Chapter X: Part 2: also consists of Seneca legends and myths, which are (5)

When the elder brother came to the old man who was mending his net he passed, and, pushing him rudely, called out, “Did anyone pass here?” The old man did not answer. Then he struck him a blow on the head with his club. When he did that the old man threw the net over him and he became entangled and fell. After struggling to get out for a long time, he tore himself free and hurried on. When he reached the old woman where the rocks were opening and closing, he begged her to stop them, but she would not; so, waiting for a chance, he finally jumped, but was caught and half his body was crushed; he rubbed it with spittle and was cured. Then he hurried on in still greater fury. When he came to the river he shouted to the man in the canoe, but the man paid no heed; again he shouted, and then he swam across. On the other side he found an immense forest of withered trees, which for miles had been stripped of their bark and killed by the hammering of turtle-shell rattles by Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, keeping time with them while dancing. These Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, turning upon him immediately, hammered all the flesh off of him; they then hammered all his bones until there was not a trace of him left. When the mother saw her son and his wife she was very happy, and said: “I am so glad you have come. I was afraid your elder brother who took you away would kill you. I knew he would try to do so. Now you will always stay with me.”

19. HAIEÑDOÑNIS AND YENOGEAUNS [29]

One day Haieñdoñnis, carrying all his small effects, was walking along through the forest. It seems that he did not know where he came from, nor did he know to what particular place he was going, although he well knew that he was going in a northerly direction. Wherever evening overtook him there he would place his bundle on the ground and get into it, when he had no hollow tree to enter, and thus spend the night. In this way he traveled many days.

One morning he came to a steep precipice; here he began to wonder how he might be able to descend its face with so large a pack on his back. At last he placed his pack on the ground, and, hastening to a basswood tree standing some distance away, he stripped all the bark from it, which he slit into fine strands. Tying the strips together, end to end, he made a long strand, one end of which he fastened to a hemlock tree standing on the brink of the precipice and the other he let down over the brink. Then taking hold of the strand near the hemlock tree, he carefully lowered himself over the edge of the cliff. He was soon at the end of the strand and there he hung. His bundle pulled down the upper part of his body until he was in an almost horizontal position, with his face turned upward, so he could not see just where he was. Although he was near the ground he did not know it. Feeling that his situation was critical, he thought: “What shall I do now? Would it not be better for me to kill myself by letting go of the strand, for I can not get up, nor can I in any manner descend.” Finally he decided to let go of the rope of basswood bark and fall to the bottom of the precipice; but, as he released his grip, his pack touched the ground and his head rested on the pack. He thought, however, that he was falling all the time. At last he felt weary of falling, and said, “I will try to turn over on one side, so that I can see whither I am going.” So turning himself on one side he found that he was on the ground, and he exclaimed, “I have been greatly delayed by not knowing that the ground was at the end of the strand of basswood bark.” So saying he arose and went on.

When darkness came he found, after diligent search, a hollow tree, in which he spent the night. In this manner he traveled for many days. Finally he decided to find a place in which to dwell, and he resolved that it must be a place where the trees stood only a short distance apart. Having found such a spot, he built a small cabin, in which he put his pack. Then he began to arrange his things in order—skins and furs, ladles and bark bowls, pouch and weapons.

The next morning he went out very early to hunt for food. Soon he saw a deer walking along, and on pointing his finger at it the deer fell dead. Then he carried its carcass home on his back. He then ordered that it skin itself, and this it did. He cut the carcass into suitable portions, some of which he hung up around the inside of the cabin and some he roasted for his meal. That night he found that he had no firewood. Going out of doors, he said in a loud voice, “Let wood for fuel come and pile itself beside my doorway.” The wish thus expressed was immediately accomplished.

This remarkable man had an influence over every kind of game. When he desired a particular animal, all that he had to do was to point his finger at it, and the victim would fall dead. In this way he was able to kill much game in a day. When he returned to his small cabin he did not carry the game, but would stand at the door and say, “Let the game which I have killed be piled up beside my doorway.” When this was done he would say, “Let the skins come off and the meat be quartered, put up to dry, and be smoked.” Then he would enter his cabin, paying no further attention to the game. In the morning he would find the meat hanging up to dry and a large heap of skins lying at his door. He would then spend the day in tanning the skins.

One day while he was out hunting he saw Gaasyendietʻha,[32] whereupon he pointed his finger at him and Gaasyendietʻha at once fell dead. Haieñdoñnis took off his skin for a pouch. Going some distance farther, he beheld a panther. On pointing his finger at it, the panther fell dead and he then skinned it. In like manner he killed and skinned a fox. With these three skins he was enabled to make three pouches, which, on his arrival at his home, he hung on the wall of his cabin.

