Chapter XVI: Part 2: also consists of Seneca legends and myths, which are (11)

Soon the yelping of the dogs told of the arrival of Ongwe Ias, and his footsteps were heard. When the first dog came in, with his mouth open, the woman threw a bone into it, and afterward hit him on the head. The Ongwe Ias at once shouted at her, “Oh, you have killed my dog.” In reply she asked, “Why do they run at me as they do? I have done nothing to them.” Calling them off, he said, “I have had bad luck to-day. I have found nothing but a small cub.” Thereupon he prepared his game, which he cooked with pounded corn. When he had finished eating it he said, “My food was very tender and good, and now I shall take a smoke.” Soon he added, “It seems to me, my niece, that you have two breaths.” She answered sharply: “That is too much to say. You might as well kill me. You should not talk that way.”

The next morning Ongwe Ias said: “I shall not go hunting on that island again. I shall go to the other side of the country.” Then he went away, much to the relief of his prisoners.

After he had been gone some time the woman said, “He must be at his destination by this time, so you may come out.” Hodadeñon came out from under the couch and went with the woman to the lake. There he raised the canoe; getting aboard, the two paddled away as quickly as possible. When they had reached the middle of the lake they suddenly heard Ongwe Ias shouting to them, “You can not escape from me! You can not escape from me!” Running into the lodge, he seized a hook and line, which he hurled at Hodadeñon, at the same time saying, “Catch the canoe!” At once the hook did so and Ongwe Ias was pulling the canoe swiftly back to shore. Suddenly the woman saw that the forest on the shore seemed to be coming nearer and nearer, and then she saw the hook and line and Ongwe Ias at the other end of the line. She screamed to Hodadeñon to break the hook. This he quickly did and they were again free; thereupon they speedily paddled back to the middle of the lake. Then Ongwe Ias, in a great rage, screaming, “You shall not escape from me,” started to run along the bottom of the lake toward his intended victims; but at the moment he was at the bottom Hodadeñon said, “Let there be ice all over the lake so thick that nothing can break through it, and let our canoe be on the top of the ice.”

When Ongwe Ias thought that he was under the canoe he sprang upward toward the surface with all his might, striking the ice with such force that it cracked all over the lake. The force of the blow crushed the head of Ongwe Ias, so that he died.

At once Hodadeñon willed that the ice melt away as rapidly as it had formed. When the ice was gone he and his sister paddled to the shore. On landing, they traveled on homeward. When they reached home they entered the lodge by the western doorway; then going around by the way of the south to the eastern side, Hodadeñon took his sister to the last couch, which was at the northwestern corner, where he seated her. The family was now complete and happy.

42. THE UNCLE AND HIS NEPHEW

An uncle and his nephew lived together in a bark lodge in the woods. They had no neighbors.

The uncle went every day to hunt and to dig wild potatoes. During the day and evening the boy sat by the fire and parched corn to eat. Though the uncle brought home plenty of good potatoes, he gave his nephew only small, poor ones to eat.

The nephew wondered why they were always alone, so he asked his uncle whether there were other people living in that region. In reply the uncle said: “Far off in the west there are people powerful in sorcery, who took all our tribe captive except us two. This is the reason we are alone and have no neighbors.”

Then the boy wondered why his uncle gave him such small, poor potatoes to eat. He saw his uncle put large ones into the pot, but in the morning only small ones were left. So one night the nephew made a hole in the skin cover under which he slept, to watch his uncle. Toward midnight he saw his uncle get up and strike a light, and then going to an old couch in the corner of the lodge, in which no one seemingly slept, raise the top and call out a young man, who was beautiful to look upon, strong, and active. Both the uncle and the strange young man sat down by the fire. The potatoes, covered with moss, were simmering over the flames. The uncle uncovered them, picked out the best for his nephew, and brought him also meat and other food. After they had eaten heartily, the uncle sang and kept time for the young man with a turtle rattle while the latter danced. The little boy looked intently all the time at the young man, saying to himself, “I suppose that is my brother; now we will have some fun.” After the young man had finished dancing the uncle put him under the couch again and, banking the fire, lay down on his own couch.

The next morning, as soon as the uncle had gone to hunt and to dig potatoes, the little boy went to the couch, and raising the corner of the cover, said, “Come out! come out here! brother, to me.” “Oh, no!” said the young man, “I can not go out in the daytime; those women off there in the west, the Wadiʻoniondies, would hear me.” “Oh, never mind; they will not hear you,” said the boy. “Oh, yes; they will hear me, and the moment I come out they will carry me off. They do not know now that I am here, but the moment I make a noise they will hear it and will come for me.” The little follow teased and begged so hard, however, that his brother came out at last. After eating together, one danced and then the other, until at last the young man heard the women calling in the distance, “Ween, Ween.” Instantly the elder brother, jumping under the couch, covered himself.

