Squaw

they do some annoying things.

I don't do anything to do with the Cherokee, the Squaw, the Choctaw-

[laughs]

...

Hardly had he thought so when in the darkness Gull stepped on a thorn.

Squaw, my foot, cried Gull.

A thorn? asked Raven.

Let me see it.

Then Talepus traveled on, feeling his way along the trail.

Soon, he met a squaw.

Squaw began to jeer, ho ho, you seem to be very blind.

Oh no, said Talepus, I am measuring the ground.

It was a noble tribe, renowned for its beautiful young maidens, its fearless braves, and especially for its great war sachem, the giant manso.

but the heart-breaking mourning of the death dirge had many times wailed through the camp for the manichezets had a foe far more terrible than any fierce enemy tribe twice each year since the beginning of time once in the moon of bright nights and again in the moon of falling leaves the great devil bird from over the southern sea spread wide his smothering wings and swept down on the tribe capturing in his terrible talons the little papooses and even some of the youngest braves who had just learned the art of the tomahawk with a laughing shriek he bore them away to his secret lair in the region of the south wind where no man had ever ventured they were never seen again on the eve of a triumphant victory over the nausets great warsackham man's hope returned leading his braves in the ritual chant dance of victory but the battle cry was mingled with the wail of the death dirge floating up towards the braves from the camp and echoing sorrowfully through the stillness of the summer evening the giant man's hope found his faithful squaw with face gashed and breast torn the ashes heaped on her head mingling with tears of anguish for the great devil bird had carried away her first-born a strong young brave of just sixteen summers the devil bird had carried him off to the unknown place before the sun had dropped from the edge of the world a fierce cry filled with all the venom and hate and sorrow of many moons and many deaths tore from the throat of manzo his people trembled with fear and pride as they watched him stand there his face aglow with the call of battle his eyes savage with hate and revenge for they knew that their great leader would leave for the unknown place stalking the great devil bird his huge war tomahawk in his hand mansoop strode away without a word from the camp the wails of the sorrowing squaws and the war streaks of the braves echoing in his ears the war drums beat their relentless rhythm of death for the devil bird with giant strides that took him across the breadth of the cape manso plunged thigh-deep through the deepest streams pushed trees aside in forests he had no time to skirt and came at length to the low treacherous swamp lands that lay at the edge of the southern sea the last barrier to the unknown place in the misty half-light man's hope saw far in the distance the great devil bird its human prey in its talons winging its way swiftly towards its lair many wondered but none knew what lay in the unknown place across the southern sea for no man had dared cross the churning waters to that island lair of the devil bird but the saxon's eyes saw the turbulent waters not as danger but as a bloody challenge the giant man's hope called out to the great spirit to give him the strength and cunning to follow the devil bird to its hiding-place and slay him there then he strode boldly forth into the deep treacherous waters guided only by the stars he came at length to the strange and feared unknown place now martha's vineyard from the western end of the island he saw majestically sheer cliffs which rose straight from the sea at the narrowest end of the land he saw something which made his heart sink and his blood run cold in his veins for there was a giant oak its twisted exposed roots strewn with the white bleached bones of indian children captured by the devil bird for countless years the giant man's hope crept noiselessly towards the death tree under the enveloping shadows of its great branches he looked up and saw the dim silhouette of the devil bird sleeping in the uttermost branches its head was beneath its wing its beak dripping blood and its belly was distended with gluttonous human feasting man's hope glanced at the stone tomahawk in his hand and saw it gleam in the half-light he fastened it to his belt and then swung himself soundlessly up through the branches towards the sleeping devil bird at last he reached his goal at the top of the death tree so close to the bird that the night breeze ruffled its feathers across manhope's cheek there he paused gazing down at the bird hate in his eyes his heart beating wildly with the excitement of near victory and revenge he raised his weapon high over his head and brought it down with a crushing thud on the neck of the devil bird the great evil one fell to earth never to rise again panting with excitement and triumph man's hope waited until he was sure the devil bird was dead before he left the hated death tree and its sorrowful remains but his triumph had a bitter taste and his heart was heavy for although he had vanquished the great evil one his soul cried out in anguish for his beloved son lost in sorrowful meditation man's hope rested for a while at the northern end of the island before returning to his camp on the mainland he drew forth his pipe but the tobacco was dampened by the waters through which he had plunged and would not burn so he gathered some poke-weed and loading his pipe sat quietly smoking as he smoked the rings and swirls from his pipe billowed and rose through the early morning air it floated across the southern sea over the cape moors and the lodges of the indian camp where his sorrowing squaw awaited his return great was the rejoicing in the indian lodges when man's hope's people saw this smoke for they knew that their great sachem would never linger to smoke his pipe while an enemy he was stalking was still alive the great devil bird no longer ravaged and killed and the indians lived without fear once more and when the sweet summer air drifted in from the woods the mist lay low on the swamp lands and the fog bank from the sound curled in over the mainland just as the smoke from giant mansoap's pipe did on that morning indian mothers drew their children closer to the fire and while the enveloping mists and fogs crept slowly in they told them the legend of the great devil birds saying here comes old mansoap's smoke the peddler's coffin the winter nights are long on cape cod when the lonely winds howled round the house and the naked branches tap-tapped against the window-pane friends and neighbors gathered in the big warm kitchen of the old niggerson farmhouse down rock harbor road in orleans for an evening of story-telling and popcorn or apple roasting jonathan snow twelve years old full of imagination and very impressionable loved these story evenings jonathan would curl up in his favorite niche between the fireplace and the window and there munching on apples would listen pop-eyed to the spooky stories here he was close enough to the bright friendly fireplace to feel secure but also close enough to the dark eye of the window and the wild windy night to feel a delicious tingle of fear run up and down his spine one bleak and howling february night when the stories had been especially hair-raising a lull in the conversation and a few yawns proclaimed that it was time for all to depart for their respective homes jonathan knew he should leave but he felt chained to the fireside he couldn't stay was too proud to voice his fears and yet shuddered at the thought of leaving this warm kitchen for the dark and lonely walk home but boys pride won jonathan buttoned up his greatcoat pulled his wool cap down over his ears and bidding the nickersons a brave but reluctant good night set off for home it was not far from the nickerson to the snow home but the night was a wild one a night of wind and floating mist when familiar daylight objects assumed fantastic shapes and the road was filled with shadowy forms jonathan held himself in admirable check for about a hundred yards he strolled along whistling casually but when he glanced back and could see no more the winking lights of the nickerson house he was casual no longer and tore at breakneck speed down the road rounding the turn that meant the half-way mark to home in the place where the road was flanked on one side by a high stone wall and on the other by a creek which ran parallel to it jonathan stood stock still blood turning to slow ice in his