After a while the thought came to him, “What shall I do with these three pouches?” Then he took down the pouch made of the skin of Gaasyendietʻha and commanded it, saying, “Stand upright here.” Instantly Gaasyendietʻha stood there before him alive. Then Haieñdoñnis made the other two pouches come to life in the same manner, and there they stood inside his cabin. Meanwhile the rumor spread that Haieñdoñnis had settled down in that place and that he was possessed of potent orenda, or mighty magic power, and that he was a sorcerer through possession of this mysterious potency, which worked good for his friends and evil for his enemies.

Not far from the cabin of the mysterious Haieñdoñnis stood the lodge of a woman and her three daughters. The mother was reputed to be a great witch, and it was said that she had come there to dwell because no one in the settlement of her tribe wanted to live near her.

One day she said to her three daughters, “Let us pound corn for meal and make corn bread.” So, having prepared the corn for the mortar, they began to pound it, each using a pestle. The corn was soon reduced to meal and the mother made it into corn bread. Filling a basket with this, she said to her eldest daughter, Deyondennigongenyons,[33] who was a very handsome girl, “I want you to go to Haieñdoñnis’s lodge to learn whether he will marry you or not.” They lived one-half day’s journey from Haieñdoñnis. Willingly obeying her mother, the girl started with the basket of corn bread.

Haieñdoñnis saw the woman coming with a basket on her back, and he exclaimed: “Hoho! There is a woman coming. I think that she is coming to see me. I do wonder if indeed she desires to marry me.” Then, addressing the pouch, Gaasyendietʻha, he said: “I want you to go yonder and to stand beside that tree there. You, Panther, stand a little nearer to the cabin, and you, Fox, stand in the doorway of the cabin.”

As the woman drew near Haieñdoñnis sat smoking his pipe. She came quite close to Gaasyendietʻha, but as she walked with her head down at first she did not see him; but when just in front of him she noticed something, and, looking up, saw so fierce-looking a person that instinctively she turned back and fled. As she ran along the bread all fell out of her basket, so when she reached home there was none left. Her mother, Yenogeauns, asked her, “What is the matter?” But she was entirely out of breath and could not answer. Haieñdoñnis was laughing, for he saw her run all the way home.

After several days the mother said to her daughters, “We will again make corn bread.” Soon the girls had prepared and pounded the corn into meal, which the mother made into bread. Then she addressed her second daughter, Yonwithahon,[34] saying: “Take this basket and go to the lodge of Haieñdoñnis and see if he will marry you. Your sister was a great coward, and so she failed.” Obeying her mother, the girl started on her journey.

Haieñdoñnis saw her coming and said: “Here comes another woman. She will soon be scattering her corn bread, too.” So he stationed the living pouches as he had before. The girl came along with her head down until she reached Gaasyendietʻha, and, seeing him, she said, “I need not be afraid,” and passed on. In like manner she passed Panther, and came to the doorway; there before her stood a man rubbing something against the door which frightened her greatly, and she screamed and fled homeward. On her way she likewise lost all the bread out of her basket. Seeing her flight, Haieñdoñnis laughed at her, too.

Haieñdoñnis hunted a good deal and was accustomed to clean intestines of the game he had killed and fill them with blood and pieces of fat and meat, and so cook them. He cooked many of these and hung them over his couch.

After a few days had elapsed the old woman said to her daughters, “Let us make another trial.” It would seem that the mother well knew what had happened to her daughters who had made the journey to the lodge of Haieñdoñnis. So they made corn bread of such kind as was customary in proposals for marriage, and they filled a basket with it. Then the wily old mother said to her youngest daughter, Yenongäa: “You make the attempt this time. Do not notice anything or fear anything, but go directly to the lodge of Haieñdoñnis.” The dutiful daughter replied with some inward misgivings: “It is well. I will try,” and, taking up the basket of bread, she started.

Now, Haieñdoñnis soon saw her coming, and he exclaimed: “Is it not wonderful what small value these people place on bread? They come here with it and then run off, scattering it along the path as they flee. Now this one is coming with a basketful on her back, and I suppose that she will run off, dropping it along the way behind her.” He watched her come up to Gaasyendietʻha, and saw her look at him and then strike him, so that he fell to the ground. She saw that this seemingly ferocious figure was only the animated skin of Gaasyendietʻha. So coming up to Panther, she dealt with him as she had with Gaasyendietʻha. On arriving at the door where her second sister had thought she saw a man, Yenongäa went up to Fox and struck him a blow with her hand; down he fell, for he, too, was nothing but a pouch of fox skin, the tail of which the wind had been brushing against the flap of the doorway, the occurrence which frightened her sister. The other sisters had thought that living beings stood before them.

Now, when Haieñdoñnis saw her doing these things, he thought, “She will surely come into the lodge; so I must get my pipe and pretend to be an old man.” On entering the lodge, Yenongäa inquired, “Where is Haieñdoñnis?” Receiving no answer, she repeated her question, and then Haieñdoñnis replied in an old man’s accents. “It seems to me that I hear a woman’s voice.” So she called in a louder tone. Then he looked up, saying, “I do not think that he is at home, or that he will return before the end of ten days.” The unabashed young woman replied, “It is well. Then I will come in ten days,” and started for home.

