"I will shoot
one for you," said the young man. He strung his bow, placed an
arrow on the string, simply seemed to raise the arrow in the
direction of the chicken (taking no aim). Twang went out the bow,
zip went the arrow and a chicken fell off the limb, only to get
caught on another in its descent. "There is your chicken,
grandfather." "Oh, my grandson, I am too weak to climb up and get
it. Can't you climb up and get it for me?" The young man, pitying
the old fellow, proceeded to climb the tree, when the old man
stopped him, saying: "Grandson, you have on such fine clothes, it
is a pity to spoil them; you had better take them off so as not to
spoil the fine porcupine work on them." The young man took off his
fine clothes and climbed up into the tree, and securing
the chicken, threw it down to the old man. As the young man was
scaling down the tree, the old man said: "Iyashkapa, iyashkapa,"
(stick fast, stick fast). Hearing him say something, he asked,
"What did you say, old man?" He answered, "I was only talking to
myself." The young man proceeded to descend, but he could not
move. His body was stuck fast to the bark of the tree. In vain
did he beg the old man to release him. The old Unktomi, for he it
was, only laughed and said: "I will go now and kill the evil
spirits, I have your wonderful bow and arrows and I cannot miss
them.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149