Chapter XX: Part 2: also consists of Seneca legends and myths, which are (15)

Soon the uncle appeared on the opposite bank, running back and forth searching everywhere. Feeling sure that they had crossed, he called out, “Daughter-in-law! daughter-in-law! how did you cross the lake?” As he labored up and down the woman stood watching him from the other bank. Taking pity on the weary old man, though knowing he wished to devour her, she said in her mind (she did not speak), “Why does he not throw the shell?” [131] As she thought this, he heard distinctly what she said in her mind. So he stooped, and picking up a shell, threw it. The banks came together, and when she looked to see where he was, she was terrified to find him at her heels. Catching her by the hair, he said: “I knew that I should eat you.132 My nephew had no right to keep the game from me. He took my game and held it as his wife.” With one blow the old man cut her head off. She had been left alone, as her husband was hunting, and the invisible brother was not near to warn her, so she was lost.

The lake had now expanded to its proper width. Taking off her raiment, the old man threw it into his nephew’s lodge, saying, “Be you a helpmate to my nephew.” He then cut the body open, finding that it contained twins. He hid the children with the head and breast of the mother in a hollow tree, and gave thanks that his nephew had preserved the game so long, for he would have a second meal at another time. After washing the bloodstains from the body in the lake he put the body on his back and then threw the shell. When the banks closed together, he stepped over, and as he looked back, he saw the lake spread out again.

On coming home soon after, the nephew expected to see smoke rising from his lodge, but saw none. “There! my word has come true; she has forgotten my warning.” Looking around, he saw his uncle’s tracks, whereupon he said, “Such is my luck. I can not help it.” Then he began to cook his meal. Shortly he discovered his wife’s clothing. Having become accustomed to his uncle’s behavior, he was not much astonished, nor did he feel very badly because his uncle had now killed his fourth wife. While cooking supper he had to go for water. As he stooped down to get it, he heard a voice say, “Your uncle has killed me. Your uncle has killed me, has killed me.” On looking toward the willows out of which the voice came, he saw them bespattered with his wife’s blood, whereupon he knew that she had been murdered. He had two proofs now—his uncle’s tracks and the speaking blood. Becoming disheartened, he decided never to go back to his uncle’s lodge. He continued hunting with two dogs, and being successful, took pleasure in doing this. On returning to camp one day he discovered tracks around his fire—two little trails. For some time he paid no attention to these, though he found them whenever he came home. They looked like children’s tracks, but he could not believe they were such, thinking that perhaps some little animal had gotten into the lodge. At last, looking at his store of meat, he saw that one of the pieces was gone from the row; he thought some animal must have taken it. Things continued in this way until finally the meat was carried away at such a rate that he resolved to find out what was going on at home. The next day still more meat was taken. He found that the stolen piece had struck the ground, and having been dragged out of doors, had been drawn along. He followed the trail until he came to a big hollow log, at the opening in which the trail disappeared. While sure that some animal lived in the tree, he made no further discovery.

The next day the nephew started off to hunt, but after going a short distance into the woods, he stopped to watch his lodge. Looking down from a hill near by, he saw two little children run into the lodge. Thereupon, hurrying back, he continued his watch. He soon saw them come out, dragging a piece of meat. (They used to go to where the meat was hanging, and climbing up as best they could, throw it to the ground.) They had all they could drag, for two pieces were tied together. Going straight to the farther end of the log, they disappeared, dragging the meat after them. He thought, “Tomorrow I will catch them.” He had learned that they could talk, for as they pulled the meat along, he heard one say, “Hurry up; father will soon come.”

The next morning, after going a short distance, he hid himself and waited. The time seemed long. At last the children came from the log, and entering the lodge, closed the door. Then the father ran up and went in himself, fastening the door after him. The moment the children saw him, they began to cry. “Why do you cry,” he asked, “I am your father. Do not cry.” At this they stopped crying. Then he said, “You will stay here with me.” As he had overheard them calling him father, he asked, “How do you know that I am your father?” As he questioned them, sitting by the fire, he on one side and the two children together on the other, one of them, who was slightly larger than the other, said: “Your uncle came over here and killed our mother, cutting off her head and her breasts. Then he threw her intestines into a hollow log. We were among the intestines, and as the breasts were there, we drew milk from them and so were able to live. Her head is there with us now. As the boy answered readily, the father asked him what they did with the meat they took from the lodge. “We come,” said the boy, “to get the meat to feed our mother.” The father said, “You must now live with me.” He then made little ball clubs and a ball for them to play with in the dooryard; he was so kind that they were willing to stay.