veins for there not four yards before him gleaming in the flickering pool of moonlight that filtered through the scudding clouds was a coffin three thoughts scampered through the terrified jonathan's mind he could jump the stone wall splash through the creek or leap over the coffin and make a dash for home and safety and jump he did now a twelve-year-old cape cod boy can jump like a grasshopper but jonathan did not jump high enough just as he thought he had cleared the coffin and indeed his feet were running before they touched the ground his ankle was clutched by a bony hand and he was pulled right into the terrible coffin reflex action and young strength bounded together simultaneously using all his energy jonathan pushed out with his hands and heels and leaped from the coffin like fat from a hot skillet scared near out of his wits jonathan broke an all-time speed record to home there he babbled out his story to puzzled parents who as hardy cape codders scoffed at the idea of a coffin but decided to go and investigate anyway so jonathan armed with mother and father returned to the fateful spot only to find that the coffin was a two-bushel market basket which had rolled from a peddler's cart and which in the dark night jonathan's aroused imagination had turned into an occupied coffin the resident of the coffin which jonathan believed had clutched his ankle was only the high basket handle which he did not clear in his leap for life the whale that went to new york it all started when a seventy-ton whale washed ashore at wellfleet now seventy tons of whale is no easy thing to deal with and the costs of towing the whale back out to sea were more than the town fathers felt the thin town treasury purse could afford many suggestions were offered but two enterprising old sea captains hit on a plan to raise enough money for the project with perhaps money left over to add to the town funds why not charge admission to see the whale this seemed like an excellent scheme but the board of health had something to say about having a dead whale on the docks that squelched the plan before it got into motion but the old seamen undaunted still thought it was a good plan yankee ingenuity reached an all-time high when the captains decided to find out for themselves just how many people would pay fifty cents for the dubious privilege of seeing a seventy ton dead whale they decided to tow the monster to new york paying all towing charges which were by no means slight themselves their fellow townsmen scoffed at the idea but the two captains answered that the whole project would undoubtedly reap a goodly financial harvest and that the town could whistle for a part of the expected profits but sad to relate the get-rich-quick scheme backfired for the two down capers found that the new york board of health was no more eager to have a month's dead whale reposing in smelly grandeur on their docks than were the well fleet officials and so the two captains poorer but wiser and by this time sick and tired of the whole business dug deep into their pockets once more and made suitable arrangements for the disposal of the whale when they returned home and were met with a cross-fire of questions they had not a thing to say the snake biting indian tall straight and dark-browed joseph nownot was a familiar figure as he made his way throughout the cape bible tucked under his arm wherever his wandering feet brought him he stopped to preach for christianity for he was a converted indian pious rum hating joseph was a self-made man both educationally and religiously and was well known as a religiously and at times fanatically sincere man so well known for this in fact that he soon came to be called the deacon When the deacon was not evangelizing, converting, or leading future converts in prayer, he could be found in all seasons strolling leisurely through the woods and along the beaches one bright fall day when the deacon was walking through the truro hills he came to his favorite place of meditation a rocky cave-like shelter which was close to the ocean bluffs there he sat for some time quietly smoking and thinking when his thoughts were arrested by a strange and ominous hissing the deacon was trapped for there directly before the mouth of the cave was a huge circle of deadly black snakes the deacon was unarmed and the snakes he knew would close in on him faster than light at his slightest movement he sat frozen with horror the minutes dragged by the deacon never took his eyes off the snakes and they in turn were like frozen black ribbons heads slightly raised as they stared at him with eyes he could not see the small gusts of occasional sea-breeze were cold against the deacon's skin for he was drenched with the sweat of fear the snakes crawled slowly towards him with one of the black lines a little ahead of the others when the reptiles reached his feet they stopped once more he could hear their soft hissing and feel the weight of the lead snake across his foot they moved again like a soft clinging wave slithering and undulating towards him sluggishly and relentlessly they moved up his immobile form until they had twined their dank bodies all round him they clung to him like tenacious pieces of damp wool the deacon could see their wicked slit eyes bright and expressionless but deadly he could hear their hissing breaths and feel their hungry bodies in a horrid caress still he did not move a hair a muscle he seemed not to breathe the leader snake was wound round his neck and was looking his head raised right at the deacon darting its flat head in and out at the indian's face on one of these thrusts when the snake's head came within an inch of his mouth the deacon opened wide his great jaws and at the moment when the snake thrust its head inquiringly inside the deacon clamped shut his huge teeth and bit the snake's head off this so frightened the rest of the snakes that they hurtled themselves from the deacon's body and fled some of the black reptiles were stunned from their fall and the deacon master of the field quickly killed them with a huge stone the dead snakes he skinned and brought their dried hides home as evidence of the terrible encounter johnny blunt's courtship after the sleigh ride last winter and the slippery tricks served by pattie dean nobody would suspect johnny blunts hankering after women again in a hurry to hear him rave and take on and rail out against the whole feminine gender you would have taken it for granted that he would never look at one again to all eternity johnny did take an oath and swore if he ever meddled or had any dealings with women again in the sparking line he meant he might be hung or choked but swearing off women and then going into a meeting-house chock-full of gals all shining and glistening in their sunday clothes and clean faces is like swearing off liquor and going into a grog-shop it's all smoke johnny held out pretty well for three whole sundays but on the fourth there were strong symptoms of a change a chap looking very much like johnny was seen on his way to the meeting-house with a new patent hat on his head hung by the ears upon a shirt collar his cravat had a pudding in it and branched out in front into a double bow knot he carried a straight back and stiff neck as a man ought to when he has his best clothes on and every time he spit he sprung his body forward like a jack-in-the-box in order to shoot clear of the ruffles squire jones's pew was next but two to johnny's and when johnny stood up he naturally looked straight at sallie jones now sallie had a face not to be grinned at in a fog she was easy to look at and johnny succumbed squire jones had got his evening fire on and set himself to read the great bible when he heard a rap at his door walk in well john how to do get out pompey pretty well i thank you squire and how do you do why so far as to be crawling you ugly beast will you hold your up haul up a chair and sit down john how you do mrs jones oh middlin how's your marm don't forget the mat there mr blunt this put johnny in mind that he had been off soundings several times in the long muddy lane and that his boots were in a sweet pickle it was now old captain jones's turn the grandfather being roused from a doze by the bustle and rattle he opened both his eyes at first with wonder and astonishment at last he began to halloo so loud that you could hear him a mile for he took it for granted that everybody is just as exactly deaf as he is who is it i say who in the world is it mrs jones going close to his ear screamed out it's johnny