All this time the little boy kept shaking the rattle and dancing with all his might. Soon two women appeared from the west, sailing in a canoe through the air. “Oh! where is he?” cried they. “Your brother! where is he?” said one of the women. “I have only an uncle, who is old. He is now off hunting,” said the boy. “There is somebody here with you in the lodge,” said one of the women. “Oh, no!” said the boy, “I am alone.” “Oh! you little rogue, you lie,” said the woman. “If I should lie, that is my business,” answered the child. “Well, we will let you off this time, but you shall suffer if you lie again to us.”

In the evening when the old uncle came home, he inquired what he had been doing. “Have you found a brother?” he asked. “I have no brother, have I?” asked the little boy. “Was not there anyone here to-day?” queried the uncle. “No,” said the lad. “Well, what did those women come for? I heard them,” said the uncle. “There was no one here,” said the child. The uncle said no more.

The next morning, when going off to hunt, the uncle said, “You would better go out of doors to play, instead of turning everything upside down in the lodge; go out of doors to play.” His uncle had scarcely disappeared when the boy ran to his brother, begging him to come out, until at last he did so. Again they amused themselves; but in the midst of the dancing the elder brother heard two of the women coming. “Now,” said he, “I must go; there is no use to hide or to deny that I am here. I must go.” Presently the two women arrived in their canoe, which, grazing the top of the lodge, came to the ground. The elder brother got into the canoe, and away they went to the west.

When the uncle came home at night he was bowed down with grief, for he knew what had happened. He sat down, crying bitterly. “Oh! do not cry so, uncle,” said his little nephew; “do not cry; I will go and bring him back.” Running out quickly, he gathered a lot of red-willow twigs, from which he scraped the bark. On throwing this into the fire straightway a thick column of smoke rose and shot off toward the west. Jumping into the smoke, the boy was borne away after his brother. He overtook the canoe when it was about halfway to its destination in the west. The youth in the canoe knew that his little brother was following to rescue him. One of the women was sitting in the bow of the canoe paddling, while the other sat in the stern steering. The young man turned to look at his little brother, whereupon one of the women in the canoe struck him on the side of the head with the paddle, crying out: “Sit still! do not look around.” As she struck him he turned his head slightly, so as to look again; he saw that his brother, on noticing the blow, sprang forward and jumped into the canoe, shouting: “Do not strike my brother.” Then he cried: “Let this boat turn around and take my brother home.” Instantly the canoe, turning around in spite of all that the women could do, sailed back faster than it had come.

As they were nearing the uncle’s lodge the women begged the little boy to let his brother go with them, saying: “We will give you whatever you wish, only let him go.” He thought of what he might ask in payment for letting his brother go again. Then the young woman inquired: “Is there anything we might give to induce you to let him go?” He said: “Yes; if each of you will give me her sexual organ for a moccasin, I will let him go.” On their consenting, he cut out with his knife what he wanted and put the moccasins on his feet; they fitted well. Immediately he was at home.

In answer to his old uncle’s inquiry he said: “I brought my brother home, but let him go again; the women gave me these beautiful moccasins to get him back. I can do everything with them.” After a few days the little boy had such power because of his moccasins that he told his uncle how the women were tormenting his brother, and that he was resolved to rescue him. Bringing a lot of red-willow twigs, he scraped off the bark, which he threw on the fire. Then jumping into the rising smoke, he shot off toward the west, where he came down at the edge of a clearing in a great wood. Just opposite, at the other end, was a Long Lodge, and at the right hand, at the edge of the wood, was a small lodge, in which a grandmother lived with three grandchildren, a boy and two girls.

After thinking a while, he said, “I will go over to the little lodge.” Going there he met a boy of his own age and size, just like himself in every way; half of his hair (the crown) was black and half (the sides) red. “Oh! how do you do?” said the strange little boy. “Who are you? You must be my brother?” The boys looked at each other, and seeing that they were just about the same size they became brothers. “Now, you will come and live here with me, little boy,” said the lad; “I have two sisters and a grandmother; my grandmother has gone out.”

When the old woman came home the little boy said, “I have a brother here; he is going to live with us.” “How could he live with us, we are so poor?” said the grandmother. “I think he can; he is poor himself and will be satisfied with what you have to give him,” replied the lad. At last she consented to let him stay. The other boy, drawing near the old woman, asked: “Are you going to the chief’s lodge? Have you heard what is going on there?” “Oh, yes!” said the old woman; “the chief’s two daughters brought a man from the east, from that great wampum people; they hung him up last night and made him cry. His tears are wampum. Tonight they will do the same thing.” “Can we not go over there?” asked the boy. “I suppose so,” said his grandmother; “I will get some wampum.”