At the end of ten days the youngest daughter again set out for the lodge of Haieñdoñnis. When she drew near he saw her, and said to himself, “Now I shall change myself into a small boy.” On this visit the young woman paid no attention to the animated pouches representing Gaasyendietʻha, Panther, and Fox, but went directly to the doorway and stood there. On making her presence known, she heard the voice of a small boy say, “Come in.” After entering the lodge she asked, “Where is Haieñdoñnis?” The answer came: “He has just gone out. He has gone to the other side of the world.” “How long will he be gone?” was her next inquiry. “Oh!” came the reply, “he said that he would be gone about ten days.” Then she assured the small boy that she would return in that time.

At the end of the time Haieñdoñnis saw her coming again, and resolved to make himself invisible this time, to deceive her. So when she had made her way into the lodge and set her basket down, she looked around but saw no one. Then, saying, “I will wait a while,” she sat down on the couch of Haieñdoñnis. The situation was so amusing that Haieñdoñnis laughed out loud, and the young woman, becoming frightened, arose and fled home, where she arrived quite ashamed of herself, for she had left her basket of corn bread. Her mother asked, “Where is the basket of corn bread?” but she made no reply, knowing that her mother was aware of what had taken place. The mother then heated water and prepared to wash her daughter clean, for she saw that some of the deer intestines which hung in the lodge of Haieñdoñnis were clinging to her daughter. The old woman took them with the remark: “I am thankful to you. These are good meat. You shall go there again to-morrow.”

So the next morning she went again, and when Haieñdoñnis saw her he laughed, saying, “I think that all the intestines will go this time.” On entering the lodge she saw Haieñdoñnis in his real shape. He asked her what she was going to do with the basket of bread which she had left in his lodge. She replied, “My mother sent me to live with you as your wife.” He replied, “It is well, and I agree to it,” and from that time they lived together as man and wife. These two were evil-minded, wicked people, who were full of the orenda, or magic power, of sorcerers, and all wizards and witches in the world knew just the moment that they became man and wife.

The next morning Yenongäa said to her husband that she desired to visit her mother. Haieñdoñnis readily gave his consent to her going; so she went to her home. At once her mother began to work over her for the purpose of endowing her with much more evil-working orenda, and she instructed her, too, how to enslave her husband. She also said to her, “You must urge him to come to live with us.” The young woman returned to her husband, who, on looking at her, discovered that she was being equipped to enslave him. But he foiled her this time and every succeeding time that she undertook to do so. She went to her mother’s lodge for a long time. Finally, Haieñdoñnis became wearied by this conduct of his wife and her mother, and said to himself: “I wonder why they act in this manner. I think that it would be well for me to destroy her people.” To this he made up his mind.

The next morning she again told him that she was going to visit her mother. After she had started Haieñdoñnis followed her. By taking a circuitous route he got ahead of his wife, arriving at her mother’s lodge before she did. Rushing into the lodge, he faced the old woman. He said to her, “I have come to fight with you,” and the aged hag graciously accepted his challenge. So they at once began fighting with war clubs, and were fighting fiercely when the wife entered the lodge. She wondered how her husband had passed her. She stood there powerless to aid either one. The combatants kept on fighting until Haieñdoñnis was certain that the old mother and the two elder daughters were dead. Then addressing his wife, he said, “You go off yonder a little way,” and she willingly obeyed him. Thereupon he set the lodge on fire, and the flames were soon rising high. After the fire had died out somewhat there were a number of explosions among the embers, sounding pop! pop! Then up flew a horned owl, a common owl, and a screech owl to the upper limbs of a tree standing near the scene. These were owls in human form.

Thus were the three women utterly destroyed. Then Haieñdoñnis said to his wife, “Let us go home now.” But she stood there looking in one direction; she seemed spellbound. At last her husband took her by the arm, again saying, “Let us go home,” and she turned and followed him.

It seems that those who were most skilled in the arts of sorcery and enchantment, who dwelt even to the very edge of the world, knew the exact moment Haieñdoñnis had killed the old woman and her wicked daughters, for at that moment a great shout of joy went up from the people, which was heard all over the world; they rejoiced because these women so powerful in magic and so utterly wicked were dead and burned up.

Now, Haieñdoñnis, putting spittle on his hands, rubbed with opposing orenda, or magic power, the head of Yenongäa,[35] his wife. He gently pulled and smoothed her hair, which had been short before that time, and it soon became long and glossy. He had neutralized her orenda through this manipulation. Thereafter they dwelt in the lodge of Haieñdoñnis in great contentment.

20. THE MAN WITH THE PANTHER-SKIN ROBE AND HIS BROTHER WITH A TURKEY-SKIN ROBE

In the olden time an uncle lived in a lodge together with two nephews, the one 2 or 3 and the other 15 or 16 years of age. They dwelt happily in a forest. When the uncle went out to hunt the elder nephew would remain at home and when the elder nephew was out hunting the uncle would not leave the lodge, for the younger nephew was too small to leave alone during the day.