blount oh johnny blount i remember he was one summer at the siege of boston no no father bless your heart that was his grandfather that's been dead and gone this twenty years oh but where does he come from down down oh and what does he foller for a living and he did not stop asking questions after this sort till all the particulars of the blunt family were published and proclaimed by mrs jones's screech then he sunk back into his doze again the dog stretched himself before one andiron the cat squat down before the other silence came on by degrees like a calm snowstorm till nothing was heard but a cricket under the hearth keeping time with a sappy yellow birch forestick sallie sat up prim as if she were pinned to the chair-back her hands crossed genteelly upon her lap and her eyes looking straight into the fire for johnny's part he sat looking very much like a fool the more he tried to say something the more his tongue stuck fast he put his right leg over his left and said then he changed and put the left over the right it was no use the silence kept coming thicker and thicker drops of sweat began to crawl all over him he got his eye upon his hat hanging on a peg by the door and then he eyed the door at this moment the old captain all at once sang out johnny blount it sounded like a clap of thunder and johnny started right up on end draw me blind you'll never handle such a drumstick as your father did if you lived to the age of methuselah he would toss up drumsticks and while it was wheeling in the air turn twice around and then catch it coming down without losing a stroke in the tune what do you think of that eh but scull your chair round close beside me so you can hear now what have you come arter i an arter o joat takin a walk a pleasant walkin i guess i mean just to see how you-all do oho that's another lie you've come to courtin johnny blunt an your arter arsel say now do you want to marry or only to court this was a choker poor sallie made but one jump and landed in the middle of the kitchen and then she skulked in the dark corner till the old man after laughing himself breathless was put to bed then came apples and cider and the ice being broken plenty of chat with mammy jones about the minister and the sarman at last mrs jones lighted t'other candle and after charging sallie to look well to the fire she led the way to bed and the squire gathered up his shoes and stockings and followed sallie and johnny were left sitting a good yard apart for fear of getting tongue-tied again johnny sat right in with a steady stream of talk he told her all the particulars about the weather that was past and also made some pretty cute guesses at what it was like to be in the future johnny gave a gentle hitch to his chair until finally he planted himself fast by sallie's side i swore sallie you looked so plaguey handsome to-day that i wanted to eat you up oh pshaw i'll get along with you said she johnny's hand had crept along somehow upon its fingers and began to scrape acquaintance with hers she sent it home with a desperate jerk try it again no better luck why miss jones you're getting strapless a little old maidish i guess hands off is fair play mr johnny finally managed not only to get hold of sallie's hand but managed to slip his arm round her waist but not satisfied with this he began to go poking out his lips for a kiss but he rued it for sallie fetched him a slap in the face that made him see stars and set his ears to ringing like a brass kettle for a quarter of an hour oh sally give me a kiss i had done with it now i won't so there nor a tact to i'll take it whether or no do it if you dare how a bus will crack of a still frosty night mrs jones was about half-way between sleep and awake there goes my yeast bottle says she to herself burst into twenty hundred pieces and my bread is all dough again the upshot of the matter is that johnny fell in love with sallie jones head over ears every sunday night rain or shine finds him rappin at squire jones's door and twenty times has he been within a hair's breadth of poppin the question but now johnny has made a final resolve if he lives till next sunday night and doesn't get choked in the trial sallie jones will hear thunder the trusting maiden marjorie smith of shakampore was thrilled and impressed when john atwood a respected widower asked her to be his second wife nevertheless being slightly younger than widower atwood marjorie demurred for quite some time before consenting to be his wife before she finally said yes the widower carried on an extensive courtship and it was said that his promise of building a new house for his bride finally convinced her in his favor the trusting maiden waited until the knot had been tied before raising the question of the promised new house only to be met with john's reply of oh that was just courtin talk margie but although he shattered love's young dream in that respect he did build a small addition on to the old house margy spent the rest of her life in that hot ell of a kitchen and never became mistress of a new house part four of tall tales of cape cod by marlis bittinger shipwrecked on yellowed tissue thin paper bound in leather and entitled simply journal was found an entry which matches all the adventure stories of shipwrecked men ever told its authenticity can only be judged by the excerpt which follows herein the reader if there be any will find the story of my most harrowing experience at sea it is only by the grace of god almighty that i am alive this day to record it thus i was twenty years old when i shipped out from boston on a journey to the east indies she was a good ship my fellow crew members were capable congenial men many of whom i had sailed with in the past our captain had earned our respect even in the few short days we had been acquainted with him all hands and officers were convinced that clear sailing and a profitable journey lay before all i cannot record here in a vivid enough manner my impressions during the first three weeks of our sailing the weather was fair and mild good winds had prevailed constantly the life aboard ship was especially pleasant there was no need for any such feeling as i had found myself indulging in for several days but it nevertheless prevailed perhaps all i can coherently say is that i had a vague unrest a mind plaguing thought constantly with me like the shadow of some dark cloud over my being this feeling brought with it the still subconscious impression of disaster and imminent death which i could not try as i would shake off i said nothing to my mates about this feeling they would perhaps have scoffed at me if not my revealing of such an impression would only serve to disturb the uncommonly smooth-running life of our close existence on the lonely seas it was on a calm uneventful afternoon while all hands were engaged in dilatory activities of repair and small duties that this feeling reached its highest peak i felt a strange compulsion to plunge into immediate intense activity for my fears were mounting by the minute and in my youthful mind i felt vaguely ashamed i had just left my post by the starboard boat where i had been engaged in lashing down some canvassing when i glanced up to see the lookout in the crow's nest peering intently out to sea i knew somehow that my fear was about to materialize and verily a moment later the call came from the nest ship on far port horizon ho she bears the jolly roger the action over our entire ship was so instant in contrast to the almost sluggish movements of the minute before that it was as if a painting had suddenly sprung into life each of its immobile figures leaping into definite motion we clapped on every sail but the pirate ship was on us before we could get up enough sail to escape they sent a shot straight through our rigging the happenings of the next hour remain in my mind only as a confused jumble of shouts clashing swords and hand-to-hand combat the pirate crew were a determined and bloodthirsty lot not content to merely take over our monetary possessions they outnumbered us and overpowered us deliberately destroying and ravaging everything upon which they could lay their hands they seemed at last content with what damage they had wrought the burly pirate captain ordered us to abandon our ship which he and his men then set afire before the fire had reached the hold what few of our number were left managed to reach some supplies and with these few essentials we rowed away i will never forget the frustrated agony in my soul as i watched our valiant ship strewn with the