Whenever their father went hunting they would go and feed their mother. Once when the father came home, one of the boys said to him, “Our mother is very hungry, for we have not fed her today.” The father replied: “Feed her; give her all she will take. I have no objection. As you know, we always have plenty of meat, so you may take as much as you please to feed your mother.” He was very kind to the children, because he loved them, and to keep them from running away, he let them do as they liked with what was in the lodge. He soon discovered, however, that his stock of meat was disappearing very fast, faster than he could bring in more. This continued until he began to feel discouraged and frightened. The boy said to his father when the latter returned one day, “My mother eats all the time,” telling how much she ate, and asked his father to go and see her. The father went to the tree with the boys, and on looking in, saw two great eyes in a skull from which the teeth were projecting and the flesh had disappeared, and the bones of which were somewhat bruised.

The boys asked, “Now, father, what do you think?” “I am afraid,” he answered, “that after she has eaten all our meat she will eat us.”

“Let us go to some other part of the world, so she will have to travel far to overtake us,” said one of the boys; “we can not feed her any longer, for she never gets enough now, and we are tired.” The man saw that, do what they might, she would not be satisfied. The boys said, “We will go away first if you like.” The father answered: “You may go. Your mother has become a man-eater. You may escape.” The next morning the boys started westward with the dogs. The father said he would not go just then, but that he would follow. He had to go in another direction and therefore would go southward first. When the children were a short distance from the lodge the dogs looked at them, and thinking how hard it was for them to trudge along, the larger dog said to the larger boy, “Come! get on my back;” and the smaller dog said to the smaller boy, “Come! get on my back.” Both mounting the dogs, away they went. The dogs ran so swiftly that the hair of the boys’ heads streamed backward, and they enjoyed the ride so much that the woods were full of their laughter. After they had gone a long distance, for the dogs went like the wind, they saw traces of human beings. There were places where the trees had been cut down. The dogs said, “Now you would better slip off and go on foot to the settlement.” The boys were unwilling to go, but the dogs were determined, and shaking themselves, as if they had just been in water, the children tumbled off. Telling the children again to go on to the settlement, the dogs went back to their master. He had told them that he would leave in two days, for then the Head would come out of the tree and go into the lodge; then climbing up to the place where the meat was kept, the Head would eat it all.

The boys had told their father that by going southward he would find uncles who might help him escape, for they were just such powerful men as his old uncle was. When the dogs got back to their master they said that he must make every effort he could to escape; that they would remain until the last piece of meat was gone, but that he must go at once. The lives of all were in danger, for when the meat was all eaten the Head would fly in the direction of her people, although they (the dogs) would stay and detain the Head as long as possible. “In three days all the meat will be devoured: flee for your life; go south toward your other uncles, for she will follow you,” the dogs said.

The man did as the dogs advised, starting off southward and going with great speed, for he was a good runner. Two days after he had left home one of the dogs overtook him and said: “The meat is all gone and she is now trying to find the trail of her children. She can follow it as far as they walked, but no farther, for we took them on our backs at a certain distance from the lodge and carried them far away. They are now in the west. Be on your guard. She will soon strike your trail and pursue you. Follow me! The Head is very angry.” As the dog looked back he said: “The Head has started and is coming. We have never seen so great witchcraft as she has, although we have seen much, but this we are not able to comprehend. As you have always said, there is no one living who can outrun you; now use all your strength.”

When the Head started, the dogs left behind did all they could to delay her, biting her whenever she turned to pursue them, and dodging into the ground. As the Head went on again they would spring at her; and when she turned on them they would again escape into the ground. Her track could be seen plainly, for the bark was all bitten from the trees, where the dogs kept her back and prevented her from flying ahead.

All at once, one of the little boys, far off in the west, said to his brother, “Our father is to be pitied; our mother has turned into some strange being and is pursuing him.” Soon a second dog came up to the man, saying, “Your wife has changed into a Flying Head and is possessed of such power that we do not know how to detain her any longer. My brother dog and I are doing all we can, but you must hurry; you must keep straight ahead. Go always toward the south.” The man ran with all his might. Seeing a lodge at a distance he ran up to it, and entering, said to an old man sitting there: “Uncle, help me! Something is after me that is going to take my life. Help me!” “All right. Although I do not know what it is, I will help you all I can; but hurry on to the next lodge; there you will find your aunts,” replied the old man. The man had got about halfway between the two lodges when he heard a terrible noise. Looking back, he saw that the Flying Head had reached his uncle’s lodge, and that they were fighting with all their strength. There was a terrible struggle about the lodge. Soon he saw that his uncle was killed, and that a great black cloud rose up into the sky from the spot.[133] The uncle had told his nephew that after the Head had killed him a dark cloud would go up to the very heavens. At that moment the dog came up again, saying, “Your uncle is killed; he was never beaten before in his life.” When she had killed his uncle the Head rushed after the husband, for she had eaten every bit of the uncle’s flesh in a moment. “Hurry!” said the dog; “we are sure to die; we have but two places of refuge left, it is through your uncle who killed her that she has become a witch.”

