Chapter XX: Introduction (10)

At length all reached the top and gathered about the edge of the cliff. Then the boy saw that the company looked very friendly, and he discovered two brothers among them. “I must go to the house of the young woman,” he said to his brothers. “I leave this company in your care. I must overcome the evil magic of the great witches. When I have done this I shall return. Wait for me.”

Hauñwandeh determined to have his revenge. He sought the house of the witches and went straight toward it. Reaching the door, he entered saying, “I have come.”

Sitting in the lodge was the young woman who had bewitched him, and at the lodge fire was the mother, the great witch, and in the rear of the lodge were six daughters.

The mother looked up, saying, “Oh son-in-law, I dreamed you would come. My daughter is waiting for you.”

That night the old witch became disturbed in her sleep and arose and flung herself in the fire, crying out a strange noise. Hauñwandeh grabbed the corn pounder and hit her on the head, saying, “Awake and tell me.” So she awoke and said, “Oh son-in-law, I have dreamed that calamity will befall us unless you repair to the long lake and kill two white otters, and do it quickly, before the skin curtain of the lodge door stops swinging, from your out-going.”

“That will be very easy,” answered the youth. “Be at ease and I will soon return.” So speaking he tied his long hairs together and made a string that reached from the door to the lake. This he tied to the skin curtain and kept it swinging as he ran to the lake.

“Otters come forth,” he commanded, and one great white otter leaped from the lake, but the youth killed it with a round white stone that he carried in his pouch. As he did this a wave arose and sped toward him bearing on its crest the other great white otter. As it leaped toward him he killed it as he had the first. Running back to the lodge he flung the bodies in, with a laugh, exclaiming, “Here are your otters.”

“Where?” screamed the witch woman, leaping from her bed. “Here,” he replied. “I shall now build the fire and skin them.” He did this, saving the skins and throwing the carcasses into the fire. At this the witch woman screamed, “Oh, you have killed my brothers!” And the boy replied, “Did you not require this of me?” It was true, the otters were the witch woman’s wizard brothers, and they were mighty in magic. The water in which they lived was magic water and when it touched the skin of a man the flesh was eaten off, as if scalded. But Hauñwandeh was harmed not at all. He was becoming a great wizard himself.

The following night the witch woman dreamed again and when awakened by her son-in-law, required that he immediately depart and kill a great eagle that dwelt in the top of a certain tall tree, and do so before the door curtain stopped swinging from his departure. Hauñwandeh obeyed and finding the tree, shot a strong arrow at the big bird, but though he used great force in drawing the bow, the arrow paused in mid air and returned. The eagle’s magic was too great. Again he shot an arrow, commanding it to kill the eagle, and the arrow obeyed, piercing the heart of the bird. It fell to his feet, and grabbing it in haste he ran to the lodge. With a laugh he flung it in the door saying, “Here is your third brother!” “Where?” shrieked the old witch, leaping from her bed. “Right here by the fire,” answered Hauñwandeh. “I shall now skin it and burn its body.” When he had done this, the old witch was in a great rage. With all six daughters she was screaming and waving her blanket.

Hauñwandeh then beckoned to the young woman who had bewitched him. She looked frightened. “Come along,” he commanded, “this is a bad place. We are going away.”

Taking the young woman outside, he ordered her to look at the lodge, at the same time saying, “House become flint. House become heated red hot.” The house obeyed and all the witches inside perished.

Then he took the young woman to the precipice and greeting the men he had rescued said, “This young woman is said to be my wife.” So saying he tied her with bark cords and flung her over the cliff.

The entire company of restored men then followed Hauñwandeh, and he led them back to his uncle’s lodge, calling from without, said, “Hail uncle, I have returned.”

Again and again he called, and after a time he heard a voice answering, “Be away, be away from here! I shall not be deceived again by you animals!”

“I am your nephew,” called the boy. “I have returned.”

“Well, if you are my nephew thrust your hands through the hole in the curtain and grasp the door-post,” said the uncle.

The boy did as suggested and his uncle tied his arms very tightly, so that he was made prisoner. Then the uncle looked out and saw his nephew.

“Oh wait until I become cleaned,” cried the uncle, brushing off the ashes and washing his blackened face.

So he cleansed himself and untied his nephew’s arms. Then he invited all the restored relatives into the lodge for a great feast; so then Hauñwandeh told the story of his adventures; that is how we know about it.

32. YOUNGER BROTHER ELUDES HIS SISTER-IN-LAW BY CREATING OBSTACLES AND
LIBERATES OLDER BROTHER.

Far from any settlement of Oñgwe Hoñwe‘, there was a lonely lodge wherein dwelt two brothers, one older than the other. Older Brother was the hunter and provided meat for the lodge, and Younger Brother cooked the food. All things went well until upon a certain day Older came home with no game. Younger carefully observed his clothing and found fresh blood stains upon it, thereby knowing that he had killed game.

Day by day the brother now returned without game of any kind, although his body and clothing proved by blood stains that he had been successful. Food in the lodge became scarce and Younger began to get very hungry, but Older seemed to be well fed. Younger watched him and noticed that he seemed to be thinking of something other than the matters about which he spoke. Inquiry revealed nothing of value, for Older would always say, “Oh my Younger Brother, you should not bother me.”

