judges were compelled to order the warriors to drive the crowd back
again with the points of their spears.
In the noise, confusion and excitement every one forgot the birds
perched on a cross bar at the top of the pole supporting the target.
There was a blue jay, a raven, a white dove and a green parrot. Each
had a string attached to one leg. Now of course they remembered and
crowded around to hear what the judges would say.
"Will the prince of the jossakeeds take a shot at the birds before
being crowned with the Yew wreath of valor?"
As soon as the Golden Hearted could make himself heard he said:
"I am willing to comply with your request, but I hope I shall not hurt
any of the birds."
"The parrot shall cry your aim, and must remain unharmed. You may kill
the blue or the black bird, but you must release the peaceful dove
uninjured. Will you remember these conditions?"
The Golden Hearted came within range and waited for a favorable
opportunity. By a sudden jerk of the cord coming down the side of the
pole the cross bar was set to whirling rapidly and this frightened the
birds until they tried to fly away. The parrot was chained fast and to
make the aim more difficult, the other birds were fastened by strings
of different lengths. The marksman must free each one of them and then
hit it before it could escape. The first liberated was the blue jay.
The Golden Hearted cut the cord neatly and wounded the bird while it
was still rising. The arrow fell near the base of the pole bringing
the right wing with it.
This won him the wreath, and he now turned to the wise men for a
signal. They could demand the last three shots. Would they do it? He
inclined his head toward them as one of the number picked up a black
flag and waved it. There was an answering shout and a cheer, and the
Golden Hearted prepared to shoot again. This time he aimed at the
raven and cut the string near the pole. Its weight caused the captive
to fly in an oblique line downward for a moment. Quick as a flash the
second arrow sped and the raven fell to the ground pierced through the
heart! Without looking to see what had happened the Golden Hearted
shot at the dove and as it flew up in a circle everybody saw that it
was unharmed.
[Illustration: "THE HOUSE OF WUNZH"]
Then they fought and struggled with each other for the privilege of
carrying the victor off the grounds, but the Golden Hearted escaped
through a side door and ran away as fast as he could. He did not wish
to speak to any one nor have them see how unhappy he felt. He really
was heartbroken because he had killed the raven.
The Birth of Corn
Wunzh was greatly disturbed and downcast over his defeat because he
thought the Great Spirit had sent the Golden Hearted in answer to his
supplications, and he now felt certain that he was in disfavor. He lay
awake all night thinking what he could do to win a token of good will
from the Great Spirit. He knew better than to ask anything for
himself, but begged and implored that it should be something for the
benefit of his tribe.
"Michabo says I eat too much flesh, and that I must learn to fast
before any good will come to me," he said over and over to himself.
"He shall see that I know how to obey even if my arrows do go wide of
the mark." There was a great lump in his throat and to tell the truth
there were a few tears trickling down his cheeks, but he brushed them
away quickly as he rose to his feet and shook out the buffalo robes
which had answered for his bed.
"I will go to a secret place in the forest and build me a lodge, and
there I will stay and fast until the Great Spirit grants my wish."
He told no one of his intention and was gone several days before he
was missed at the council fires where the wise men were instructing
the medicine men in the use of a wampum belt made of different colored
beads. The colors were the same as the Quippos and the counting with
them was done in the same manner. While the women were weaving a very
handsome wampum belt to be used as a council brand of authority, the
wise men helped build a Long House in the center of the confederation
of tribes to put it in. Then they ordered four other Long Houses built
on the north, east, south and west corners of the country, so that the
runners would have some place to stay when they started with the
wampum belt to let the outside tribes know the will of the council.
The Golden Hearted did not seem to take any interest in this work at
all, but went among the people playing all kinds of pranks. Sometimes
he frightened them nearly to death, and then again he would set them
into roars of laughter by the funny things he did. He invented so many
tricks and was so full of mischief that every one was on the lookout
and attributed all the happenings they could not account for in any
other way to him whether he did them or not.