When evening came the old woman, her grandchildren, and the little boy went to the Long Lodge. The people had already assembled, and the man was hanging from a post. The two sisters were sitting on couches, one on each side. The boy said to his friend, “Now we will get some dry rushes to light the pipes of the chiefs and of the people standing around, if they will let us in.”

When the old woman came to the Long Lodge she asked whether she might not have a chance to get some wampum. They asked the chief, who said, “Yes; she is a good woman. Let her have a chance, too.” “My little grandson and his friend,” said the old woman, “will come in and carry lights to those who want to smoke.” “Oh, yes,” said the chief, “let the little boys come.”

As they went into the lodge the young man who was tied to the post smiled when he saw his brother. All who saw him wondered what the man was smiling at. Presently the chief gave orders to apply the firebrands. Thereupon they burned him on one side and then on the other; he cried bitterly, and as the tears fell they turned into wampum beads, falling in a shower. All the people ran to collect the wampum, and the old grandmother got some too. After the man had cried a while they rested and smoked.[84] When the order was given to begin the torture a second time, the little brother gave one moccasin to his friend and kept the other himself. As they were about to begin the burning he said to the boy, “Now stick your foot into the fire.” When he did so, one of the sisters screamed, as though in the agony of death, and never stopped until the boy took out his foot. All the people wondered what was the matter, but she would not tell.

Again, as they were going to apply the fire to the man, the little nephew put his foot into the fire and the other sister screamed in terrible pain. After they had gotten some wampum and rested, the boy said, “Let them all sleep soundly.” His grandmother and the little boy went outside with his friend, and the grandmother said, too, “Let them all sleep soundly.” When all were asleep the lad cut down his brother, whom he took outside; then, walking around the lodge, he said, “Let this lodge be turned into flint and let it become red-hot.” At once this came to pass and all within the lodge were burned up. “Now,” said the boy, “I think you would better come home with me, grandmother; you would be a good wife for my uncle.”

All went to the uncle’s lodge, where they found him crying for his lost nephew. He had been tormented by foxes, who had knocked at the door, saying, “We have come, uncle.” After the nephews and the rest of the company had come into the old uncle’s lodge, a fox who did not know of the new arrivals knocked at the door, saying, “Uncle, I have come.” “Let him in,” said the boy, while all hid themselves. On coming in the fox ran toward the fire to get ashes to throw into the old man’s face, but the boy caught him. Saying, “Oh, you rascal! I will fix you now,” he tied together the fox’s forelegs with a bark rope and hung him up; thereupon the tears came out of his eyes, his face and—[Here the story ends abruptly.]

43. HINON SAVES A WOMAN FROM SUICIDE

In a certain village a young man and a young woman were married. Soon after their marriage they set out on a hunting expedition. After traveling some distance they came to a dense wood, where they stopped and built a brush lodge. Every morning the young man, leaving his wife at the lodge, always with the warning not to sleep during the day, went out in pursuit of game.

One afternoon, coming back earlier than usual, the young man found her asleep. He saw a great rattlesnake among the skins on which she lay. While trying to pull the snake away, it disappeared into her body through her pudendum. When she awoke the young man, without saying anything of what had occurred, proposed that they should go back to the village, as he was tired of hunting. On reaching home, he told his wife to go her way and he would go his.

Not long after this she married another man. On the following morning her new husband was found dead. She soon married still another man, who was also found dead on the morning after the marriage. Her people then resolved to find out from the first husband why he had put her away. After much persuasion he told them why, saying, “While hunting I often asked her never to sleep in the daytime, but one afternoon on returning to my camp I found her asleep; there was also a rattlesnake in the bed, which, when I tried to drive it away, disappeared into her body.”

The mother of the young woman told her what they had heard from the first husband. She was so ashamed and troubled that she determined to kill herself by going over Niagara Falls. Getting into her canoe a mile or so above the Falls, she pushed out into the middle of the river. The mother followed her, but too late to stop her daughter. As the canoe neared the Falls the latter, lying down and covering her face with her mantle, disappeared over the brink. But Hinon, who dwells under the Falls, taking the young woman from the water, carried her to his home, where he prepared medicine which he gave to her; then, looking at her, he raised her by the shoulders and let her down on her feet. The second time he did this a dead snake dropped out of her person on the ground. Hinon said, “I am glad to see this snake. Now I shall have something to eat.” Roasting the snake on the hot coals of his hearth he ate it.

The young woman lived with Hinon for some time. As she could not eat his food, he often brought ears of corn, saying, “Here is some corn from your mother’s field.” Then he would bring a roasted squash with the words, “I brought this from your mother’s coals,” having taken it from her fireside.