The Older Brother went on another hunting trip, taking many accoutrements, as if for a long trip. Younger determined to follow him and spy upon his actions. Carefully tracking Older, Younger went down the trail until he came to a spring, where he noticed a small path concealed by leaves and branches. He determined to follow this. In a short time he saw a new lodge. It appeared to be very new for the bark had not yet fully dried, being still of the smell of the tree. Concealing himself in a clump of bushes he watched. Soon he heard two voices, one of them a woman’s. The woman was ordering a man to do certain things and he was pleading to be set free. Soon a man came out of the lodge and went west. Younger then saw that it was his brother.

When Older had been gone for a time Younger stood up and walked toward the lodge, making a noise with his feet to attract attention. The woman heard the sound and came out of the house. She was young and very handsome and had a peculiar way of lifting her head and when she looked she seemed to draw her eyes together making an upright wrinkle between. Her eyes seemed yellow with bright spots in them.

Soon she observed Younger standing still on the path and smiled, calling him to her. He advanced to the lodge and she stepped inside, saying “Dadjoh,” inviting him in. Younger entered and the young woman embraced him and placed her hand on his body, in greeting. Younger noticed that she had a hook on her hand attached to a long fish line and that she was endeavoring to fasten the hook into him. He fled from the lodge and ran down the trail, saying, “I will make ready and return.” Younger now returned to his own lodge and awaited the coming of Older Brother.

After a long time Older returned and sat down by the fire. Younger looked at him a while, and noticed as usual, blood stains on his shirt. He observed something else.

At last Younger spoke. “My Older Brother,” he said, “It is my opinion that you have a fishhook in your neck. You are held by a long line that goes out of the lodge. I shall now proceed to remove the hook.”

Taking Older out of the lodge he removed the hook and fastened it to a thorn bush that stood on the edge of a cliff. “Oh now, my Older Brother, I must tell you that soon a woman, who is your wife, will pull on the line and when you do not return she will be after you. Such is my opinion. I also think that the woman is a sorceress and that she will endeavor to kill both of us. Now I have acquired strong magic and will save you. You must stand here and allow me to pat you into a small object which I will place in the hollow of an antler-tipped arrow-point. I will shoot this arrow into the sky. It will go a long ways and then fall to the ground. When you strike the ground become normal in size and run as fast as you can until you find a new lodge far to the east. There dwell until I come for you.”

Now all happened as related by Younger and when the arrow was shot it made a path in the sky, and striking the earth, Older came out of the conical tip and ran east.

After the arrow’s flight the sorceress pulled on the fish line, seeking to draw Older back to her, but the string held fast. So she followed the line until she came to the thorn bush. Then she saw what had happened and was very angry. Her first thought was to hunt for Younger, to whom she attributed the blame.

Younger ran as fast as he could, aided by his magic, but the sorceress was swifter than he and soon saw him before her. With a shrill cry she bore down upon him making a barking sound and yelling, “You cannot escape me, you cannot escape me.”

Younger then disappeared around a big rock and took off his moccasins. “Run to the end of the world,” he commanded, and then transformed himself into the likeness of an old stump.

On came the sorceress, following the moccasin tracks. She paused at the stump and then said, “Most truly this stump looks like a man, but I see his tracks going in a direction away from here.” Thereupon she began her chase again yelling as was her custom, “You cannot escape me.” After a long time she came to the end of the world and found a pair of moccasins. Her rage was terrible and she tore up the ground, saying, “He thinks, perhaps, that he has deceived me, but I will find him. He cannot escape me.” She retraced her steps and came to the place where the stump had been but it had vanished, for Younger had been running away all this time. The sorceress followed his trail until she came into sight of him again, when she yelled, “You cannot escape me.” When she was almost upon him he took a small round stone from his pocket and cast it upon the ground, at the same time running with all the speed his magic would give.

The stone became an immense escarpment, so high that the sorceress could not climb over it. She uttered exclamations in token of her disgust and began to run at the foot of the cliff but it went on without ceasing until she came to the end of the world, when she ran back to the place where she had started and then on to the other end of the world. Returning she began to push the cliff and then to beat it with her hands. Finally she ran into it trying to batter it down with her head but she crashed into the rock with such force that she fell down as if hit by a war club, and fainted. For a long time she lay still like a dead person, but finally revived. Looking about she spied a small white stone. “Tcisna!” she exclaimed, “Have I been overcome by so small a stone? I now perceive that the boy is a magician.”

Again she began to run and soon again saw Younger running before her. “You cannot escape me,” she called as she ran toward him, whereupon Younger took a handful of pigeon feathers from his pouch and cast them into the air, saying, “Do you become a great pigeon roost as if of long duration.”

With this command the feathers became pigeons and they flew through the trees until all were filled. Beneath them the ground became deep with slime and into this the sorceress ran. She drew back for it was like a pitch bed to a beetle. In vain she tried to plow through, and then turned and ran along the edge until she reached the end of the world, and failing to break through she ran the other way, but found the slime made a track to the other end of the world. Returning to the middle spot she began to beat it with her head, but became smothered and fell down in a faint, as if dead.