bodies of our gallant captain and mates burn to a charred skeleton and sink slowly beneath the waters there were two life-boats lost and tiny as peapods on a pond drifting in lone aimlessness on the sea there were eight of us including myself in one boat and five in the other we saw the other boat which we could not reach because of the waves drift farther and farther away at last after it had been hidden from our sight by a monstrous wave we saw it again capsized we tried valiantly to reach those who were floundering in the sea it was hopeless one by one they sank beneath the surface lost forever in the smothering embrace of the sea for a day and a night the fierce winds and huge waves crashed against our small craft and i cannot explain to-day why we did not meet the same fate as had our unfortunate comrades in the other boat upon the second day the rolling sea was changed to a flat mill-pond surface and the sun was unbearably hot we had managed to bring with us only four bottles of water enough to last but a few days we did not live we merely existed i felt the gnawing piercing pangs of thirst and hunger congest and constrict my being within fourteen days four of our number had died of thirst and there were three men besides myself left starving my hands when i reached up to touch my burned bearded face were trembling like a man beset with palsy my eyes i knew were like my comrades empty vacant hopeless i was conscious only of a searing ache over my entirety and my mind was skipping and sliding over disjointed thoughts we looked at each other and still did not see we were conscious only of hunger and heat and thirst when we spoke it was as if in a dream jackson had managed to hook a small fish but had not the strength to pull it into the boat i believe we realized the helplessness of our plight and began at that moment of realization to get crazed it was not long before we began to talk of drawing lots to see which of us should be killed to provide food for the others the thought is horrible and distasteful now as i sit with my belly full of good warm food but then the thought meant only one thing the lessening of the most terrible of pains hunger we resisted this impulse as long as humanly possible but at last the time came when we must destroy one of our number or fall upon each other like crazed wolves we cast lots and it fell upon me to be the victim i prepared to die so that the others might live i cannot give my reader any searing recollection of faith or impression that come to a man about to die for i had none i knew only that my breast was bared and that one of my mates with arm raised was about to plunge his knife into my vitals i believed that i wanted to die but the shining knife did not come sweeping down for at that moment we heard a gunshot in the distance and looking in the direction from which the sound came saw a white sail on the horizon the ship had seen our distress signal my own shirt which hung from a propped-up oar and had fired a shot to let us know we had been seen death under such horrible circumstances breathes hotly down on few men i lived to see the pirate captain who had been the cause of our agony hanged from his own yardom in the harbour of calcutta the enchanted mouse in the early days of eastham when the men-folk were concerned with the business of the sea there lived a captain jed knowles and his young lovely and devoted bride the captain was a fine figure of a man mrs knowles for all her beauty and sweet womanliness was strange indeed for they said that she had strange supernatural powers mrs knowles was devoted to her sailing husband and as did many of old-time cape wives sailed with him on several of his voyages when love was young and absence unbearable captain knowles liked to have his wife along with him but the objections of the crew who according to the best sea superstition believed that a woman aboard was bad luck soon added to his misgivings about taking her along besides time was not kind to the temper of mrs knowles and she soon became not a pleasure to have along but rather a bother the captain soon decided that such companion voyages must cease for several voyages now captain knowles under great opposition and argument from his good wife had succeeded in sailing without her on one occasion however when the captain was to leave for an extensive voyage his wife once more requested that she be allowed to accompany him the answer was a firm negative and much to the captain's surprise and delight mrs knowles did not demur and offered no argument to his decision and this quick change about fooled the unsuspecting seaman for he underestimated the power of a woman especially the strange power of his own wife on the day of departure mrs knowles bade her husband a fond good-bye at the door of their home the captain went down to the docks weighed anchor and was on his way he did not know however that a tiny mouse had followed him aboard close at his heels three days out at sea the captain got a report from the cook that cheese and other like supplies were being nibbled upon by what was certainly a mouse the captain who prided himself on a clean and rodent free ship directed him to set poison for the scavenger and thought no more of the matter but the captain did not rest easy his sleep was disturbed upon many occasions by a rustling scampering noise in his cabin when he arose and lit his lamp he was stunned to see sitting on the foot of his bunk a tiny mouse seemingly unafraid and serene looking straight at him this happened night after night and the captain became quite fond of the little creature but when upon one occasion he found that the mouse had eaten up a midnight supper and gnawed upon his log-book as well as starting to scamper up and down the bed while the captain was asleep he changed his mind taking up his whip he struck the little mouse with it killing it and tossed it out of his porthole when the captain returned home he opened the door to find his wife dead on the floor in a pool of sea-water with the mark of a whip-lash across her face old bill hardy calculate i never seed the likes of old bill hardy yep it was a humdinger all right thar were a heap of shrewd peddlers round about in my day young feller an believe me they were the cagiest bunch of fellers you ever see you had ter watch your step when you were bargainin with em yessiree sir else you'd find yourself holdin the shy end of the stick but the feller that used to drive the sharpest dickers was old bill hardy twa'n't many women or men folks either round here that hadn't been spliced at one time or another by old bill i remember one time in particular happened right here in the village it did twas quite a spell ago when you were no more than a twinkle in the devil's eye well seems the folks round here were getting some pretty high-flying the town had a hearse and a durned good one too that's been used for buryin for nearly thirty years and some of these folks began to think that mebbe the old mariah wa'n't quite toony enough for em so they sashayed over to town meetin and voted to buy a new one one day old bill was a drivin by at the old hearse house first selectman blige gibbs was loafin round the doorway and spied bill a-comin thought he'd see if he could get old bill's goat he hollered out say thar bill what'll you give us for the old hearse but bill didn't bite he jest looked elijah right in the eye and said why i dunno don't seem rightly that you ought to sell the mariah some folks in town ain't even had a chance to write in it yet but if you be of a mind to sell it durn if'n i might give five dollars for it and sure enough bill bought the old hearse hitched it on ter hind end of his wagon and drove off he was drivin along proud as you please when he passed miss tisra small miss small was allers collectin and buyin old stuff antique she called em old bill pulled up near her and hollers here's another antique for you miss small miss small didn't think much of the hearse hitched on to the hind end of his wagon she was mad as a wet hen chat up yo fool she says and sailed off down the street bill just kind of chuckled well the next thing you know old bill was using the old hearse for a peddler's cart and the women folk was so scandalized they got up a meeting to complain about it seems they thought it kind of improper that the hearse that had carried their mothers and fathers to the grave was being used to cart old brooms and tinware so they raised twenty-five dollars and bought it back from old bill he didn't care a mite he'd