As the man ran on, nearly exhausted, he saw a lodge, and running into it, he called to his aunts, “Help me! Help me! Something is after me to take my life.” “Poor man,” said his aunts, “hurry on; we will do what we can to delay the Head. Go to the next lodge, where your mothers live; if we can not detain her, perhaps they will be able to help you.” He was not out of sight when he heard his aunts call to their children to have courage, and then he heard a great tumult. When the Head flew into the lodge, it bit at everything with which it came in contact, tearing it to pieces. The women attacked the Head with clubs, and there came to his ears the sound of the blows of the clubs on the skull. When halfway to the other place, all was still at his aunts’ lodge.

Suddenly he heard his brother calling out, “Run! or we are lost.” The invisible brother who urged him forward pushed him by the neck whenever he was near, and then they seemed to run faster. They were in a great hurry to reach the lodge, and he pushed him on until they were there. Thereupon the man called on his mothers, saying, “Mothers, help me! help me!” “Oh, poor son! you are in trouble; go on—we will do what we can.” He hurried through the lodge. The Head came in as he went out, and the dog, running around the lodge, urged him on. The brother was invisible when they passed through the lodge. The mothers called out to all their children, “Kill the Head if you can!” All got their most deadly and potent weapons, and the two brothers heard the old mothers urge their children to fight with all their strength. The dogs remained outside the door, ready to fly at the Head when she came out. One of the women stumbled and fell, whereupon the Head, after catching and hurling her out, devoured her in an instant.

The old mothers now cautioned their children again to take great care and make no missteps. Now the youngest one thought of some bear’s fat they had in the lodge, and the idea came to her that the only way they could kill the Head was by use of this. After the Head had eaten the first girl and was chasing the others through the lodge the bear’s oil began to boil.[134] As they threw the boiling oil, it singed and burned the Head, killing it (the animated Head was merely the skull with long projecting teeth).

All wishing to give thanks, the mothers said: “We ought to have a game of ball. Your brother is free. It is our duty to give thanks. The ball shall be this Head.” Picking up the Head, she carried it out, calling in a loud voice, “Here, warriors! is a ball you can have to play with.” Soon a great crowd of people came together with their netted clubs and began to play. All the players were wild beasts of the woods. The man stood near and saw the wild beasts playing ball with his wife’s head. All tried to get the ball, and in this way they wore it out.

The dog now came up to his master and told him that his wife was dead; and when it said “Your wife is dead,” his strength seemed to leave him; his arms dropped down, and he was sad. The invisible brother said: “You feel grieved; for my part I am glad. I do not see why you should be sad; she would have devoured you if they had not killed her. Now there is nothing to harm us. Your old uncle has gone back to his own home and will not trouble us now that he has eaten your wife’s flesh.” He added: “Your children are living in this direction (pointing westward); be of good courage, and go after them. I shall return. You will continue in one direction with your dogs until you reach the boys. You need never fear to suffer such hardships again.” So saying, he went home, and when the brother looked after him he had disappeared.

The man and his dogs went toward the west. The dogs had left the children in a place near a village where an old woman lived with her granddaughter. While the young girl was in the woods gathering fuel she heard the sound of voices. On listening, as the wind came directly to her, she discovered that they were human voices, and thought, “I will ask grandmother what to do.” When she reached home with her wood she told the old woman that she had heard children crying and asked her to go to the woods to hear for herself. The old woman asked: “In what direction were the voices? It is a pleasure to know that there are children yet alive; they must be for us.” They went to the place. “Now listen!” said the girl. “True,” said the grandmother. “Look everywhere and find these children; they may be sent to us, as we are alone.” The girl followed the sound, which she could hear distinctly as coming from the ground. She kept on until she found the two children, seemingly a year old, one slightly larger than the other. Going up to them she told them to stop crying; that she would be their mother. As she stood there talking her grandmother came, who pitied the children; she found that they were clothed with skins. The grandmother said: “Now stop crying. You shall be our children. I will be your grandmother and my granddaughter will be your mother.” The girl added: “All we have shall be yours. I will love you as a mother.” The boys stopped crying. Each had his little bow and arrows and ball club. The children went home with the women. The old woman said: “We will take care of these children. There are many people in the village, but not a child among them all. I lived here a long time, but have never seen a little child.” The children soon seemed larger and sometimes would go to hunt birds. They were never gone long at a time, and never went out of sight of the lodge. “Grandmother,” called one of the boys one day, “come and see what we have killed; it is all spotted and lies yonder in the weeds.” “Where is it? Where is it?” she asked. The boys led the way, but she could hardly keep in sight of them, as the weeds were tall. On reaching the spot she found a fawn, a few hours old, which they had killed. She carried it home, saying to herself: “I am thankful to have these children; they will be great hunters in time; their game is getting larger. First they kill birds, now a fawn.” When they did not feel like hunting they would play out near the lodge and then go in and sit down.

