THE ENCHANTED PILLOW.
In the old days there was a certain village in which three died to avenge a wrong done to a child.
It came to pass that on a day a man from the hills came into the village leading his little son. And when it was night, he went into the potuma, where the men slept, to pass the night, and he took with him the child. Now in the potuma was a man of the village who was fierce and violent in all his ways. When, therefore, he saw the hill man about to sleep in the potuma, he arose and beat the little child, saying, "What doest thou here, O child? Knowest thou not that this is a house for men? Begone!"
Now the child's father saw and heard, but he said nothing. And he rose up and took his little son in his arms, and went out of the potuma. Then the fierce man was glad, and he said, "So will I deal with all strangers," and he lay down to sleep.
It came to pass not many days after that all the people of the village were fishing at the river, and none saw the hill man return and creep into the empty potuma. Now when he entered he had some what in his hand, but when he came forth his hands were empty. And he made haste back to the hills.
At even the men of the village came back, and, after they had eaten, they went into the potuma and made ready to sleep, for they were weary after fishing. And it befell that the violent man saw before him a head-rest carved of wood, and he desired that it should be his. (But he knew not that it was the hill man who had placed it there.) Therefore, as was his custom, he laid hold of it, saying, "This is now my pillow. If any wish for it let him take it from me if he can." Then he lay down and rested his neck on the wooden pillow, and was soon asleep, for none of the men were willing to wrestle with him as he had said.
Now in the morning the men woke and one by one came forth from the potuma into the village. But the violent man came not forth, and the others marvelled for what cause he tarried so long, such not being his custom. Therefore, after a time, one of them made bold to go once more into the potuma and to draw near to the violent man to waken him. But he was not able to do so, though he shook him and called to him many times. Then, looking upon him, he saw that he was dead, and he called the others, and they saw it and were afraid, for they knew not why he had died so quietly, and they said, "Who hath bewitched him?"
Then he was buried, and his name was no more spoken amongst them for that he was dead. But on the next night, another man, seeing the pillow lying without one to claim it as his, took it for his own, and lay down to sleep. And on the morrow, he also was dead when the other men arose. Therefore they said, "What cometh to the potuma at night that two men have died? Let us set a watch that we may know who is our enemy." And they did even as they had said, and one of them hid in the potuma all that day. Yet saw he nought. But towards evening a little child, who was playing with his friends outside the door, climbed in to see what was in the house. On a sudden the watcher saw the pillow fly into the air and fall with great force on the head of the child. The little lad lay dead upon the ground, and the pillow was standing in its place again ere the man who saw the deed could move. Then he called to the men who were waiting in their houses, and they came and carried the dead child to his mother.
Then they bethought them of the pillow which had caused the death of three people, and they made ready to take vengeance. They brought faggots of wood, and lit a great fire. Then one who was strong and brave went into the potuma and brought out the pillow and cast it into the heart of the fire. The pillow writhed as though it were alive, and it groaned, "A-ge-ge-ge-ge-ge! A-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke!" until it was burned to ashes. And the ashes flew on the wind over the trees and over the hills to a mountain village, where sat the man from the hills who had thus taken vengeance for the ill done to his little son.
Now, if thou climbest the hills and comest to the village where dwells the hill man, sleep not in his village, else may thy pillow slay thee as it slew the three who died in the old days.