So the friends all went in a body to the lodge of the Red Fox. The bridegroom, the bride, and the grandmother made all the resistance possible, but they were overpowered by numbers, and, the Hart having remained conveniently waiting on the outside where there was no danger, the beautiful daughter of the chief was placed upon his back, and he coursed away through the forest to carry her to his own home. When he arrived at the door of his lodge, however, he turned his head, but no bride was in the place where he expected to see her. He had thought his burden very light from the beginning, but that he supposed was natural to spirits returned from the dead. He never imagined she had at the outset glided from her seat, and in the midst of the tumult slipped back, unobserved, to her chosen husband.
One or two attempts were made by the friends, after this, to repossess themselves of the young creature, but all without success. Then they said, “Let her remain where she is. It is true the Red Fox occasioned her death, but by his watchfulness and care he caressed her into life again; therefore she rightfully belongs to him.” So the Red Fox and his beautiful bride lived long together in great peace and happiness.
There was a young man named Shee-shee-banze (the Little Duck) paddling his canoe along the shore of the lake.
Two girls came down to the edge of the water, and, seeing him, the elder said to the younger, “Let us call to him to take us a sail.”
It must be remarked that in all Indian stories where two or more sisters are the dramatis personae, the elder is invariably represented as silly, ridiculous, and disgusting—the younger, as wise and beautiful.
In the present case the younger remonstrated. “Oh, no,” said she, “let us not do such a thing. What will he think of us?”
But the other persevered, and called to him, “Ho! come and take us into your canoe.” The young man obeyed, and, approaching the shore, he took them with him into the canoe.
“Who are you?” asked the elder sister.
“I am Way-gee-mar-kin,” replied he, “the great chief.”
This Way-gee-mar-kin was something of a fairy, for when surrounded by his followers, and wishing to confer favors on them, he had a habit of coughing slightly, when there would fly forth from his mouth quantities of silver brooches, ear-bobs, and other ornaments, for which it was the custom of his people to scramble, each striving, as in more civilized life, to get more than his share.
Accordingly, the elder sister said, “If you are Way-gee-mar-kin, let us see you cough.”
Shee-shee-banze had a few of these silver ornaments which he had got by scrambling, and which he kept stowed away in the sides of his mouth in case of emergency. So he gave some spasmodic coughs and brought forth a few, which the girl eagerly seized.