"What has become of Wunzh? Has anybody seen him?" began to be constant
queries, and his family looked very sad indeed. The Golden Hearted
knew where he was and that he was fasting, so he waited until
nightfall and then dressed himself in rich garments of green and
yellow shading into light and dark tints. Putting on his crown with
the long green Quetzal plumes he slipped off into the woods to find
Wunzh. Approaching the lodge he said:
"I am sent to you, my friend, by that Great Spirit who made all things
in the sky and on the earth. He has seen and known your motives in the
fasting. He sees that it is from a kind and benevolent wish to do good
to your people and to procure a benefit for them and not for strength
in war or the praise of warriors. I come to show you how to do your
kindred good, but you must rise and wrestle with me."
Wunzh knew that he was weak from fasting, but felt his courage rising
in his heart, and he got up immediately determined to die rather than
fail.
He instantly clinched with the Golden Hearted and wrestled with him
until nearly exhausted.
"My friend, this is enough for to-day. I will come again to try you
to-morrow at the same hour."
The Golden Hearted came dressed in the same fashion and wrestled with
Wunzh for three successive evenings. Each day the faster's strength
grew less and less, but he was more determined than ever.
[Illustration: THE WRESTLING MATCH]
"To-morrow will be your last trial. Be strong, my friend, for
this is the only way you can overcome me and obtain the boon you
seek."
The next day the poor youth exerted his utmost power and after awhile
the Golden Hearted ceased wrestling.
"I am conquered," he said, and went into the lodge and began to teach
Wunzh. "You have wrestled manfully and have fasted seven days. Now you
must strip off my clothing and throw me down. Clean the earth of roots
and reeds; make it soft and bury these garments here. When you have
done this be careful never to let the grass grow over the spot. Once a
month cover it with fresh earth. If you follow these instructions you
will do great good to your fellow creatures."
In the morning the father of Wunzh came with some slight refreshments,
saying:
"My son, you have fasted long enough. If the Great Spirit intends to
favor you he will do it now. It is seven days since you tasted food
and you must not sacrifice your health. That the Master of Life does
not require of you."
"Wait, father, until the sun goes down. I have a particular reason for
extending my fast until that hour."
"Very well," said the father, kindly. "I will wait until you feel
inclined to eat."
Even though he was hungry the young man felt strangely renewed and
strengthened and when it was night he was ready to wrestle with the
Golden Hearted again. When he thought he had killed the prince he
took off his garments and plumes and buried them as he had been told
to do. Afterwards he returned to his father's lodge and partook
sparingly of food, but he never for a moment forgot the new-made
grave.
Because he was so full of pranks and tricks, the descendants of the
Mound Builders saw something mysterious and strange in everything the
Golden Hearted did, and when he built a boat to go down the great
river in, they said it was a magic canoe and expected almost anything
to happen. However before he and the wise men went away, they made him
the father and guardian of their nation, and they have considered him
as such ever since.
Weeks went by and the summer was drawing to a close when Wunzh
returned after a long absence in hunting. Going to his father he
invited him to come to the quiet lonesome spot where he had fasted so
long. There in a circle freed from weeds stood a tall graceful plant
with bright colored silken hair surmounted by nodding plumes,
luxuriant green leaves and clusters of golden grain on each side.
"It is my friend, and the friend of all mankind. It is Mondamin, the
spirit of corn. We need no longer rely on hunting alone for so long as
this gift is cherished and taken care of the ground itself will give
us a living. See, my father," said Wunzh, pulling off an ear, "this is
what I fasted for. This is why Michabo put me through so many trials.
But the Great Spirit has listened to my voice and sent us something
new. Our people need no longer depend upon the chase and the water for
food."
Then he told his father how he had wrestled with the Golden Hearted,
and how he had torn off his garments.
"He said I was to treat the ear in the same manner, and when it was
stripped I must hold it to the fire until the outer skin becomes brown
while all the milk is retained in the grain."
The whole family of Wunzh joined in a feast on the roasted ears, and
were very grateful for such a rich blessing. And this is the way the
Indians say corn came into the world.
We learned its use from them, and also to hold the old-fashioned
husking bees where all the young people got together and pulled off
the husks after the ripe ears of corn had been gathered into the barn.
