How Ball-Carrier Finished His Task

How Ball-carrier Finished His Task

After Ball-Carrier had managed to drown the Bad One so that he could

not do any more mischief, he forgot the way to his grandmother’s house,

and could not find it again, though he searched everywhere. During this

time he wandered into many strange places, and had many adventures; and

one day he came to a hut where a young girl lived. He was tired and

hungry and begged her to let him in and rest, and he stayed a long

while, and the girl became his wife. One morning he saw two children

playing in front of the hut, and went out to speak to them. But as soon

as they saw him they set up cries of horror and ran away. “They are the

children of my sister who has been on a long journey,” replied his

wife, “and now that she knows you are my husband she wants to kill

you.”

“Oh, well, let her try,” replied Ball-Carrier. “It is not the first

time people have wished to do that. And here I am still, you see!”

“Be careful,” said the wife, “she is very cunning.” But at this moment

the sister-in-law came up.

“How do you do, brother-in-law? I have heard of you so often that I am

very glad to meet you. I am told that you are more powerful than any

man on earth, and as I am powerful too, let us try which is the

strongest.”

“That will be delightful,” answered he. “Suppose we begin with a short

race, and then we will go on to other things.”

“That will suit me very well,” replied the woman, who was a witch. “And

let us agree that the one who wins shall have the right to kill the

other.”

“Oh, certainly,” said Ball-Carrier; and I don’t think we shall find a

flatter course than the prairie itself—no one knows how many miles it

stretches. We will run to the end and back again.”

This being settled they both made ready for the race, and Ball-Carrier

silently begged the good spirits to help him, and not to let him fall

into the hands of this wicked witch.

“When the sun touches the trunk of that tree we will start,” said she,

as they both stood side by side. But with the first step Ball-Carrier

changed himself into a wolf and for a long way kept ahead. Then

gradually he heard her creeping up behind him, and soon she was in

front. So Ball-Carrier took the shape of a pigeon and flew rapidly past

her, but in a little while she was in front again and the end of the

prairie was in sight. “A crow can fly faster than a pigeon,” thought

he, and as a crow he managed to pass her and held his ground so long

that he fancied she was quite beaten. The witch began to be afraid of

it too, and putting out all her strength slipped past him. Next he put

on the shape of a hawk, and in this form he reached the bounds of the

prairie, he and the witch turning homewards at the moment.

Bird after bird he tried, but every time the witch gained on him and

took the lead. At length the goal was in sight, and Ball-Carrier knew

that unless he could get ahead now he would be killed before his own

door, under the eyes of his wife. His eyes had grown dim from fatigue,

his wings flapped wearily and hardly bore him along, while the witch

seemed as fresh as ever. What bird was there whose flight was swifter

than his? Would not the good spirits tell him? Ah, of course he knew;

why had he not thought of it at first and spared himself all that

fatigue? And the next instant a humming bird, dressed in green and

blue, flashed past the woman and entered the house. The witch came

panting up, furious at having lost the race which she felt certain of

winning; and Ball-Carrier, who had by this time changed back into his

own shape, struck her on the head and killed her.

For a long while Ball-Carrier was content to stay quietly at home with

his wife and children, for he was tired of adventures, and only did

enough hunting to supply the house with food. But one day he happened

to eat some poisonous berries that he had found in the forest, and grew

so ill that he felt he was going to die.

“When I am dead do not bury me in the earth,” he said, “but put me over

there, among that clump of trees.” So his wife and her three children

watched by him as long as he was alive, and after he was dead they took

him up and laid the body on a platform of stakes which they had

prepared in the grove. And as they returned weeping to the hut they

caught a glimpse of the ball rolling away down the path back to the old

grandmother. One of the sons sprang forward to stop it, for

Ball-Carrier had often told them the tale of how it had helped him to

cross the river, but it was too quick for him, and they had to content

themselves with the war club and bow and arrows, which were put

carefully away.

By-and-by some travellers came past, and the chief among them asked

leave to marry Ball-Carrier’s daughter. The mother said she must have a

little time to think over it, as her daughter was still very young; so

it was settled that the man should go away for a month with his

friends, and then come back to see if the girl was willing.

Now ever since Ball-Carrier’s death the family had been very poor, and

often could not get enough to eat. One morning the girl, who had had no

supper and no breakfast, wandered off to look for cranberries, and

though she was quite near home was astonished at noticing a large hut,

which certainly had not been there when last she had come that way. No

one was about, so she ventured to peep in, and her surprise was

increased at seeing, heaped up in one corner, a quantity of food of all

sorts, while a little robin redbreast stood perched on a beam looking

down upon her.

“It is my father, I am sure,” she cried; and the bird piped in answer.

From that day, whenever they wanted food they went to the hut, and

though the robin could not speak, he would hop on their shoulders and

let them feed him with the food they knew he liked best.

When the man came back he found the girl looking so much prettier and

fatter than when he had left her, that he insisted that they should be

married on the spot. And the mother, who did not know how to get rid of

him, gave in.

The husband spent all his time in hunting, and the family had never had

so much meat before; but the man, who had seen for himself how poor

they were, noticed with amazement that they did not seem to care about

it, or to be hungry. “They must get food from somewhere,” he thought,

and one morning, when he pretended to be going out to hunt, he hid in a

thicket to watch. Very soon they all left the house together, and

walked to the other hut, which the girl’s husband saw for the first

time, as it was hid in a hollow. He followed, and noticed that each one

went up to the redbreast, and shook him by the claw; and he then

entered boldly and shook the bird’s claw too. The whole party

afterwards sat down to dinner, after which they all returned to their

own hut.

