Chapter XXI: Part 2: also consists of Seneca legends and myths, which are (16)

The man above went on until he reached the top of the rocks. At the lodge of the old man, whose name was Hasʻhonyot (i.e., “his back is turned”), of the Odjieqdah [154] (Crayfish or Lobster) people, he stood a while, thinking, “this man is at home, I suppose.” Looking down among the rocks, he said, “See where I would fall if he were to kill me.” Peeping into the lodge, he said: “Sure enough, he is at home; he is looking toward me and must have been looking at me ever since I came up. I wonder where that thing is for which I have come. I wonder whether that is it hanging up there. How shall I manage to get inside? Perhaps I would better turn the lodge over and let it fall among the rocks.” He overturned the lodge—down it went over the precipice, whereupon he thought: “What will happen when it strikes? I will go and see. I have overturned the lodge of the most magically powerful person in the world, and did not have much trouble in doing so.” When the man got halfway down he slipped. The farther he fell the faster he went. At last, slipping over the edge of the rocks, he fell till he struck on the topmost limbs of a great hickory tree; the limbs threw him upward, so that he landed on a ledge on the side of the precipice. Not knowing how to get down, he said: “I must die anyhow. I may as well jump.” So jumping off, he came down the same hickory tree, to the branches of which he clung; then he slipped to the ground, where he found his friend’s body with the skull crushed. “I think it was I who killed him by kicking off that round stone,” he said; “well, I could not help it.”

The old man’s lodge stood all right on level land. He peeped into it—there sat the old man. “This is dismal. I will burn the lodge,” said he; so he piled up sticks until he had it covered, whereupon he set fire to it. After the fire was well started, the old man said: “It is getting rather hot here. I wonder what is the matter. Perhaps Sʻhodieonskon [155] is playing tricks with me. It seems there is fire; it feels like that. I wonder whether he is burning my lodge?” After a while, hearing the noise of burning timbers, he was sure that there was fire. “Very well,” said he; “if that is the case, I will call on Hasdeaundyetʻha.”156 Then, taking native Indian tobacco out of a basket made of corn husks, he began to burn the tobacco and to call on Hasdeaundyetʻha, saying, “I ask you to make it rain so hard that the rain shall put out every spark of fire around my lodge.” The moment he finished speaking rain began to fall. It rained so hard that the man outside had to run for safety. In a few moments the sky cleared off, the fire was out, and no traces of rain were left.

“I wonder how things are where I set the fire,” thought the messenger. On returning to the place he found everything quiet—no fire; all in order. “Pshaw! what can I do?” said he; “I might take the lodge along, as it is not very heavy.” Picking it up and putting it on top of his head, he started for Broken Land. Traveling with great speed, he soon came near to his destination; but before coming in sight of it, taking the lodge off his head, he said, “I will leave it here and let the new chief say what shall be done with it.” After setting it down, he went to Broken Land. “You have come, but where is your companion?” asked the chief. “He fell from the rocks and was killed,” he replied. “Did you bring what you went for?” he was asked. “Yes,” he answered. “Where is it?” was the next question. “Not far from here, and I want you to say what shall be done with it.” The chief replied, “Well, let us all go there.” Thereupon all went to the spot where Hasʻhonyot’s lodge was left. The chief said, “You stay outside while I go into the lodge.” When inside he looked at the old man, who sat there smoking with his head down. The chief thought “He is a very magically powerful man; he could kill me in a moment if he liked;” then he said, “My friend, I have come to your lodge.” The old man kept on smoking, not seeming to hear. The chief called again louder, when the old man said, “It seems as though someone is talking.” Then scooping the matter out of one of his eyes with half of a clamshell, he threw it away; then he cleaned the other eye in the same way. Having done this, he looked up, and, seeing the man, said: “What are you standing there for? Go out! I do not want you in my lodge. I live on the top of these rocks so as to be alone,” said the old man. “I came out here,” answered the other, “in a friendly way. Come out, look around, and see where you live.” On going out and looking around, Hasʻhonyot saw that he was in a level country and that many people lived about him, and he wondered how he got there. “Did I bring it,” thought he, “from where the wind blows, or not? I wonder whether my lodge was moving when my head was moving and bumping here and there.” “Well,” he finally said to the chief, “what do you want?” “I came,” replied the chief, “to see whether you would lend us that thing which has so great and wonderful magic power?” “What do you want it for?” the old man asked. “Our chief has been overpowered and killed. We want to bring him to life,” said the chief. “I can bring him to life,” said Hasʻhonyot, “in a very short time.” “How shall we pay you?” the chief asked. “Find two of your best-looking women and send them to me. I ask no more,” he replied. “I will talk with my friends,” answered the chief.

