Chapter XXXIV: Part 2 (2)

The youth came to the place marked for the first camping place, but he passed it and kept on, and thus he did with all the others, until he arrived at the tenth camping place, although the sun was low in the west when he had reached the first one. At the tenth camping place he saw that the forest edges were wreathed in long films of dew clouds, and he stopped there for the night. Quickly arising in the morning, he was startled to hear the voices of a number of men, who were laughing as they went eastward, and who passed by on the path.

The young man got ready and went on. When he reached the pathway he saw that all the tracks indicated that these persons were going eastward. He continued his journey along the path in the same direction. Suddenly he saw ahead of him a man, who was very old in appearance and very, very small in size. Just before overtaking him the young man decided that this must be Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ, who was in tatters. When the young man came up with him, the small man exclaimed; “Oh, my nephew! you have overtaken me, so now you and I will go on together. For all are going in pairs. All those who are going to the place where the Hawks (?), perched on the woman’s tree, forthtell for her. I shall follow you, as you can go so much faster than I.” Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ answered: “It is impossible for me to agree to that proposition. You yourself take the lead, because I am fleeter than are you.” The only reply the old man made was, Wuʻʹ, and then they two went on with the old man in the lead. All at once he began to run. Hohoʻʹ, he ran on ahead. He kept on for a long distance, and then suddenly he turned aside into the forest. In a short time he began calling, “Hō! come hither, my nephew. I have treed a fisher here, and you must get its skin for me. Come, come!” he kept on saying; “you must shoot it, too, and this is a good place to stand when you are about to shoot at it. Come on, come on!” he kept on saying. Finally, the young man said, “I will shoot it.” Then he went thither and shot at it, striking it fairly through the heart, and with the arrow still sticking into it the fisher fell dead to the ground. The old man exclaimed, “Come on! Come this way. I forbear touching your arrow.” Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said, “My arrow has lost its orenda (magic power).” Overhearing this remark, the old man said, “Wuʻʹ. One would think perhaps that he is a sorcerer,” and he then drew out the arrow from the dead fisher, and carried it to his companion, saying, “I am free from (magical) taint, you know, and so I can not de-magic-ize [411] your arrow. Here, take it!”

The young man took the arrow again and they went on to the spot where they would encamp for the night. When they arrived at the place the sun was low in the west. The old man said to his nephew, in order to remove any apprehensions from his mind as to his own good intentions, “I will now skin the fisher and prepare its skin.” At this time they heard in the distance the sounds of persons laughing. And, they say, these persons made their several camps there. Then Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ said, “Here let us, for our part, pitch our camp, because when among people I am much abused because I am quite old.” So Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and his companion kindled a fire with fagots and soon had it burning briskly. Each took opposite sides of the fire and lay down to sleep for the night.

Some time during the night the crafty Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ sat up and blew the fire up in such manner that sparks and coals fell all over Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ as he lay asleep. But the latter arose suddenly and asked, “Why have you done this unreasonable thing?” The old man dissimulatingly replied, “Oh! that was probably caused by a gust of wind driving the sparks over your body.” Then they lay down again. Again, just before the break of day, the old man once more blew the fire on his seemingly sleeping companion. Thereupon the latter arose, and taking his bow and flint-pointed arrow, crossed over the fireplace to the place where his companion was lying. He was surprised to see him awake, looking at him. The old man deprecatingly said, “Oh, my nephew! you do not seem to know that you were nearly burned up, as the fire was falling on you; and you must not think that it was I who did this to you.” Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ was greatly astonished at what had happened and said to his companion, “If you do not refrain from what you are doing it is possible for me to destroy you.”

When it was nearly daylight sounds were heard in the camp ahead and the occupants started on their journey; then the two in turn started on their way. They had not gone very far when they heard sounds in the distance which told them that they had arrived at the place in which were congregated all the people who were shooting at the mark.

Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ kept right on their way until they reached the spot. The nephew did not fear anything. Once on the ground they were quickly made aware that a tree stood there and that on its top sat a hawk (?) or hawks (?). There was a large number of people who were engaged in shooting at the prize, seemingly fastened to the top of the trees, which stood in the dooryard of the old woman who dwelt in this place; but all failed to hit the mark. A short distance from the place where the people were engaged in shooting at the mark there stood a lodge, in which the old woman, the mother of the family, walked to and fro, murmuring, “He who will hit that thing which is perched on the top of my tree shall marry my youngest daughter.” She kept on saying this as she went from place to place. Without cessation, day after day for many days the marksmen kept on shooting at the hawk (?) perched on the top of the old woman’s tree. Sometimes an arrow would fly very close to the bird, which would merely flap its wings; at this the assembly would give a loud shout of encouragement. At once the old woman would come forth on the run and would ask anxiously, “Who is it that hit the mark? Who is it that is my son-in-law?” But the people would reply, “It is not true that one has hit it. No one has done so.” Then she would return to her lodge somewhat disappointed.