It was always great fun, especially when they found red ears, but let
us see what the Indians used to say about it:
Then Nokomis, the old woman,
Spake and said to Minnehaha:
"'Tis the moon when leaves are falling
All the wild rice has been gathered
And the maize is ripe and ready;
Let us gather in the harvest,
Let us wrestle with Mondamin,
Strip him of his plumes and tassels,
Of his garments green and yellow."
And the merry Laughing Water
Went rejoicing from the wigwam,
With Nokomis old and wrinkled,
And they called the women round them,
Called the young men and the maidens,
To the harvest of the cornfields,
To the husking of the maize ear.
On the border of the forest,
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees,
Sat the old man and the warriors
Smoking in the pleasant shadow
In uninterrupted silence
Looked they at the gamesome labor
Of the young men and the women;
Listened to their noisy talking,
To their laughter and their singing
Heard them chattering like the magpies,
Heard them laughing like the blue-jays,
Heard them singing like the robins.
And whene'er some lucky maiden
Found a red ear in the husking
Found a maize-ear red as blood is,
"Nuska!" cried they all together,
"Nuska! you shall have a sweetheart,
You shall have a handsome husband!"
"Ugh!" the old men all responded
From their seats behind the pine-trees.
And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking,
Found a maize-ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together,
Crept and limped about the cornfields,
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man bent almost double,
Singing singly or together
Till the cornfields rang with laughter,
"Ugh!" the old men all responded,
From their seats behind the pine-trees.
The Indians have many pretty stories about the birth of corn. When the
two little slender green leaves come up through the ground they say
that it is the long green plumes of the crown buried by Wunzh and when
it is ready for harvest they think the green and gold of the leaves
and grain are the rest of the garments turned into a plant. They say
that if you stand near a cornfield in the moonlight you can hear
Mondamin, the corn spirit, murmuring and complaining of the way we
treat him to the wind, the stars, and the little insects hidden in the
glossy leaves and silken tassels.
[Illustration]
The Wrathy Chieftain
After sailing down the great river for many days the Golden Hearted
and the wise men came into a trackless waste with no means of finding
their way out except by watching where the sun rose and shooting an
arrow ahead of them. This was very slow work and they all grew quite
discouraged over it.
"It is altogether too bad that for fear of getting lost we must halt
each time and speed another arrow before we overtake the last one,"
said the Golden Hearted one day when they were nearly worn out with
the heat and dust of a country not much better than a desert. "I have
a feeling," he continued, "that we will not be well treated by the
people we find here. I do so wish we might come to the cactus and the
rock with a serpent at its base where my father commanded me to found
a city in honor of the sun."
"We are going in the right direction," answered the wise men, "but the
end of our search is not yet."
"And much as my heart yearns for the Happy Island I will not return to
my father until all his wishes have been fulfilled."
Through the murky gray clouds the stars did not make much light, and
there was only a thin crescent moon, which gave a sense of utter
loneliness to the Golden Hearted when he went to bed that night. The
coyotes all around him howled and that made it worse, but he finally
fell asleep. By and by he was awakened by a cold, wet nose touching
his hand, and when he raised up on his elbow to see what it was, there
stood a coyote. They are not very dangerous animals but they are
sneaking and treacherous. Now we know that the Golden Hearted was
gentle and kind to all creatures, and the coyote must have known it
too, for it rubbed its head on his hand and did not seem in the least
afraid.
"Come, my good fellow, let us be friends," said the Golden Hearted. "I
will not hurt you, and you can guide me to my brethren. I have never
seen their faces, but wish very much to find them."
The coyote wrinkled up his nose and made a funny little sneezing sound
as if he were talking, and he wagged his tail as friendly as a dog.
Maybe he did not understand what was said to him, but anyhow he felt
safe enough to lie down close to his new friend and go sound asleep.
When the wise men saw him the next morning, they said:
"It is a good omen and means that we shall soon come to a stopping
place where strange events will happen."
This put the Golden Hearted into a better humor because he felt less
doubtful and discouraged and he was much interested in the antics of
the sagacious little companion that trudged by his side all day long.