One day one of the boys said, “Our father is coming.” The other said, “I hardly think our father is alive.” The old grandmother overhearing this, told the boys to go out and shoot birds, for she wanted some to roast and eat. The next day while the children were out a man came into the lodge. The invisible brother had told him where he would find his children, and that he must say when he came to the old woman’s lodge, “Grandmother, I am thankful to see you,” and to the girl, “Sister, I am very glad to see you.” As he went in he saw the old woman and saluted her as grandmother; to the girl he said, “Sister.” One of the boys outside said, “Our father has come.” The other replied: “I do not believe this is he, for our father had two dogs. There are no dogs with this man.” As the boy was bound to know, raising the doorflap slightly, he saw his father sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Noticing a red spot on his jaw, the boy said further: “Look for yourself; see, he has a mark on his face; it is really he. Let us go and see which way he came; we can tell his trail, and we will follow it and see whether we can find the dogs.”

They had gone but a short distance when they found that the dogs had gone in another direction, whereupon one of the boys said: “Let us follow their tracks; father loves those dogs; let us find them.” In the evening they found one dog sitting on a fallen tree. The larger boy said: “There sits one of the dogs.” “Let us go and see if it is really father’s dog,” said the other. On hearing the children’s voices the dogs were as much pleased to see them as the boys were to see the dogs. The boys now said, “Let us all go home.” The boys did not know the way, however, so the dogs took the lead. It was late at night and very dark, and the people at home were frightened and very anxious about the children, not knowing where to look for them. When the boys came back, the grandmother asked: “Why were you gone so long? Why did you frighten us so?” “We were looking for our father’s dogs,” said they. Thereupon they went into the lodge, the dogs following. The man was lying down, so all went to sleep. All were now together again.

The young woman was the man’s own sister and the grandmother was his grandmother. They all lived very happily together. And this is the story.

58. DOONONGAES [135] AND TSODIQGWADON

Doonongaes, who lived at one end of Ganyodaes,[136] or Long Lake, had such orenda (magic power) that no one in that region could influence or control him. He claimed the lake and all that lived in its waters.

Doonongaes had a servant, Skahnowa,[137] who lived at the other end of Ganyodaes, which was so long that one end of it could not be seen from the other. Skahnowa’s work was to patrol the lake and keep off intruders. One morning early he jumped up, saying, “I must be on my rounds, for if I do not I shall be punished.” So he hurried along the shore; soon he saw some one with a pole, evidently fishing. Skahnowa approached and, seeing him eating a fish, he asked, “What are you doing here?” “Oh! there is a great deal of fungus138 growing on the hickory trees here,” replied the intruder. “If you are getting fungus from the trees, why do you go to the water?” asked Skahnowa. “You see,” said the man, who was Djidjogwen,139 “the fungus is sandy and I go to the lake to wash it.” “Well,” said Skahnowa: “I think you have stolen something, and you better give up one of your own people as a gift in payment140 for what you have taken. The owner of this lake will come soon and he will settle with you. I am going on.” Djidjogwen stood on the bank and kept thinking: “Can this be true? It is very strange if it be true that one person owns this lake.” Going to his master, Skahnowa said: “I have news for you. There is a man yonder at Dediosteniagon141 who is getting fish out of the water very fast.” “I will stop him. I like to amuse myself in this way,” said Doonongaes, who got his kettle ready at once and, taking his club, started for the place.

Skahnowa continued his journey around the lake. When Doonongaes came in sight of Dediosteniagon, looking around carefully, he saw a man [142] some distance off. “Oh! that is the one,” thought he, and diving under the water he came out right in front of Djidjogwen, who had pulled out a great fish a moment before. “What are you doing?” asked Doonongaes. “What business have you to meddle with my game animals?” “Oh! you are mistaken. I am not meddling with them. I am merely eating the fungus143 that grows around here,” replied Djidjogwen. “Then how came that fish here?” asked Doonongaes. “As I stood here a small bird flew along above the water, and a fish, leaping up to catch the bird, perhaps, jumped out here on the shore,” said Djidjogwen. “Oh! that is not true; I will punish you,” snapped Doonongaes. Djidjogwen started to run. Doonongaes followed and, striking him on the head with his club, killed him, remarking, “That is the way I treat intruders on Ganyodaes.” He then threw the body of the dead man over his shoulder and, after reaching home, cooked his flesh. When the flesh was cool he ate the meat, which he enjoyed much, and thanked Skahnowa for what he had done.