Thereupon the chief went out and told his people what the old man said. They talked together a good while, saying: “The most beautiful women are married; how can they be given away? Perhaps we should never see them again?” At last the people said: “Let them go. If their husbands are angry, we will settle with them.” They told the women that the old man would have control of them thenceforth. The women said: “We all want to have the chief come back to life. We must consent. Perhaps it will turn out to be all right.” The chief went back to Hasʻhonyot and said: “All is settled. The women are willing.” “Bring them here, then,” said the old man. The women were brought to him. Now Hasʻhonyot had five bloodsuckers as attendants, and he said to them: “Tie these women. Do not let them go farther away than your own length.” The old man carried these bloodsuckers under his tail. They fastened on the women at once, but still held to Hasʻhonyot’s back. “All right now,” said Hasʻhonyot; “your chief will be alive tomorrow, but in the meanwhile I do not want any of your people around here.” The people dispersed, but stayed around at a safe distance to see whether the chief would come to life. During the night the old man went to the spot where the body of Doonongaes lay, and as the women were tied to him, they had to accompany him. He said, “There is no need of bringing this terrible-looking man to life.” Nevertheless he went to work, cleaning and washing the wound and putting upon it a certain weed pounded soft. Then reaching down for water, he poured it on the mouth of the corpse (there was no water near by, and the women never knew where he got it); then he blew into Doonongaes’s mouth and talked to him (the women could not understand what he said). Having done this, he built a small fire and told one of the women to run to the lodge and get what was under his couch. As she ran along the bloodsucker stretched out, but as soon as she picked up the bark basket of tobacco and started back, the bloodsucker began to contract. Hasʻhonyot took the tobacco and burned it, saying, “I burn this to you, the Complete Power,[157] and ask you to bring this man to life.” Then he sang, “Onen dondaʹwe né diiohegoⁿ (what keeps alive is coming back here).” When he had finished singing he sat a good while watching. Doonongaes did not come to life then. The old man sent the woman again for tobacco, which he burned, repeating the same words. Then he sang, Onen sagaion ne honhehgon, da onen denshadat hehioendjade.158 When he had finished singing he blew into the mouth of the dead man,159 who thereupon came to life. “You are well now,” said the old man. Doonongaes did not speak. Again the old man said, “You are well now.” Then Doonongaes answered, “I believe I am well.” Hasʻhonyot said: “I will go home. You stay here until your people come in the morning.” Hasʻhonyot went home, and the women went to bed with him.

The next morning the people came to Doonongaes and found him alive. They were very glad. “How did you bring me back to life?” he asked. “We sent a man to Hasʻhonyot’s lodge and he brought back the lodge and the old man, who promised to restore you to life if we would give him the two most beautiful women of our people. Therefore we gave them to him.” “That was not right,” said Doonongaes; “I will kill that old man.” The people said: “Do what you like. You are alive now, and we will go home.”

Going to the old man’s lodge, Doonongaes cried out, “Hallo, old man! what are you going to do with these women—keep them for life?” “Of course I will; they are mine now,” Hasʻhonyot replied. “I wish you would let them go,” said Doonongaes; “why should you keep them?” “I got them as pay for bringing you to life,” was the answer. “No matter; you must give them up,” replied Doonongaes. “Oh, no,” replied Hasʻhonyot. “You must,” said Doonongaes. “Well, then you must get out of my lodge,” retorted the old man. “No, I will not go until you free the women,” answered Doonongaes. Hasʻhonyot rejoined: “You must go at once; if you do not I will kill you. I did not think you would annoy me, if I brought you to life.” “Well, why did you bring me back to life?” asked Doonongaes. “Go out of here,” said Hasʻhonyot. “I will not go. I want those women,” said Doonongaes. The old man, springing up, drew his flint knife. “Now, I say you must go,” said he. Doonongaes, drawing back slightly, thought, “Pshaw! what a coward I am! I can play tricks on the old man.” Going outside, he put his horns under the lodge—up it flew in the air and then fell to the ground. (The lodge was of stone.[160]) “Very well,” said the old man, “I will kill you.” So he went out. “What are you doing?” he asked; “I think you are trying to throw my lodge over. Do you want me to cut your head off again? I can do it very easily,” he added. “All I want,” replied Doonongaes, “is that you release the women.” “I will not release them,” declared Hasʻhonyot. “You must,” said Doonongaes, and taking a reed, called owl’s arrow, he hit him on the back; the blow glanced off without hurting the old man a bit. Again Doonongaes asked, “Will you let me have the women?” “No,” exclaimed Hasʻhonyot. “Well, I am going over there a short distance. I will come back soon,” said Doonongaes.

Going into the lodge, Hasʻhonyot asked his attendants, the bloodsuckers: “What shall we do? I think he intends to kill us. Do you think he can do it?” “Yes; we think he has gone for help,” they rejoined. Doonongaes had gone to find the Djihonsdonqgwen [161] people. He came to the place in which they all lived, one great lodge—a mound lodge. Peeping in, he saw a great many people walking around. Immediately one spoke to the others, saying, “Hurry up! we have some game here.” Straightway there were great confusion and crowding and rushing to and fro. There seemed to be rooms all over this immense lodge, above and below and on every side. Entering, Doonongaes said: “Let us have peace. I came here to lead to a work which you will like; I know you will. I have come to hire you to kill a man over there.” They said to one another, “Let us get ready to go.” Their chief lived on a hill near by, but they did not notify him. Doonongaes led them to Hasʻhonyot’s lodge, saying, “I want you to kill this old man, but do not harm the women.” A great many went into the lodge, filling it, and there was a vast crowd outside. Some time passed, and then Doonongaes heard the old man scream and saw him run out. When outside the crowd around the lodge caught him. They released the women. They hurried home, accompanied by Doonongaes, who left the Djihonsdonqgwen to fight with the old man until they thought he was dead. When the women reached home they said, “We are now the wives of our great chief, Doonongaes.” “Thank you, my daughters,” said their mother; “he has saved you, and it is right that you should live with him.” So Doonongaes went to the lodge of the two women and did not return to Ganyodaes.