One day the elder nephew said to his uncle: “Mother’s brother, will you kindly kill a turkey gobbler for me? If you will, I will make a robe for my little brother.” “How will you do that?” queried the uncle. “Oh, I shall skin him and make a feather coat for my little brother,” declared the elder nephew.

The next day the indulgent uncle brought home from his hunting a beautiful white wild turkey gobbler and his nephews were delighted to see it. Then the elder nephew skinned the fine bird, leaving the head, legs, wings, and tail attached to the skin. He rubbed and carefully prepared in the usual manner the skin with the feathers in place, and when it had been thoroughly cured and tanned with smoke he placed the turkey-skin robe on his little brother, whom it fitted very well. The boy thrust his feet into the skins of the legs and his arms into the skins of the wings. The skin was a close fit, because the little boy was just the size of a turkey gobbler, and now he looked just like one. The little fellow was able to walk around looking for beechnuts and he could also fly up into trees, so his uncle and elder brother called him “Turkey Brother.”

The uncle and his two nephews lived together until the elder nephew was of an age to be married. Then the uncle said: “Oh, I am tired of cooking and of doing other kinds of woman’s work. I would like to have something prepared by a woman. You, my nephew, are now old enough to marry; so now go off among the people and seek a suitable wife. There is a chief living not far from here who has three excellent daughters, and you can get one of them for the asking.” The nephew, after a moment’s hesitation, replied, “It is well; I am willing to go to seek a wife.”

Now it happened that the Turkey Brother earnestly desired to leave home in quest of a wife, but his elder brother deprecated his desire to go at this time, saying, “Oh, my Turkey Brother, it is better that you remain at home with our uncle, who is now in need of our company—how can we leave him entirely alone?” But the Turkey Brother, unmoved by this plea, answered, “I do not want to stay with my uncle; my wish is to accompany you.” No matter how much the elder brother coaxed or how bitterly he scolded him for his great desire to leave home at this time, the Turkey Brother was determined to go at all cost, so finally he was permitted to leave. The uncle said to him: “Now, my nephew, you must have a suitable outfit of raiment and a fitting stock of weapons, for people must see that you are a great man. I will now bring what I have prepared for you for an occasion of this character.”

Then the uncle brought forth a fine coat or robe of wildcat skins and placed it on his nephew. Stepping back in order to see better how his nephew looked in it, he declared, “That is not good enough.” Then he brought out a beautiful lynx-skin robe and placed it on his nephew’s shoulders. Again stepping back to get a better notion of the set of it, he exclaimed: “This, too, is not befitting the occasion. Oh, I have another, which is just the thing for you.” Thereupon he took from his bark chest of treasures a magnificent panther-skin robe, with the head of the animal formed into a cap or hood. When the wearer of this remarkable robe became excited this head would cry out in anger. In this cap the uncle placed two loon feathers, which sang at all times. This fine robe the uncle put on the shoulders of his nephew and, after critically inspecting him, he exclaimed, “This is befitting and needful, and it will suit the purpose of your journey; now, the people will see you as you are.” To complete the outfit the uncle now brought out a pair of handsome moccasins and a pair of beautiful leggings to match them and an ornamented pouch of a whole fisher’s skin, which, whenever an enemy came near its wearer, snapped at and bit him. In this pouch was a stone pipe, the bowl of which represented a bullfrog and the stem a water snake; when this pipe was smoked the bullfrog would croak and the snake would wriggle and try to swallow the frog. Lastly the uncle gave his nephew a fine bow and a quiver full of arrows, and a war club.

Then, addressing his nephew, the uncle said: “Now, my nephew, go directly toward the west. It is six years’ journey to the country whither you are going. For a long distance from here on all sides the people have been carried off, and we are the sole survivors of our tribe; this is the reason you must go so far to obtain a wife. There is a dangerous spring halfway between here and your destination; it is close to the path, but you must not under any circumstances stop there or touch the water. Farther on, about midway between the spring and the chief’s lodge, dwells an old man, a great sorcerer and robber. You must not pay any attention to him. Do not on any account stop with him or listen to him.”

The two brothers started on their long journey at sunrise. By midday they had reached the spring, although it was distant three years’ ordinary traveling. As soon as the elder brother saw the spring he became very thirsty and strongly desired to drink of the water, but the Turkey Brother exclaimed, “Our uncle warned us not to touch this spring, for it is dangerous to do so.” As they were passing on, the elder brother, looking again at the spring, became so thirsty that he went back to drink from it. Lying on his hands and face, he started to drink, when something caught him by the hair and pulled him into the water. Gripping the creature, he succeeded after a long struggle in drawing it upon the bank. It was a strange creature covered with hair and resembling a man in form and size. As it lay on the bank it gasped and piteously begged to be returned to the water, saying, “Oh, grandson, throw me back into the water!” “Oh, no! You must remain where you are,” he sullenly replied. He stooped the second time to drink, when another creature seized him, but this also he pulled out of the water. It, too, gasped, “Oh, grandson, throw me back into the water!” Without making a reply he stooped a third time to drink and was then undisturbed. The water was very sweet and wholesome. When he had drunk his fill he killed the two creatures. Then with the Turkey Brother’s help he collected a great pile of dry wood on which they placed the two creatures and soon burned them to ashes. Thereupon they continued their journey.