Now the people began to say among themselves, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has arrived, and he is immune (from the influence of hostile orenda).” Then he said to the assembly, “Now it is my turn to shoot. It is not certain what will take place when I shoot. You will see what happens.” He strung his bow, and all the people became quiet and attentive as they watched him. Assuming a suitable position and taking aim, the young man drew his arrow to the very point and then let it fly. Without a hitch, the arrow struck fairly in the center of the bird’s body, causing the bird to fall over on the opposite of the tree, whence, with wings feebly flapping, it fell to the ground. At this the assembly broke out in a loud shout of applause—so loud that one would think the sound struck the heavens. The old woman came up on the run, anxiously asking, “Who is he that has become my son-in-law?” All the people rushed forward to the place where lay the bird with the arrow still sticking in its body.

It so happened that one of the marksmen would run up and attempt to withdraw the arrow, but would fail,[412] and then another, and then another; but they all failed. Again Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, coming up, said, “Who has become my son-in-law?” As the marksmen failed to withdraw the arrow, she continued, “He who shall be able to withdraw the arrow shall be my son-in-law.” Just then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ came up, saying, “All stand back. This is my arrow.” The people drew back, and he walked up to the bird and, as he walked along, he drew out the arrow. Then the old woman said, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has become my son-in-law,” and, taking him by the arm, she led him back to her lodge. Then the people dispersed in all directions. Then the old woman and her companion reached her lodge, in one side of which was a sort of apartment occupied by her daughter, who was born with a caul, and hence was regarded as of noble birth. The epithet applied to such maidens and young men is “down fended.” The old woman, leading the young man into this apartment, said to her daughter, “This man has become my son-in-law. He is called Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, and he is immune from enchantment.”

The young man then took up his abode in his wife’s family. Hō! He remained there for a long time. Then he said, “I shall go on a hunt,” and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his three brothers-in-law, “Come with me to hunt.” Having accepted his invitation, they started on their hunting trip, but they had not gone very far when they were surprised by a small herd of deer, which fled from them. Then the young bridegroom said to his brothers-in-law, “Remain here, and I alone will pursue them from place to place.” In a short time he shot at one and hit it, and it fell. Then, following the remaining deer, he killed them one by one. Thereupon he stopped, and hailing his brothers-in-law, said to them, “Come hither, my brothers-in-law, and let us dress these deer.” So they went to him and took part in the skinning of the deer. When they had finished dressing the carcasses they began at once to pack the pelts and the venison into suitable bundles in such manner as was customary in the early time. When they were all ready they bore these bundles on their backs by means of the forehead strap—the usual and the most convenient method of carrying heavy burdens; and they started for their home with Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ in the lead.

Having arrived at their lodge, they laid their packs of venison and pelts at the feet of their mother, who wept for the great joy she had in receiving so much venison, saying: “I am very thankful to my son-in-law for this bounty, and on my part I will fulfill my duty in providing the feast of the ‘eat-all-up,’ [413] which shall take place tomorrow.” So the next morning they put the kettles over the fire in the early dawn, and the daughters set to work industriously to prepare food for the approaching feast. Suddenly the old woman, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, went out of the lodge and ran through the village, saying to the people: “The feast of eat-all-up is to be held at my lodge. Let all go directly to the place whence I have come, and start at once.” This she said as she went through the village, and then she returned to her own home. Then her daughters and sons removed the kettles from the fire; and they placed the corn-meal mush and the venison, cooked in pieces, in bark trays and bowls which they had ready to receive the prepared food.

Now people began to arrive, and they sat down and became very quiet. At this time the old woman, the mother of the daughters of the lodge, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ said, addressing the assembly: “Now, you who have come here this day know that the usual custom for a feast of this kind shall be followed. You who have come in by invitation shall first eat your shares of the food; and it was for this reason that I desired a feast of eat-all-up as my thanks offering; and when you have finished eating, then my children and I will eat. For such is the custom when one marries. Now, then, you must eat. You must eat up all that is apportioned to you, for this is the reason that this feast is called the feast of eat-all-up.”

Thereupon the neighbors began to eat. They ate during the entire day; they ate the venison; they enjoyed also the corn-meal mush; and they kept saying as they ate, “I am thankful for this food,” each as he felt satisfied. Thus in time they fulfilled the rites of the feast of eat-up-all, which is usually given when one is married; they ate up all that had been prepared for them—a good omen for the newly married couple. Then each went his way home. But there was one matter which was postponed until the next day.