After a long time had passed both women had children, and he continued to live with them until one day he said, “I am going to the place where my friend, Hasʻhonyot, used to live on the high rocks.” When he reached the foot of the rocks, he saw something lying on the ground, whereupon he said, “He looks like some of our people.” It was the man who had fallen over the precipice while climbing up to Hasʻhonyot’s lodge. At last Doonongaes, having found the ledge on which the men had climbed, reached the summit where the lodge had been; there he saw the footprints of the man who had overturned it. On looking around, he could see to the end of the earth,[162] in all directions. He looked toward the west. Seeing far off a man killing people, he exclaimed, “Pshaw, that man is a fool!” Descending the cliff, he hurried to the place, where he found a great many people. To the man who was killing them, he said, “What are you doing?” “Oh! I am guarding the land under my control,” was the reply. “Yes. What is your name?” asked Doonongaes. “My name is Tsodiqgwadon,”163 was his answer. “You and I belong to the same people, then,” said Doonongaes; “we will therefore decide the matter of supremacy164 in this way: Whichever one of us has the orenda (magic power) to command the great rocks of the cliff on the south side of this village to fall, shall own this place.” Then Doonongaes said, “Let the rocks fall and fall this way.” He had barely spoken when the rocks began to fall toward him. “Only half the rocks have fallen,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “Now command them to go back to their places.” It was done. Now it was the turn of Tsodiqgwadon. He said, “I command every rock of the cliff to fall,” and every stone fell with a great noise, only a mound of earth remaining where the cliff had just stood. Then Doonongaes said: “You have won. You have more orenda than I have. You are more magically powerful than I. I can do nothing more. Now, tell me what I can do to satisfy you.”165 Tsodiqgwadon said, “I want you to let women alone. Every woman living is mine.” Going home to his wives, Doonongaes said to them, “You are not mine any longer.” “Why not,” they asked; “have you sold us, or have you been beaten in a game in which you wagered us?” “No; I met a man who claimed you,” he replied. “Who is he?” they persisted. “Tsodiqgwadon!” exclaimed Doonongaes. “We do not know him; how can we be his wives?” they asked. “Well, that is what he said. I did all I could but he magically overpowered me. Now, I will go to my old home, where I shall be better off,” answered Doonongaes.

Thereupon Doonongaes went to Ganyodaes and, after seeing that all was in order, he began to cook. When he had finished he heard footsteps. A man kicked at the door, and in came his servant, Skahnowa, who said: “What are you doing in my lodge?” “How came this lodge to belong to you?” asked Doonongaes. “Get out of here!” said Skahnowa; “I do not want you.” “I wish,” said Doonongaes, “you would tell me by what right you claim this lodge.” “My master, the former owner, was killed, and I took possession of it after his death,” replied Skahnowa. “Ah! that is it. Do you not know me? I have come back,” said Doonongaes. “You Doonongaes? No; I am sure my master was killed and that his body has decayed by this time,” said Skahnowa. “No; it is I. I have come to life,” answered Doonongaes. For a time Skahnowa was silent; at last he said: “We will test this matter. Go to my lodge and bring the hind quarter of a bear.” “Very well,” replied Doonongaes, and he started, disappearing in the water of the lake. Coming out at a distance from the lodge, he killed a bear and, without having gone to Skahnowa’s lodge, brought a hind quarter. Skahnowa said: “You went quickly. Did you bring what I sent you for?” “Yes. Here it is,” replied Doonongaes. “This is fresh. All the bear meat I had home was roasted. You are not Doonongaes. Go out of this lodge,” said Skahnowa. Beginning to cry, Doonongaes went out. Skahnowa then started on his round of the lake. Doonongaes had not gone far when he said, “What a coward I am! It would be stupid of me to give up my lodge.” He went back but did not find Skahnowa there, so he took possession. The next day at noon Skahnowa returned just as Doonongaes was ready to eat. “What are you here for?” asked Skahnowa. “I told you to go away.” “Why should I give up my lodge?” asked Doonongaes. “If you do not go away, I will beat you,” said Skahnowa. They began to quarrel, and then, going outside, began to fight, moving along the lake. They fought the rest of the day and all night. The next morning Skahnowa said: “This is a hard task. It may be that he is my master. The only thing that makes me doubt it is that he did not do what I asked him to do. He did not go to my lodge.” Finally he said to Doonongaes: “Let us give up fighting.” “No,” replied Doonongaes, “let us have it out. A man has to be killed, one way or another.” “Very well,” said Skahnowa, so they fought again in good earnest. Being of equal magical strength, they fought day and night for one month.[166] Then Skahnowa said: “We would better stop fighting. I think neither of us can conquer.” “Yes,” replied Doonongaes, “it is useless to fight longer; but I want you to promise not to order me out of my own lodge again.” “Very well,” answered Skahnowa, “you may keep the lodge; the owner of it was killed long ago.” Doonongaes asked: “Do you not really know me?” “I know my master is dead,” said Skahnowa.