In the middle of the afternoon they came to a place where there were many tall trees. There they saw a poor-looking old man, who kept running around in great haste, shouting: “Oh, grandson, shoot it! Look here! Such a fine raccoon! Oh, shoot it for me! Just one arrow you need spare me.” He begged so urgently that the elder brother shot an arrow at the raccoon, which struck its body. The raccoon ran into a hole in the tree, as the elder brother thought. The old man shouted: “Oh, you must get your arrow! We must find the raccoon; you must take off your garments, lest you should spoil them. You need not be afraid. I shall not touch them, for I shall go up the tree, too.” So the young man removed his robe, leggings, moccasins, and pouch and laid them at the foot of the tree, which he climbed, the old man following him closely. When they reached the hole in the tree the young man peered into it, and, thinking he saw right at hand the arrow sticking in the raccoon, he reached to pull it out; but the old man pushed him into the hole in the tree, and down he went through the hollow in the trunk to the bottom. There was there no raccoon, only an illusion.

Now, the old man, quickly descending to the ground, donned the panther-skin robe, the leggings, and the moccasins, and he also took the pouch with the pipe. At once he began to grow younger in looks; he felt younger, too, and the cap began to roar. Taking the bow and arrows, he started off westward toward the lodge of the chief.

The poor Turkey Brother began to weep and to scream for his lost brother whose clothes were stolen. He flew upon a tree and sat there weeping.

On recovering his senses the elder brother thought: “Now I am certainly in trouble. My dear uncle warned me not to listen to this old man. How can I ever get out of this place? There is no way of climbing out of this den, for the opening is smooth on every side.” Under his feet he felt the bones of other unfortunate people who had been thrown in there before by the wicked old man, and he smelt the odor from them. He remained all night in the hollow of the tree. Toward morning he remembered that in his boyhood he had had a dream, in which a large spider appeared to him, saying, “When you get into trouble I will help you.” He therefore cried out, “Oh, great Spider, come to me and help me now!” At that moment a great Spider began to make a web in the tree, and soon it had made a large ladder woven of thick strands. “Now climb,” said the great Spider. But the young man had not gone up more than halfway when the web ladder broke. “Oh,” said he to the great Spider, “you are not able to help me at this time.”

Then he remembered that he had had another dream, in which an enormous blacksnake had appeared to him and had promised to help him whenever he was in trouble. Therefore he cried out, “Oh! Blacksnake, come to me and help me now.” Straightway there came a great Blacksnake on the tree, which slipped its tail down into the hollow in the trunk until the young man was able to seize it; then the snake coiled itself up, bringing the young man to the top in safety; thereupon the great Blacksnake disappeared.

The Turkey Brother greatly rejoiced to see his brother and, flying to the ground, said: “What can we do? Must we not go home to our uncle now?” “Oh, no!” said the elder brother; “we must go on. I will put on the old man’s clothes.” So he arrayed himself in the old man’s worn-out garments—his shabby robe, stiff leggings, old moccasins, and filthy headdress. He now looked like the old man, having a weak voice and a terrifying cough.

Meanwhile the old man felt grand in the stolen panther-skin robe, for he had arrived at the chief’s village early in the evening. In front of the chief’s lodge was a broad river. The chief appeared to him on the opposite side, and the old man shouted across to him to be ferried over. The chief’s eldest daughter rowed across in a canoe and, seeing the fine-looking man wearing the panther-skin robe and moving around with a haughty bearing, asked him, “Who are you and whither are you going?” The old man coolly replied: “I come from the east, and I am going to the lodge across the river. The truth of the matter is, I am looking for a wife, and I hear that the chief has three marriageable daughters.” “Well, I am one of his daughters,” replied the young woman. Then the old thief answered, “Oh! I think that you would suit me very well.” “Then you are my husband, and we will live together,” rejoined the young woman. She brought him to her father’s lodge and showed him her couch, which was beautifully adorned with fine furs and skins, saying, “This is your place for repose.” He sat there quietly until his wife came to him.