The coyote was enterprising enough to kill as many birds as it needed
for food, without going far out of the way and was not a whit of
trouble to anybody. There was not a tree nor a shrub to hide the
nakedness of the dusty plains, nor was it possible to rest with any
comfort until after the sun went down.
All of a sudden the coyote stopped short, pricked up its ears and
listened intently.
"Yelp! yelp! yelp!" was what the Golden Hearted heard, and it sounded
as if there were hundreds of young puppies everywhere. Looking closely
he discovered little heaps of earth with a smooth-headed animal
sitting on all fours beside it and yelping a protest to being
disturbed. They were right in the midst of a village of prairie dogs,
which are about the size of a jack-rabbit, but not nearly so
destructive.
"Come and see what I have found," called out the Golden Hearted to the
wise men who were coming up behind him. At the sound of his voice the
prairie dogs gave a quick, short yelp, their heels twinkled in the air
for a second, and they fairly turned a somersault diving into their
holes. By the time the wise men were ready to look there was not a
whisker of an inhabitant to be seen.
"What is it?" they said, "Where! we do not see anything."
"Watch these fresh piles of dirt, and you will see something come out
of them," said the Golden Hearted.
"Yes;" said one, "there are some rattlesnakes."
"And here are some owls," said another. "Is it possible that you have
never seen these creatures before?" and the wise men laughed at the
Golden Hearted and thought they had a good joke on him.
"Let us keep quiet for a while. I tell you there is something else in
those burrows besides snakes and owls," he insisted seriously.
Not hearing any more noise, one after another of the little prairie
dogs put its head up out of the hole, and then stole forth cautiously
to talk the matter over with its next door neighbor. There were
regular beaten pathways or lanes from one burrow to another and they
were evidently on very friendly footing with each other.
"These are indeed curious little animals," said the wise men, now much
interested. "They not only live in communities, but keep the peace
with their brothers, the snake and the owl. There is certainly no
greater source of knowledge than the book of nature. Here God puts
before us the thing He wishes us to learn."
At the very first words of the wise men the prairie dogs scampered
back into their holes; and before they showed themselves again a party
of husbandmen came along on their way to a harvest field which they
said was a day's journey ahead.
"Why do you linger in this desert?" they asked of the Golden Hearted.
"There are habitations farther on where the earth is watered."
"We are seeking those who need our assistance and must only tarry
where we are welcome," he answered.
"Then come to our commune. We have no one to show us how to heal the
sick nor to coax fertility out of this barren soil," they said. "If
you will go, we will remain for the night and lead the way."
So it was arranged and to everybody's comfort and joy it began to rain
shortly after and then the air was much more cool and pleasant.
The little prairie dogs were not so well pleased with this
arrangement. They stuck their noses up into the moist air and whined
and yelped half of the night. There can be no doubt that they were
holding an indignation meeting, and were having a noisy and windy
debate. May be they were comparing notes about the tall hats and veils
of the wise men, or they may not have thought their long beards
becoming. Or who shall say that they were not in their own peculiar
fashion devising plans for safety, and to vindicate their
offended dignity? They may have objected seriously to having strange
men intruding upon their privacy, and it must not be considered a
reflection on their courage because they scampered out of sight at the
sound of a human voice. It was quite enough to frighten inoffensive
little animals like these.
[Illustration: "THE WRATHY CHIEFTAIN"]
It is said that Katzimo, the enchanted Mesa, was the first
stopping-place of the Golden Hearted, and it is certain that the wise
men taught the husbandmen in that part of the world how to make
irrigating ditches and canals all through their inhospitable country,
because there are many remains of these waterways still to be seen.
Some say, too, that these people got the idea of living in pueblos or
villages from studying the habits of the prairie dogs and to this day
the coyote is thought to be a good friend by the descendants of these
ancient husbandmen.
"The hunters are angry with you for teaching the tillers of the soil
how to make the land fertile without making it easier for the men of
the chase to get food for themselves and families," said an old woman
to the Golden Hearted, one day as he stood watching her make a water
jar of clay. She would not have spoken had he not shown her how to
make a pretty design and also how to ornament it differently from
anything she had seen before.