Doonongaes now went back to the lodge, thinking: “How can I get possession of my lake? I must manage to control it again.” The next night as he lay thinking, he fell asleep and had a dream, and in the dream a man said: “I have come to say that you have been fighting with your servant Skahnowa. We people of orenda, or magic power,[167] know immediately what is going on. All the people of magic power are stirred up now, and if you wish to live, you must go to Tsodiqgwadon. All these people fear him. You must get up and go now, for these people will be here exactly as the sun comes up in the east. Start immediately, and try to be there before daylight.” Doonongaes was astonished at his dream, but said, “I want to live, so I will go.” Starting about midnight, and going to his wives, he slept with them. Then he arose very early in the morning and journeyed on. He found Tsodiqgwadon at the same place where he had seen him killing people. He had barely sat down when a man, kicking aside the door flap, asked: “Have you seen Doonongaes?” “What do you want of him?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “We want to have a trial of our orenda, or magical strength,” came the answer. “Yes; I have seen him, but it was a good while ago,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “There are fresh tracks coming here. Why do you try to hide him?” said the stranger. “I am not trying to hide him, and do you go out of my lodge,” replied Tsodiqgwadon. “I want to see Doonongaes,” said the other. “Have I not said that I have not seen him? Do you understand me?” declared Tsodiqgwadon. “Well, I did not come with any evil intent,” said the other. “But why do you insist, when I tell you I have not seen him?” retorted Tsodiqgwadon. “But the tracks made by him are fresh,” was the other’s reply. “Pshaw,” said Tsodiqgwadon, “do you not know what kind of man I am?” The visitor, who was a Dagwanoenyent,168 ran out, screaming: “Oh! do not touch me. I do not want to fight.” “Well, if you do not, then go home,” said Tsodiqgwadon. The man then started for home.

This man was barely out of sight when they heard a second man coming. Kicking aside the door flap and jumping in, he inquired for Doonongaes, saying, “I will eat him should I find him.” This was Niagwaihe.[169] Tsodiqgwadon said, “I have not seen him.” “That is always the way with this man,” muttered the other; “he is always hiding bad people. How comes it otherwise that his tracks are here?” “I have not seen him. What do you come for? I do not want you in my lodge,” declared Tsodiqgwadon. “Why do you hide Doonongaes?” rejoined Niagwaihe. “I told you I have not seen him,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “His fresh trail comes in at your door,” replied the other. “Well, perhaps he came in and went off another way,” said Tsodiqgwadon. The man went out to look; then, coming back, he said, “No; it is as I told you; his trail comes in here.” “Do you want to fight him?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “No; I merely came to see him,” was the reply. “If you do not go away I will kill you,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “You know what sort of person I am; the best way for you and me is to have it out.” Tsodiqgwadon then went outside, whereupon Niagwaihe screamed: “Do not beat me. I did not come with any ill feeling.” “Well, go home or I will fight you,” said Tsodiqgwadon. Niagwaihe disappeared. “Now,” said Tsodiqgwadon to Doonongaes, who was standing just behind him, “come out of your hiding place.”

They had barely sat down in the lodge when footsteps were heard again and Djainosgowa [170] rushed into the lodge, saying, “Yes; this is the man for whom I have come.” Seizing Doonongaes by the hair he pulled him out of doors. Tsodiqgwadon followed them. When outside he saw Djainosgowa walking off with Doonongaes on his shoulder. “He has taken away my friend, who came to live with me. Never mind,” said Tsodiqgwadon to himself, going back into the lodge and beginning to smoke. Then he thought: “Perhaps I would better go to help him. They may kill him.” So, following Djainosgowa’s trail, he found him sitting down talking with Doonongaes, and asking, “How did you come to think that you have orenda? Why did you want to kill your servant?” Tsodiqgwadon listened. Doonongaes answered, “Let us have peace. Why should we fight?” “No,” replied Djainosgowa; “I am going to try your strength in orenda.” Tsodiqgwadon was there, but had made himself invisible to them. All at once Tsodiqgwadon seized Doonongaes and, putting him on his back, said, “Let us go home. What is the use of being here?”

After Tsodiqgwadon had gone a few steps Djainosgowa found, on looking around, that Doonongaes had disappeared. He searched everywhere for him. At last he said, “Pshaw! I think Tsodiqgwadon took him away,” whereupon he started back. When Tsodiqgwadon reached home, he said to Doonongaes, “We will sit right down here. Djainosgowa will be back soon.” Almost immediately Djainosgowa came in and asked, “Have you seen Doonongaes?” “No; you jerked him out of my lodge. That is the last I have seen of him,” declared Tsodiqgwadon. Djainosgowa said, “I believe you are playing tricks on me. Where did you leave him?” “Why do you accuse me? Go home! I am tired of you,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “I want to see Doonongaes,” replied Djainosgowa. “Go out of here!” exclaimed Tsodiqgwadon. “I will not go until I am satisfied,” persisted the visitor. “I tell you to go. Can you not understand?” said Tsodiqgwadon, getting up and going toward Djainosgowa, who jumped out of the lodge, saying, “Oh! do not be angry. I did not come with any bad feelings.” “Go home,” replied Tsodiqgwadon, “or I will beat you.” Djainosgowa had to go, for he was conquered by superior orenda. Then Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes, “What have you done to all these people that they come here after you?” “I had fought with Skahnowa, who had taken my lodge,” replied Doonongaes. “We fought for one month, and because we fought so long all the people having magic power around the world are excited; that is all.” “Let us go to your lodge,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “I should like to see your servant who is so powerful in orenda.”