The next evening the elder brother and the Turkey Brother appeared on the opposite side of the river. The former attempted to shout, but his voice was so weak and thin that for a long time he could not make himself heard. At last, some one outside of the lodge said, “There are a man and a turkey on the other side of the river, who are trying to cross.” The youngest daughter of the chief went over and asked the man, who was old in appearance, whence he came and who he was. “I came from the east,” he replied, “and I am on my way to the chief’s lodge. I want to get married, and so I am looking for a wife.” “Looking for a wife? Why, you are too old to marry,” replied the chief’s daughter. “I am not old; I am quite young. Perhaps I look old, but here is my brother who is a little boy yet.” “You come from the east, you say; do you come from beyond the sorcerer’s spring?” she asked. “I am from beyond that spring,” he replied. “Did you pass the spring?” she persisted. “Yes, I did; and I cleared it of its monstrous denizens,” declared the elder brother. “Did you come past the little old man who runs around the tree?” was her next question. “Yes; and that is why I look as old as I do. He craftily stole my enchanted outfit—my garments and dress,” declared the elder brother. In her own mind the young woman thought that this was the man for whom they were waiting, so she resolved to marry him. Saying to him, “You may come along with me,” she ferried him with his brother across the river and took him to the lodge of her father, where she showed him to her couch, which was also beautifully adorned with skins and fine furs. She told him, “This is your place of rest.” Above it was a smaller bed, and she added, “Your brother can have that couch,” and they placed the Turkey Brother up there.

That night the old thief opened the fisher-skin pouch to take out the pipe, but the fisher bit his finger and it was with the greatest difficulty that he released his finger from its mouth.

After the youngest daughter brought her husband home there was great dissatisfaction in the lodge because of her seemingly poor choice of a husband. They tried to get the aged chief to dissuade her from living with her husband, but with a knowing look he would say, “Oh! she knows what she is doing; so let her alone.”

For a number of days these families lived without any unusual incident. Then the husband of the youngest daughter informed her that he was ill with severe pains in the stomach, and that she must get from her father his best wampum bowl, because he, the sick man, desired to disgorge into it. Hurrying away, she brought the bowl. Her husband cast up enough beautiful black wampum to fill it completely. Then he bade her, “Take this to your father and give it to him for me.” In receiving it, the chief remarked: “Oh! thanks. I knew that he is a great man, for he came from a good country. He is the greatest man of whom I have ever heard. This is a beautiful present.” [36]

When the eldest daughter’s husband heard of this he said to his wife, “Run to your father and get his wampum bowl. I too desire to use it.” When she had brought it, he filled it in a similar manner, but only with half-decayed lizards and worms and all manner of foul things of an intolerably offensive odor. He then bade her to take it to her father as a present from him. She did so, but her father was very angry, saying: “How dare you bring that vile stuff to me. Run to the creek with it, and thoroughly wash and scrape the bowl; wash it many times over. But never do this again.”

A few days later the husband of the youngest daughter said again, “Go to your father and get that wampum bowl again.” This time he filled the bowl heaping full with beautiful white wampum. He then said, “Take this to your father as a present from me.” She ran with it to her father, and the old chief was delighted with it, saying: “Oh! he is a man. I thought that there was something great in him, for he comes of a powerful family of a great tribe in a good country.”

When the husband of the eldest daughter heard of this present of white wampum he again sent for the wampum bowl and used it with such result that his devoted wife did not dare go with it to her father, but went quickly to the creek, where she spent an entire day in thoroughly cleansing it.

At this time a Wildcat and a Fox came to visit the husband of the youngest daughter of the chief, for they were his friends. As they walked around, the Wildcat would rub against his legs and purr, and talk to him. It was not long before the Fox saw the Turkey Brother sitting on his couch over the bed, and said to the Wildcat, “That is a fine gobbler up there. Can you get him for us?” The next night the Wildcat, as the Turkey Brother’s bed was near the fire, crawled down the smoke-hole to a point from which it could reach him. But the Turkey Brother, sitting with his eyes open, saw the Wildcat, and, waiting until it got within reach, struck it on the head with a club which he kept and tumbled it into the fire, in which the Wildcat rolled about a number of times, with the result that it got a singed coat. It got out of the fire and began to cry, “Oh! I have fits.” “You can not have fits here,” cried the eldest sister, jumping out of her bed and kicking it out of doors. “That is not a turkey,” said the Wildcat to the Fox, “it is a wizard.”

At this time the youngest daughter of the chief said to her husband, “Why do you not take your enchanted articles of dress from that old thief?” Her husband replied: “I shall do so when the proper time comes. But in the meantime, will you ask your father for his bow and arrows, for I much wish to go on a hunting trip?” So she went to her father with her husband’s request, and her father willingly gave his permission for the use of his bow and arrows, saying, “Yes; he shall have them if he needs them,” and his daughter carried them back to her husband.

The next day her husband went on a hunting expedition, and he had the good fortune to kill a large number of deer; more, in fact, than had ever been killed before in that place. He called the Wildcat and the Fox and said to them, “I give you one deer from this pile.” So they gladly dragged the deer away and ate it. After the game was brought to the chief’s lodge it was distributed among the people, and all had an equal share. No one was left without venison, and every one wondered at the prowess of the hunter.

Then the old chief notified the people that there would be a great council on the following day at the lodge of public assembly. Everyone else was up at the break of day, but the eldest daughter of the chief and her husband slept soundly. While they were asleep the husband of the chief’s youngest daughter took from the old thief the panther-skin robe, the moccasins, the leggings, and the pouch of fisher skin which had been stolen from him by craft. Having recovered his own garments and accouterments, he now donned them to attend the council.