"I am willing to teach them to weave blankets and baskets," he
replied. "The Good Law spares the life of every creature and forbids
our eating its flesh for food. The hunters should give up the chase
and fighting."
"They say that only women should do these things," said the old
pottery maker, "and they disdain to carry the rocks and mud to make
our dwellings."
"In this they are wrong," said the Golden Hearted, kindly, as he
turned to greet some of the wise men. "We must hasten our task for
already is discontent showing itself among the tribes," he said to
them.
"We must kindle the sacred fires and build the temple at once," they
said. "We have heard murmurings and complaints of late and know your
words are true."
As soon as possible they began the work of construction of what is now
known as the Casa Grande long since in ruins, of which we shall hear
more in the story of the Kingdom of Quivera. The wise men kindled and
guarded the sacred fires, and when leaving appointed warriors to take
turns in watching them.
"You must serve for two successive days and live during that time
without food, drink or sleep," they said, and that mandate has been
kept to this day. In the meantime the Golden Hearted busied himself
with teaching them the use of herbs and plants for medicine and had
them go into estufas or sweat houses when they were ill or wished to
purify themselves of a sin or fault.
Tradition says that the hunters lured the Golden Hearted away from
his comrades and tried to kill him, and that they threw the wise men
over the edge of the cliff, but it has been so long ago that no one
can remember what it was they did that wounded and hurt him. One day
he planted a tree upside down and calling all the people about him
said:
"Many, many years from now a strange nation will oppress you, and
there will be no more rain. I charge you to guard the sacred fires
well until the tree I have planted falls. Then I will come back and
bring a white race that will overcome your enemies. After that the
rain will fall, and the earth will be fertile again."
[Illustration: THE POTTERY MAKER]
The simple, frugal husbandmen and weavers are still looking for his
return and they believe he will descend from the sky by the columns
of smoke they guard. It has been so long ago that they think he lives
in the sun now, and build their houses with an opening to the east
which is never closed.
"We do this that he may find a welcome when he comes," they say.
Once every fifty years they put out all the sacred fires and go up on
the high mountain tops just before dawn, and wail and mourn and break
pottery, imploring the shining orb to bring back him
"Who dwelt up in the yellow sun
And sorrowing for man's despair
Slid by his trailing yellow hair
To earth to rule, by love and bring
The blessedness of peace."
[Illustration]
The Plumed Serpent, Quetzalcoatl
Far as the eye could reach stretched the beautiful valley of Anahuac,
where the air was sweet with the breath of flowers, and the earth
seemed to melt perfectly into the sky.
"Oh! that mine eyes should see the splendor of this vision," said
Mexi, the oldest of the wise men and the most learned, clasping his
hands in rapture. "Oh! that I have been spared to see the fruition of
thy will, great king and brother. Now may I go hence in peace."
As he ceased speaking he tottered and would have fallen had not one of
the tamanes or porters, seated on mats under the shade of a giant oak,
hastily risen, and caught him as his head fell forward on his bosom.
"The elements have undone thee," cried the Golden Hearted, kneeling
hurriedly by his side and supporting the drooping head on his knee.
"Thou art sadly in need of rest," he continued, alarmed at the pallor
overspreading Mexi's finely wrinkled face.
The old man pushed the thin white locks of hair off his forehead, let
the mantle slip back from his throat, and seemed to breathe easier.
"I am come to my final rest," he replied with a feeble smile. "It is
not given me to enter the promised land."
The tawny, broad-shouldered, half-clad tamanes, laid down the thin
cakes of ground corn they were eating and came near to the stricken
old man, while the other wise men took off their hats and listened
with bowed heads to what their comrade and leader said. They had
stopped to rest and refresh themselves with food under the cool
inviting shade of the trees where they could listen to the murmur of
waterfalls, and feast, the eyes on the landscape surrounding them.
"There!" said Mexi, attracted by the buzzing of tiny wings, "is the
green-throated humming-bird thou wert to follow as thy guide to the
spot where a city is to be built in honor of the sun."