Thereupon they went directly to the place. Skahnowa was on his daily rounds. “Where has he gone?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “Oh! he has gone around the lake. He will be here soon,” said Doonongaes, who began to cook. Just as they were sitting down to eat, they heard footsteps, and a man sprang into the lodge, calling out, “What are you doing in here? Go out!” “Oh! be quiet,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “Well, what right have you in my lodge?” answered Skahnowa. “Be reasonable,” said Tsodiqgwadon. Skahnowa dropped his head; then, raising it again, he asked: “What are you doing? Are you on some errand of importance?” “We have come to see what you have been doing with your master,” replied Tsodiqgwadon. “It is a great annoyance to have people come to try the strength of Doonongaes since your fight with him took place.” “Is that man there my master?” asked Skahnowa. “Yes; he is,” replied Tsodiqgwadon. “How came he to be alive again?” Skahnowa asked. “That is nothing strange among us people of great magic power—persons who are possessed of potent orenda. We die and become alive again;[171] that is the way it was with Doonongaes,” said Tsodiqgwadon. “Now I understand,” said Skahnowa. “I will not quarrel with him; he can have his own lodge. I will never trouble him again.” Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes, “Let us go.”

So they went along the lake shore and were soon at home. The ground about was covered with tracks. Everything had been eaten; not a scrap was left. “What are you going to do now?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “The best I can do,” said Doonongaes, “is to go home with you and you can give me a couple of women to live with. Skahnowa will forget his promise and will attack me if I stay here.” “Very well; come along and I will take you to a woman,” Tsodiqgwadon said, so he brought him to a filthy, ugly-looking creature of the Hanondon [172] people. “Here is a woman—I want you to stay with her,” said Tsodiqgwadon. Doonongaes replied, “I want another.” “Well, let us go on a little farther,” declared Tsodiqgwadon. They soon came to a lodge in which was a woman of the Hawiqson(t)173 people, dirty, and so badly deformed that one of her feet was on her forehead. “Well,” said Doonongaes, “I suppose I shall have to live with these women. You are the ruler here.”

Tsodiqgwadon left him. Night came and Doonongaes hung his head, saying: “I think my friend Tsodiqgwadon has treated me badly. I will not stay with these women. I will go away.” He traveled all that night and the next day; he traveled southward 10 whole days and nights. When 10 days had passed Tsodiqgwadon went to the place where the women, Hanondon and Hawiqson(t), lived, saying, “I will see how my friend Doonongaes is getting on.” He asked the women, “Is Doonongaes at home?” “No,” they replied. “Where has he gone?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “We do not know,” said they, “he did not stay here; he went off the first night you left him.” “Pshaw! let him go,” said he, and Tsodiqgwadon went home.

At the end of 10 days Doonongaes came to a large village in which all the people wore feather headdresses. The chief of the village, Gasaisdowanen,[174] asked Doonongaes, “What did you come here for?” “To make a visit,” replied Doonongaes. “Who will take this man to his lodge?” asked the chief. “He may go with me,” called out one man, so Doonongaes lived with him. After a few days news came to the chief that the people from the far west were going to make war on him; then a challenge came. The chief asked his people to volunteer to fight the western people. In two days he had 500 volunteers, among whom was Doonongaes. They started, women going with them until the night of the first day. The next morning when the warriors went on the women returned to their homes. The warriors continued their journey until they began to see signs of danger and to hear war whoops here and there in the distance. When they stopped for the night the chief said, “Let one man be on guard all night.” Doonongaes volunteered to do this sentinel duty. He kept the fires burning and watched. About midnight he heard a great war whoop and, saying to himself, “I do not want to die,” he ran off. The western people, who were Dagwanoenyents, came to the spot where the people were asleep and killed and scalped every one of them. After getting away to a safe distance Doonongaes lay down and slept. In the morning he said, “I will go and see what has happened to my friends.” He found them all dead and scalped, whereupon he thought, “I will go to the wives of these men and take them all.”

When Doonongaes returned to the village he called the women together, and said, “I wish to tell you that your husbands are killed, and that I will marry all of you.” After talking the matter over all the women except one were finally willing to accept the proposal. Doonongaes said, “Very well; I will settle with the unwilling one.” He stayed one night at each woman’s lodge. When he came to the unwilling one he said, “If you do not marry me, I will cut your head off.” “Well,” she answered, “you will have to overpower me first.” She was a great woman; her name was Diagoisiowanens.[175] Doonongaes continued, “I am magically the most powerful man in the world,” referring to his orenda, or magic power. “Well, you must try me,” said she. Thereupon he went out, saying, “I will be ready in the afternoon,” but he never returned.

