Chapter XXXV: Part 2 (3)

In the meantime, when night came on the lodge of Honenhineh and his younger brothers, the brothers returned one by one until all were there except the eldest, Honenhineh, who of course did not return. His absence was duly noted. The brother next in age said, “I met him just this side of the Great Valley.” The following morning the brother next in age to Honenhineh started out on his brother’s trail to seek for him. He had gone along for some time when he was surprised to find the tracks of his brother, which he at once followed. Before long he saw ahead of him light through the trees from clearings in the forest, and he found also indisputable evidence that his brother had stood there. So he started forward slowly and finally came to the top of a hill overlooking the Great Valley, where he stood still for a moment. While standing there he heard the sound of a blow struck by a war club on the opposite side of the valley, and he heard the voice of a man singing, “I am indeed fortunate, for on the opposite side of the valley a human being walks along.” After thinking a few moments, he exclaimed: “Pshaw! This is all right. There is where my elder brother is moving about from place to place. Perhaps he has treed some animal or has found an animal in its lair. It must be a bear, I think. So be it; I shall go thither.”

In pursuance of his resolution, he resumed his brother’s trail and descended into the valley until he came to a bench, or terrace, where he stopped for a moment. Here he was surprised to see pieces of bark fall several times around him. Looking up into a tree near by, he saw clinging to the trunk far above the ground a small flicker, or yellowhammer. The bird smiled at him, exclaiming, “He has a bow in his hand just as if he could use it, for it is well known that he is quite a poor marksman.” At this the young man at once strung his bow and shot an arrow at the bird, whereupon he was surprised to see the arrows of his brother stuck in the tree. His first shot missed the bird, as did all the others. When all his arrows had been shot away, stuck fast in the tree top, he broke his bow and cast it away. Now, he was greatly surprised to see the pieces of his bow fall beside those of his brother’s bow. While he was shooting at the bird, it merely smiled and said, “It is curious that one who is a poor marksman generally goes about with a bow and arrows,” and it was only when he had lost all his arrows that he drew aside in disgust and destroyed his bow as a token that he did not care about what had happened to him. After casting away his bow the young man exclaimed: “Pshaw! I will go on farther, for I now hear my brother singing in the distance,” for he heard the voice of a man singing on the opposite side of the Great Valley.

Starting on a run down into the valley, he had not gone far before he saw ahead of him a field. When he reached the border of this he stood there a moment, but seeing in the distance a lodge and smoke issuing from it, he exclaimed: “So be it. Let me go to that lodge to see what I may find. My elder brother has gone there.”

When he reached the lodge the young man came to a halt, but he had no sooner done so than he heard the voice of a man inside say to him: “Oh, my grandson! come in; you have visited my lodge at this time.” Accepting this challenge, the young man entered, whereupon the old man said to him: “I am thankful that you have now paid our (two) lodge a visit.” In front of him the young man saw a young maiden seated on a couch, weaving a forehead pack strap from slippery-elm-bark fiber. Then the old man said to her: “Make room on your mat for our visitor, for you and he are to become husband and wife. I am so delighted by this visit, for we two are to be pitied, living alone in this lodge, I and my granddaughter.” Obeying her grandfather, the young maiden made room on her mat for the young man. Next the old man said to the young man: “You have come here looking for your elder brother, Honenhineh. He passed here. Yonder, not far away, stands another lodge. There is where your brother has gone; he will return soon, I think.” Turning to his granddaughter, the old man said: “Oh, granddaughter! prepare food for our visitor; he is perhaps hungry, having come a long distance. You must pound up dried green sweet corn and dried venison, and place these in a pot to cook, to make corn soup; and you must put into the pot also maple sugar and bear’s grease. When the soup is cooked, place a bowlful before our visitor and let him eat his fill.”

The maiden set to work preparing the corn soup, as she had been instructed to do. First she pounded up dried sweet green corn and then dried venison. Then, having placed a large clay pot over the fire with water in it, she put in the dried corn and venison, which soon began to cook. Presently she added maple sugar to her soup. While these were cooking, the old man got for her some bear’s grease, which he brought to her in a bowl, saying: “Oh, granddaughter, put this also in the pot of soup.” When the soup was cooked, the maiden removed the pot from the fire and the contents were then placed in bark bowls to cool. When ready, the young woman placed a large bowl of the soup before the young man, telling him to eat his fill. When he had eaten what was set before him he thanked the old man, his “grandfather,” who acknowledged the compliment by saying, “My grandson, you were to be pitied, for you were very hungry when you visited my lodge.”