One morning Doonongaes said to his servant: “I am going on a long journey, and I want you to be faithful in the performance of your duty. If you find a trespasser, kill and eat him.” “Very well,” replied Skahnowa, “it shall be done as you say.”

Doonongaes went westward, traveling day and night for a month. He traveled till he came to a broad opening.[144] In the middle of the opening he saw a lodge, which he could not reach without being seen. “Very well,” thought he, “I will go underground.” He went into the ground, and going forward until he thought he was at the right place he came out. Peeping through a crack in the lodge wall, he heard singing, and saw that there were two very old women inside. The words of the song were, Onen waongiʹons ne ganio.145 “That does not sound well,” thought Doonongaes; “I may get killed here. I will see whether I can not steal this lodge.” So he pushed his horns under the lodge; then lifting it on his head, he rushed away, carrying it on his horns. He came very soon to the edge of the woods and ran into it. Finally he heard a noise in the lodge. “Well,” said a voice, “it seems to me that there is a terrible wind blowing.” (He went at such speed as to give the impression of wind blowing past the lodge.) The other woman said: “You must do all you can to stop it. Let us stand, you in one corner and I in the other and sing our wind song.” Taking their places, they said: “We beg you who have care of us to stop this wind. Our lodge is so small that we are afraid it will blow away.” Then they sang Gaintho, Gaintho.146 One of them, seeing the lodge moving, called out, “Hwu,147 our lodge is moving.” “Well,” said the other, “maybe Doonongaes has come; he always troubles poor people; hurry up, go out and see.” So she went out through the smoke-hole, and, looking around, saw that they were far out in the dense woods. On taking an observation to see whither the wind was going, she saw a long black body moving, and she saw that their lodge was on it. Going in, she said, “As I looked down the wind I saw a very black thing, which was so long that I could not see the end of it.” “It is just as I said to you,” said the other woman; “this is Doonongaes, who is making sport of us. Now, do your best to punish him.”

These two old women, who were Gwidogwido [148] people, and sisters, were possessed of such very powerful orenda (magic power) that it was hard to conquer them by sorcery. Taking their clubs, therefore, they went out of the smoke-hole. Then the elder of the two said: “Go to the end of his tail; something is sticking out there. Strike it, and I will try to cut its head off.” While the younger sister went to the tail, the elder went to the neck joint. The younger sister, seeing objects which resembled fins sticking out, began to pound these; soon she saw that she was driving them in. “What shall I do,” thought she; “my sister said these things would crumble to pieces.” She kept on pounding, however, until she saw that something like milk began to come out. She stopped striking them, whereupon the milklike fluid turned into foam and came out stronger and stronger. At last, becoming frightened, she ran to her sister, whom she found lying down, doing nothing. She said, “Oh! my sister, what is the matter?” “Oh!” said the elder, “I can not do anything; he has overpowered me by his orenda (magic power); do the best you can.” The younger, driving their flint knife into the neck joint, began to hammer it; finally the knife went out of sight. Then she asked her sister, “What shall we do now?” “Our only safety is to run away,” was the answer. The younger sister, going down the smoke-hole, got a narrow strip of the skin of Djainosgowa. This was the container of their magic power, or fetish. Coming back to her sister, she said, “Now I am ready.” The elder answered: “Take hold of one end of the skin and I will take the other. Then let us run to the end of Doonongaes’ tail, where we will jump off and get away as fast as we can.” It was a good while before they came to the end of the tail. Then jumping off, they hurried along, not on the straight trail but somewhat to one side of it.

Doonongaes, who was running all this time with great speed, said at last, “I do not hear anyone talking.” Then his neck began to feel tired, and he said, “This lodge wearies me,” and jerking his head, off went the lodge, falling some distance away. On going up to it he found it empty. “Very well. We shall soon see about this,” thought he: “No one has ever been able to get away from me. I will put these two out of the way.” Thereupon he ran back as fast as he could, saying, “When could they have escaped? Oh! my neck is sore.” As he went he snuffed the air to find the women. Halting and looking around he saw tracks where they had jumped from his tail, for the earth was torn up. “Ha, ha! you think you are going to escape me,” he said, starting with lightning speed on their track. He ran until night. Toward morning he said: “The pain in my neck is increasing. I wonder if I should better go back. No; I can not give up this chase. I have always thought I could allow no one to overpower me, so I will keep on.” At midday he came to the end of the women’s trail, and could track them no farther. Now, he thought, “What shall I do, for I am determined to put them out of the world?”