After a long time she revived and found a pigeon feather on her nose. “Tcisna!” she exclaimed. “This boy is a magician. But he cannot escape me.” So crying, she started the pursuit again and after a long time saw him ahead of her running very fast. When she was nearly upon him Younger stamped his foot into the ground and cried, “Become a deep hole.” Then he ran on. The sorceress came to the hole but it was so wide and so deep that she could not cross it. She endeavored to run around it but could not find an end in either direction and finally returned to the starting point and endeavored to jump across, but she fell in with a loud noise and went to the bottom, knocking her head on a stone. Long she lay stunned and when she revived she looked about and saw only a moccasin track in the mud, laid across the path. “He is a magician, he thinks, but he cannot escape me,” cried the sorceress, and began the chase once more.

Now after a time Younger came to a broad river where he saw a great number of people swimming about and racing in the water. He heard the sounds of the sorceress as she pursued him and exerting his magic said, “May the swimmer who is the greatest distance out in the river take on my appearance, whilst I become a tree stub.” The angry sorceress reached the river and paused at the stub, and soon discovered the appearance of Younger far out in the river. In plunged the angry woman and soon came to the bather whom she saw was not her victim. With a cry she swam back to the shore to find the deceiving tree stub, but it had vanished leaving moccasin tracks in the direction it had taken.

Younger ran very fast this time for he was almost at the end of his tricks. When he was about discouraged, a strange old man with a broad back and a wide mouth appeared before him. “My nephew,” said the old man. “My name is Toad. I will aid you in your escape. I understand that there is a woman who is pursuing you, and this is great trouble. Get on my back and bounce up and down. I will give a spring and throw you far up on a smooth hill. Climb as far as you can to the top.”

Younger clambered on Toad’s back which was very springy, and Toad arose with a leap throwing Younger far through the air and landing him on the surface of a slippery hill. He endeavored to climb the hill but reaching a very shiny spot fell into a groove and began to slip. Down, down he slipped with great rapidity until he slid with a cloud of dust into a big lodge where an old woman and her two daughters were boiling bear oil over the fireplace.

“Augh!” cried the old woman, “I guess somebody has fallen in our trap. Let us see what it is.”

When the women saw Younger, the old woman asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh my aunt,” exclaimed the distressed Younger. “I have been running away from a very evil witch. She is now pursuing me. I met an old man who threw me upon a slippery hillside and I slipped down where I am now sitting.”

“Well, she is coming now,” said the old woman. “You climb up on the platform over my bed and hide. I think I can overcome this witch.”

Younger obeyed with alacrity, and soon heard the sorceress slide into the lodge, crying, “He cannot escape me!”

“What are you doing here?” asked the old woman.

“I am pursuing a very bad magician,” answered the sorceress. “He has caused me much trouble. Have you seen him in this lodge?”

“Oh yes, my niece,” answered the old woman. “I have him now. He is a great magician and went into this pot of bear oil.”

Now the old woman possessed magic, and conjured the face of Younger into the bottom of the pot of oil.

The sorceress looked in, and, crying, “You cannot escape me now,” leaped into the pot, going to the bottom. Now the oil was boiling and it killed her so that she could never return to life again. It was the end of her.

Then the old woman called Younger and said, “I have been waiting for you a long time. I notice that you are of our kind of people. You shall become my son-in-law, by taking my youngest daughter.”

Younger looked at the girl and saw that she was most desirable. He had never seen a girl who was so much to his taste. So soon they were married.

Younger lived in the lodge with the women and he hunted for them, bringing in a great number of deer every day, which the women dried and smoked. After a year Younger’s wife bore him two sons. They were precocious boys who learned to talk very early, also to play about.

It was not long before they were full grown and asked where their relatives lived. Younger, their father, answered that all had been killed by sorcery but their uncle, his own brother, whom he has rescued by sending him away in an arrow.

“It is well,” said the boys. “We will go after him.” So they set forth after their uncle. Long they traveled until in a strange country they found an old lodge and in it a lonely old man with a sore spot in his neck, which he was continually nursing.

“Our uncle,” they called to him. “We two are your nephews and have come for you. Come with us. We have an aunt older than our mother. You can marry her.”

So Older returned with his nephews and when he came to the lodge he found his brother Younger. Then he saw the woman who would become his wife. He liked her and they were soon married. All lived together and they had no more trouble with wizards or witches. Younger had too much power now, and everything otgont (evil) was afraid of him.

33. THE ISLAND OF THE CANNIBAL.

Ganondai´yeo lived with his aged grandparents in the depths of a great wood. The old people were always sad but Ganondai´yeo was never able to discover the cause and inquiry would only bring the injunction, “Never go west!” The boy obeyed and played happily in the forest to the north and the south and the east but shunned the dark woods to the west.

At length Ganondai´yeo began to reason upon the matter:

“Never go west,” he said to himself. “Now why may not I go west? Is not west as good as east? Surely I am denied my rights and shall no longer submit. I am going to find out why the west is to be avoided.”