It was not long after this that night came. Before night had fully settled down the old man said: “Let us retire to sleep. Our visitor has come to us very tired, I suppose. You should prepare a separate couch of bark. I am very anxious concerning the probable return of his elder brother tonight. At all events, I suppose he will probably return by tomorrow.” Having said this, the old man lay down, saying to the young man and the young woman: “Do ye two retire to sleep. I my own little self am asleep” (i.e., lying down to sleep).

After they had all retired for the night the old man said aloud, “Let me tell a tale,” and thereupon he began to sing, “They (masc.) have a lodge as a home, it is said; they are eight in number; they are lost (devoted to destruction).” He sang this song through three times. Now the young man began to snore loudly, for he had fallen sound asleep. In a short time the old man arose, and carefully readjusting his robe, said: “I am greatly perturbed in my mind. A game animal has come into my lodge on a visit.” Then taking down his war club and approaching his sleeping guest, he killed him by blows on the head.

Going to a corner of the lodge, he obtained there a great clay pot and, after putting water in it, he set it over the fire. Having quartered the body of his victim, he put it into the pot to cook. While he was engaged in this gruesome work he kept saying, “There is still no lack of power to do things in my manner of living, for I have no trouble to live. Game animals habitually come to my lodge.” So spake the old man, who was then cooking the entire body of a human being, and was happy. (It is said that he gave to his granddaughter the flesh of leeches to eat and putrid things also. She was not aware of what she was eating, for he had hypnotized her to think these things were proper and good. This granddaughter was a prisoner whom he had taken in one of his raids. But he himself ate human flesh in his lodge, and in order to satisfy his unnatural appetite he was engaged in killing people from all the neighboring settlements; this conduct agitated the entire country around.[419])

In the meanwhile the brothers of Honenhineh, it is said, were not very much surprised when night came and the next younger brother had not returned, for they suspected some harm had befallen both their missing brothers. Then the eldest of the remaining brothers said, “Well, it is now for me to go to find my brothers who have not returned from the north.” So in the morning when they had eaten their morning meal he started out alone on the northward trail to seek for his missing brothers. After having gone some distance from the lodge he found the tracks of the eldest of the two brothers and followed their lead.

While running along he suddenly saw ahead of him the light in the forest from clearings near by. Keeping on his course, he finally came to a large clearing or field, where he stopped to look around, because the tracks of his two brothers led him to this point. While examining the country he saw in the distance the Great Valley, and as the trail led thither he followed it until he came to the brink of the valley, where he stopped again to view the country around. At this point he heard a sound coming from the farther side of the valley, made by the blows of a club on a dead tree, and also the voice of a man who sang: “I am indeed lucky. On the opposite side of the valley there is a human being going along.” This song was repeated by the unknown singer. Thereupon the younger brother of Honenhineh said to himself: “It is strange that my two brothers have not given notice of this thing. It indeed seems certain that they have chased a bear to its lair; let me, then, go thither.”

So the young man started on a run down the slope leading into the valley along the trail made by his two brothers. Having run some distance, he suddenly noticed pieces of bark falling around him. At this he came to a halt and, looking up into a tree which stood near, saw high up on the trunk a small bird, a flicker or yellowhammer, now clinging to the tree trunk, and now flitting from place to place. As he raised his eyes to it the flicker, smiling, said, “He carries a bow and arrows pretentiously (as if he knew how to use them), although he is notoriously a very bad marksman.” Quickly stringing his bow the young man said to his tormentor, “Do not say anything more.” But the flicker only laughed, saying, “There is nowhere on this whole earth among the inhabitants a person living who has the ability to kill me.” The young man replied, “Be careful of thyself,” and he at once nocked his arrow. The flicker became visibly agitated and kept glancing at the young man furtively as it slowly crept around the tree trunk. Thereupon the young man shot at it, and then he saw not far from the spot occupied by the flicker the two shocks of arrows which belonged to his two brothers. The aim of the young man and his orenda were such that the arrow hit its mark, becoming fixed in the body of the flicker, which uttered a loud wail of despair and fell to the ground.

The young man did not withdraw his arrow, but took it up with the flicker’s body transfixed by it and placed it on his shoulder, thus to carry his victim. In the meantime the flicker kept saying, “You should let me go free again. I am doing nothing wrong.” But the young man replied, “No. I will not let you go free. I desire to show you to my two brothers.” With these words he resumed his journey.