The next day the husband declared that he was very ill, and could not

eat anything; but this was only a presence so that he might get what he

wanted. The family were all much distressed, and begged him to tell

them what food he fancied.

“Oh! I could not eat any food,” he answered every time, and at each

answer his voice grew fainter and fainter, till they thought he would

die from weakness before their eyes.

“There must be some thing you could take, if you would only say what it

is,” implored his wife.

“No, nothing, nothing; except, perhaps—but of course that is

impossible!”

“No, I am sure it is not,” replied she; “you shall have it, I

promise—only tell me what it is.”

“I think—but I could not ask you to do such a thing. Leave me alone,

and let me die quietly.”

“You shall not die,” cried the girl, who was very fond of her husband,

for he did not beat her as most girls’ husbands did. “Whatever it is, I

will manage to get it for you.”

“Well, then, I think, if I had that—redbreast, nicely roasted, I could

eat a little bit of his wing!”

The wife started back in horror at such a request; but the man turned

his face to the wall, and took no notice, as he thought it was better

to leave her to herself for a little.

Weeping and wringing her hands, the girl went down to her mother. The

brothers were very angry when they heard the story, and declared that,

if any one were to die, it certainly should not be the robin. But all

that night the man seemed getting weaker and weaker, and at last, quite

early, the wife crept out, and stealing to the hut, killed the bird,

and brought him home to her husband.

Just as she was going to cook it her two brothers came in. They cried

out in horror at the sight, and, rushing out of the hut, declared they

would never see her any more. And the poor girl, with a heavy heart,

took the body of the redbreast up to her husband.

But directly she entered the room the man told her that he felt a great

deal better, and that he would rather have a piece of bear’s flesh,

well boiled, than any bird, however tender. His wife felt very

miserable to think that their beloved redbreast had been sacrificed for

nothing, and begged him to try a little bit.

“You felt so sure that it would do you good before,” said she, “that I

can’t help thinking it would quite cure you now.” But the man only flew

into a rage, and flung the bird out of the window. Then he got up and

went out.

Now all this while the ball had been rolling, rolling, rolling to the

old grandmother’s hut on the other side of the world, and directly it

rolled into her hut she knew that her grandson must be dead. Without

wasting any time she took a fox skin and tied it round her forehead,

and fastened another round her waist, as witches always do when they

leave their own homes. When she was ready she said to the ball: “Go

back the way you came, and lead me to my grandson.” And the ball

started with the old woman following.

It was a long journey, even for a witch, but, like other things, it

ended at last; and the old woman stood before the platform of stakes,

where the body of Ball-Carrier lay.

“Wake up, my grandson, it is time to go home,” the witch said. And

Ball-Carrier stepped down oft the platform, and brought his club and

bow and arrows out of the hut, and set out, for the other side of the

world, behind the old woman.

When they reached the hut where Ball-Carrier had fasted so many years

ago, the old woman spoke for the first time since they had started on

their way.

“My grandson, did you ever manage to get that gold from the Bad One?”

“Yes, grandmother, I got it.”

“Where is it?” she asked.

“Here, in my left arm-pit,” answered he.

So she picked up a knife and scraped away all the gold which had stuck

to his skin, and which had been sticking there ever since he first

stole it. After she had finished she asked again:

“My grandson, did you manage to get that bridge from the Bad One?”

“Yes, grandmother, I got that too,” answered he.

“Where is it?” she asked, and Ball-Carrier lifted his right arm, and

pointed to his arm-pit.

“Here is the bridge, grandmother,” said he.

Then the witch did something that nobody in the world could have

guessed that she would do. First, she took the gold and said to

Ball-carrier:

“My grandson, this gold must be hidden in the earth, for if people

think they can get it when they choose, they will become lazy and

stupid. But if we take it and bury it in different parts of the world

they will have to work for it if they want it, and then will only find

a little at a time.” And as she spoke, she pulled up one of the poles

of the hut, and Ball-Carrier saw that underneath was a deep, deep hole,

which seemed to have no bottom. Down this hole she poured all the gold,

and when it was out of sight it ran about all over the world, where

people that dig hard sometimes find it. And after that was done she put

the pole back again.

Next she lifted down a spade from a high shelf, where it had grown

quite rusty, and dug a very small hole on the opposite side of the

hut—very small, but very deep.

“Give me the bridge,” said she, “for I am going to bury it here. If

anyone was to get hold of it, and find that they could cross rivers and

seas without any trouble, they would never discover how to cross them

for themselves. I am a witch, and if I had chosen I could easily have

cast my spells over the Bad One, and have made him deliver them to you

the first day you came into my hut. But then you would never have

fasted, and never have planned how to get what you wanted, and never

have known the good spirits, and would have been fat and idle to the

end of your days. And now go; in that hut, which you can just see far

away, live your father and mother, who are old people now, and need a

son to hunt for them. You have done what you were set to do, and I need

you no more.”

Then Ball-Carrier remembered his parents and went back to them.

[From Bureau of Ethnology. “Indian Folklore.“]