Thus determined, he crept cautiously through the vine-bound underbrush and with caution advanced in a westerly direction. He kept on for some time and then, to his surprise, found himself on the borders of a large body of swift water. He looked across the broad expanse with admiration and wonder. Was this the sight his grandparents wished to deny him? “Oh the shameful rule that forbade him this!” he thought. While he was gazing at the scene and meditating upon it, he heard a sound behind him. A pleasant voice was saying:

“Hai‘, Hai‘! Is it not a beautiful stream and wonderful too? Did you never see it before? Come, jump into my canoe and let us visit some of the inlets and islands that are found hereabouts. We will return in a short time and you will have seen sights worth talking about.”

Ganondai´yeo was charmed with the words of the stranger, and following him, stepped into the canoe that lay on the sandy beach of a cove. The stranger gave the canoe a shove with his paddle and sent it shooting out from the shore. With swift even strokes he carried it far out from the land.

“We shall visit a beautiful island,” said the stranger.

A short distance ahead Ganondai´yeo saw a small island in the center of which was a dense clump of trees. It lay near a very large island. Such a charming spot was it that he wondered if its inhabitants were men or ghosts.

Soon the canoe grated upon the sandy beach and, both jumping out, the stranger drew up the canoe.

“Now,” said he, “look around and see what a fine place this is. Oh you will like it,—you will like it; I do!”

Ganondai´yeo walked up the shore toward a tall plant that bore flowers, (a mullen stalk). He stood viewing it for a few moments and then turning to follow his guide found that he had disappeared. He ran to the water to find the canoe but to his dismay found that it, too, had gone. Glancing up and over the lake he saw far in the distance the canoe and the stranger, and then he realized his situation.

Heavy hearted he dragged himself halfway around the island and then walking inland for a few rods sat down dejectedly on a fallen tree. Tears filled his eyes and he moaned bitterly, “I am a miserable creature.”

While he thus sat lamenting his fate he heard a loud whisper, “Kechuta, kechuta!”

Starting up he looked around to discover the source of the sound but failing, sank back to his seat with a groan of pure misery.

Presently he heard the same sound, “Kechuta!”

It seemed to issue from the ground at his very feet. This time he was thoroughly frightened, and again he looked about to discover, perchance, who the speaker was, but as before he failed and flinging himself upon the log began to weep violently.

“Kechuta!” came the sound again and looking down at the ground at the end of the log he noticed a white glistening spot. Poking away the sod he saw first the hollow eye socket of a skull and then jaws full of white teeth.

“Kechuta!” said the skull and then Ganondai´yeo knew that the thing wished to smoke. “Dig into the sod by that knot on the log and you will find my bag and pipe,” so spoke the man-reduced-to-bones.

Marveling, the boy obeyed and soon pulled out a decayed pipe bag and a tobacco pouch. He packed the pipe bowl full of tobacco. Then picking up a hard round stick, the size of an arrow shaft he twisted it in his bow string, placed a pitted stone on one end and put the other end on the log. Pushing his bow backward and forward he twirled the stick with great rapidity. Soon a tiny spark ignited the wood dust and caught in a blaze on the shredded cedar bark. It was a laborious task but Ganondai´yeo at length had the pipe in smoking order. Leaning over he pried apart the jaws of Tcis´gä, as he had named the skeleton, and pushed the pipe stem between its teeth. Tcis´gä smoked with great diligence and exclaimed, “Agwas´wio‘, oh how good, how I enjoy it. I’ve not had a smoke in a great while. Oh I am glad you came to me! Now let me tell you a story, but first fill up this pipe again. There. Now, boy, this is an enchanted island. You are trapped, the same as I was and the same as many more have been. There is a man who lives here, there is a man who visits here and there is a man who hires men here. He who lives here is S‘agowenot´‘a, a great sorcerer, he who visits here is Oñgwe Iās, an evil ogre. Both eat men. They ate me, they ate many others; they will eat you unless you listen closely. Before sunrise tomorrow, run to the beach where you landed and bury yourself in the sand only leaving one eye and an ear uncovered. Look and listen. No one has ever escaped; but you may if you obey me, and moreover you overcome the island’s evil spell.”

The boy solemnly promised obedience and after a restless night ran to the beach and buried himself in the sand. Soon he heard the sound of singing on the water. The song grew louder and Ganondai´yeo knew that the singer was nearing the beach. He heard the sound of the canoe as it shot up against the sand and knew that the singer had landed. He listened closely to the song and then hummed it softly to himself. The sound of footsteps neared and turning his eye he saw a man whose grim visage pronounced him a man of terrible passion. Ganondai´yeo looked as well as he could from his hole in the sand and knew that was Oñgwe Iās. At the feet of the ogre was a pack of dogs who followed him up the incline.

As Oñgwe Iās stepped upon the island Sagowanota sang his magical song from his den in the grove.

When Oñgwe Iās reached the top of the incline he roared, “Well, where is my meal?”

“He cannot be found,” came the answer. “Put your eyes in the bushes,—send the dogs after him,” roared Oñgwe Iās.