He had not gone very far when he reached a clearing, at the border of which he stopped to look around. He saw at some distance a lodge, out of which smoke arose, whereupon he said, “I will go thither to the lodge. My two elder brothers are certainly idling away their time, for I believe that they are both there in that lodge.” He came to this conclusion because he noticed that the tracks of his two brothers led to the lodge. Having reached the side of the lodge, he came to a halt. He had no sooner stopped walking than a man’s voice inside challenged him, saying, “Come, my grandson. Thou hast come to visit me in my lodge.” On entering, the youth was greatly surprised to see before him a fine-looking young maiden, who was seated on her couch weaving a forehead pack strap from the prepared fibers of slippery-elm bark. The old man said to his young visitor: “It has been, indeed, a very, very long time that I have been looking for you to pay me a visit. I have been saying that a great hunter is on his way here. There sits my granddaughter whom you are to marry. Granddaughter, move along on your mat to give him room to sit beside you.” As the young man passed him the old man noticed that he was carrying something that he had killed, and he quickly arose, saying: “Give me the body that you are carrying. That is indeed a very fine game animal which you have killed on your way here.” The young man replied, “No. I will not give it up until I first see my two brothers.” To this the old man rejoined, “They passed here, and so they will return here, perhaps very soon.” Then, turning to the young maiden, he added: “Prepare some food for him. He has come here hungry, perhaps. You must procure a quantity of dried green sweet corn, which you must pound in a mortar, and also dried venison, which likewise must be pounded fine. Set a pot containing water over the fire, and into this you must put the pounded corn and venison, adding a quantity of maple sugar, dried huckleberries, and lastly bear’s grease.”

The young woman hastened to prepare the corn soup in the manner in which she had been instructed by her old “grandfather,” and it was not long before the soup was cooked and ready to be eaten. At this time the old man brought from an adjoining room a bowl of bear’s grease, which he gave to the young woman, who put it into the pot of soup. Having done this, she removed the pot from the fire and set it where the contents would cool. Presently she placed a large bowlful before the young man, who ate it with a good appetite, and he gave thanks to his host for what he had eaten. Night coming on shortly after this, the three persons began to get ready for retiring. At this time the old man said to his guest, “You should give me the body of the bird which you have brought with you. You will leave it with me to keep for you.” But the youth replied, “I will not give it up to you.” To this the old man answered, in a threatening manner, “I am greatly agitated in my mind. Let us retire for the night. A game animal has indeed come into my lodge. I am now an old man. Still there is nothing that curbs my orenda (I am unaffected by any influence). I am bound to get back my own bird at any cost.”

So saying, he arose and, going aside, he took down his war club. Then, returning to the side of the young man, he said, “Do thou give up to me the body of the bird which you have.” The answer came, “I will not give it up to you.” The old man, now in a great rage, retorted: “You are risking your life. You are about to die, and you can not escape from it.” With these words he raised his war club, shouting, “Will you hand me the bird, or not?” But the young man still replied, “No. I will not give it up to you.” Then the old man struck the youth on the head with the club and killed him. Thus he recovered the body of the bird and gave back its life [420] (which was that of a female relation of the old man).

These events gave great pleasure to the old man, who went around saying: “There is nothing that yet affects my orenda; I am not suffering in any manner; no one from any place can come here who is able to treat me lightly.” So the old man was quite happy. Having brought out his great clay pot, with water in it, he set it over the fire, and after quartering the body of the young man, he placed it all in the pot to cook. After a suitable time he remarked, “It is perhaps cooked now.” He kept on looking into the pot from time to time to see whether the flesh was done. As it seemed not to cook thoroughly, the old man was greatly concerned about it, and continued saying, “There is something wrong; otherwise it would be possible to cook this thoroughly.” Finally, getting out of patience, the old man removed the pot from the fire and ate the raw flesh.

Now, in the lodge of the brothers there was anxiety when night came and none of the brothers who had gone northward had returned, and the five remaining brothers were wondering what had befallen them. When those who were left were back in their lodge Little Burnt Belly said, “Oh, elder brother! you must go tomorrow to bring them back.” Then they retired for the night and went to sleep. In the morning they arose and all except Little Burnt Belly went to hunt, as usual. The latter seated himself beside the fire and there he sat all day long without moving. When evening came the two missing brothers had not returned, and the hunting brothers came back empty handed, having killed nothing during the day. They all saw Little Burnt Belly seated beside the fire, silent and motionless.

The brothers retired for the night and slept soundly. When daylight came and they arose they saw Little Burnt Belly still seated beside the fire. He maintained the one position and said nothing to any of his brothers. When they ate their breakfast he did not arise to have his share. The other brothers then left the lodge to go out hunting for game animals for food. After they had gone Little Burnt Belly arose, saying, “Let me amuse my elder brothers.” Thereupon he then took down his bow and arrows, and shot two arrows up out of the smoke-hole of the lodge.