They lived in this way until the woman was far advanced in pregnancy. Then Hinon said to some of his companions, “It is now time to deliver this woman to her mother. You must take her only to her mother’s field.” So, taking her to the field, they left her. Soon she heard some one crying, and then she saw her mother. The mother was frightened, but she stopped crying and called out, “Are you in your natural life?” The young woman assured her that she was, and together they went to the mother’s lodge. Not long after her arrival there the young woman gave birth to a boy.

When the boy was large enough to run around they often heard Hinon coming, and then it would rain very hard. The boy would go out into the storm and he would be gone some time, but when he came back he would be perfectly dry. At last he said, “The next time my father comes I shall go away with him, and not return.” So he went and he was never seen again; but he is always with his father, and it is he who thunders in the sharp voice of a young man.

44. THE CRAWFISH AND THE RACCOON

The chief of the Crawfish settlement one day told his people that he was going about to inspect things and to see if the Ongwe Ias was around.

Starting out, he went to every lodge; he found that every one was in and well. On his way home, as he was walking along the edge of the water he found what he judged to be the body of Ongwe Ias. “Oh! this is good luck,” said he; “I will go and tell all the people to come to see Ongwe Ias lying here dead.” So he invited all to turn out and see their enemy, whom he supposed was dead.

The whole multitude came and saw the Ongwe Ias lying on the ground with his face black and covered with flies. One of them went up and pinched his lips hard, but he did not move. Then saying, “We will sing a song of rejoicing,” they formed in a circle around the Ongwe Ias to dance. While they were dancing and singing, all at once their enemy, the Ongwe Ias, springing up, ate the whole tribe except two or three who escaped. The Ongwe Ias knew the fondness of the Crawfish for dead meat of any kind, so his ruse was successful in providing him with a meal.

45. THE RACE BETWEEN THE TURTLE AND THE BEAR

There was once an old man going along slowly but surely by himself. After traveling some distance he met another man, who asked him, “Where are you going?” “Oh, I am going east to see the people,” the old man replied. “You will never get there; it is so far away, and you are too fat for the road,” answered the stranger. Thereupon they parted company.

Soon the old man met another person, a slender young man, who asked, “Where are you going?” “I am going to the east to see how people live in that region,” answered the old man. “You can not get there; you are too fat, and so you can not travel so far,” said the young man. “How do you keep so fat?” “Well, when I come to a village and find people lying around, I bore a hole in each one I like and suck the fat out; that is the way to get fat,” said the old man. “I must try this plan. I am so lean that I must try to get fat,” said the other.

Each went his own road. Soon the thin man came to an opening, or clearing, in the forest, where he found an animal lying asleep at the edge of the woods. Crawling up to it carefully he tried to make a hole in its body near the tail, in order to suck out the fat. But the animal, springing up, hit him a great blow with his heels and ran off. “I shall pay that old man the next time I meet him,” said the slim man.

Going on farther he met the fat old fellow again. “How do you get so fat?” asked the slim man. “Oh, I do it by eating fish,” said the old man; “I put my tail through a hole in the ice, and when a fish bites I pull him out and eat him. That is how I get fat.” “I will try that plan,” said the slim young man. He went on until he came to where there was a good place to fish. Making a hole in the ice, he stuck his tail through and waited until it was frozen in; then he pulled until his tail came off.

The young man went on his way and was magically changed into another kind of person through losing his tail. He traveled around until the next summer, when again he met the old man. “Where are you going?” he asked of the latter. “I am going east,” said the old man. “You will never get there; you are so fat you can not travel fast enough. You would better run a race with me.” “Very well,” said the fat man; “you may run on land but I will run on water. We will run to-morrow.”

The fat man collected a great number of his people, whom he posted in the river all along the course to the starting place, telling each one to stick up his head when the land runner had come almost up to him. As was customary in the contests of great sorcerers, the wager in this race was the head of the loser.

The racers started. The slim young man ran with all his might, but every little while the fat man, as he thought, stuck his head out of the water in advance of him. When he returned to the starting place the fat man was there before him. “You have won the race,” said the young man. “Of course I have,” said the fat man, and seizing the young fellow by the neck he led him to a stone where he cut off his head.

Then the fat man’s friends, all coming out of the water, went to the starting place. When they looked at the dead land runner they said: “Oh, what a fool! Oh, what a fool!”

Now, the old man, the water runner, was a mud turtle. The land runner was a bear, but he had been a fox until he lost his tail in the ice. Bears are all stub-tailed since the fox lost his tail in the ice.

46. THE WOMAN WHO BECAME A MANEATER THROUGH THE ORENDA OF HER HUSBAND’S DOGS

There was once a man who, in company with his wife and little daughter, went hunting in a distant region. Having arrived at his destination, the man built a brush lodge in the woods. Every day he went in pursuit of game.