Going southward, Doonongaes traveled until evening. That night he spent in a hollow tree. He went on for eight days. The ninth night he said, “Diagoisiowanens thought she could overpower me, but I am too far off now.” He was just going to sleep when he heard someone walking on the leaves who, coming to the opening of his camp, said: “Doonongaes, are you here? What would you do if Hononeowanen [176] should come here?” “Oh! I should like it,” answered Doonongaes. The man went off, as it seemed, and soon a great noise of falling trees was heard—a terrible noise—the earth was torn up on every side. When Hononeowanen reached the tree he said, “Come out!” Turning himself into a snake,177 Doonongaes went out. When the other one saw him, he said, “Why, you are one of my people.” “Yes, I am the chief of our people, the most powerful person on earth,” was the reply of Doonongaes. “I think not,” said Hononeowanen. “Yes, I am. In the west lives a man of our kind, pretending to be the most powerful person magically in the whole world. I met and overpowered him (Doonongaes lied; he meant Tsodiqgwadon). “Well,” said Hononeowanen, “that man has more orenda than I, so if you have more orenda than he, I do not want to meddle with you, so I will go away.” So saying, he went off. Doonongaes stood a while thinking: “Why did Hononeowanen come over here? I suppose he forgot that I am second in magic power among my people. Well, I will go back to my wives, but there is no use in doing that, as Diagoisiowanens might kill me. I will go southward.”

Doonongaes then walked two nights and days without sleep, until he came to a great plain on the eastern side of which there was smoke arising. Thereupon he turned himself into a man.[178] Soon he reached a village, but he saw no one, though smoke was rising from every lodge. Entering a lodge, he found a kettle full of meat over a good fire, but there was no one at home. Going around the village, he waited. Just at noon he thought, “I would better go again and see whether anyone has come back.” He found no one. “This is very mysterious,” said he. “I will go away—perhaps this is a place of the arts of sorcery.”

Doonongaes next went westward. In the evening he saw another “opening” and smoke arising, as before. “If I do not find anyone here,” said he, “I will go back to the two women whom Tsodiqgwadon gave me.” He reached the place, where he had been but a short time when he saw coming toward him a splendid-looking man with great feathers on his head. This was Hostoyowanen,[179] the chief of the village. Doonongaes greeted him with, “Do you know the village off there in the east? Where have all the people gone?” “They are dead,” answered the man. “Niagwaihe has eaten them all. Tomorrow, perhaps, he will come here and destroy us.” “I should like to stay here a few days,” said Doonongaes. “Very well,” replied the chief, “tomorrow I will show you my village.” The next day they went all around. Doonongaes saw that the people had beautiful things—wampum, shells, and valuable skins; there were many people and lodges. After they had seen all the village, Hostoyowanen said: “Now, you must not stay any longer. I do not want you to die here. Run southward and you may be saved.” The chief went home and Doonongaes went southward. He ran fast, and when night came he slept in a hollow tree. The next morning he said, “I am going westward. I do not mind what that chief said.” Toward midday he was hungry. He said: “Oh! my neck is sore; it has been sore for a long time and feels as though something were in it. How can I cure it?” Having found a spring, he lay down to drink from it, but saw the reflection of someone in the water. “Oh! that looks like my wife, Hawiqson(t). Why is her face reflected in this water? I am far from her now. This is strange,” mused Doonongaes. Being frightened, he did not drink but, jumping up, he ran toward the south, forgetting which way he was going. He ran all night. Just at daylight he fell down from weakness. “Why,” thought he, “am I getting so heavy and weak? Is it because I am hungry?” He lay there and could not rise; he was too hungry, for he had not eaten anything for a whole year.180 He thought: “Well, there is no need of my standing up. I am a snake.” Changed from a man into a great snake, he went on, saying, “Well, I am traveling again.” At noon, coming to a village, he went into the last lodge, in which lived an old woman and her granddaughter, who were very poor. “I want to stay with you a few days,” said Doonongaes. “I have nothing to eat,” answered the old woman. “I want merely to sleep; I do not care for eating,” Doonongaes replied. “Then you may stay,” said the old woman. The next morning, before she was out of bed, Doonongaes asked, “Had you a family long ago?” “Yes,” she answered, “a long time ago I was married and had a large family, but only two are living now.” “Well,” said Doonongaes, “you must have kept a bow and arrows.” “Look around,” said the old woman to her granddaughter, “and see whether you can find a bow and arrows.” After hunting for them, at last she found a bow and arrows. Doonongaes straightened the arrows and strung the bow. Then he shot through the smoke hole, saying to the arrow, “Go for a large bear.” Soon they heard the sound of approaching footsteps and then of something falling in front of the door, at which the old woman said: “I think that man Dagadiye has come again, for he is always rushing through the village. He does not kill, but he chases our people.” Doonongaes laughed at her words. “Why do you laugh?” asked the old widow. “I laugh at what you say,” replied Doonongaes. “Well, what do you think the noise was?” she asked. “I do not know,” said Doonongaes. “Go and see.” Going to the door, she exclaimed, “Hwu! Hwu! There is a great bear here!” The old woman made a hole under the jaw of the bear and, putting her thumb into the incision, she tore off the skin. Then cutting open the body, she took out the intestines, after which she hung up the meat. Then she began to think: “Why did this bear come? Who sent it?” Finally she asked, “My grandson, can you tell me why this bear came?” Doonongaes said, laughing: “Did you not see me shoot? I told the arrow to bring a bear and the bear came.”