As the brothers were engaged in the chase at no great distance one from another, they were greatly surprised to see a very large deer rush up to them and fall dead at their feet, and soon another deer did likewise. They saw that an arrow protruded from the body of each deer—a circumstance which was very mysterious to them. As quickly as possible one of the brothers rushed up to the stricken deer, and breaking off a leaf, wrapped it around the arrow before touching it with his hand to draw it forth, saying, “I do not desire to uncharm my youngest brother’s arrow.” Then drawing out the arrow, he carefully laid it up in the fork of a tree. Having done this he started at once for home, carrying the whole body of the deer. Before it was dark Little Burnt Belly saw his elder brother bringing back the deer. Not long afterward the other brother came into the lodge bearing on his back the other deer properly packed for carrying. The other two brothers returned with them as guards.

They found Little Burnt Belly still seated before the fire. But when they were back in the lodge he said to them, “Our missing brothers have not yet returned home. Tomorrow I myself will go on their trail to seek for them.” After eating their evening meal they retired for the night and slept soundly. When morning came they prepared their usual breakfast and then started out to hunt. Thereupon Little Burnt Belly arose, and going to his couch procured such articles of apparel as he needed for his journey. He took also his bow and arrows, which were his immediate trust and dependence for accomplishing his task, for they were full of orenda (magic power), which he could control for his own use. He ate no breakfast; he needed none, for he desired to have all his faculties clear and alert. While seated beside the fire he had been taking suitable medicine to make him sound and clear visioned that he might be able to cope with the wizard whom he suspected of having destroyed his missing brothers.

Leaving the lodge, Little Burnt Belly shaped his course northward to find the trail of his three brothers. It was not long before he struck this, and he followed it on the run, presently entering a vast forest whose great trees made it dark and gloomy. He had been running for a large portion of the day when he saw daylight through the trees, from which he inferred that there must be a clearing ahead of him. Keeping his course, finally he came to the edge of a large clearing or field. As he saw the tracks of his brothers there, he stopped to look around. Immediately he heard a peculiar sound of tapping, and looking in the direction whence the sound seemed to come he perceived that it proceeded from the opposite side of a great valley just ahead of him. Making his way along to the brink of the valley he heard the voice of a man saying, “It seems that I am in luck, for on the opposite side of the valley a human being walks along.” He heard this voice three times. As the trail led him in the direction of the sound he said, “I think it my duty to follow this trail, for the voice may be that of one of my brothers (said ironically).”

So descending into the valley he came to a terrace or bench, along which he was following his brother’s tracks, when his attention was attracted by pieces of bark falling around him. Halting and looking up into a tree standing just at his side, he saw a small bird high up on the trunk, clinging to it and flitting at times from place to place. He saw that the bird pretended to be a flicker, or yellowhammer. When the flicker saw him looking up, it said with a laugh, “Some people who believe themselves possessed of orenda go about with bow and arrows just as if they knew how to use them, although they may be the poorest of marksmen.” Pointing an arrow at it, Little Burnt Belly said: “Be careful of thyself. Some people trust their orenda too far, for they lay claim to too much power for their own good.” At once the flicker became visibly agitated, and kept glancing at Little Burnt Belly furtively, as it slowly crept around the tree trunk. At an opportune moment he let fly an arrow, which pierced the body of the flicker, causing it to fall to the ground without uttering a sound. Little Burnt Belly did not fail to notice the shocks of arrows sticking in the tree trunk near the spot where the flicker was clinging and to recognize them as belonging to his brothers; he saw also their broken bows, and knew that they were in the power of some wizard.

Taking up his arrow with the flicker still pierced by it, and placing it over his shoulder, he resumed his journey. He was not long in coming to the lodge which he had seen in the distance, and to which the trail of his brothers had led him. As he drew near, a man’s voice within said, “Oh, my grandson! come in; I am thankful that you have come to visit me.” On entering the lodge he saw an old man whom he recognized as a cannibal, and he saw also before him, seated on her couch, a fine-looking young maiden. The old man exclaimed: “I have been looking for you for a very, very long time. I have said all along that a great hunter was on his way to visit me. There sits my granddaughter whom you are to marry. Granddaughter, move along, and give him some room by you.” As Little Burnt Belly passed the old man the latter saw that he was carrying something which he had killed, and he arose quickly, saying: “Do give me the body of that thing which you have killed, for it is indeed a very fine game animal.” But Little Burnt Belly replied: “I will not give it up. I will first see my missing brothers.” The old man persisted, however, saying: “You should give me that bird. I am greatly agitated in my mind. Nothing yet has curbed my orenda. I will get back that bird at any cost. A game animal has now come to my lodge.” Little Burnt Belly retorted: “You are boasting of the invulnerability of your orenda, but this bird contains your life, and I am your master, and you know it. You have long ago forfeited your life by all your murders and cannibalism, so now you shall die.” So saying, Little Burnt Belly crushed his head with the blows of his war club. Then he liberated the slave, or prisoner, of the cannibal from the effects of drugs which had been given her by her master, and after bringing back to life his own brothers, who had been devoured by the cannibal, they all returned to the lodge of Honenhineh.