There remained in the chief’s lodge only the old woman, the servants, and the sleeping couple. Finally the old woman, the chief’s wife, went to the couch of the sleepers, and said, “Come! come! you two, arise,” at the same time shaking her daughter. Then looking more closely at her sleeping son-in-law she started back in utter disgust, with the exclamation, “That is a nice-looking husband you have in your arms!” When the covers were removed the true character of the man appeared. With the loss of the stolen enchanted garments he had immediately become old and shrunken, with the face of an owl. The unhappy woman awoke, and, looking at her husband, she was surprised to see what an ugly creature had been sleeping with her. So without any compunction she dragged him out of bed and pushed him with his own soiled garments out of the lodge, saying, “I shall never again have you for a husband.” The wily old owl at once disappeared and was never seen in that place again.

When the husband of the chief’s youngest daughter came into the lodge he looked strong, young, and vigorous. The panther’s head on his robe cried out, the loon’s feathers sang. Opening his pouch and taking out the pipe, he lighted it and smoked; the bullfrog croaked, the blacksnake wriggled and tried to swallow the bullfrog. All the people looked on in wonder, and they said, “We have never before seen a man with orenda so powerful.” Then this magically potent son-in-law said to his father-in-law, “I must now go home to my uncle in the far east.” “We shall go, too,” replied the aged chief, and all the people shouted assent. They were soon ready to follow. The young husband replied: “It is well. My brother and I will go on ahead to prepare for you. You are welcome.”

Then, calling his Turkey Brother, he said to him, “Now, my dear brother, I think that you may take off your turkey-skin robe and put on garments such as other boys wear.” His brother had grown to be a large boy, for he was nearing the age of puberty. So he removed his turkey-skin robe and put on his new style of garments, in which he looked well.

The two brothers then started, and they reached home in one day. But the old chief and his people were six years on the way. They could not travel with the speed of men possessed of powerful orenda. They were welcomed with joy on their arrival in the country of the chief’s potent son-in-law, and the old chief and his people thereafter lived there in comfort and peace.

21. DEADOEÑDJADASES (THE EARTH-GIRDLER) AND THE OLD WOMAN’S GRANDSON

An old woman and her grandson lived together in a lodge in a large forest. They were both feeble and poor, for the old woman had no able-bodied person to help her and her grandson was still a very small boy. The old woman cried much of the time, therefore, on account of their needy condition. Every day, however, she went into the forest to gather firewood. She felled trees by burning, and when they were on the ground she burned them into pieces of such length that she would be able to carry them to her lodge; but whether she was going or coming from the forest she wept without ceasing.

At last her little grandson said to her, “Grandmother, why do you cry all the time, both night and day? Tell me, will you?” In reply she said, “I had many brothers and relatives, but they are all dead now.” Then she took the little boy by the hand, and drawing him to a door, she opened it and led the boy into another room, in which he had never been before. This room was full of articles of dress of every kind and of weapons, ball clubs, balls painted (with symbols of) heads, and a drum. The boy wondered at what he saw here and wanted very much to touch the various articles, but his grandmother told him that he must not remain in the room, nor should he touch any of the things.

The next day when she had again gone after wood for fuel the boy went to the forbidden room and beat the drum, whose sound was so pleasing that he was delighted. Taking a ball and a lacrosse club he went out of doors and began to play ball—that is, lacrosse. He threw the ball with the club and it flew far away toward the east. So he ran after the ball until he found it in a large clearing. And this place was so pleasant that he was very glad to be there. But he soon started for home, arriving there before the grandmother had returned with the wood to the lodge.

On the following day, while his grandmother was absent in the forest, the little grandson again visited the mysterious room and played around in it; but he did not forget to be home before his grandmother returned. He did likewise for several days. But finally he beat the drum so heavily that the old woman heard him far away in the forest. She hastened home at once and scolded the lad for his disobedience, saying, “Why did you go into that room when I told you not to go there nor to touch any of the things?” “Oh, grandmother,” he replied, “do not talk about that, but tell me where are all our friends—my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and my cousins?” The grandmother said deprecatingly: “Oh, you can never see them. There is a man dwelling far away in the east who carries off people and devours them. His name is Deadoeñdjadases, and it is he who has eaten all our friends and relations.” The lad with impatience replied: “Make me four pairs of moccasins. I will fetch them back.” His grandmother, weeping, refused his request, yet she prepared him for the journey.

When he was ready he went eastward, traveling many days and nights until he arrived at a broad clearing in the forest. In the middle of it he saw a long lodge and a person who looked like the inflated skin of a man, watching this clearing, which was occupied by a large strawberry patch.[37] This sentinel guarded the field night and day. Oddly enough, the long lodge extended from north to south instead of from east to west.