The search was fruitless and grumbling in rage the man returned to his canoe, threw in his dogs and jumping in, swept his paddle through the water and sped back to mainland.

Ganondai´yeo jumped from his place of concealment and rushed to the log where Tcis´gä lay. Breathlessly he told what he had seen and heard and told how thankful he was that he had escaped being eaten.

“Smoke, tobacco, I wish to smoke,” whispered Tcĭs´gä, dustily. So taking an ember from the fire he had started Ganondai´yeo lit the pipe and shoved it between the teeth of the skull. When it had finished smoking it said, “I am glad that you have succeeded so well. It is an omen of good fortune. Now listen. Make seven dolls from dry rotten wood and make a small bow and arrow for each, then, place each doll in the top of a tree. Conceal yourself in the sand again and see what will happen.

Ganondai´yeo did as directed and the next day when Oñgwe Iās landed he grumbled loudly and vowed he would find the boy for he was very hungry. He strode up the beach and his dogs with noses close to the ground followed the track of Ganondai´yeo as it circled the isle. Suddenly one dog with a yelp fell pierced with an arrow. Oñgwe Iās yelled in rage and his rage increased as one after another fell dead. Snatching up the body of each he threw it upon his shoulder and going back flung it into his canoe, and then paddled back across the lake.

FIGURE OF DANCING WARRIOR

This figure carved from wood was used in shamanistic ceremonies.
]

Leaping from the sand Ganondai´yeo ran back to Tcis´gä and related his observations.

After Tcis´gä had been satisfied with tobacco he said to Ganondai´yeo:

“Now I will tell you more. Oñgwe Iās, always fearing death, leaves his heart in his lodge. It hangs suspended over a pot of water; likewise the hearts of the dogs. When he returns he will place the dogs’ hearts back within their chests and as they beat the dogs will revive. He will then remove them and return to the island on the morrow to renew his search for you. Now listen closely. Bury yourself in the sand as before and as Oñgwe Iās approaches the shore sing the Sagowenota song. Oñgwe Iās will then rush up the shore, the dolls will shoot again and while Oñgwe Iās is obscured in the bushes jump into his canoe, go directly across the water and when you touch the shore you will find a path that leads to a lodge. Enter the lodge and destroy the hearts you find there. Then you may return to me.”

The next morning Ganondai´yeo covered himself with sand and when he heard the song of Oñgwe Iās floating over the water he shouted back:

“I have caught a rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,
Soon I’ll skin it, skin it, skin it!”

Oñgwe Iās stopped short in his song and listened. Then he shouted back:

“Ho-yo-ho! So you have him. So, I’ll be there!”

From a mound in the center of the island came a voice. In pleading tones it cried:

“No, no! I did not call you. Do not come. Oh do not!”

“Oh no,” came the mocking reply. “You cannot cheat me. You have found him and wish to eat him alone.”

Landing, Oñgwe Iās ran toward the mound. Ganondai´yeo jumped into the boat and with his swiftest, strongest stroke sent it gliding out over the lake. At length he reached the land. Leaping to the shore he ran up a path and burst through the curtain into a lodge. A young girl was refining bear oil by boiling it in a kettle. Without stopping to greet her Ganondai´yeo cried:

“Give me his heart!”

“No, no, do not touch it. It is his, it is his!” remonstrated the girl in terror.

There was the sound of foot steps outside. Oñgwe Iās had followed in some mysterious manner and was now at the door. Springing toward the back of the lodge, Ganondai´yeo grasped a large beating heart. Oñgwe Iās was pushing aside the curtain and now snarled in terrible rage as he saw the boy who should have been his victim holding his heart. With marvelous swiftness Ganondai´yeo flung the heart into the pot of boiling fat. The ogre tottered. His dogs began to yelp up the trail and as Ganondai´yeo glanced through the door between the curtain and the swaying body of Oñgwe Iās, and saw their dripping bodies, red eyes and froth laden fangs as they leaped toward their master, Oñgwe Iās trembled, and fell. Ganondai´yeo swept the seven dogs’ hearts into the scalding liquid only a moment before the ogre crashed his head into the fire, breaking the pot of oil and spilling out the hearts. Oñgwe Iās was dead and seven dogs lay before the door.

The girl who during this terrible scene had cringed in one corner now rushed toward Ganondai´yeo with a glad cry.

“Oh my brother!” she cried. “You have rescued me. I am your sister who was captured. Oñgwe Iās kept me as his slave. Oh my brother, you have saved our family!”

Ganondai´yeo hardly knew what to make of these words but looking down at the girl saw in her his lost sister, lost years ago. He rejoiced with her and then running back to the shore paddled swiftly to the Isle of Fears. Going up to the log he appeased his friend Tcĭs´gä with tobacco and told his story.

“Now,” said Tcĭs´gä, “you have done well. You can be of great service to me if you will obey a few more instructions; for instance, shoot that fat bear over there and place her pelt over this little mound where I am. Scold that stump and make it move away so that you may cover the mound entirely. Then smoke!”