The man had three dogs, who were his brothers, and of whom he was fond. He shared his food with them and felt bad if they were ill-used. When he left them at home he always told his wife to feed them well and to take good care of them, but in spite of this she abused the dogs; no matter how long he was away, she would give them nothing to eat. At last, the smallest of the three dogs told the man how badly they were treated, saying, “Our sister-in-law never gives us anything to eat; whatever she cooks, she herself eats; if you will watch her, you will see how it is.” When her husband was around the woman was kind to the dogs in order to deceive him. The little dog, however, told him all that happened in the lodge while he was away hunting.

Now, the little dog was fond of good things; so one night he said to his brothers, “I will get some food without asking, if only you will help me.” He had noticed that the woman kept food for herself, which she hid under the skins on which she slept, and had seen her hide there a skin bag of roasted corn. He said further to his brothers, “You are large and strong and can get it while she is asleep.” “No,” said the large dog; “we are heavy and awkward, and we would only awaken her; but you are light and small, and so can lie down by her without being noticed.” “Very well; I will try,” was the little dog’s answer to this.

So at midnight, when all were sound asleep, the little dog, making his way to the bag of roasted corn hidden under the woman’s head, pulled it carefully until he got it out. The large dogs had drawn the door flap aside for him, and all three, well pleased, ran off toward the spring, where they could obtain water to wash down the roasted corn. The little dog said to one of his brothers, “You can carry the bag now.” In taking it he tore it open, when they found it was merely a pouch of roots, bark, and leaves instead of a bag of corn; so they had got into trouble for nothing. Then the large dog said, “The safest way for us is to carry this bag back, and you who got it must return it.” So, taking it back, the little dog placed it with the torn side down, near the woman’s head. The next morning when the woman shook the skins she found the pouch torn and laid the blame on the mice.

A few days after this the little dog said to the man, “We are going to punish our sister-in-law for the bad treatment she gives us.” The man decided that he would say nothing, and that they might punish her if they wished. The next morning he said to his dogs, “You must stay at home, for I shall be away all night.” After he had gone the woman began cooking, and the little dog watched all her movements. When she took the meat down his mouth watered for a piece of it. The dogs sat around watching her as she cut it up, but she did not give them even a mouthful. It so chanced that she cut her finger badly and was not able to stanch the bleeding. In attempting to do so she even thrust the finger into her mouth and began sucking it. She found that she liked the taste of her own blood, and later even the meat she was cooking did not taste so good. So she sucked all the blood out of that finger; then she cut another finger and sucked that, for she had forgotten all about the cooking. Next she cut one arm and sucked it, then the other; then one leg and then the other. Finally, when she had sucked all the blood out of her body, she cut off her flesh, piece after piece, and ate it. The dogs sat around watching her, and her little girl also was looking on. After she had eaten all her own flesh she seized her daughter and, though the child cried and begged for mercy, the unnatural mother, paying no heed to her pleadings, killed her and ate her.

Then the woman ran off in the direction her husband had taken. Suddenly the hunter heard something behind him. Turning, he saw the little dog, who said to him: “I have come to tell you that your wife has become a man-eater; she has eaten the flesh off her own body and has eaten your child, and is now on your trail. We must run for our lives. We will go to the settlement and you must tell the people to leave the place and run, for one is following us who will devour them all. Those who believe you will escape, but those who do not will die. We must run with all speed, for she is following us fast.”

Now, it was through the orenda of the dogs and their influence that the woman had become a man-eater.

When they reached the settlement, the man told the people of their danger. Some escaped, but the woman quickly ate all who remained. Again she followed on her husband’s trail. The little dog told the man when the woman reached the settlement, and soon after said, “Now do your best, for she is coming with greater speed than before; we are near a large river.” The fugitives reached the river and the man, making a small raft, quickly got on it with his dogs. He was in the middle of the stream when the woman reached the bank and called out, “Your flesh is mine. I am going to eat it.” Thereupon she made a great leap with the intention of landing on the raft, but missing it, she was drowned. After the fugitives had crossed the river and had given thanks for their escape, the little dog said, “We shall soon come to a village, and you must do my bidding.”

When they came to an opening or clearing in the forest they saw near by a wretched-looking lodge, and the little dog said, “We are going there; a couple of poor old people live in that lodge.” On entering, the hunter asked the old man of the lodge whether he could stay with him for a short time. The old man answered: “It is difficult to grant your request. We have as much as we can do to live ourselves.” “It is true,” said the man, “you are very poor; so are we. I am not in search of a good home. I am looking for people in my own circumstances.” “Very well,” said the old man, “you can stay with us, but the chief of the place knows already that you have come; he has great magic power and I am afraid that he will take your life.”

Some time passed. Every night the old man would spend a long time in relating the history of the chief and the people. As the visiting man was a good hunter, he brought in much game and soon the old man’s lodge was full of meat. After a while the old man said, “We have decided to adopt you, and you shall be one of our children.”