The day after the feast of eat-all-up there took place what Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ had said would come to pass. He had said, “I crave a smoke, and so very early tomorrow morning you, my mother-in-law, must again go around and invite your neighbors, telling them as you go from place to place that your son-in-law is about to take a smoke, and that he will then disgorge wampum beads.” Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, the mother-in-law, replied with joy, “So let it come to pass,” and she went forth again to issue invitations to her neighbors, represented by small sticks, saying: “I extend to you hereby an invitation to come to my lodge. My son-in-law, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, is going to smoke, and he will then disgorge wampum beads.” So saying, she visited all her neighbors, and then she returned to her own home.

Having reached home, she said to her son-in-law, “In a short time the people will have assembled here.” Shortly after, the people began to come. They seated themselves in the lodge and became very quiet. Then the old woman, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, placing a bench or block of wood in the center of the room, called to her son-in-law, “Oh, my son-in-law, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, come hither.” At this he came forth from the place wherein the “noble” or “down-fended” maiden lived. Seating himself on the block provided by his mother-in-law, he threw over his knee the entire skin of a woman,[414] which still had the head affixed to it; the eyes winked and moved from side to side. Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ took from his pouch his pipe and filled it with tobacco. The tobacco which he used was a mixture of native tobacco, hemlock gum, spicebush bark, and red willow bark.414a When he placed it in his pipe this mixture emitted a very pleasant odor.

Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his mother-in-law, “You must spread out here a tanned buckskin.” So she hastened to obey his instructions and spread a buckskin on the ground in front of him and between his feet as he sat on the block of wood. In explanation of what he was about to do, he said: “Oh, my mother-in-law, all the wampum that shall fall on this buckskin shall belong to you; but the wampum that shall fall away from this skin shall be for prizes to those of the assembly who may be able to seize it, for all will struggle to obtain some. This will take place twice, for I will draw into me the smoke several times. The first time that I draw in the smoke I will disgorge black wampum beads; but the second time I will disgorge white wampum beads. So the people may strive to obtain some of the beads which fall away from the buckskin. This is what will take place.” After a moment’s deliberation he said to the woman’s skin, “Do thou, my human skin, light my pipe; the fire is yonder.” Thereupon the woman’s skin brought a coal from the fire and placed it in his pipe while he held it in his mouth. Then he drew in the smoke with the sound huʻkt, and then he disgorged, saying Hwuʹʼw; and the beads in falling made the sound dāʹ. His mother-in-law took up a large quantity of the beads from the buckskin. But for those beads which fell away from the buckskin the people struggled among themselves. In the strife the people created a great noise and uproar, for everyone attempted to get all that he possibly could. He who was quick was able, of course, to lay hold of the greatest quantity, and the slowest could obtain but a few of these wampum beads. Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said, “Now this time the wampum beads will be of a black color.” His mother-in-law, as was the custom on such occasions, spread another buckskin on the ground. Then he drew in the smoke a second time and at once disgorged wampum beads which were entirely black in color; some of these fell on the buckskin and some away from it. As before, the people engaged in a lively contest for the beads which fell away from the buckskin, thus creating a great uproar. He who was active secured the most of the beads in these contests. Now Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said, “This affair is over entirely, and all people must return to their homes.” At this all the people departed from the lodge of Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʼ and went to their several homes.

Things remained thus for a long time and the couple lived quietly together as husband and wife. One day Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his mother-in-law: “I am now thinking that she who lives with me and I will return to the place where my uncle, my mother’s brother, dwells. I do not know whether or not he is still alive, and for this reason we two will go back there. Now, my mother-in-law, I am going to tell you what I am thinking. I am not certain in my mind that you would be willing for me to suggest that you and my old uncle should mutually care for each other. You two are fine-looking and are about the same in age and bodily condition. How is it? Will you be willing to undertake this condition?” To this the mother-in-law answered, “Oh, my son! indeed your mind and thought suit me well. What you have suggested shall come to pass as you have said, provided your uncle is still in good health and alive when we shall arrive at the place where he lives. I will accompany you two home, my daughters will remain here with my sons and they will not want for anything.” So the next morning she was fully prepared with food for the journey to the former home of her son-in-law, and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his former companions on his journey homeward, “Let us now return to my home; and we bid you good-by.” So saying, he bade farewell to his brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law.

Then they departed on their long journey, and the bridegroom took his wife and his mother-in-law with him. They encamped on their way homeward many times. As soon as they arrived near the lodge of the young man’s uncle, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his two companions: “Stop here until I visit the lodge of my home to make a reconnoissance, for I do not know whether my uncle is yet alive or not. I will return soon.”