Ganondai´yeo was startled as he looked up and beheld an enormously fat bear asleep not ten steps from him. Fixing an arrow he shot and killed the beast and removed its hide. Walking up to the stump he shouted:

“What is the matter with you? Get out of my way or I will smash you. Go on now and with the help of a kick the stump jumped backward into a clump of bushes. Placing the skin over the mound Ganondai´yeo built a little fire and began to throw on tobacco to make the smoke fragrant.

The sun was hot and the oil fairly dripped from the skin into the ground.

Ganondai´yeo became impatient. “What is the trouble with you, Tcĭs´gä?” he called. “Move lively. You are lazy. Hurry or I will leave. I cannot wait all day. Hurry or I will kick over this stump upon you.”

There was a slight movement beneath the bear’s skin.

“Hurry now,” continued the boy, “or I will pull off the skin,” and stooping down he gave it a fling. As he did so from the ground arose a company of men. All were quarreling. “You have my legs—my fingers—you have my hands—you have my feet—my ribs—my neck—where is my backbone—three ribs missing—oh someone has my whole body—didn’t have time—made us hurry—too quick—short notice!” came the mingled cries from the strange swarm.

Before Ganondai´yeo was as queer a company of men as the sun has ever seen. Some had one long leg and one short one, some were hump-backed, some small-bodied and large-limbed, some had head on backward, some had no necks, some double the wonted length, and soon each man was a sight to behold. All were angry, and fighting, disappeared into the forest, all but one. It was Tcĭs´gä. He stepped forward and took Ganondai´yeo by the hand and said,

“I am your brother, let us go home.”

Hastening to the shore the two seated themselves in the canoe and paddled back to the lodge on the opposite shore. A meal awaited them and after eating it the boys built a great fire and burned the evil lodge.

That night the three slept in the open. The next morning the brothers and their sister tramped through the forest and found the old people mourning over the loss of Ganondai´yeo.

The old folk were exuberant with joy when they found that not only was Ganondai´yeo well and alive but also their other grandchildren.

The boys built a large lodge and made the days of the old people easy with soft beds, much meat and pleasant company.

Then the grandparents said, “We are old and wise but we know now that which we did not before: It is evil to forbid a boy of resource to do or go without a reason.”

So here it ends, this ga-gah, this ancient story.

34. THE TWELVE BROTHERS AND THE WRAITH OF THE EVIL WARRIOR.

A STORY OF SHODJE´ASKO^n‘, A MISCHIEF MAKER.

Twelve brothers had planned a war expedition and singing their songs had started a war dance. Scarcely had they begun when a messenger came running towards them and related that Hadi´ĭŭsgōwa´, the greatest warrior of the nation, was dying and wished the twelve brothers to officiate at his funeral. In respect to the man who far and wide had the name of being the most terrible and successful warrior in all the world the twelve brothers postponed their dance and hurried to minister to the dying warrior. He desired them to dress him, not in the customary funeral robes but in the full regalia of battle with his knife at his side and his tomahawk in his hand. His face he wished painted black on one side and red on the other, in token that he was the fiercest warrior in all the earth.

So when he died the twelve brothers prepared his body just as was directed and doubled him up in his shallow grave. When the funeral rites were over the brothers renewed their dance and on the next morning started off on their war expedition to the south.

Now in those days the Iroquois had trails that led from their villages to all parts of the world. At the distance of a day’s journey on every trail was built a trail lodge, where travelers might find shelter, and so on for many days’ journeys were built trail lodges. At the end of the first day’s journey the twelve brothers came to the trail house and halted to prepare their evening meal. One of the men shot a deer and was dressing it when the oldest brother, the chief of the party, ordered the youngest to run to the spring after water. Grasping a bark bowl he obeyed and ran down the path to the spring and was bending over the water to dip, when he saw reflected in the ruddy sun-painted water the form of a warrior whose face was painted on one side red and on the other black. He gazed at the vision terrified by its import and then dropping his bowl rushed up the path and stammered out his frightful discovery. He had seen Hadiiusgowa, the warrior whom they had buried but the morning of that day. The chief looked at his young brother in amazement and then, dropping the deer ham that he was preparing, burst out into a loud derisive laugh. “If you are afraid of visions of dead men,” he laughed, “how can I depend on you when live ones appear?” But the boy would not be laughed out of believing the evidence of his own eyes and so the second brother was sent to the spring. When he reached the pool he looked across the river and to his indescribable horror saw the dead warrior standing on the opposite bank, his face wrinkled into a fiendish grin. Back to the lodge he sped trembling from cheek to feet. A chorus of laughter greeted his story and the chief angrily declared that his younger brothers were endeavoring to frighten the party by their impossible tales. Then the third brother was sent and soon returned and with stiffened lips said that he had seen the figure of Hadiiusgowa standing in the middle of the stream. The fourth brother saw him standing on the rocks close to the shore, and the fifth saw him on the pebbly edge, and the sixth on the river’s bank, the seventh half way to the spring, the eighth at the spring, the ninth advancing toward the trail, the tenth on the trail, the eleventh half way to the trail lodge, and then the chief, who had now ceased to scoff, when he looked up saw Hadiiusgowa in the clearing before the lodge. Hastily he commanded that all should enter the lodge, the youngest first and the rest according to their ages. When all had done so he fastened the door and lay down across the doorway. All except the two youngest suddenly became overcome with a stupor and fell into a deep sleep. The two youngest lay awake and listened to the efforts of the ghostly warrior to effect an entrance. Suddenly the door burst inward and with a yell the tchisga (ghost) swooped down upon the chief and scalping him brandished the scalp aloft and screeching, “Gowe! Gowe! Hadiiusgowa!” Jumping into the air he yelled a death cry and sped from sight, his cry growing fainter and fainter as he went. Returning shortly afterwards he scalped the next brother, returning at an interval to scalp one after another of the party. When the third oldest brother had been scalped and the tchisga had disappeared, his death cry echoing fainter and fainter as he sped further and further, the second youngest brother was overcome with a lethargy and fell into a deep sleep from which he never awoke, for the tchisga returned and killed him, as he had the ten others. The youngest then began to despair saying to himself, “I cannot escape even by running nor can I hide for Hadiiusgowa has power to discover me wherever I go, but even a tchisga may be deceived.” So saying he placed some bloody deer meat on his head and pulled his bear skin cap tightly over his brow. Wrapping his blanket around his ears so as to leave no part of his body exposed he waited the coming of Hadiiusgowa. His skin at least was protected from the death touch of the tchisga and perhaps he would escape. Soon the wraith came screaming into the lodge crying, “I have slain eleven and now the twelfth shall go!” Grabbing a bunch of black hair that protruded from a robe of deer skin he haggled off a circular piece and with a demonic shriek flew into the air crying “Gowe! Gowe! Hadiiusgowa!”