Doonongaes staid there all day, while the grandmother cooked. The next morning he heard a noise. A messenger came in, saying: “I have come to notify you that the daughter of our chief, Deyenegonsdasden,[181] is to be married to the man who can shoot the black eagle perched on the top of a pole that reaches to the clouds; the shooting begins at midday.” Doonongaes said, “I can marry the chief’s daughter, for I can kill any one of the eagles, even when flying high.” He straightened his arrows and strung his bow as he lay by the fire. Looking through the smoke hole, he could see the eagle on the pole.182 At midday all the people were around the pole, when the chief said, “Now, do you begin.” Doonongaes saw through the smoke-hole how the arrows flew. Each man tried twice, but none of the arrows went near the target. He watched until night, and then the chief said, “Tomorrow we will try again.” The next morning Doonongaes said, “None of these men can kill that eagle.” Stringing his bow, he shot an arrow through the smoke-hole, which he saw go straight to the eagle and pierce it. The eagle fell, while the arrow transfixing it stuck into the ground, taking root so deep that no one was able to pull it out. Every man said, “I did it.” But the chief replied, “Then take the arrow out.” Each tried but could not draw out the arrow. Now Doonongaes said to the old woman’s granddaughter:183 “Go after my arrow. Somebody may break it.” She went to the place, saying, “A man at our lodge sent me to get his arrow.” Thereupon, taking hold of it, she pulled it out easily.

“My daughter is married now,” said Deyenegonsdasden, so he sent two men for Doonongaes. They found him by the fire at the widow’s lodge. When they told him to come to the chief’s lodge, he asked, “Why does the chief send for me?” [184] “He wants you to marry his daughter, for you killed the black eagle on the top of the pole,” he was told, “Oh! I do not want any more wives. I have more than 100 now,” returned Doonongaes. They insisted, but he refused. On their return this was told to Deyenegonsdasden, who said, “Now let 8 or 10 of you go, and if he won’t come willingly, tie him and bring him here.” Going back, they said, “You must come.” “I will not,” replied Doonongaes; “I am not going there for nothing,” declared Doonongaes. “Well,” answered the men, “it is not for nothing. The chief wants you to marry his daughter.” “Is she good looking?” asked Doonongaes. “Oh, yes! she is very beautiful,” the men replied. “Well,” said Doonongaes, “it would be a shame for me to marry her; I am too nasty a man.” They tried hard to persuade him, but he would not go. Then they tried to tie him, but he hurled them away. Even after trying all day they could not bind him. When night came they said, “We might as well give up and go home.” When they went back they told the chief, “We can do nothing with him.” Then the chief said to his daughter, “You must go to him.” As her father told her that she must go, the girl went. She entered the old woman’s hut, but Doonongaes paid no attention to her. After a while she said, “I came to stay with you.” “Where do you live?” asked Doonongaes. “I live in the center185 of the village,” the girl replied. “Who is your father?” he asked. “The chief,” she said. “Oh! I will not marry you,” said Doonongaes. “Are you sure you will not marry me?” asked the girl. “Yes; I have too many wives,” he replied. “Are you married at home? Where do you live?” she inquired. The reply was: “Sixteen186 days’ journey from here I have more than a hundred wives. Farther on I have two more.” “Where did you come from?” she continued. “I think you know the place,” he said; it is called Dedyosdenhon.”187 “Yes,” he replied, “I know where that place is; it is far away, near the end of the earth. I suppose you will not go back there. It is too far, and you will marry me.” “No, I am not looking for a wife here. Such people as you are188 would not help me.” The beautiful girl began to cry. Doonongaes, looking at her, asked, “What is the matter?” Whereupon she cried harder and harder. Now Doonongaes himself began to cry. The old woman asked: “What is the matter? Why do you cry?” No answer. Then she herself began to cry. Her granddaughter, coming in and seeing that all were crying, began to get lonely and to cry, too. Now all were crying, and they cried louder and louder. Just as it became dark the chief heard the sound of crying, and sent men to find out where it was. They went through the whole village, but found no one crying. At last one said, “Let us go over to the old widow’s hut.” On nearing it they heard the sound of crying, so they returned to the chief and said, “The crying is at the lodge of the old widow, Deienensowanens.”189 Hearing this, the chief said: “My daughter is at that lodge. I must go over there.” When near, he, too, heard the sound of crying, at which his heart grew weak, and he thought to himself, “I can not go into that poor hut.” So he remained outside, and soon he also began to cry, and he cried until he forgot everything. When he came to his senses he was sitting at the side of the old widow, “Broad-Shoulders.” He did not know where he was. He was not crying, merely thinking why the others were crying. After a while he said, “Let us all be of good cheer and stop crying.” Now the old woman thought, “Who said that?” and, on looking up, she saw the chief of the village, whereupon she asked, “Why are you here? I never saw you near me before.” “I came to cheer you up,” he replied. “Very well,” said the widow, “but tell your daughter to stop crying. I thought it was the rule to cry, for when she got here she began to do so.” The chief said to his daughter: “Stop crying! It is not right for you to cry. If you do not stop, I will cut your head off.” Being afraid, she stopped. Doonongaes cried on as before until finally the old woman said, “My grandson, every one has stopped crying; so do not cry.” He paid no heed. The chief tried to stop him, but he cried the more, and continued to cry until morning. He was sitting on a block with his elbows on his knees and his head resting on the palms of his hands. In the morning his companions saw a great pile of wampum in front of him. All his tears were beautiful wampum. The chief asked: “What are those things? Are they not good for something?” “Yes,” replied Doonongaes, “if they are strung together. If a man is sad and cries, and a string of them is given to him, all will be well again.” Doonongaes had now stopped crying. The chief said, “I want you to be the chief of this place, and I will be the second, or vice, chief.” Doonongaes sat with drooping head for a while, after which, looking up, he said: “I do not want to be a chief. I am great enough now. I am known everywhere. I am second in magic power in the entire world—that is enough for me.” The chief asked, “Do you know who is first in magic power in this world?” “I do,” he replied. “Who is he?” was the next question. “Tsodiqgwadon, who lives at Dedyosdenhon,” he answered. “Very well,” said the chief, “I can say no more. I will go home, taking my daughter with me.” “Yes; go! I do not want you here,” Doonongaes added.