Thereupon he started on the run to his home. Arriving there, he found his uncle eating his midday meal. The old man quickly arose and seized the young man, saying, “Now hast thou returned? Is it thou, my nephew? Art thou Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ?” The nephew replied, “I it is, Uncle.” “Where is my daughter-in-law?” asked the old man. The nephew answered, “Oh, my uncle! she and another halted at a place not far from here, while I came here to make a reconnoissance to learn whether you were still alive or not. I am married in fact, and what is more than this, I have brought with me my mother-in-law. They two are very fine-looking women. I have thought very seriously of your age and also of the age of my mother-in-law, and you two seem suitable in this respect one for the other. I have already told her that I have thought well of having you two abide together as husband and wife. Oh, my uncle! I have now said to you what I intended to say. My mother-in-law is very thankful to me for my kindness in this matter and for my desire to make you and her happy and contented. Thus have I thought about this matter. Now will you agree to what I have proposed for your welfare?” Greatly pleased, the uncle exclaimed, “Oh, my nephew! how thankful I am for your kind effort in my behalf. Let me dress myself, and you may now bring the woman.” Delighted with the reception his uncle gave the marital proposal, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ ran back to the place where the two women were anxiously awaiting his return. On arriving there, he exclaimed: “He lives! He lives and is in the best of health. He is eating. Let us go to him.” Thereupon they started for the lodge.

When they reached there they found the old man dressed and ready to receive them. As they entered the lodge the old man, tapping his couch several times, said gently to the mother-in-law, “Here you may abide.” She came forward and took her seat beside him, and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ and his wife seated themselves opposite, putting the fireplace between them as was the custom for families to do in the ancient time. Then the old man said to his nephew: “I am indeed thankful that you have been able to overcome difficulties of all kinds along your path to and fro. You have heroically braved all. Now, you must hunt, and mother and daughter shall live in contentment and peace.”

So Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ spent his time in hunting. Day after day he hunted. He knew well what animals to kill. Thus it came to pass in the ancient time that they dwelt together in peace and harmony and great contentment.

This is the end of the tale.

110. GAJIHSONDIS, THE AMULET-HITTER [415]

(A LEGEND OF THE CONTROL OF THE GAME ANIMALS)

An old man and his grandson, who was very small, lived together in a lodge for a long time, during which they occupied opposite sides of the fire, as was customary among their people. The little grandson played by himself on his side of the fire, rolling about in the dust and ashes. The old man was quite anxious at times about the future of the boy.

There came a time when the old man saw the child sitting about in different places on his side of the fire. Finally the child was surprised to hear the old man say in no kindly voice: “You will become a pitiable object if you continue in this way, for you are very small. It is necessary that you should do something to help yourself and provide yourself what you may need. A bow and arrows are perhaps the first of your needs.” So saying, the old man started making these for the boy, and when he had completed this task he went over to the place where the child was rolling about in the dust. Taking him in his arms, he said, “You must use these in this way,” and then standing the child on the ground, he said, “You must learn to shoot with these.” Then, grasping one of the hands of the child, the grandfather placed it on the bow in the usual position for shooting; then in the other hand he placed an arrow, at the same time instructing the child how to fit the two together in proper positions for shooting. Then the old man himself drew the bowstring, telling the little grandson, “This is the way you must ordinarily do.” In this manner he instructed his grandson in the art of shooting with a bow and arrow, and the child was not long in learning how to do it. Again he told him: “That is the way you must continue to do it.”

Afterward the old man drew forth his bundle of trinkets and treasures, and taking therefrom the foot of a raccoon he fastened it to a staff, which he set upright a long distance away, saying to his grandson: “You must shoot at this continually, and whenever you hit it you must say ‘Gajihsondis.’ This you must say, and I shall then learn what a good shot you are.” Now the child did indeed follow his grandfather’s instructions.

Finally the time came when the old man said to his grandson: “I will now free you from my tutelage and now you must depend on yourself. No matter where you may be you must keep saying ‘Gajihsondis’ whenever you may hit any object—even this foot of the raccoon.” Therefore the old man paid no more attention to the welfare of his grandson. The latter ran around at pleasure for a long time. At last he asked his grandfather this question: “My grandfather, where are our kinsmen?” In answering him the old man told his grandson a number of things. Pointing off a long distance he replied: “They have gone far away to a place where lives a great beast. It is impossible for anyone to reach this place in seven years.” Without replying the youth kept on playing, as was his custom. Some time after while at play he arose and, going to his old grandfather, asked “What is the exact direction of that place whither our kinsmen have gone?” Going out of the lodge and standing beside the doorway the old man pointed far away straight toward the place where their relations had gone. He said: “There in that distant place is a spring of water in which lives the great beast, and in that place all our former kinsfolk perished.”

The youth answered, “Now, my grandfather, I will go to that place.” Very early the next morning, it is said, the youth, taking his bow and arrows, started on his long journey, saying, “Oh, my grandfather! I start now.” After a while the old man went out of the lodge, and, standing beside the doorway, said, “Kuʹ; he is indeed going a very long way off. It may be that he will be able to go there.” With these words the old man reentered the lodge.