Standing up, he became taller and taller until at last he stood on the tip of his tail with his head high in the air. He saw a smoke far off on one side, so he came down and shot off in that direction, reaching the place in a few moments. Halting by the lodge, he thought: “I hear some one inside. Very likely magically powerful people live here.” On peeping in, he saw a very old man sitting down smoking, with his head bowed. Doonongaes watched him for some time; at last the old man, looking up, said: “Hwu, my nephew has come! Well, nephew come in. Why do you stand outside?” “This is my uncle’s lodge; it seems he knows me,” thought Doonongaes; so he went in. “Well, nephew,” said the old man, “I am glad to see you. I have been expecting you for a long time.” “Well, I have come. What do you want?” said Doonongaes. “Oh! you and I will fight against each other,” replied the old man. “That suits me exactly,” answered Doonongaes; “it is the very game I amuse myself with.” “We will wait until noon tomorrow, when the fight will begin; you can stay here with me until then,” said the old man. This old man was the grandfather of the two women who were trying to escape. His name was Gwidogwido. The next day the old man said, “Now, let us go.” They went through the woods until they came to an opening, whereupon the old man said, “Here is where I always fight.” Seeing the ground was covered with bones, Doonongaes became greatly frightened and asked, “Is there not some way to annul our pact, for I want to continue my journey?” “No,” replied the old man, “we have agreed to it.” “What would happen if I should refuse to play?” said Doonongaes. “Well, if you do not want to fight, give yourself up to me, and I will do what I like with you,” answered the old man. “If I do that I suppose you will kill me; so we may as well fight,” replied Doonongaes.

Thereupon the fight began. Doonongaes had a basswood club, while the old man had a mallet. As they fought they moved around the opening until they came to the farther end, striking at each other all the time. At the end of the clearing they began to tear up trees, which they hurled at one another. They opened a broad road through the forest, uprooting the trees as they fought. They advanced until they came to another clearing, at the farther end of which they saw a village. Doonongaes now got another basswood club, for they had thrown away their weapons when they began to hurl trees. The old man had to defend himself with his hands and arms until they reached the village. There he picked up a lodge, which he threw at Doonongaes, whereupon Doonongaes threw another lodge at the old man. Thus they continued throwing lodges as they went along, until a great cry was raised by the people as they saw their lodges smashed on the heads of the combatants, and so all attacked the two men.

The people of the village were Djihonsdonqgwen [149] people, who were great fighters. They determined to punish the two men, so with their flint knives they killed the old man Gwidogwido, but Doonongaes ran out of sight, shouting, “I have always said that nobody could conquer me.” He added: “It seems to me that there is something in my neck. Can it be that a limb fell on it, and a splinter stuck into my neck?”

Doonongaes went on until he came to a new lodge. “Perhaps,” thought he, “another uncle of mine lives here. I will have a look.” Peeping through a crack, he saw two little boys playing with a man’s head, and heads all around the lodge with flesh on them. He wondered where the boys got these for they were too small to go out to hunt. “Perhaps they will be able to cut my head off,” thought he, running away. A few moments later one of the boys said to the other, “Did not you think some game came to the lodge just now?” “Yes,” replied the other. “Well, let us hurry out; we will soon bring it back,” said the other. Taking their knives, they ran out and around the lodge. Seeing the trail, they ran along it until they were at Doonongaes’s heels. When he turned and saw the two boys behind him, each with an uplifted knife ready to strike, he seized the first boy and threw his knife away. Then he did the same with the other boy, and putting a boy under each arm, he hurried on. As he went along, he saw a high precipice, whereupon he said, “Perhaps I had better throw these boys over, for they annoy me.” After throwing them over the precipice, he walked on. Presently he heard “Tcu! Tcu! that man walking over there falls (is about to fall).” Doonongaes turned around to see where the voice came from, with the remark, “This sounds as though they meant me.” He stood looking around; soon he heard some one laughing, and saw a man high up on the cliff. “It is absurd that he should make sport of me,” said Doonongaes; “I will punish him.” Doonongaes hurried toward the man, who was ahead. When he came to the spot where he thought the man was, he could not find him, and could see no one. Soon he saw far ahead the man peep from behind a tree, then dart back and peep out again. Doonongaes ran to the tree, and going around it, said, “Now, I will punish you, you scoundrel”; but he found no one there. He looked everywhere. At last he saw another tree far ahead with the man peeping from behind it. He hurried to the place, saying as he ran after the man around the tree, “I have caught you”; but when he got around, he could see no one. “This is provoking,” said Doonongaes, “he is making sport of me; I must punish him without fail.”