The chief knew that there was a stranger in the place, and the old man said: “He will be here in two days; he is coming to see who is with us. He will tell you that he is your uncle, and will challenge you to a foot race. You must ask for two days’ time for preparation.” “Very well,” said the man, and as usual he started off to hunt. His dog seemed to know where all the bears were. When he had killed as many as he wanted he went home. The old man said, “The chief has been here, and he challenges you to a foot race.”

When the time came for the race, the old man and his wife and granddaughter started for the race course. The man had said to him, “I will come as soon as I can make my preparations.” The second dog volunteered to take the man’s place in the race, but the little one said, “You stay at home and I will do the hunting”; and to the man he said, “Take off your garments and let me have them.” When the dog had put on the garments, he looked just like the man. The other dog said to the man, “We will go off hunting while he is doing the running.” The hunter and the dog were very happy, for they knew that their little brother would win the race.

When the people had assembled on the race course and the old man saw his supposed son coming, he said, “See how well our son is prepared for the race.” They saw no difference whatever between the person before them and their adopted son. There were many people present, for the village seemed to be very large. Meanwhile the hunter who had accepted the challenge was off in the woods. One of the dogs said to him, “They are now ready to start. They have started.” Though far off in the woods, the dogs seemed to see everything. All at once they called out: “Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the race. Did we not tell you that he would never be outrun? Now we may as well go home.” So they started homeward. They had been at the lodge but a short time when the runner came in, and, taking off the garments of the hunter, who then put them on again, the three dogs laid down by the fire.

It is said that during the race the chief, seeing that he was outstripped, threw a horn after the dog-man, which stuck into his foot. While the dog-man was trying to pull out the horn, the chief passed him, calling, “What are you doing there? Get up!” By the time the dog-man had drawn the horn out of his foot, his enemy was near the goal. But, springing up, he threw the horn at his enemy; it stuck into the chief’s foot, causing him to fall to the ground. Then the dog-man ran ahead, calling out, “Why do you not get up? You can not sit there and beat me.” But before the chief could pull out the horn, the dog-man had passed the goal.

When the old man came home he said to his son, “I thank you for outrunning your enemy; there has never been anyone to outrun him; all have been beaten. Since the wager was heads, you can take his life whenever you wish.” Then he asked the man whether he had done his best. “No,” said he, “I used about half my strength.” “Very well,” said the old man; “he has another game to propose; he will never stop proposing trials of strength, skill, or speed until he has taken your life. To be beaten this time makes him very angry; in two days he will challenge you to play ball with him.” “All right,” replied the man, “I am ready to meet him.”

In two days they saw the chief coming, and as he entered the lodge, he said: “I am sick for a game of ball, and I challenge you to play a game against me; you won in one game, so now try another. I will wager all I have, and if you win, you shall be chief in my place.” The man replied: “I also am sick from lack of amusement and I accept your challenge. I have never met the man who could beat me in a game of ball. But give me time. You have come unexpectedly, and I must make a ball club.” “Very well,” said the chief, going away.

The bent ball club the hunter hung up to season, and the old man made strings; the next day they netted the club. They were ready just in time to go to the ball ground. The time appointed for the game was at midday, and the old man and woman said, “We shall now start.” “Very well; I shall come soon,” said the adopted son. Then the little dog said, “Let it be our eldest brother who shall take part in this game.” So the man removed his garments, and the dog put them on; there he stood, looking just like the man. The little dog said, “We shall surely win the game.” The hunter and the other dogs went to the woods to hunt, while the dog-man went to the ball ground.

The chief was on the spot watching impatiently for the man. At last he saw him coming, with his long hair tied back; he carried his club well and looked splendid. The old man, supposing it was his son, said: “Now, you must use all your strength and must not be beaten.” The dog-man saw that his antagonist was walking around in the crowd, with a very proud and haughty manner. The dog-man seemed very mild and without strength enough for the game.

Seeing that it was time to begin, the people fell back and gave room to the players. When the word was given the players came forward, and the chief said: “I will take my place on this side.” “No; you shall not,” said the other; “you gave the challenge, and I will choose my place.” The chief had to yield, the dog-man choosing the side the chief wanted. They then began to play. “Now,” said the little dog to the hunter in the woods, “our brother has begun the game, which will be a very close contest.” Soon he said: “The chief’s ball has missed the goal; they play well; our brother has caught and sent the ball back. Oh! now he has won an inning. They will play one more inning.” All at once he called out: “They have begun again. It is a very close game. Our brother is having all he can do. We may be beaten, however.” Then he called out: “Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the game. You are chief, and all the old chief has is ours.”