How now with regard to the youth? Starting at a slow running gait, finally he reached a place which his grandfather had indicated to him, and after going over a mountain which was on his way he came to a lake, in the middle of which he was surprised to see floating about a white waterfowl. Taking aim, the youth at once shot at this strange fowl; the shot went so true that the fowl merely fell on its side dead. Pulling hairs from his head, the youth spliced them together until he had produced a cord sufficiently long for his purpose. This he cast out on the lake, and by this means was enabled to draw the body of the waterfowl to shore. At once he rushed up to the body and fell upon it. Soon he had prepared it so it could be borne on his back by means of the forehead strap. Then the youth started for home, and when he arrived at his grandfather’s lodge he said, “There now. I bring a very large animal.”

After looking at the body, his grandfather said, in reply: “Oh! this is not the right thing on which to be avenged.” The youth answered, “So be it, then. I will take it back to its home, as it seems proper to do.” Having packed the body by means of the forehead strap, he started for the place whence he had brought the great animal. On arriving at the shore of the lake he cast the animal down on the ground, saying, “As to you, I shall leave you here, and, furthermore, you must come to life again.” Then, starting for home, the youth was not long in reaching the lodge of his grandfather, to whom he said: “I have now released the animal.” He did not delay in resuming his sports around the lodge, and continued them for a time.

One day when weary with playing he went up to his old grandfather, with the words, “Come now, just tell me the exact direction to take to go to the lair of the great animal of which you have told me such awful things.” The old man replied, “So be it.” Going out of the lodge he stood there. As soon as he had taken a suitable position he said to the youth: “Here it is; it is just here. As soon as you start and have gone quite a distance, then verily you will see that this pathway has the habit of shrinking back.[416] This will be taking place continually, and this is the reason that it will require seven years to reach the place where is the spring which you are seeking. This path is one, too, of great danger and difficulty, for in that place dwell female beings which feed on human flesh, and it is they who devoured all the kinsfolk we had.”

After hearing this and following with his eyes the direction shown by his old grandfather, the youth started. After the lapse of some time the old man again said, “Let me see where he is.” Going out of the lodge, he stood looking around for his grandson, whom he finally saw disappearing in the distance. He mused with himself, saying: “It is certain, I believe, that he will be able to accomplish the feat of reaching the place where are the pitfalls set by the eaters of human flesh.”

When the youth arrived at the spring, he was indeed very thirsty. At once he decided to inspect the place in order to see how true was the saying of his grandfather that there lived in the spring a number of female beings (women?) possessed of great orenda (magic power). Thereupon the youth deliberately put his feet into the water. As soon as he did so the hideous being covered with scales quickly darted forward and snapped off his leg far above the knee. The youth merely laughed, saying, Hăʻhăʻ, and wondered what would happen if he placed his other leg in the water. On doing so, the being at once snapped off this leg also; but the youth merely laughed and said nothing. Finally he said, “Let it be so. Now perhaps I will fish with a line.” This he proceeded to do. For the purpose of carrying out his design he removed portions of flesh from his thighs, which he fastened on his hook. Just as soon as he cast the hook into the water the great being seized it, whereupon the youth pulled his adversary out of the water and cast its body aside. It is said that now the great being began to whimper, “My grandson, put me back into the water again.” But the youth, paying no attention to what it was asking him to do, again baited his hook and cast it into the waters. At once it was seized in the mouth of another one of the great wizard beings, which appeared in assumed shapes, and immediately the youth began to pull on his line, soon landing another of his adversaries. This, too, like the other, began to whimper, saying, “My grandson, will you please put me back into the water?” The youth replied: “I have no legs. You have broken off my legs.” At this the two beings came forward and began to work on his body. And the youth said to them in turn: “Do you two reset my legs. You see that I can not do it myself.” So the two beings, which were possessed of great orenda, obeying his instructions, put back his legs. Next the youth kindled a great fire, and just as soon as this was burning fiercely, seizing the hair of the male being, he cast him into the flames, and he did likewise with the body of the female being. When the bodies were consumed the heads of these beings exploded and out of them flew owls.[417]

Continuing a short distance, the youth found the lair of panthers which were fierce in aspect, for they were fighting. Raising his bow and arrow, he said to them, “Stop your anger, you two, for the place where you are belongs to me.”

Going on a short distance farther, he found a number of elk fighting in their turn. He said to them also, “Stop fighting, you two;” and they did stop fighting and separated. The youth told them, too, “This region belongs to me.”