Doonongaes sat down under the tree to rest from the chase and closed his eyes; in a little while he was sound asleep. The man came back and, seeing Doonongaes asleep, said, “I thought this man said he was going to beat me.” As he stood looking at Doonongaes he resolved to kill him. Taking out a flint knife he cut his throat. At first foam came from the cut but no blood; then it seemed as if Doonongaes blew a great breath, whereupon out came the blood streaming in every direction. Then Doonongaes died. “I did not have much trouble,” thought the murderer, who was one of the Djoñiaik [150] people, “though he called himself powerful”; and sitting on the tree above the body he continued to laugh.

When Doonongaes was killed his blood ran down the precipice. The people who lived in the ravine below said they saw it. “This looks like the blood of our people, like the blood of our great chief.” They all gathered at the place where the blood was coming, and one of the tallest men said, “I will try to look over.” He stretched himself up, but could see nothing except the bare cliff. Then another man got on his shoulders, a third on the shoulder of the second, another and another doing likewise until in this way they reached the top. Djoñiaik saw men coming, and noticing that they were the same kind of people as Doonongaes, he said, “They are so many I will run away.” So, slipping down from the tree, he was off.

The men looked around—there lay the great chief of their people. One of them, who became chief for the time, said: “Every one of us must do his best (in the exercise of orenda). We will try to make him alive again. Let two of you build a very large fire and two of you go to the end of a lake for a thing that has been of great aid to our people—the white pebble. Go quickly; and two more go to Doonongaes’s lodge at the end of Ganyodaes, to get his fisher-skin pouch and bring it here; and two of you go to the end of the earth and notify our grandfather, who lives there. Tell him what has happened and find out what he thinks about it. Let two go to the place where the rocks are the highest in the world, for in that place lives a man who is master of the thing that has the greatest power in the world. Let two get on the trail of the man who killed our chief, Doonongaes; when they overtake him, let them kill him if necessary, but if not let them bring him here and we will do what we like with him.” In a short time the two appointed to make a fire had an enormous one burning. The two sent for the white pebble reached a lake surrounded by a hemlock forest that seemed to grow on rocks without any earth. On looking around, the two men saw many stones of the kind for which they were sent. Having picked up the right one, they went back immediately, saying on their return, “We have brought what we were sent for.” The new chief thanked them. Now all the people waited.

The two men sent to Doonongaes’s lodge reached the lake, and as they went along the bank, one of them said: “I am getting hungry. Let us have some fish.” “Very well, we will catch some,” replied the other. Soon they had a number of fish, and sitting down on the bank, they began to eat them raw. Skahnowa saw these men eating fish, so he came near and asked: “What are you doing? You are stealing my fish.” “Oh, no!” replied the men; “this lake does not belong to you.” “Well, to whom does it belong?” asked Skahnowa. “It belongs to the Controlling Power,” was the reply. “No, the man who owns this lake has ordered me to watch it,” said Skahnowa. “What is his name?” he was asked. “His name is Doonongaes,” he replied. “Well,” said the two men, “Doonongaes was killed some time ago.” “Are you sure of that,” asked Skahnowa. “Yes; we have just come from the spot where his body is,” they said. “Where is that?” asked Skahnowa. “At Broken Land, where the laughing man lives. You know where that is,” they said. “Oh, yes,” answered Skahnowa; “I will go and see. If he is dead, I suppose I shall get possession of this lake and own it myself.” “Take the trail we came on,” said the men. Then they went their way, while Skahnowa took the trail along which they had come.

The two men searched Doonongaes’s lodge, but for a long time they could find nothing. At last they found in the smoke hole the pouch they wanted. They took it out with them, and running very fast, they overtook Skahnowa when he was almost at Broken Land. The three went on together and in time came to the place where Doonongaes lay. Skahnowa, looking at the remains, said, “It is true that he is dead, and yet he thought no man could kill him, so greatly did he esteem himself.” The two men delivered the pouch, and then sat down, waiting for the others to come.