As the dog-man had won two straight games, he caught the chief by the hair and cut his head off. Many of the people thanked him. They said that the old chief had never spared them; that when he had been the loser he had always given the people up to slaughter and saved his own life. The winner seemed to have won many friends among those who witnessed the game. The little dog said: “Now we shall go home.” They had been there but a short time when the ball player came in; giving back the man’s garments, he immediately became a dog again.

When the old people came into the lodge they thanked their son, saying: “You have done more than anyone else was ever able to do before. You are the chief now.” As they praised their son they did not know that it was a dog that had done the work.

The next morning the little dog said: “Let us go to live in the chief’s lodge.” So the hunter, with the old man and his family, moved into the new lodge. All the old chief’s things had been left in their places, as they were part of the wager. Now, as the dogs were so full of orenda, he became a great chief and had much power and influence among the people.

[The narrator of the foregoing story said: “It is true that whenever a person loves a dog he derives great power from it. Dogs still know all we say, only they are not at liberty to speak. If you do not love a dog, he has power to injure you by his orenda.”]

47. GANYADJIGOWA [85]

There was a man named Ganyadjigowa who lived in a lodge on a bay opening into a lake. One morning he went out in a bark canoe to fish, but catching no fish he came home and put the canoe away. Soon after this he said, “Well, I must go somewhere,” so he walked along the shore of the lake until he came to its outlet, where he saw a lodge, which he entered. Finding no one at home and seeing plenty of meat, he ate what he wanted, and was starting off with a supply when he saw somebody with a big load of meat coming up from the lake. This was an old man named Twentgowa. They met and greeted each other, Ganyadjigowa saying, “I came to visit you; I have been in your lodge.” “Well, come back with me,” said Twentgowa.[86] “No, I must go on,” said Ganyadjigowa. “Come again,” said Twentgowa.

Ganyadjigowa did not go back, because he had stolen some of the meat. He swam across the outlet of the lake, and, keeping along the bank, he soon saw another lodge. Peeping into it he saw a large family—two old people and their children; these were Hongak people. After standing a while he thought, “I will go in,” and he did so. The inmates greeted him with, “Where do you come from?” “From the other side of the lake,” answered Ganyadjigowa. “What do you come for?” they asked him. “Oh! to look around; it is so pleasant to-day,” Ganyadjigowa replied. “How far will you go?” he was asked. “Around the lake,” he answered.

The two men became good friends. Then Hongak [87] said, “I must go with you, my friend.” “Very well,” said Ganyadjigowa, and they started along the shore. At midday they came to the mouth of a river and Ganyadjigowa asked, “How can we cross the river?” “Let us swim,” said Hongak; “I suppose you know how to swim.” “Very well, indeed,” said Ganyadjigowa. So they swam across the river and then walked on till they saw a rock, then many rocks. As they went along the path grew narrower and narrower. Hongak was ahead. Ganyadjigowa picked up a stone, and tying a bark string around it hung it on Hongak’s back, so that he could not walk, for he kept slipping back. Ganyadjigowa said to him, “Go on! I am in a hurry. I want to get home before dark.” “Let me go, then,” said Hongak; “do not pull me back.” “I am not pulling you back,” replied Ganyadjigowa; “I will go ahead if you like. Wait and I will pass you.”

When Ganyadjigowa got ahead, he said, “Now, come on!” Hongak could not go, for he was unable to walk. Ganyadjigowa went on, leaving him behind. The path grew narrower and narrower until he came to a place where there was not room to walk, and he thought, “How am I to get by these rocks?” The name of this place was Heiosdenoon (“the rocks go to the water”).

Here Ganyadjigowa resolved to go back, but there was not room to turn around. Then he said, “I must go backward.” After a few steps in this way, he fell into the water and went under. When he thought he was past the rocks he came out of the water and walked on again. The sun was near the horizon and he thought, “When shall I get home?” It was soon dark. Finding a hollow tree, he crawled into it.

Not long after this Ganyadjigowa heard footsteps in the leaves outside. The sound stopped at the tree. Ganyadjigowa kept very still. A voice said, “Well, you are sleeping in here?” “Yes; I am,” replied Ganyadjigowa. “I want you to come out and talk with me,” was the challenge. Ganyadjigowa crawled out. There stood Hongak, the man he had left behind. “Well,” Hongak asked, “do you know who I am?” “Why are you angry? I thought you wanted to stay. I urged you to come but you would not,” said Ganyadjigowa. Hongak said: “No. You did something to make me stop. Look at my back.” The feathers were all off where the stone had been secured.

Now Hongak began to fight with Ganyadjigowa, who soon ran away, for he did not want to fight. Speedily overtaking him, Hongak began to fight again. Ganyadjigowa now grew angry. They fought till dark the next day. “Let us rest,” said Ganyadjigowa. “Well, you stay here; I will be back to-morrow,” said Hongak. As soon as Hongak was out of sight Ganyadjigowa ran away. Coming to a river he decided to try to swim, but the water ran too swiftly. He was carried downstream into rough water, where he could not help himself. In the water was a stone against which he was driven; he thought, “Now I am going to die.” He was on the stone all night.