Then there arose a great tumult and noise among the animals of all kinds. The youth saw there what seemed to be a long lodge, on the top of which owls were seated; these, too, were making outcries, saying “Hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ. Awake! a male human being is coming.” The youth now watched them, and he was surprised to find there lying down the body of some one who much resembled his grandfather, and he saw also everything that was inside the lodge. Among the things he saw was a kettle of corn mush, which was boiling over the fire. “I have found something which is perhaps good to the taste.”

Entering the lodge, he went to the farther side of the fire, whereupon from the opposite side of the fire a white deer came forth and entered the bosom of the old man. At this the youth started out of the lodge, and at once everything in the lodge began to leave. The breechclout of the old man went out, and the boiling mush, too, started out. The youth had gone a long distance before the old man awoke, exclaiming, “Pshaw! I think that he still has a grandson, that old man.” Straightening himself up, he said: “So let it be. I now believe that I also will start.”

Then the old man took his club from its usual resting place, the one with which he was accustomed to fight, and pursuing the youth, soon overtook him, as was to be expected. Addressing the youth, he said, “For what reason did you rob me as you have done?” So saying, he struck the youth a heavy blow, causing the young man to fall over in an unconscious condition; and he lay where he fell.

Thereupon the old man turned back homeward, and all the things that had started out also returned homeward. As he walked along the old man restored the body of the great beast and all other things which had been disturbed by the youth during his visit to him.

Meanwhile the youth regained consciousness, and, realizing his condition, exclaimed, “Wŭʻʹ, my head does certainly pain me; I believe that the old man has really killed me. So let it be. I think I will go back, perhaps, to the lodge of the old man.” When he reached the lodge, ho-wŭʻ, the owls were making a great outcry: “Awake you! Now, indeed, the male human being is again coming.” At this the youth exclaimed, “Do you keep quiet! these things, here.” Entering again the lodge by stealth, he saw there the war club resting in its place, the club with which the old man did his fighting; it was full of nicks from hard usage in combat. Thereupon the youth said, “Keep thyself still; and indeed, you must give me assistance at this time. We will awaken the old man to his death.” Again entering the lodge, the youth went to the back part of the lodge, where he took a seat. Again the very small white deer came forth and entered his bosom. Then he arose and stood there, and all the things on the inside of the lodge started to follow him out of it. Even the breechclout of the old man he took from him.

The youth had gone a long distance before the old man again awoke. Realizing what had taken place, the latter exclaimed, “Gwăʻʹ. He is alive again, I believe. Now, indeed, he shall suffer for this. I will do him harm in many places.” Then the old man started, after which he exclaimed, “Kwŭʻʹ! I have forgotten that, I have not painted my face, as is the custom, for I believe that I shall have to fight with one who is, it seems, a brave man, this youth.” Having poured dead coals into a basket, he carried them to a mortar standing near by, in which he began to pound the charred coals. He made a great noise in doing this, the blows with the pestle sounding “dum, dum, dum.” This action of the old man caused the youth to grow weak and faint as he walked along.

When the old man had finished pounding the coals he painted his face. Then he started in pursuit of the youth, saying, “I am following you.” The old man finally overtook the youth, whereupon he said to him, “Look here, my grandson! I am going to kill you.” The youth replied, “So let it be,” at the same time striking the old man a blow with the war club. Then they fought, and being evenly matched, the struggle was fierce. Thus the battle went on for some time until at last the youth succeeded in killing his grandfather. Then he started for home, followed by all the things that were in the lodge of the old man.

The youth did not realize the time it took him to arrive at the lodge of his living grandfather, who exclaimed: “You certainly have brought back home our great beast. How did you accomplish it? Was the old man willing for you to bring it home? Was he willing, too, for you to take all the things which you have brought back with you?” The youth replied, “I killed the old wizard.” At this his grandfather began to weep, saying, “Now, indeed, you have killed him who, when living, was my brother.” Without making any reply, the youth prepared to lie down for the night. The two occupied the same side of the fire.

As soon as the youth fell asleep, the old man, his grandfather, arose and, addressing the sleeping youth, said, “I suppose that I must now kill you, wicked man, in your turn.” Taking up his bow and three arrows and, going over to the opposite side of the fire, he shot three arrows into the back of the youth, his grandson, who was asleep. Then the old man returned to his bed and laid himself down again. Some time after this the youth awoke and said, “Kwŭʻʹ! indeed my back does give me much pain.” On examining it with his hands, he was surprised to find three arrows sticking in it. At this discovery he exclaimed, “Gūʻ! now, I suppose, I must depart from this place, for it seems that my grandfather has killed me. So be it then. I will now go far away.” He started at once on his journey, and all the things which he had taken from his dead grandfather went with him—his grandfather’s breechclout and also the mush—these all went along. As soon as the old man saw that these things started to leave, he began to weep. So the youth left his grandfather.