made twenty dollars the old hearse was put back in the hearse house and stayed there till it rotted apart member nother time too every one knew old bill would sell anything one day he was driving along and met two young scalawags who thought they'd have a bit of fun with him they up and asked him what he'd take for the pants he was wearing two dollars says bill the winkin and eyelash and durned if he didn't peel em right off and hand em over to the two young fellers who were kind of taken aback i can tell you git up said bill and off he drove down the road all wrapped up in an old hoss blanket how sophy got a husband sometimes a good deal done on the spur of the moment by a well-meaning philanthropist can do more harm than good and lead to exceedingly comical and unexpected complications for instance take the case of squire nickerson of orleans who never knew the repercussions that resulted from a spontaneous act of kindliness to two strangers first of all let me introduce the principals in this little drama squire nickerson well to do prominent kindly a school marm from boston whom we shall call sophy spinster acid tongued parched and taken to drinking lemon juice which probably accounted for her parchment-like appearance and seth prominent well liked friendly as the squire but in very different circles to be blunt seth was an amiable old reprobate good people all of them but when they were thrown together they were stirred round in the darnedest stew you ever heard of squire nickerson was driving one night long enough ago so we can spare embarrassment to those involved back from a business meeting in hyannis the road from hyannis to orleans on the back-side route is and was then winding and dark squire nickerson was dozing in the back of his carriage when he was bumped from his seat by its sudden stop looking round he saw that he was halted not at his home but in the dip bend of the road by pleasant bay what's wrong silas he asked his driver well sir replied silas puzzledly there seems to be some one lying smack in the middle of the road upon examination the some one proved to be a rather battered elderly gentleman of indeterminate age and this gentleman was sound dead absolutely asleep in the middle of the road with a few suspicious sniffs the squire and silas determined with surprise that the man was in a state not of intoxication but of unusual fatigue take him up si and put him in the carriage but sir in the carriage si we can leave him at the inn poor fellow it's a damp night and surely in this state e can do us no harm and so the unsuspecting somnambulist was transported from the road to a fine carriage the squire's carriage with its new occupant had not rolled down the road more than a few paces when it stopped again i say sir this here's a thing said silas there appears to be a lady sir at the side of the road a lady at the side of the road walking why no she's asleep too cried the squire peering out of the carriage window why this poor old couple probably didn't have the coppers to pay for carriage to their destination meant to camp out to-night and were separated in the fog will bring both these poor souls to the inn and so they did squire nickerson made suitable arrangements for food and lodging at the inn the old gentleman and lady were put to bed in a fine room and orders left by the squire to give them a good breakfast leaving extra money with the innkeeper for the two sleepers and brimming over with self-satisfaction of a good deed well done squire nickerson drove to his home leaving his newly acquired but unconscious friends snoring peacefully side by side and never dreaming that there was a possibility that he had joined a pair whom convention and law had not made one the fact was the old man and the old woman were perfect strangers to one another and their being found in similar situations was purely coincidental seth who by now you know was the old gentleman in question was very accustomed to spending the night wherever he might be and sophy the lady in the picture travelling by stage from boston had become annoyed and frightened at the antics of a rather tipply driver and under the impression that it was but a few short miles to orleans had left the stage and started to walk when found by the squire she had just stopped at the side of the road to rest and had fallen into a deep and sound sleep and so passed the night the newly united pair snored and wheezed peacefully beside one another until the early sunlight broke into the room to disclose the shocking and amazing situation sophy was the first to awake stirred from sleep by a sound she had never heard before that of a man snoring imagine the consternation of the proper spinster when she awoke to find herself side by side in a strange bed with a man where she was or how she got there she didn't know it was clear that she was in bed with a man and that was an event that had never happened to her before and undoubtedly never would she let out a scream that should wake the dead old seth mumbled in his sleep opened one eye and then sat bolt upright in bed staring at sophy who cowering at the bedpost with purple face and tight-shut eyes screamed with the continuous wail of a fire siren first shock turned to dumb amazement sophy stopped her caterwauling and turned her head toward seth who by now fully awake sat frozen with apprehension she sat bolt upright on one side of the bed he on the other and with eyes riveted on one another and there they sat transfixed with amazement and shock madam began seth remembering his manners even in a situation such as this one my name is make me an honest woman you wretch cried sophy interrupting seth loudly it had at last struck her that this was some monster of a man who had succeeded in some horrible design upon her honour make me an honest woman villain that you are or i will be the death of you meanwhile attracted by sophy's first screams the other occupants of the inn were peeping in at the door where they saw this amazing scene an elderly lady keeping up a continuous stream of gesticulations vindictive assertions and loud pleas for aid was busily dressing herself more suitably for a meeting with a stranger and in bed cowering and trembling and attempting to interject the lady's hollers an old man valiantly denied any knowledge of what had occurred the innkeeper at last interfered with the authority of his station on inquiry it was found that no breach had been made that could not be easily repaired even when told the true story sophy would not keep still the old gentleman seth was then asked if he had any objections to taking his fair bedfellow for a helpmate during the remainder of his life what else could he do he stammered out his consent as well as he could the enraged virgin smoothed down her anger and ruffled feathers since satisfaction had been made to her injured honor the bargain was made a gay but strained prenuptial breakfast was held at the inn and the happy pair were bundled off to church amidst the laughing shouts of the strange bridal party and uninvited guests there the parson waited to make good a match too precipitously formed by the charitable squire who never knew the outcome of his good deed the orleans lamplighter at rock harbor lived the old lamplighter of orleans josh northrup who took the job when the good ladies of the church the sewing circle and female samaritan society organized the orleans street lighting club for years joss was a familiar figure making his rounds up and down the streets with his ladder oil and matches joss listened with a philosophical nod to all the complaints of the townsfolk and was often heard to sigh i'd start on one end of my bee quite a while before dark and folks around there would get all set up by the spectacle of me burning oil before sundown by the time i reached the other end it was after dark and durned if the fools down that end didn't kick cause they weren't getting their money's worth the lamplighter's set of rules decreed that the lights were not to be lit on what the calendar called a moonlit night whether the moon could be seen or not thus the most dangerous time to be strolling along the streets was apt to be on a scheduled moonlit night for josh always stuck religiously to the calendar the giant of long nook valley truro was on that part of the narrow land that sweeps inward at the crook of the cape's long arm to form provincetown here where the scrub pines grow tough and scrawny and the truro hills roll from backside to bayside tangled with a meshwork of clinging bayberry