should be changed into
a dog and let loose in the village, where the boys
were to stone him to death. This order was carried
out. A few days afterwards, White Feather said
good-bye to the good old chief, and he and the kind
maiden returned to his grandfather.
They found him waiting for them in
the forest near the wooden man. The grandfather
wept for joy when he heard that the last giant was
dead. And the wooden man said, “Now my
work is ended;” and with that he changed into
a gnarled oak-tree with withered branches, which seemed
to talk as the wind whistled through them.