When the youth had gone a long distance from his home, he was surprised to find a village of people. Leaving his slaves and domestics near the village, he went to the first lodge, where he visited. He found in this lodge a young man who resembled himself very closely in age, size, and manners. It was soon customary for them to go around together. It is said that they two kept company with each other wherever they went. Finally the youth from the village said, “Kūʻ, game is indeed very scarce. Where may be the game animals? Perhaps they have gone far away to seek subsistence. Possibly they have gone to the place where dwells the great beast.” In reply, the visiting youth said to his friend, “I am, it is known, called the great beast.” The other youth answered, “Aā, it is true. So be it. I will now show you where abide my domestic (game) animals.”

Then the two youths departed from the place and at last came to the spot where dwelt the great beast, the prototype of all others.

The youth from the village now said to his friend: “I will now give up all the animals over which I have control, that they may go over the whole earth and dwell in freedom; that they may increase and multiply at their will and go and come as seems good to them. Then the noises made by all the animals became great in the world.

This is the story.

111. THE LEGEND OF HONENHINEH AND HIS YOUNGER BROTHERS

In times long past Honenhineh and his younger brothers dwelt in a lodge together; the lodge was constructed of bark and was very long, according to the custom of the country. There were three fires occupying the place provided for fire along the midway of the lodge.

These brothers dwelt thus together for a long time in this long lodge. It was their custom to go out into the forests daily to hunt game animals, and every evening those who had gone out that day to hunt returned, bearing each his burden of venison or other flesh, which would be cast down in the middle of the floor space of the lodge. It was usually dressed when packed for carrying; this was done for convenience. Then one of the brothers who had not been out hunting would unpack the bundle and proceed at once to cut up the meats and to hang them up for drying all along the sides of the lodge. This was the daily routine of these hunters of the lodge of Honenhineh. Thus they traveled much in many places in the forests.

At times, when all but the youngest brother, who was still very small, started out to hunt, one of the elder brothers would produce the foot of a raccoon, and throwing it to the end of the lodge, he would say to the youngest brother, “Here! This is something with which you can amuse yourself.” Then, when he would be ready to start he would scatter ashes around the doorway in such manner that no person or thing could enter the lodge without leaving tell-tale tracks to betray the intruder. Afterward he would say to the small boy, “Oh, youngest brother! You must not leave the lodge; you must not go outside of it.” So it was that this youngest brother never went outside of the lodge and did not know what the light of outdoors was like. The name of this boy was Little Burnt Belly.[418] The youngster amused himself daily by tossing up the raccoon’s foot and shooting at it while it was in the air. It is said that he never missed the foot, for he had become an expert bowman from his daily practice. So the days went by for some time.

Then there came a day when the Honenhineh returned from hunting without bringing back anything in the way of game, but the other brothers returned, bringing large packs of venison and other meats and furs and skins. As each brother returned he saw the eldest brother Honenhineh lying on his couch in silence, but not one of them paid any further attention to him, for they had returned with heavy packs while he had brought back nothing. Remaining thus for some time, Honenhineh finally arose and unpacked the packs of his brothers and hung up the quarters of venison and bear’s meat and the flesh of other animals to dry, and he hung up also the skins and furs properly prepared to dry—some to be made into buckskin and others into furs for robes and other useful articles.

This state of affairs in the lodge continued for many days and nights, and Honenhineh continued to fast rigorously. At last one evening one of his younger brothers said to him, “Oh, elder brother! you should take some food.” But Honenhineh replied: “No, I will not do so now. Do you help yourselves and take what food you may need. In a short time I myself shall take some food. There has come a change in the manner of my life. The land over which I hunted has become deserted of all life. Tomorrow I shall start from here, going in a northerly direction this time.”

So, without breaking his fast, Honenhineh lay down on his couch and his brothers retired for the night. But late at night Honenhineh arose and, going to the fire, he gathered together the embers and firebrands to stir up the flames, close beside which, it is said, lay Little Burnt Belly. Honenhineh having stirred up the fire, the rising flames caused many sparks to fall on the uncovered legs of Little Burnt Belly, who passively bore the pain. The elder brother, after watching the effect of the sparks, finally said, “Oh! my younger brother is very sleepy.” But in this he was deceived, for his younger brother, having made a small aperture in the skin with which he was covered, was watching all that he was doing. It is said that the skin was that of an old she-bear. Thus deceived, the elder brother prepared some food for himself and ate what he wanted of it. While watching him the youngest brother fell asleep. In the morning the youngest brother arose after his brothers had gone out on their hunting trips, and was very anxiously watching for the proposed departure of his brother Honenhineh after his long fast. When he had made all his preparations he said to his youngest brother, “Now I have started,” adding, “Do not, my brother, go outside of this lodge.” Then, taking out of his pouch suddenly a bear’s foot and casting it into the middle of the lodge, he said, “Here! Thou shalt amuse thyself with this object by using it as a target continuously.” On going out of the lodge, he scattered ashes all about the entrance so that nothing could enter without disturbing the ashes and so showing what it was that entered the lodge. On starting away, he said to his youngest brother, “For this journey I am going toward the north to hunt.” So saying, he departed from the lodge.