The chief and his daughter then returned home, whereupon Doonongaes began to laugh. The old woman asked, “Why do you laugh?” “Oh! I am laughing at the chief, for his daughter very much wants to get married.” The old woman replied, “You would better stop laughing and appoint some one to marry her instead of yourself.” “Well, grandmother, you must go and find some poor man to marry her,” said Doonongaes. “Very well, grandson. I will go to a ‘Shabby Man’ who lives on the other side of the village and speak to him about it.” When she got to the place she said to the “Shabby Man,” “I have come to have you marry?” “Who would marry me? Nobody wants me,” said the man. “Oh, yes! I can find you a wife, a beautiful one, too,” was her answer. The “Shabby Man” said, “All right,” and went home with the old woman. Doonongaes asked: “Are you the man? Do you want to marry?” “Yes. I should like to marry, if anybody would have me,” replied the man. Doonongaes said to the widow’s granddaughter, “Go to the chief and say that Doonongaes will marry his daughter now.” So she told the chief what he said. “Very well,” he answered, sending his daughter to the old woman’s hut. Doonongaes asked her, “Do you want to marry me?” “Yes; for you killed the eagle,” she replied. “Would it please you if I should appoint a man to marry you?” Doonongaes added. “Yes,” was the girl’s answer. “This is the man I appoint,” declared Doonongaes. Turning to the “Shabby Man,” the girl said, “Come, we will go home to my father’s lodge.” At this the man laughed for gladness.

Doonongaes spent a whole year with the old woman. One morning he said: “Now, I am going to the southern end of the earth. I want to know how things are there.” “Very well,” replied the grandmother. “Come in on your way back,” she said. “I will,” said Doonongaes. He left all the wampum with the old woman, for if he wanted any he had only to cry in order to get it. After traveling all day and all night, in the morning he came to a great opening in the woods. As he stood looking around the place, he saw some dark object in the west. Looking very sharply, he said: “What is that dark thing? Is some one watching?” He stood there a good while. Just at midday, seeing that the object was lying down, he thought: “What can that be? I must go there and see.” He ran thither as swiftly as he could, and on coming to a piece of smooth ground, there he found one of the Djainosgowa family. The one that had been standing up was the old man who guarded the opening; he was now lying down to sleep, for it was just midday. There were two old Djainosgowa persons and five children. Doonongaes, frightened, ran into the woods, thinking: “I must go home. I do not want these Djainos people to kill me.”

So Doonongaes ran a whole month, day and night, until he reached the lodge of Tsodiqgwadon, whom he found sitting by the fire with his head hanging down. When he looked up and saw Doonongaes he said, “Oh, my friend! are you alive?” “Yes; I have been traveling,” said Doonongaes. “Why did you leave your two wives?” asked Tsodiqgwadon. “Oh! I do not think those women good enough for me; they are too ugly,” was his answer. “Why did you tell me you wanted them?” he was asked. “I did not want them. I wanted good-looking women,” he said. “Well, you can not have two beautiful women,” declared his questioner. Soon they heard a noise, at which Tsodiqgwadon said, “Sit down behind me.” A stranger, entering, asked, “Have you seen Doonongaes?” “I have not,” answered Tsodiqgwadon. “Well, I have tracked him to this lodge,” came the reply. “What of it? I have not seen him,” was the reply. “You must have hidden him,” persisted the stranger. “No; I tell you I have not seen him.” The stranger, who was Djainosgowa, and who had followed Doonongaes from the great opening, now said, “I must go home.” “You would better do so,” replied Tsodiqgwadon. As he started off, Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes: “Come out here. I want you to go to the northern end of the earth and see how my father is getting on. He lives at the edge of the earth. Ask him if he will not come here. Tell him we are to have a great council at Broken Land. All the people of the world are to meet there.” “What is your father’s name?” asked Doonongaes. Tsodiqgwadon said, “Deanohdjes.[190] He is of the Geia191 people.”