wild blueberry sturdy beech plum and coarse hog cranberry is long nook valley a deep-hewn wedge carved in the rugged face of the lower cape a valley that stretches from the broad waters of the atlantic on one side of cape cod to the deep half-moon waters of cape cod bay on the other straight through the truro hills goes long nook valley the ancient sun shines down on a place as old as time a place primitive wild and strangely beautiful from the deep floor of the valley the hills rise to the sky silhouetted with the bony fingered scrub-pines in this time-scarred gouge through the hills legends could well have started and superstition and folk-lore have their ancient origin the formation of long nook valley is a legend itself and concerns maloof a giant legendary figure who lived in the cape region even before the great glacier came down from the north to chew deep paths in the surface of the earth when this earth was filled with mysterious mists and vapors rising from land and sea still in a state of flux and yet unformed with arms as long and mammoth as the towering elms of yarmouth and legs packed with the resilient strength of the mast of a great schooner with a chest as huge and powerful as the ancient hercules maluf was no mortal man his voice could bring the wild rains down from the skies his whisper could churn the waters of the sea into white foam maloof could stand in the deepest waters of cape cod bay and by stretching out his arms touch with one fingertip what is now provincetown and with the other what is now orleans when maloof got into his fishing craft the waters all along the cape shores rose as if in swift high tide this boat was immense its sides thick and massive its length enough to hold even the giant's tremendously long legs gargantuan frame and seven league boots out in the wide free expanse of the atlantic in the mist and haze went malouf for a day of fishing where the hot sun shot through the steams and vapors maloof dropped anchor he lay back in his boat holding in his great hands his fish-pole made from the top of a two hundred foot pine tree these huge trees grew in great profusion at one time over the cape until a tidal wave came and stripped the lower cape of every living thing leaving in its wake the dwarfed grotesquely scrawny pine trees now found there maloof lolled about on the waters dreaming giant dreams his line slack in his hands maloof was shaken from his lethargy the fishing line was a lashing whip in his hands the pole bent and arched into the water like the tautly drawn bow of an indian it quivered and trembled it snapped up and down it swished to and fro in the air maloof's shoulders were wrenched with a sudden pull at the line and his boat was nearly capsized by the tremendous snap of the line suddenly he knew what lay at the end the giant the prize of the deep waters that maloof had time and again stalked and hunted but without success in one swift movement malouf uncoiled his huge frame and sprang to his feet bracing them hard against the sides of the boat his nostrils dilated and his eyes were wild and eager with the anticipation of a battle with an adversary worthy of his own size and strength maloof's muscles bulged like the sides of a water-cast blue rope veins throbbed in his temples sweat poured down his massive back and the cords in his huge powerful wrists and hands stood out like hawser lines with a great bellow maloof threw back his head and braced himself more firmly against the furious strain of the battle as abruptly as it had started the tight-drawn tension of the line slackened then in another instant the line sprang taut and alive when the creature at the end of maloof's line propelled itself out of the water and into the air several hundred feet a giant codfish with scales as large and thick as oversized barn shingles eyes as big and bulging as washtubs and a gaping slash of mouth as wide as a cave twisted and turned in the air a frenzied monster of the dark waters the giant cod thrashed about in an effort to escape back and forth raced the giant cod blue calm waters turned white and angry breakers house high piled up on the shores the whiplash of the line through the water the rushing of the boat back and forth made mountainous waves and whipped the wind to gale force the cod broke the surface and then sounded the depths again then up up into the air until malus line was almost perpendicular to the water no rearing stallion of the gods and his deity rider had such a battle the victory would go to the wiliest strategist and this the cod seemed to sense for with its eyes red with fear and anger its fins quivering with the strain of battle it leapt into the air once more and then plunged into the water sounding bottom there it pivoted about and headed straight for land the water foamed white from the speed of the cod's course and behind him fanned out in an arc as it was cleaved by the bow of maloof's boat the bullet-like course which sped maloof and his craft straight toward shore was perhaps more terrible than the actual battle in the ocean the shore loomed bigger ahead of him but still maloof held fast his tremendous strength was sapped from the strain of the battle but he still had a giant's determination to conquer with a last surge of strength the cod ceased its twisting turning gyrations and plowed through the shallow waters of the shore up and over the beach and straight into the hills of truro dragging maloof and his boat behind him rocks and boulder formations cracked and split hurled up and aside like pebbles the sky was dark with flying particles of sand and earth right across the cape from atlantic to bay furrowed the frenzied cod and its tenacious captor plowing and ripping a deep scar through the hills and thus was formed long nook valley in truro on cape cod traces of the giant cod are found even today in the form of fish scales as large as barn shingles some say that these fish scales are really pieces of mica left by the great glacier movement down from the north but cape codders know better they are the petrified scales of the legendary giant cod that hauled malouf and his boat straight across the cape through the hills of truro forming long nook valley cupid and the tree warden a portly cape codder while in the midst of his political campaign for the position of local tree warden strolled one evening into a tavern in search of relaxation and rest from his campaigning nodding affably to the various customers he noticed among those present a man who was obviously there for a long and festive evening this brought to mind the intriguing thought that the lady with whom the convivial gentleman was then keeping company would probably be at home alone and in a mood to welcome visitors our hero not one to let such a promising opportunity pass him by made a snap decision and hied himself off to the lady's house so cupid smiled but in the offing trouble brewed the other gentleman observed the approach and quick retreat of the political lothario became suspicious and he too left the tavern only a scant half-hour after the departure of his rival both male pride and indignation were aroused when he arrived at the lady's home for there he found the aspiring town official clad only in his underwear which even on cape cod is not considered correct attire for a social visit stunned by this disregard of convention the lady's rather beery protector seized the visitor by the neck and seat of his union suit and hove him in the direction of the front door now no man likes to walk down main street in his underwear on a sharp january night the treewarden candidate was no exception he did not depart meekly he did in fact give forceful and valiant opposition to the attack of his enraged and indignant adversary it was quite a battle and caused a riotous commotion and an alarming collapse of furniture after a mighty tussle the defender of the weaker sex and convention found himself the victor and the politician found himself out on his ear and in his underwear in the cold night but at this moment of victory the local constabulary forces who had been called by the lady in question arrived on the scene as the minion of the law marched away with a wildly gesticulating and indignant attacker the underwear clad politician who was brushing twigs and snow off his union suit called out hi boys don't forget i'm running for tree warden the singing fish of monomy point in a small musty canvas-bound book unopened for years was found a story of such beauty and wonder that it escapes the imagination each