112. THE LEGEND OF GODASIYO

In the beginning of time, when the earth was new, when the inhabitants of it spoke but a single tongue, when these good people dwelt in perfect harmony and peace, and when the several settlements lived in such manner that there were no quarrels or contentions among them, there dwelt in one of these settlements, or villages, Godasiyo, a woman, who was the chief of her village.

The village over which Godasiyo held sway was situated beside a very large river; in fact, it occupied both sides of this important stream. It was the custom of the people of Godasiyo to cross the river for the purpose of visiting, of attending the dances which are held every night, and of exchanging their goods—meat, venison, skins, furs, roots, bark, and dried fruits and berries—in order to supply their several needs. Moreover, the lodge of public assembly was situated on one side of the river—a feature that occasioned considerable traveling across and back. This stream was very large and rapid. The people crossed it by means of a bridge constructed of saplings and of limbs of trees carefully fastened together. The state of good will and contentment, above described, continued for a long time, but at last trouble arose. The cause of this was a white dog which belonged to the chief, Godasiyo. The dissension became so serious that there was great danger that the factions would become involved in a fight over the matter. The great river divided the two parties.

Finally, Chief Godasiyo, after long deliberation, decided that the only way in which a deadly contest could be avoided would be by the removal of her own adherents to some other place of residence. Having decided to take this step, she at once informed her adherents of her resolution to remove westward by ascending the stream on which they were living. She invited all who had taken her part to follow her into exile from their present settlement. And they all agreed to emigrate with her. She told them further that they would ascend the river in canoes of birch bark, which would enable them to transport their small belongings with ease. So the people set to work to construct the water craft. Two canoes of birch bark of suitable size were made, and these were fastened together by means of strong saplings extending from one canoe to the other so as to support a kind of platform extending over the canoes and the space between them. This structure was for the sole use of the chief, Godasiyo. The followers of Godasiyo proceeded to construct birch-bark canoes for themselves also. When Godasiyo took her seat on the craft constructed for her sole use all her adherents and defenders launched their own canoes containing their effects.

When all had embarked, with Chief Godasiyo in the lead, all paddled upstream. The flotilla of canoes was very large, covering the surface of the water as far as the eye could see up and down the river. After they had paddled a long distance, the people finally came in sight of the forks in the river, and then it was that they began to converse together—the two divisions of canoes, one on each side of the float of the chief, Godasiyo—as they paddled upstream. One division chose one of the forks in the river as the course to follow to their new settlement, and the other division elected to turn into the other channel. Each division gave its reasons for the choice which it had made, and the divergent views gave rise at last to heated discussion. This strife continued to the point where, if persisted in, the people would become definitely separated; still no compromise was effected, so the leaders in each division turned the prows of their canoes so as to ascend the fork of the stream which they had selected. Thus they began to separate.

When this movement began the two men paddling the two canoes on which rested the float of Chief Godasiyo disagreed as to the course that they should take under the circumstances. As each chose the fork branching off on his side of the stream, the two canoes became separated, and the platform on which Chief Godasiyo was sitting slipped off its support, falling into the water and carrying the chief with it. The people drew near and, looking into the water to see what had become of their chief, they saw that she had sunk to the bottom, where she had become transformed into a great fish.

Thereupon the people of the two divisions attempted to converse together, but they were unable to understand one another, for their language had become changed. It was in this manner that this body of people became divided and possessed of different languages. Thus it came about that there are so many languages spoken by the various tribes dwelling on this earth.

113. A LEGEND OF AN ANTHROPOMORPHIC TRIBE OF RATTLESNAKES

In the ancient country of the Oneida, which they occupied when the League of the Iroquois was formed, were a number of subterranean caverns, which, it was said, were inhabited by various tribes of men. The following legend is about one of these caverns:

It was said that in the olden time a certain young man of a good family while out hunting in this region saw a large raccoon ahead of him, which seemingly was attempting to escape from him. At once the young hunter started in pursuit of the raccoon, and soon the race became interesting, for the raccoon was gradually gaining on its pursuer. It was not long before the raccoon had gotten out of his sight, so the hunter was able to follow it only by following its tracks in the snow that lay on the ground to the depth of a span. After a very long pursuit the hunter finally tracked the raccoon to a large river, the banks of which were very high and rocky. The tracks led along under one bank for a long distance. The young man was becoming quite exhausted when finally he came to the mouth of a cavern in the river bank, into which the tracks of the raccoon disappeared. The entrance to this cavern was just large enough to admit the body of the hunter, and he decided to go in; but before doing so he set up his bow and arrows and walking stick beside the entrance. He found that the passageway inclined downward at a gentle grade. After entering the passage the young hunter found that the way was long. Having gone so far in that the light from the entrance had entirely faded away, at last he was delighted to see that it was becoming light ahead of him. So he kept on until finally he emerged from the cavern. Thereupon he was surprised to see that the tracks of the raccoon led out of the passageway into the open. The young hunter stood quiet for some minutes, viewing the country around. He was greatly surprised to find further that the climate of this region was quite different from that in which he commonly abode, for he found black raspberries ripe or ripening, although there was much snow on the ground in the country whence he had just come. Then he resolved to follow a well-beaten path, which led farther into the new country. As he went along he blazed the trees bordering the path, or broke twigs and branches off the trees in such manner that these would serve as signs by which he could retrace his steps in the event of losing his way. He noticed that the path leading from the entrance to what he thought was a cavern led inland, turning to the right a short distance from the entrance. He followed this road because he saw in the dust of the path the tracks of the raccoon which he had been following.

As he walked along, keeping a sharp lookout for whatever might happen, he saw in the distance a lodge, which from its appearance seemed to be occupied; he noticed smoke arising from it, hence he inferred that people were dwelling there. He resolved to go ahead to see who lived in that lodge. As he continued on he still saw the tracks of the raccoon which he had been following. On reaching the lodge the young hunter entered, finding within two very aged people, seemingly a man and his wife, who appeared to be superannuated. The old man was the first to greet the hunter, saying, “My grandson, it is indeed well that you visit our lodge and home.” Then the old woman joined her husband in welcoming him with the words, “My grandson, it is indeed good that you visit our home.” The hunter replied to these words of welcome, “I am indeed glad that you two are still living in health in this world.” The heads of these two old people were white and partially bald, for their years were many; but they set food before their guest, which he ate heartily and thankfully, for he had become quite exhausted from his long pursuit of the raccoon. When he finished his meal he conversed with the old man concerning the affairs of that country.

In a short time the old man said, “The chiefs of this settlement have invited me to meet them in council this evening, and I should be much pleased to have you accompany me to our lodge of assembly (“Long-lodge”).” Here the wife of the old man added, “My grandson, you should go with him and so become acquainted with our people and see the country.” The young hunter consented to accompany his aged host, for he learned that he was a noted chief in his land. Thereupon the aged chief said, “My grandson, when we arrive at the lodge of assembly you must not remain outside; you must enter with me; and when they begin to dance you must return here at once, for if you should remain there you would meet with a terrible misfortune. I am giving you warning in due time. Moreover, you must not linger along the way homeward, but you must make all possible speed. Yonder is a hut, which rests on a platform supported by four posts, in which hut you must retire for the night. There is a ladder leading up to the entrance of the hut, which, when you have reached the platform, you must pull up after you and lay on the scaffolding outside the lodge. I warn you further. You must not consent under any consideration or persuasion to let down this ladder to enable a person or persons to go up and be with you, for should you give this consent a most appalling thing will befall you. Do not forget these warnings. Your safety depends on your obeying what I have said to you, for I am telling you these things for your welfare.” The young hunter assured the old man that he would obey his warnings. Looking out he saw the elevated hut to which the old man said he should retire for the night, and he noticed that the supporting posts had been peeled and carefully oiled to prevent anything from climbing them to reach the hut. This fact aroused the young hunter’s curiosity, but feeling that he should not pry into the affairs of his hosts he held his peace.

Having completed their small preparations, the aged chief and his young guest departed for the council. When they reached the lodge of assembly (“Long-lodge”), they found that they were on time. The hunter saw what was usual on such occasions and gatherings—that those whose intentions and purposes were good had already taken their places inside the council lodge, and that those who had evil designs and propensities were going to and fro outside. He noticed, too, that when the frivolous young women saw him and recognized him as a stranger, they at once guyed one another at his expense, jostling and hawing and clearing their throats, in order to make the young stranger look at them and to join them; but he paid no attention to their ruses. On entering the lodge of assembly the aged chief and his guest found that it was already well filled with the orderly people of the settlement, and that the chiefs were all present, quietly awaiting the arrival of the host of the young hunter. When the two had taken their seats the Fire-keeper chief arose and in a formal speech uncovered figuratively the council fire, expressing with much feeling the public thanks for all the good things they enjoyed and for the preservation of their lives. He made these remarks in a loud voice, giving thanks to the Master of Life. After forbidding the commission of bad deeds by everyone there present he carefully stated the purpose of their session. He asked every chief to employ wisdom and mercy and justice in the conduct of the business. After a number of the chiefs had discussed the matter pro and con before them, and had in their parlance “cooked the ashes,” and the business of the council had been transacted, the Fire-keeper again arose to close the session formally, by saying, among other things, “We now cover the fire with ashes. And after the dancing, which will begin now, we will disperse to our homes.”