Honenhineh kept on his northward course for a long time. When the day was past the meridian, on looking ahead he saw what appeared to him a number of clearings. When he emerged from the forest into these clearings he stopped and looked around; then he walked along slowly for some time.

Ahead of him a great deep gorge or valley yawned.

Scarcely had he taken a good look at this gorge when he heard in the distance an ominous tapping on a tree and the voice of a man singing: “It is a fortunate thing for me. A human being is walking along on the farther side of the valley.” Somewhat surprised, Honenhineh exclaimed: “Wūʼʹ! A man has discovered me. I suppose that he has treed a bear. Well, so be it; I will go thither.” So saying, he started down into the valley on a brisk run. As he ran along he came to a ridge, or shelf, leading into the valley, and he was startled by seeing pieces of bark fall all about him several times. Stopping and raising his head to look up into a tree standing in front of him, he saw a flicker, or yellowhammer, clinging to the tree trunk far above the ground, looking at him. As he looked at the flicker it began to smile at him and audibly said, “He who has the bow is well known to be a fairly bad shot,” and continued to smile at him. Honenhineh at once strung his bow and shot an arrow at this smiling yellowhammer, but the arrow flew wide of the mark, sticking harmlessly into the tree trunk. He shot all his arrows away in this manner without disconcerting the yellowhammer in any way.

Withdrawing a short distance, Honenhineh broke his bow and threw away the pieces. Then he said: “So be it. Let me pass on in my way yonder.” He continued onward until he reached the bottom of the valley, when he stopped to look around; ahead of him he saw a lodge out of which arose smoke. He resolved at once to go up to the lodge and started toward it. Going along slowly, he finally reached the side of the lodge, where he stood still. But he had not come to a halt before he heard from within the lodge the voice of a man saying to him: “My grandson, thou hast visited my lodge; so come in.” Honenhineh, at once obeying the summons, entered the lodge.

On looking around, he saw before him a young maiden seated, who was engaged in weaving a pack strap from the strands of slippery-elm bark prepared for this purpose. The man of the lodge said to the maiden, “Do thou make room on thy mat for the man who has entered our lodge, for you and he do now become husband and wife.” Complying with this request, the young maiden made room on her mat for Honenhineh to sit beside her.

Then the elderly man said to her, “My granddaughter, prepare some food and set it before him who has entered our lodge, for he is probably hungry. With dried green corn as it cooks in the pot you must mix dried venison pounded fine, and into this mixture you must put a sufficient quantity of maple sugar and a quantity of bear’s grease or fat, to make the whole savory and appetizing.” The old man’s granddaughter at once obeyed, and after kindling the fire to make it burn briskly, she set a pot of water over it containing a quantity of dried sweet green corn. Bringing maple sugar from her store in a bark case, she put it into the pot with the corn. Then, procuring the dried venison and the bear’s grease, having pounded them fine, she put these ingredients also in the pot to cook with the other things. When she found that the corn soup was cooked she removed the pot from the fire and set it aside to permit the contents to cool. When it was sufficiently cooled the young maiden, taking up a portion of the soup with a ladle, placed it in a bark bowl and, setting it before Honenhineh, said to him, “Take this and eat it. I have prepared it for you.” Honenhineh, being quite hungry, willingly ate what was set before him.

It was not long after Honenhineh had finished eating that night came. Before the evening was far advanced the old man said, “Let us now retire for the night. Our guest has come here tired out in all probability, for he has traveled a long distance.” So they lay down for the night. Then the old man said, “My granddaughter, let me tell my story,” and he began to sing, “It is said that there were eight brothers who lived in a lodge.” This was the topic of the story which he chanted three times.

After waiting a few moments he said in a stage whisper to the sleeping visitor, “My grandson, are you listening to my story?” The only reply he received was the loud snoring of the guest. Presently the old man exclaimed, “The game animals are just toying with me. Why, one has even come into my lodge (to show its contempt for me).” So saying, the old man arose and took down his war club from its resting place, and approaching the sleeping visitor, he killed him with blows on the head. Then, replacing his club, he got out a huge clay pot, which he set over the fire after placing some water in it. Next he quartered the body of his victim and placed all the pieces in the pot to cook. While engaged in this gruesome work he kept saying, “I still can deal with the game animals which visit my lodge in my approved way, and so I am still able to eat the flesh of the most rare game animals.”