whisper of the turning pages which sent puffs of memory filled dust into the air spoke of a day long ago when a young man found an island paradise the story in the ancient journal was dedicated to the writer's wife jessie and is presented as a possible solution to the strange humming sounds heard now and again off monomy point in chatham on cape cod it was long ago when i was young and adventurous and on one of my first important sailings that this amazing thing occurred we were bound for the indies and while rounding cape horn ran full into a swift and violent storm that was unexplainable for one moment the waters were as calmly blue as those of scargo lake in dennis on a clear summer day and the next they were scowling angry and black the sky shook its fist at our ship and sent down to us such winds and fierce rains as i have never seen before all about us was billowing unpenetrable gray and all hands felt the atmosphere alive with some strange force our navigation equipment seemed frozen and our rudder was cracked by the mountainous waves that crashed against our ship we lived in darkness and floundered around in that sea of gray for five terrible days at the end of the fifth day a calm a stillness came as suddenly as the attacking storm and this silence seemed the more terrible because of its contrast with the wild gray days through which we had just passed all hands came above and though none spoke a word i knew that a strange fear gripped the heart of each of my shipmates i am not a poet or a man of letters and my words however carefully written here could not adequately describe the scene which met our eyes we found ourselves floating in the midst of a strange dead sea from which we could not escape i thought at first that it might be sargasso sea for the waters were filled with weird strands of sea-plant life with roots as big as boulders but common sense and knowledge of the map made that impossible the sea on which we drifted was a sea of powerful currents each eddying in opposite directions the water so clear we could see the smooth white bottom fifty fathoms below was a curious turquoise streaked with brightest greens and pinks all around us were the listing vacant skeletons of ships that had found their unexplainable way here before us monstrous fish and fish no larger than a hair swam through the waters these fish were gold green blue and red striped streaked and dotted with the most amazing panorama of colors strange-hued birds with weird calls flew overhead and over all this amazing scene there was an intense stifling silence we drifted about under the hand of the changing currents for six weeks and lived from the waters around us some of the sea vegetation when pulled up proved to be clean and sweetly edible and the strange bright-colored fish were easily caught during this period although we were well fed and temporarily safe we grew restless and confliction sprang up at every turn for however well fed and kept a man may be the fear of the unknown and a wondering about when he will see familiar land and beloved faces keeps him forever unhappy and discontent moreover we were all consumed with the most intense curiosity about our strange surroundings and always in our minds and before our eyes were the bare hulks of the other ships caught in the sea which we all hoped would not prove to be prophetic to us we had at the end of our six weeks of drifting sunk so low in our spirits and become so apathetic about our situation that we became lax in our shipboard duties as the days dragged by we assigned one watch for the long nights and another for the daylight hours i am sure that if these men had been watched they would have been observed dozing at their posts for none of us expected anything unusual to happen and by this time moved in that aimless lethargy of men without aim or purpose it was on the morning of what i presume to be the forty-second day of our drifting that a frenzied shout from the night watch jolted us from our bunks land had been sighted and all hands laughing and shouting like men freed from long imprisonment sprang to work long neglected to reach this land but each time we came close enough to use the small landing boats the land seemed to move away from us until at last we found that the land sighted was a cluster of many-sized and shaped floating islands the largest of which became our goal these islands moved on the conflicting currents and seemed forever out of our reach finally at the close of four days of chasing the island we were caught up on a current that crossed with that of the largest and it was there on a strange disjointed piece of land on a strange cut-off sea that we found what seemed to all of us to be our dream of paradise the island was verdantly green overflowing with exotic flowers and huge graceful trees which bore sweet succulent fruit a heavy jasmine sweet scent was in the gentle winds here was a land of such incredible beauty and serenity that i knew somehow no man had ever been here before small spring-fed streams veined over the island and the water from these streams was like the coolest nectar the days were always full of sunshine and the sky a shimmering blue but for all that sun the days were never more than comfortably warm the island nights were nights of incredible beauty the water shone with a thousand a million diamonds of phosphorus the night air was cool and sweet and the stars above seemed close enough to pluck from the sky day and night the peace and serenity none of us had ever experienced before was over all and i yearn for that serenity to this day there is always i believe now that feeling over those wonders of nature untouched by man perhaps it was because they had lived so long in strangeness and uncertainty that they had become apathetic or perhaps it was because they had found on this island paradise the very essence of their hidden dream of peace and beauty whatever the reason the men who had been my companions and shipmates all through these amazing happenings now seemed content to loll beneath the palm trees swim in the clear warm water or fish from the canoes which they had fashioned i heard no mention of returning to cape cod nor saw any desire nor yearning for familiar faces and homeland we had established in a small sheltered cove at the south of the island where we had first landed our headquarters here we had everything necessary for living a small stream was close at hand the sea was at our doorstep and the cove was abundant with the cocoanut trees the tropical fruit bushes and a plentiful amount of trees suitable for building in firewood my mates seemed perfectly content to stay in this restricted area and seemed to have no desire to explore further the island upon which we had landed but although i too felt that serenity happiness and contentment i yearned to explore the rest of the island for i felt that there were other mysteries and wonders yet to be seen the rest of the island which i set out to explore on the sixth day of our stay was much like the small part in which we had encamped but seemed to grow increasingly more beautiful as i traveled inland all through the morning i tramped through the thick growth of the island coming now and then upon small glades where damp fresh green moss surrounded little pools and silvery streams these glades were dark and cool and the air was pure and refreshing as i neared what i judged to be the centermost part of the island i broke through a wall of the island greenery and saw like a blazing jewel in a setting of green a lake its waters of glowing deep blue this lake was surrounded by long-leaved trees like the weeping willow i had seen at home that trailed to the thick carpet of rich green moss below curling vine tendrils dashed here and there with dots of red berries and exotic flowers locked themselves around the giant cypress trees the sun pointed shafts of dull gold through the trees that clasped their hands overhead and the air was alive vital and refreshingly cool a direct contrast to the pleasant but heavy sensuously sweet smell of the rest of the island the cool secluded lakeside oasis was a perfect place to stop from my exploring so i settled down on a soft knoll of moss ate fruit from nearby trees and drank the sweet cocoanut milk i must have fallen into a deep and restful sleep for i suddenly started up arrested by sounds which i first attributed to dreams The silence and serenity was still in the air, but there came to my ears, attuned by the deep silence to any small sound, a strange melodic humming.