The young hunter, hearing these last words and remembering the strict injunctions of his host, hastened out of the lodge and at once started for home at a rapid pace. But his movements had been watched by four young women, abandoned characters of the settlement, who at once pursued him swiftly, laughing, hawing, and calling to him to stop and await their pleasure. This conduct, however, only caused the young hunter to travel ahead as fast as it was possible for him to go. Soon he was chagrined to find that he was not leaving the young women, for their voices did not die away, so finally he started to run at top speed. After a time, becoming exhausted by the exertion, the hunter slackened his pace to a brisk walk, whereupon he soon heard the sounds of the laughing and guying voices of the pursuing women, who seemed to be rapidly gaining on him. Again he started on a brisk run in a seemingly vain effort to outdistance his fleet-footed pursuers, for just as soon as he would relax his efforts in the least, the sound of their voices could be heard not far behind him. The serious injunctions of his aged host urged him onward as rapidly as it was possible for him to go. Thus closely pursued, he finally reached the hut and lost no time in ascending to it by means of the tree ladder, which he drew up after him, as he had been directed to do by the old man. Having entered the hut and secured its bark flap door as well as he could from the inside, he anxiously awaited events. Soon the four wretched women arrived and clamorously asked him to let down the ladder to enable them to climb up to his room, but the young man gave no heed to their importunities. Through small crevices in the walls of the hut he watched them while they attempted to climb the posts, but as these were greased the women were unable to do so. Throughout the night they remained at the foot of the posts clamoring for the ladder. At daybreak the women ceased their attempts and noise, and the young man fell asleep from exhaustion. When he awoke he arose, and unfastening the door flap of bark, he went out on the platform around the hut. On looking down, he saw at the foot of each of the posts a huge female rattlesnake, coiled and asleep; these he divined were the four wretched women who had pursued him the previous night. His movements over their heads awakened them, and at once they crawled away into the neighboring thickets without indicating in any manner that it was they who had just tormented him.

Having gathered up his few belongings and let down the ladder, he descended to the ground and hastened to the lodge of his aged hosts, which stood not far away. On entering, he was astonished to find the aged host, in the form of a huge rattlesnake, coiled up on the couch, but he was reassured by seeing the old woman, who was up, and who had taken the precaution of assuming human form again. Though at first somewhat nonplused by what he had just seen, the young hunter asked the old woman, “Where is my grandfather? I suppose he has gone out into the forest?” Without showing any perturbation, the old woman replied, “Yes; he has gone out, but he will soon return. Back of the ledge you will find water with which you may wash your face and hands. The morning meal is now ready, and we will eat it just as soon as you return.” Having washed, as suggested, in a bark trough in the rear of the lodge, he returned to join the old woman and her husband at the morning meal.

While eating the young hunter took occasion to examine the furnishings of the lodge more thoroughly than he had had an opportunity of doing sooner. In the room he saw numerous bark vessels of many sizes with various kinds of nuts, dried fruits, and berries; wooden vessels containing honey; and small bundles of the dried twigs of the spicebush shrub for use in making a beverage to be drunk hot with meals. The youth was further surprised to see in a corner of the room, curled up on a mat, the raccoon which he had pursued so persistently the previous day. He was now fully convinced that he was the guest of a family of rattlesnakes, for when he returned from washing himself at the back of the lodge he found that the old man had again assumed human form, appearing to him as he had the day before, and greeting him with, “Well, my grandson, did you rest well last night?” The young man replied, “Yes; I rested quite well.” When the old woman had placed the food on the bench, she addressed the young man, saying, “My grandson, now you must eat your fill, for there is plenty here. So do not be afraid of eating all you wish.”

Having finished his meal, the young hunter thanked his rattlesnake hosts, and after bidding them farewell he started for his own home. He returned to the mouth of the cavern, for such was this place, and crawling back through the passage he reached the surface of the earth in his own country, where he found his bow and arrows and his walking stick just as he had left them. He quickly made his way home to his family, to whom he related his experiences in the cavern. He was so astonished at what had befallen him while in pursuit of a raccoon that he had the chiefs call a council of their chiefs and people to hear the strange recital. He told them that he had indeed visited the rattlesnake people, and that they assumed at will human form and attributes and lived under human institutions. He was thanked by the council and people for his recital. But the young hunter never afterward took advantage of the invitation of the old rattlesnake chief to revisit him and his wife.