The lad, standing concealed within the edge of the woods and calling a mole, said to it, “I want to borrow your skin for a while.” The mole agreed to his request, and then the lad removed his own garments and laid them back of a tree. Then, after reducing his size sufficiently, he crawled into the skin of the mole. Making his way under the leaves and underground until he came to the spot above which was the skin man, he shouted to the sentinel: “Come down, my friend! I want to talk with you.”

After the lad had promised to liberate the skin man, Hadjoqda, and to give him back his flesh body, Hadjoqda related to him all the secrets of this mysterious clearing and of the people who lived in it. He told him: “The man who dwells in that long lodge is called Deadoeñdjadases. He goes around the world every day, seizing and killing people, whose bodies he brings home to eat. Living in the lodge with him are three sisters, who are all great witches. Every day they are engaged in preparing human flesh and pounded green corn, for their ferocious brother will eat nothing else. When not so occupied, the three sisters spend their time driving elks out of the clearing, which is covered with the most beautiful strawberries.” Hadjoqda continued: “Neither Deadoeñdjadases (nor his sisters, for that matter) has a heart in his body; and no one can kill them by beating or cutting them up, for their lives are in another place. In the corner of the lodge is a bed; under this bed is a lake; in this lake a loon swims about; and under the right wing of this loon are the four hearts (the lives) of Deadoeñdjadases and his sisters. The largest heart is his own, the next in size is that of his eldest sister, and the smallest is that of his youngest sister. If you squeeze these hearts their owners will faint away; but if you crush them they will die.” [38]

The lad gave Hadjoqda a piece of false wampum which he had made from a small reed and colored with strawberry juice, saying: “The sisters are calling you now. You must tell them that you were making this wampum as the reason why you have remained away so long. I shall become in person just like their brother and shall return home ill, as it were, and expectorate blood. When I am in their lodge I shall cause the elks to run into the strawberry patch, and you must give the usual alarm. While the sisters are out driving the elk I shall have time to take their hearts from under the wing of the loon.”

The sisters, missing Hadjoqda, called to him many times. When he reached the lodge they angrily asked him: “Where have you been? What have you been doing?” “I have been making this piece of wampum,” said he. All three sisters wanted it, and they were satisfied, for he gave it to them. They pardoned him for his absence. Then he told them that their brother had come home earlier than usual, and that he was ill and spitting up blood.

Now, the lad, going back to the mole, returned its coat and donned his own garments. Then, assuming the exact form and manner of Deadoeñdjadases, he walked through the clearing toward the lodge, spitting blood.

When he entered the lodge none of the sisters except the youngest suspected any deceit. She looked at him sharply, saying, “This is not our brother.” Then they tried him with different kinds of food, but he would eat nothing until they brought him human flesh and pounded green corn, which he ate heartily. This satisfied them that there was no deception.

While he was eating, the alarm came that the elks were in the strawberry patch, and the three sisters, armed with their war clubs, ran out to drive away the elks. The lad lost no time in going to the bed and raising its cover. There he saw a lake in which a loon was swimming. He called it to him and asked for the hearts. The loon raised its left wing, for it was in doubt whether to give up the hearts or not. “Oh, no,” declared the lad; “the hearts are under your right wing. So raise that wing.” Being satisfied as to his right to ask for the hearts, the loon did so; and the lad, seizing them, rushed out of the lodge just as the sisters returned from chasing the elks.

Resuming his natural form, the lad ran around exultingly, crying, “I have taken your hearts. I have taken your hearts.” Then the three sisters pursued him with their war clubs. As the eldest was on the point of overtaking him, the lad squeezed her heart and she fell down in a faint. Then the second sister drew close to him, when he at once squeezed her heart and she, too, fell in a faint. The same thing happened to the third sister also. Then the lad came to a great round, flat rock, where Deadoeñdjadases was accustomed to kill his victims; he ran around this while the sisters, who had recovered from their fainting spells, sought to close with him. Every little while he would squeeze a heart and its owner would fall in a faint; but as soon as he stopped squeezing she would spring up again. When he had sufficiently tortured the sisters in this manner he ruthlessly dashed their hearts against the great rock, one after another, and thus all were killed.

When the cannibal returned at the usual time and did not find his sisters at home he was very angry; but Hadjoqda assured him that they were pursuing the elks and that his dinner was left all prepared for him. Deadoeñdjadases sat down and began to eat. Emboldened by the fact that the lad stood beside him holding the heart of Deadoeñdjadases, Hadjoqda taunted Deadoeñdjadases, “the Earth-circler.” [39]

At once Deadoeñdjadases rushed after the lad, who ran toward the great rock. When the man-eater drew near him the lad would squeeze the heart and the great Deadoeñdjadases would fall in a faint. When the lad ceased squeezing the heart the man-eater would rise again. So, no matter how he tried, he could get only as near the lad as the latter would let him. When tired of this kind of sport the lad dashed the heart of the man-eater against the rock, and Deadoeñdjadases fell dead in his tracks.