I was aware through some instinct that I must not move.

As I strained my ears, the humming became louder, and looking over the lake, I saw its smooth surface ripple as if a child had thrown a handful of pebbles onto it.

With all that said, I will pass you along to myself with slightly longer hair from a couple of months ago.

J.W. Burns was a Canadian Indian agent and educator who lived and worked on the Chehalis Reservation up near Vancouver from 1925 to 1941, and then switched over to the nearby Squaw Reservation from 1941 to 1945.

These reservations were and still are very close to one another, and both belong to tribes that speak a Salishan language dialect called Halcomalem.

Archaeological evidence suggests that these communities have been in British Columbia for between five and ten thousand years, and possibly even earlier than that.

And during his time amongst the Chehalis people, J.W. Burns took the opportunity to learn some things about these legends that he kept hearing of big, hairy men living out in the mountains that seemed to be told by native and frontiersmen alike.

He recorded three specific stories told to him by natives of the region.

Specifically, these were a Chehalis man named Peter Williams, a Squaw man by the name of Charlie Victor, and a man named Point from the village of Agassiz.

And all three told him tales of what their people called saskets, or in translation, roughly, hairy men.

have to question it, Mary, then you're not sure enough.

Squaw, come.

He's getting dirty, Mr. Dillon.

What are you going to do, Miss Tabor? To eat love.

Soon he returned, carrying over his shoulder a doormat which he threw down at her feet.

"A venison, O Squaw," he said in a lordly voice.

"Let it be cooked.

I've had it out all morning," he added in his ordinary tones.

"They've not missed it yet." He fetched from the wigwam two small jagged tins and, taking the larger tin off the fire, poured some into each.

"Now," he said, "here's some pale face for you, Squaw." "Oh," she said, "I'm sure he's awfully good, but..." "Oh, you needn't be frightened of it," said William protectively.

"It's jolly good, I can tell you." He picked up the paper cover of a packet of soup from behind the trees.

"It's just that and water, and it's jolly good." "How lovely.

I am one of those people that is not afraid to say it.

It's called old squaw.

Yeah.

And I'm not-

Old squaw.

Yeah

... afraid to say it because I've had the privilege of learning Anishinaabemowin for a couple of years.

Um, squaw is the Cree for shkwe, uh, which is the word for women.

And, and for a while there we were kind of taking turns who was winning majors.

Was that you or another player who shot a 59? I ran into at Squaw, I believe it was.

You had little children.

Were you not there on a, on a Christmas-type trip?

Like, but that's not why I bring it up.

[laughs]

We have a connection, even if you've forgotten about Squaw, and we're not heard about that.

But we go to the place where you pretend you're playing on the computer and, and one we picked out one day was Brohof-

End of Skulls in the Stars.

The Squaw by Bram Stoker.

This is a LibriVox recording.

All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.

For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Tony Sheinman.

The Squaw by Bram Stoker.

Nürnberg at the time was not so much exploited as it has been since then.

Irving had not been playing Faust, and the very name of the old town was hardly known to the great bulk of the traveling public.