The two men who went to their grandfather arrived at the place they thought was the end of the earth, whereupon one of them said: “We are here. Now how are we to find where our grandfather lives?” The other answered, “I wonder if this is really the place?” They went along the edge of the water, which was only a small lake, not the end of the earth. Keeping on, at length they went around the lake. Seeing their own tracks ahead, they said: “The other two men have passed here. Let us go this way.” After going around again, they said: “Two more men have come up. Now let us hurry and overtake them.” The two had not gone far when one of them fell down with a great cry, saying: “I can not go any farther. There is something in my foot. You finish the journey alone. On the way back you can stop for me.” “Very well,” said the other. On running around the lake still again, he said, “There are six men running; now I will do the best I can. Why! there is a man sitting ahead on the bank. Well, I thought I would overtake those people soon.” The man who was sitting down, on turning to see who was running up, saw his friend. The runner said to himself, “Why, it looks like my friend who hurt his foot.” On coming to him, he asked, “What are you doing here?” “I am resting; my foot is nearly well now, and I will start at once. Did you go around and come back?” he asked. “Oh, no! I was on the trail all the time,” came the reply. They set out together. One said: “This must be a small lake. When we come to the other end we will go on in a straight line.”

They now watched the sun, and when it was at the other end of the lake, they took their course from it, and then traveled a long time straight ahead. Again they reached the limit of the land. Once more they said: “It seems that we have come to the end of the earth. Let us look for our grandfather’s lodge.” They saw an opening or clearing, and on the farther side smoke arising. They found a lodge there, and on looking in saw an old man, at which they said one to the other, “I wonder whether that is our grandfather.” While they were looking, the old man, straightening himself up, called out: “Come in, grandsons. Why do you stay outside?” They looked at each other, saying, “How did he see us, for his back is toward us?” Going around the lodge, they entered. The old man said, “You have a message, otherwise you would not have come; but let me get my pipe first.” [151] Taking his pipe and beginning to smoke, he said, “Now I am ready.” “Well,” said the two men, “our people are assembled in an important condoling council, and they said to us: ‘Go to our grandfather; tell him that our chief has fallen and that we want to make him alive again.’” “Very well,” replied the old man, who was one of the Ganos (Spring-frog people); “you have come on a very important errand and I will give you something that will be of great use to you, in fact the only thing that can bring your chief to life again.” Going into a hole in the ground, the old man returned with a white flint in the form of a canoe, about as long as a finger. In one end of this white flint canoe was some black paint and in the other end was a powder—a medicine of some mysterious kind. The old man said: “When you go to use what I give you now, color your faces with this paint, then paint your dead chief’s face with it also; and after that, put this powder on the edges of the wound and wash his face with cold water. Then blow on him and he shall come to life. When he opens his eyes, put this powder into water and give it to him to drink.” Hurrying off in the boat, they arrived at Broken Land without delay. They said: “We were hindered by the lake.152 We kept going around it.” The new chief replied, “People seldom get away from that lake, which is called Ganigonhadontha Ganiodae152 (the delirium-making lake); it puts men out of their minds.”

The people now waited for the next two men. Those two went ahead till they came to an opening lengthwise in the trail. On looking around, they could see people sitting here and there. One of the men said: “I wonder what they are doing. Are they watching and guarding the opening? We must pass.” They passed by unharmed and traveled till night, when they came to a hollow tree lying on the ground. They crawled into this and had been there only a short time when some one rapped and said, “Well, are you here for the night?” One answered, “Yes; we are.” “What would you do if the Ganiagwaihegowa should come?” was asked them. “Oh! we should like it; we should play tag and have a good time,” they replied. Soon they heard a voice saying: “Come out as quickly as you can. I have come to help you, for this is a very dangerous spot. The magic power (orenda) of the man you are looking for extends to this place, and he has a great many other places under his control. You must follow me, or you will not live through the night.” They went with the owner of the voice, seeming to rise in the air as they journeyed. After a while the guide said, “Stop here and see what would have happened to you if you had stayed in the tree.” As they looked back, they saw Ganiagwaihegowa [153] tear the tree into bits, which flew around in every direction. Ganiagwaihegowa looked for the men, saying: “He who notified me said that two men were here. He always disappoints me, but if he does this once more, I will cut his head off.” Then Ganiagwaihegowa went away. The guide said, “Ganiagwaihegowa has gone home, and you are now safe.”

They spent the night in another hollow tree. The next morning they hurried on and at midday came to the place where the rocks were high—the highest rocks in the whole world—on the summit of which lived the old man. As they stood at the foot and looked up, they said, “How is it possible to get up where that old man lives?” but they went. They searched until they found a ledge that seemed to ascend in a spiral; this they began to climb, one ahead of the other. Sometimes they slipped, almost falling off. At length the man ahead slipped on a round stone, and over he went, striking on the rocks as he fell and going down out of sight. “Well,” thought the other man, “my friend is dead;” thereupon he kicked the round stone from the ledge. In falling it struck the fallen man, who was just regaining consciousness, on the top of his head, killing him.