114. THE TWINS: GRANDSONS OF GAHOⁿʻDJI’DĀʹʻHOⁿK [421]

In ancient times a certain family, consisting of seven brothers and one sister, lived together contentedly in a large bark lodge. It was the duty of this sister while her brothers were out hunting to cut in the neighboring forest the firewood used by the family and to bring it to the lodge.

It is said that the sister was uncommonly comely, although her size and stature were above the average for women, and that she possessed unusual strength. In the performance of her duties she was accustomed to be absent from the lodge during the entire day, returning with her burden of firewood in the evening. Now, the youngest of the seven brothers was a recluse—that is to say, he was deanoäʹdoⁿʼ.[422] As the duties of the sister did not require her to go far from the lodge, she was usually the first to return to it in the evening, while the brothers, who had to go many miles away to find game and fish, did not return at times until very late at night.

There came a day, while the six normal brothers and their sister were absent, and while there was no one in the lodge except the recluse, when a young woman, daughter of the noted witch, Gahoⁿʻdjiʼdāʹʻhoⁿk, came to the lodge bearing a huge basket of marriage bread. There were, of course, eight beds to accommodate the seven brothers and their sister, which were properly arranged along the sides of this long lodge. The bed occupied by the youngest brother, the recluse, was nearest to the doorway on its side of the lodge. The witch’s daughter had been instructed by her mother to take her seat on this bed. But upon entering the lodge the young woman, after looking around, set her basket down in front of the third bed and took her seat thereon. This bed was the third one from the doorway, counting from the entrance on the left side of the lodge. Feeling, however, that she had not followed her instructions, the young woman did not sit there long, but took her seat on the next bed, because she imagined that it had a better appearance than the one on which she had been sitting. But she kept on shifting her position from bed to bed until she finally came to the seventh bed. Here the second of the seven brothers and his sister found her on their return to the lodge.

Seeing her seated on the bed and noticing the basket of marriage-proposal bread, they inferred that she had come to marry their brother on whose bed she sat, so they said to her kindly, “We are very thankful that you have come to our lodge, oh, our sister-in-law.” She made them no reply but by her actions showed her appreciation of this welcome reception on their part. In the order of their ages the other brothers returned to the lodge, and with the exception of the eldest one all saluted her with words of welcome in the same manner as the first two had expressed their delight at having her for their sister-in-law.

The eldest brother was the last to return to the lodge, and by the young woman’s own choice seemingly by sitting on his bed with a basket of marriage-proposal bread before her, he was her chosen husband, so he addressed her as his accepted wife. Noticing at once that he was blind in one eye, she was chagrined for not having obeyed her mother’s instructions with regard to the bed on which she should await her future husband. She thought it best, however, to seem to ignore her disturbing discovery and her unhappy feelings in consequence, so she began to study her surroundings in the lodge. She saw that some one whom she had not noticed before was lying on the bed next to the doorway on the left-hand side of the entrance, the one on which she had been told to sit on entering this lodge. She made the discovery also that the person lying on this bed was the recluse of the family, that in fact he was deanoäʹdoⁿʼ, and as such was “secluded” from all persons. She noticed, too, that no one paid the slightest attention to the recumbent figure, which was heavily covered with robes of skin from head to foot. Hence her curiosity was thoroughly aroused, especially as it was on this bed that her mother had directed her to sit.

The next day, when all the other persons of the lodge except the recluse and the bride wife had gone out into the forest on their various errands, she arose from her couch, and crossing over to the other side of the fire, went to the bed on which lay the covered figure and cautiously drew down the covering from the head of the person who was fast asleep. There she saw with longing eyes and half-suppressed passion a handsome youth of finely developed figure. She stood there partly bent over the sleeping youth, sorely infatuated. By gently shaking the young man she finally succeeded in awakening him, whereupon she said to him, “Arise, my friend, and come to my couch and let us talk together.” But the youth neither arose nor would he speak to her, notwithstanding all her fervent entreaties to embrace her. Naturally this conduct only intensified the young wife’s desire, so she continued during the entire day to tease and coax the youth to go over to her own couch. But he made no response to her persistent efforts. When she thought it was about time for the other persons living in the lodge to return, she went back to her couch, where she had remained of her own choice the previous night. She did not love her husband since she found out his misfortune and her great mistake in choosing his couch (contrary to her instruction) for a resting place when she first came to the lodge.

When all the family had returned to the lodge for the night and had prepared, cooked, and eaten their supper of corn bread, boiled venison, and spicebush tea, they retired to their several couches, whereupon the bride began to tell her husband a story invented for the occasion. She declared that when he and his brothers and sister had left the lodge the day before and she was alone with his deanoäʹdoⁿʼ, or recluse brother, the latter had come over to the side of her bed and had made improper proposals to her, and that she had great difficulty in resisting his attempted assaults. Her husband, however, made no reply to this carefully concocted story.