The boy finding himself unhurt jumped to his feet with the exclamation, “I will follow the tchisga and outwit him yet!” So he ran out into the darkness.

The ghost soon discovered his error and the boy could hear his cries of rage in the distance. He approached rapidly screaming, “You cannot escape me, you cannot hide from me!” Each yell stole the strength from the muscles of the frightened boy who soon sank in dispair to the ground. The tchisga was coming and there seemed no escape. Feebly lifting his head the boy saw a hollow elm log and in a dazed way remembered that he had heard of hollow logs. Mustering all his strength he crawled in the log and none too soon for just as he had stowed himself within the protecting log the ghost struck it with the cry, “Now I have you!”

It is strange, but a ghost never can enter the space within a hollow log. Thus the tchisga cut a sharp stick which he thrust in the hole at one end hoping to spear the boy. But his victim was not an easy one for he caught the thrusts deftly and turned them aside. Finally realizing that he could not harm the boy in this manner he yelled, “I know where you sit and will kill you yet!” Then he commenced to chop a hole into the log where he judged his victim to be but when it had been made the boy had moved further in and escaped the thrusts of the spear. Another hole was made but all the prodding that the tchisga made had no effect upon the elusive boy. A third trial had no better result and finally the tchisga screamed, “The next hole will bring me success,—I cannot fail!” Then he fell to whacking the log until the raining blows sounded like the beating of a death drum. The hole was completed and the dispairing boy found that there were so many openings that he could not hope to escape. The tchisga prepared to grasp his victim and was on the point of uttering a yell of triumph when a little bird on a branch above began to twitter and the yell of victory turned to a groan of dispair. “Fortunate for you,” he cried, “but woe to me!” Then he faded into the glow of the morning when ghosts cease their black works.

The boy was highly elated at his good fortune but lost no time in dancing over the matter. Instead he jumped to his feet and ran with all his speed to the village crying as he went, “Gowe, gowe!” His shrill cry awoke the villagers who hastened to the long house to listen to the distress news that someone was bringing. Dashing into the council the boy related his story and when he had finished the village sachem arose and said, “If this boy’s tale is true we are all threatened with the ghostly warrior. Now we know why arrows never killed him,—he was a wizard. We must kill him before he kills us. We must burn his body. First then let four swift runners go to the first day trail house and see if conditions are as reported and in the meantime we will prepare to kill the ghost.” The warriors hurried to obey instructions and after the runners had departed a company built a little cabin from large logs over the grave of the wizard and others gathered piles of logs for fuel. It was toward sunset when the runners returned and reported that things were just as the youngest brother had told. The grave was then dug into and a foot below the surface a sharpened pole was discovered and to it were fastened eleven scalps still bleeding and a small circle of bear skin. Below this was found the body of the witch-warrior steaming with sweat, his face and hands slimy with blood and his weapon still dripping red. The boy’s words were confirmed. A warrior lifted the terrible form from the bark upon which it rested and brought it into the cabin. The head sachem then addressed it. “You were a great warrior in life,” he said, “and we know that we never appreciated you. We now wish to make a great ceremony and have made a lodge for you where all may see you. So stay here and let us honor you.” So saying the chief backed out of the cabin and fastened the door. Heavy logs were piled over the structure and then a fire ignited that soon enveloped the whole mass. The flames soon ate their way into the burial lodge and filled it with a mass of burning coals. Logs were piled on higher and higher in order that they might press down the witch and give him no chance to escape. Suddenly a voice from the blazing coals sounded forth. With one long drawn wild scream it said, “I will kill you all, I am escaping despite you.” But a log falling pinned down the wizard who fell into his grave pit now white with heat. His head burst and when the steam was cleared away a screech owl was seen flying up from it. The warriors made a frantic effort to kill it but the intense heat prevented them and so it soared away into the night screaming defiance at its pursuers.

