Jane Louise Curry, Children's Books Author
  There are stories of human adventures, too-- from the women who (unwisely) marry stars and, discovering their mistake, must find a way to get down from the land up in the sky-- to disobedient young Rough-Nose, captured by a witch and tied up in a bag of smoke! Do they all escape...?   "Will not someone rid us of these creatures?" asked the folk of Eagle's village. "Will not someone rid us of these creatures?" Complained each one to another. Cutuk, the rock squirrel, listened as the question went its rounds and thought. Her wisdom was great, for she was old and a medicine woman; and her courage was no less than her wisdom. One thing alone gave her doubt, and of this at last she spoke. "I am old," she said, "and in the pouch of my memory I hold magic, a medicine with which to trick, to trap such mean folk as old Witsduk and her family. Willingly would I destroy them, but I fear Wus, the fox.. He is a tease and you may laugh at his tricks, but his teasing is evil. To put the Witsduks in my sack is one feat, but to slip past Wus is a greater. He would laugh to loose them, to snatch the sack, to untie it, and to set the Witsduks upon us." "He must not! He shall not!" cried the animals, eager to see Cutuk on her way to the mountain where their tormentors lived. "We will stop him," they said. Eagle nodded. "Good, my people. Wus is likely off upon some mischief now; I know not where. Some score of you must follow Cutuk. If friend Wus appears, you must stop him any way you can. Our old folk and our children cannot much longer stand the harshness of the Witsduks. Wus must not meddle in this." "He shall not!" answered a score of the bravest. From her lodge Cutuk brought a large sack tightly woven from tough grasses. She carried it folded under her arm. Into the beaded pouch at her belt, she had put a long buckskin thong, her head strap for carrying burdens, a pair of mittens, and a fur hood. With the bravest of Eagle's people at her back, she setout for the white-topped mountain where lived Witsduk's people. At the mountain's foot, her followers halted to keep watch upon the trail. Cutuk hobbled on. Not far below the crest, she crept among the rocks to hide. Her sack she opened, spreading wide its mouth. For a long while she crouched low, waiting, silent. Above, atop the ridge, the Witsduks rushed about and around: some in a whirling dance, some shrieking and chattering shrilly into the wind. Old Cutuk wore her mittens and hood but was fast becoming frozen. When at last they came near to her hiding place, her frozen paws could scarce hold the gaping sack. None saw her. As they passed by, Cutuk softly said words of medicine, of magic. Into the bag danced the Witsduks. They could not stop themselves. More streamed down into the rocks where Cutuk chanted the words that none but she knew. Into the sack they rushed, and she pushed, crowded, and shoved them in more tightly yet. The last in, the sack full, she fumbled in her pouch for the buckskin thong, whipped it about the neck of the sack, and tied it with stout knots. The carrying strap she fastened securely and slipped its headband into place over her forehead. Sack upon her back, she stumbled numbly down the trail. The air grew warmer. Her feet grew more sure. At the foot of the mountain, she hailed those who waited. "Hai, good folk! In my sack every Witsduk in the world is packed! Come follow to the deepest of canyons, where I shall bury the sack under a flood of sliding stones. And keep watch for Wus! I fear him yet." "But there has been no sign of him, Old One." "Yet I fear to meet him. He would give me no peace. Were he to open my sack, no creature would be safe. It is for this I fear. The anger of the Witsduks would spill over the land, bringing cold death--and never could they be trapped or tricked again. You must come with me." The animals said, "Oh yes, Old Cutuk, if Wus comes our way, we shall stop him. We could sit upon his head… or tie him up… or…” But the thought of the spiteful anger of Wus dismayed them. What if they should have to kill old Wus? For a while unhappily they followed Cutuk, then one by one they turned back. Alone Cutuk kept on until a great log fallen across the trail gave her pause. Pushing the sack up first, she climbed atop the log and saw Wus. He was crouched below her, reaching with one paw under the log and calling in a sweet voice, "Here Mouse, little Mouse. Come out and talk to your brother Wus." Cutuk did not move. What was best to do? Perhaps he would pay no attention to her if he were hunting. If she tiptoed to the end of the log, he might not catch sight of her before she gained cover in the chinquapin bushes there. Cautiously she moved. "Hai, grandmother! Where might you be tiptoeing with such a bulging sack? One might think you did not want Wus to see you!" Nervously the old squirrel laughed. "Oh no, good Wus. It was that I had no wish to disturb your mouse hunt." "You are kind, grandmother." Wus smiled, showing his teeth. "But the mouse is gone. What have you in your sack? Where are you going? If that be food, in kindness you should give me some as I have lost the mouse." "No, no. It is not food." "I am not so sure. You would not speak with a double tongue, my grandmother? No, no, Cutuk is honest. Good honest Cutuk, you must let me help you down from this log so that you may be on your way. Here, I willlift down the sack. You are too old for such a heavy load." "No. It is not heavy. I will manage," she