Hongak came back in the morning and, not finding his enemy, tracked him to the water. Then, saying, “I will catch him,” he went into the water and tried to swim. But the water ran so fast that it carried him down to the stone where Ganyadjigowa was. Hongak said, “I am going to die this time.” Ganyadjigowa heard someone talking, and he knew who it was. Now he tried to get away. After struggling a long time he freed himself and came to shore. Hongak became filled with water and died. Then his body floated to shore, whereupon Ganyadjigowa said: “Oh! there is my friend. Did he think he could kill me? I have more orenda than he had.” Traveling on, Ganyadjigowa soon got home.

One night he dreamed he was on the way to the west. Coming to a large opening and looking around, he saw a Ganiagwaihe approaching from the southeast. He thought, “I am going to die. That bear will eat me.” It came nearer and nearer. He went back and farther back. Soon from the northwest came a Djainosgowa.[88] Ganyadjigowa continued going backward as fast as he could. At last the two animals met and began to fight. He stood and watched them, wondering which would overcome his antagonist. As they fought they drew near him. He began to go backward again until he fell into a hole in the ground, with the two animals on him. Then he screamed: “Hurry up! Help me! I am going to die under these terrible creatures.” Awaking, he found himself alone with his skin blankets wrapped around him; he had rolled off his couch to the floor. He said, “What a bad dream I have had!”

Falling asleep again, again he dreamed of the same creatures, but thought they were in the woods and belonged to him. He made them stand near each other, and, laying a stick across them, he sat on it. Then he told the animals to go westward; they did so, whereupon he said, “Oh, this is fun.” They reached the end of the earth very quickly. Then he jumped off, saying, “Stay here until I come back.” He went south till he found a lodge; going in, he saw a fine-looking old man. “I have come to see you; I am traveling around the earth,” said Ganyadjigowa. “Where do you come from?” asked the old man. “I came from the Great Lake,” replied Ganyadjigowa. “What do you travel for?” queried the old man. “Oh, just to see how the earth is and what people are living on it,” said Ganyadjigowa. “What is your name?” asked the old man. “My name is Ganyadjigowa,” was the young man’s reply. “What is yours?” “My name is Djothowandon.[89] My master lives not far away. You must see him before you visit me,” was the old man’s reply.

Going in the direction pointed out, Ganyadjigowa came to a lodge standing on a big rock. He stood by the rock, thinking, “How am I going to get up there?” Then he saw a narrow ledge running around and around; following this, he came to the lodge. On looking about he saw an old man sitting by the fire. They greeted each other, the old man saying, “Why did you come here?” “Just to see all the world,” said Ganyadjigowa. “Where do you come from?” said the old man. “I came from the Great Lake,” said Ganyadjigowa. “What is your name?” continued the occupant of the lodge. “Ganyadjigowa,” the young man declared. “What is yours?” Ganyadjigowa asked in turn. “I am called Dagwanoenyent,” said the old man. Then Ganyadjigowa said, “Will you let me visit you?” “Oh, yes! you can stay with me as long as you like,” said the old man. “I will stay several days,” said the visitor.

One morning Dagwanoenyent asked, “Would you like to go down to see my servant?” “Yes; I should like to go,” said Ganyadjigowa. They soon came to Djothowandon’s lodge, when Dagwanoenyent said, “This is my servant’s lodge. Let us go in.” On going in Dagwanoenyent said, “My servant is not at home. I believe he has gone to the southern end of the world.” Dagwanoenyent said, “A very cross people live there. My servant is trying to make them peaceful.” “Now you would better go home. Something will come and chase you if you are down here at midday,” said the old man. “Very well,” said Ganyadjigowa, starting after his animals.

Soon, on seeing Dahdahwat [90] approaching, Ganyadjigowa tried to hide, but he could find no place of concealment. Dahdahwat chased him, and, seizing him, threw him down and began to bite him. Ganyadjigowa could not get away. He tried so hard that the sweat came out like rain. Then he awoke. He was all wet and the sun was pouring in on him. He felt sad and worried about his dreams. About noon, becoming hungry, he said, “I must take my canoe and try to catch some fish.” He went far out into the lake, keeping a sharp lookout for fish. Seeing one, he jumped overboard after it, but could not find it. On seeing another he dived again—once more, no fish. He looked down again. Yes; there it was. He looked and looked. Then he found that there was a fish on the right side of his canoe, the shadow of which was visible down in the water. He caught the fish, and after eating it started to go home, but he was far out in the lake and did not know which way he had come. He made way very fast, however, in the right direction, as he thought, and reached the shore, but saw no lodge.