In this manner was the wizard-warrior killed but his spirit still hovers over the land and wherever the screech owl lingers there is the evil spirit brooding mischief.

GENERAL NOTES.—In this legend we have several interesting
ethnological allusions. We are told of “trail houses,” which were
erected at intervals along the trails throughout the Iroquois
country, and in which food and other necessities were left by
travelers who had used the shelter. Inquiry brought out the fact
that these public hospices were common in the old days and were
frequently built in response to dreams. We are also given a glimpse
of the burial rites of warriors, and told that the corpse was
properly painted and then doubled up in its grave. We are again
given an account of the magical qualities of a hollow log, which a
ghost cannot enter. Here, also, we are told that a wizard’s head
when burned bursts and sends forth screech-owls,—birds of ill omen
to the red man as to us of today.

35. THE CANNIBAL AND HIS NEPHEW.

De‘o´niot was Oñgwe Iās, a man-eater. He had developed his man-flesh appetite early in his childhood because his mother had associated with witches. He lived in a hidden place far away from other human habitations. The only human creature who came near him and was not eaten was his nephew who lived on the other side of the partition that divided his long bark house. The cannibal was fond of his nephew and did not wish to come into close contact with him, lest his appetite for flesh become too strong a temptation and leave him without a companion. Thus it was he divided his house and satisfied himself with the sound of the youth’s voice, for each hunted their game separately and rarely saw each other.

One day as the nephew was sitting on his doorstep, he saw a beautiful woman approaching. She advanced and sat down by his side.

“I would like to marry you,” she said after a moment’s pause.

“I would like to marry you also,” was the answer, and then he added, “but you would not be my wife long because my uncle would eat you.”

“Oh then you had better watch that he does not eat you. If he does not I am satisfied he will not take me,” replied the woman.

“Well, if you are determined after what I have told you, I cannot say further but take you.” Leading her into the lodge he continued, “My uncle will call from his room for someone to bring him my bow or axe with which to slay some animal. Do not answer him but keep very silent and do not venture from the lodge to satisfy his wants. Obey my instructions for I am going on a hunting journey.”

Empty handed and hungry De‘o´niot returned from his hunting excursion. Going into his apartment he flung himself upon the floor to rest, then starting up, he called, “Hurry, bring me my hatchet, Oh quick, I need it immediately to kill this beast!”

Forgetting all that her husband had told her the bride picked up a hatchet and a bow and ran around the lodge to the opposite door.

When the nephew returned he found his wife missing. The only trace of her was her skirt that lay on the floor.

“Ho!” he exclaimed, “De‘o´niot has feasted on my woman and thrown her skirt to me as a reminder.” Then calling to his uncle he asked, “Oh uncle, how did you discover my woman?”

“Because I knew that it was not your breathing but a breath much faster that I heard over the partition,” was the reply.

The next day another woman came with a proposal of marriage. At first refusing her, and then accepting her on the condition that she would quietly remain in his room and heed not the entreaties of De‘o´niot, he married her, but when he returned from his hunting, she, like the first, had formed the repast of his uncle, who as before flung her dress over the partition. In like manner another wife came and was eaten.

Finally a married woman came weeping through the woods and begged De‘o´niot to protect her.

“Protect you!” the man-eater roared, “O ho! I would be more apt to eat you. That is my business,—eating people!”

“Oh protect me!” pleaded the woman, “for my husband is a ferocious giant and is now pursuing me!”

“So truly if that is the case you had better go into my nephew’s room where I cannot reach you and stay there while I watch for that man of yours.”

Presently in the distance De‘o´niot saw a giant striding through the underbrush.

“Ho, ho!” he exclaimed to himself, “That woman is the first one I ever saw and liked, so I am truly glad to do her a service in destroying her man-giant.”

With a whoop the giant pounced upon De‘o´niot. “Where is my wife?” he bellowed.

De‘o´niot did not answer but grasped the giant’s throat and after a frightful struggle twisted his neck.

“I am greatly obliged to you,” he called to the woman. “Such an amount of flesh will keep me from hunger for many days.”

When the nephew returned he found the new wife awaiting him and after some questioning he accepted her.

“That is right!” called the uncle over the partition, “don’t worry, she is a good woman. I will not eat her.”

“Wife,” he said, “I believe that we must depart from these regions for I fear that my uncle will become so hungry that he will forget his love for us.”

Soon afterward the uncle from his chamber shouted:

“Oh my children, do not leave. You fear my appetite but I promise you that I will never harm you.”

The nephew (however), would not believe these promises, but thought his uncle only shaming. In order to discuss the matter further he awoke his wife in the middle of the night and in whispers talked with her, how best to escape.