insisted, lifting the sack easily in her hands and slinging it across her back again. The head band she fitted across her forehead once more. "So full and yet so light?" Wus threw up his paws as if astonished. "What do you carry? It is milkweed pods! You are going to dry and scrape them and make string from their insides. Open the sack that I may see! My bow needs a new string, and I know not which pods are best to gather. Open the sack that I may see." "I have no milkweed pods," said Cutuk, edging away. "Then it must be food. Some new food." Wus teased. "Wus loves to try new foods. Kind grandmother, do untie your sack and give me a taste." "You would not like the taste of these." Wus moved along the log beside her. " Ah, so you have tasted them?" There was no escaping him. At last Cutuk sighed. "In this sack I carry nothing new. They are creatures you hate as much as I. Many times they have made your teeth chatter and your breath to become ice in the air. I go to bury them forever, to rid the world of them." "Give them to me," said Wus. "I shall eat them here and save you carrying them further. There is nothing under the sun and moon I cannot eat, whether it crawls or walks or flies. Wind and air I can eat; rain and clouds are tasty to me. You can have nothing in your burden sack that is not food for Wus. Wus can eat everything!" "You are not fooling? You can eat any folk that walk this world?" asked Cutuk. "Any. Try me. There is nothing I cannot eat." "What of the Witsduks? It is the Witsduks I carry in my sack. Surely you do not wish to eat such as they?" Wus swallowed uncomfortably but insisted that he was eager to feast upon Witsduk. Cutuk leaped from the log and tried to push past the stubborn fox. No good could come of arguing with such a one. But Wus was not to be ignored. From behind he grabbed her head strap angrily and pulled. It cut at her forehead, and as old Cutuk stumbled backwards, she knew that she was beaten. "Very well, foolish one. Take the sack," she said. She unfastened the strap from her burden. "Take it, untie it, and eat them if you will. But wait at least until I have crossed the flatland and am well away!" She turned and ran. Her old legs carried her as swiftly as if they had been young. But fast as she was, Wus had loosened the buckskin string before she reached the middle of the flat. Out slipped the first Witsduks. One by one they came, and the greedy fox caught and ate each one. When Cutuk had almost reached the far edge of the plain, he loosened the string yet more. Angry Witsduks poured from the mouth of the sack and spilled upon the ground. Wus had hard work to catch them all. He dashed about, snapping his jaws in all directions, gobbled as fast as he could, ate them all; ate and ate until he could eat no more. He did not think to tie the sack again. The Witsduks inside milled about, beating at its walls, pushing toward its mouth. The string slipped to the ground, the mouth gaped wide, and out rushed the Witsduks in a great crowd. Furious, they ran in all directions. Wus was at last frightened. He turned tail and fled. Old Woman Witsduk followed him, shrieking, "Tso, tso! You would trick my people into a sack, would you? You would eat my children's children, would you? I'll pinch your nose for that!" The other Witsduks streamed behind her, shrilling, "I'll chatter his teeth, I will! Let me pass-- I'll frost his toes! I'll freeze his knees, I will, I will!" They overtook and surrounded him. Wus beat at them, brushed them from his eyes, and barked for help. They swarmed. They flurried. They pinched and prodded. When they left him for dead at the side of the trail, he looked like a frosted snow fox, stiff legs in the air. From his mouth out came the hordes of Witsduks he had eaten. None were hurt, and all were angrier than Old Woman Witsduk and their brothers had been. In a cloud they swept about the land, seeking creatures to torment, to chill, to kill. Many small folk, caught unawares, were frozen in their tracks. Cutuk had reached the safety of her home in the rocks, and most of Eagle's villagers had crowded into their warm smokehouse--except for those who in their fear of Wus had left old Cutuk to go on alone. Those cowered in their own lodges in shame. The Witsduks live to this day and will live forever, roving from place to place. Only Cutuk had the magic to trap them, and, once tried, it would never work again. The animals learned to grow thick, shaggy coats for the season when the Witsduks were about. Black Bear and Little Brown Bear took to sleeping the cold season away, snug in their caves. No one yet can live at the place where Wus opened the sack-one would freeze or starve, for Old Woman Witsduk lives there still. When the worst was over, Coyote rescued Wus and thawed him out, but never was he quite the same as before. White-haired and suspicious he was. And snow foxes--the Arctic foxes of the North—still speak of him as their Grandfather Wus.   Rough-Nose caught in the Witch's bag of smoke. the Making of California The Securing of Light The Theft of Dawn Cottontail and the Sun The Theft of Fire The Rescue of Fire Coyote's New Hairdo The Witsduks Coyote and Mole Cottontail's Song The Out-Foxed Fox The Growing Rock The People Made from Feathers The Daughter of South Wind The Wives of West Wind Diakalips The Women Who Married Stars Bright Beads and Many Feathers Rough-Nose Castle Rock Text, cover art and drawings copyright 2000 by the author. |
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