sister will kill you for she is jealous.” So Gaqka arose and took his
bride to his own lodge. Soon the rock spoke and began to relate wonder
stories of things that happened in the old days. The bride was not
surprised, but said, “This standing rock, indeed, is my grandfather. I
will now present you with a pouch into which you must put a trophy for
every tale related.”
All winter long the young couple stayed in the lodge on the great rock
and heard all the wonder tales of the old days. Gaqka’s bag was full of
stories and he knew all the lore of former times.
As springtime came the bride said, “We must now go north to your own
people and you shall become a great man.” But Gaqka was sad and said,
“Alas, in my own country I am an outcast and called by an unpleasant
name.”
The bride only laughed, saying, “Nevertheless we shall go north.”
Taking their pelts and birdskins, the young couple descended the cliff
and seated themselves in the canoe. “This is my canoe,” said the bride.
“I sent it through the air to you.”
The bride seated herself in the bow of the canoe and Gaqka in the stern.
Grasping a paddle he swept it through the water, but soon the canoe
arose and went through the air. Meanwhile the bride was singing all
kinds of songs, which Gaqka learned as he paddled.
When they reached the north, the bride said, “Now I shall remove your
clothing and take all the scars from your face and body.” She then
caused him to pass through a hollow log, and when Gaqka emerged from the
other end he was dressed in the finest clothing and was a handsome man.
Together the two walked to the village where the people came out to see
them. After a while Gaqka said, “I am the boy whom you once were
accustomed to call ‘Cia’´dōdă’.’ I have now returned.” That night the
people of the village gathered around and listened to the tales he told,
and he instructed them to give him small presents and tobacco. He would
plunge his hand in his pouch and take out a trophy, saying, “Ho ho’! So
here is another one!” and then looking at his trophy would relate an
ancient tale.
Everybody now thought Gaqka a great man and listened to his stories. He
was the first man to find out all about the adventures of the old-time
people. That is why there are so many legends now.
10. THE FORBIDDEN ARROW AND THE QUILT OF MEN’S EYES.[20]
Now (it seems), there were twin brothers one named Younger and the other
Driven. The brothers were accustomed to play about two hills. Driven
would go up one hill and jump to the summit of the other. Younger would
stay in the valley between and amuse himself by shooting arrows at him
as he jumped. Now as Driven jumped Younger sang a song:
“Ha-do-wi, Ha-do-wi, Ha-do-wi, Ha-do-wi,
O-ne-di-no-o-ha-ga-gon Ha-do-wi!”
Now their grandmother always forbade them to use a certain arrow. This
arrow belonged to their father who used it. They played day after day in
this manner. After some time they began to discuss among themselves why
it was that their grandmother had forbidden them to use the arrow. Then
they decided notwithstanding to use the arrow. So Driven ascended the
hill and made ready to jump. Then Younger fixed his arrow ready to
shoot. Then Driven jumped and Younger shot the arrow. Now an arrow never
before had struck Driven as he jumped but this forbidden arrow pierced
his body and carried him in a northward direction. Now as he flew with
the arrow the arrow sang,
“Gwent-gwe-o, gwent-gwe-o, gwent-gwe-o!”
because it was feathered with the feathers of a wild duck. When Younger
saw what calamity his arrow had wrought he gave a scream of alarm and
started off in the direction of the arrow. He ran a long distance and
after some time found the body of his brother transfixed to the earth
with the arrow. He was not dead so he lifted him up and placed him on
his back. Then Driven directed him to follow a northward road.
“There is a house a certain distance away,” said Driven, “where a number
of women are gathered dancing. We must pass this house but we must not
look upon them. Oh brother, cast not your eyes upon one of them!”
Now as they passed along they heard the women singing. They heard the
echo of the songs and the sound of dancing. Soon they came near the
house and the women saw them and called out inviting them to look up and
see them. “Oh what have you on your back? Look up and behold us!” Now
Younger did not look up nor did he make reply for he knew that the women
were witches and that one glance of their eyes would be fatal to him. So
when he passed by he kept his eyes directed to the ground and stooped
over. So then they were safe.
Now again the brother spoke and said, “There is yet one more danger and
it is the last. It may be fatal. A company of women is making a quilt of
young men’s eyes. They gouge out the eyes of young men and sew them into
a blanket (quilt). Now the eyes live and wink as in life for the skin of
the eyelids are with the eyes. Now we must pass through their lodge and
if we can do so without looking at the awful quilt we will be safe
then.”
Now the lodge was a long one and when the two brothers entered the women
saw them and said, “Bend not so low. Look up and see the beautiful quilt
we are making. It is beautiful. What is it that you have upon your back?
Look up!” Younger gave no heed to the words of the women but continued
through the room. They were about to emerge from the door at the back
when one woman held the quilt before the eyes of Younger. She held it
where he saw it. Then Younger saw no more. He was blind and he had no
eyes in his eye-sockets; they had jumped out and into the quilt. Driven
leaped from his back and jumped out of the door. He did not know where
Driven went.
Now Younger could not see, so he crept on his hands and knees. He crept
a long ways and after a time he came to a place where corn was planted.
There he halted for he thought that some one would surely notice him
when they came to examine the corn. So he lay down there, and there he
lay day after day. After a long time he heard the sound of a woman’s
voice singing. And soon the woman saw him and was surprised to find a
man in the field. She ran home to her sister and told her that a man was
in the field and that he had no eyes in his eye-sockets. He was a human
being, blind and alive. His eye-sockets were hollow. Then the older
sister said, “We must not leave a human being in distress. We must take
him into our house and nurse him to health. He will be a companion for
us. We are alone.” So they went and found him and brought him to their
house. They cleansed him and fed him on bear’s oil, for he had not eaten
for a long time. Afterwards he was given stronger food. They gave him
nourishment until he was stronger. After a time he grew strong and then
they asked him how he came to be in so bad a condition. So he related
how it happened.
“I was passing through a house,” he said, “and there were women within
making a quilt of young men’s eyes. They put the quilt under my face and
I saw and then I became blind. My brother was on my back for an arrow
was through him. He disappeared. I know not where my brother is. So did
the accident happen.”
Now Younger recovered his strength and then the older sister said, “You
must marry my younger sister and live here as our companion.” So he
consented and married the younger sister.
Now it appeared that after a certain time his wife gave birth to twins,
boys. The older one they named Hanonni-da, meaning, he is a thistle, and
the younger one they called Ho-da-da-o meaning, he cries. At the time of
their birth the older sister called out their names and tossed them into
the adjoining room. Then she told the husband that he was the father of
twins and he gave thanks. Now the children seemed to be wizards. They
did not suckle but played alone together in the room. No one talked to
them but they talked. After a time they asked for a net ball that they
might play lacrosse. So a net, a net-club and ball were brought to them.
Then they played lacrosse in the room. Then they went out doors and
played and again they went into the ground under the house and played.
After a time they asked for bows and arrows. Then they went away for
long periods of time, no one knew where. After a time the older sister
brought them into the living room and said, “It is time for you to see
your father.” So they said, “We will see our father.” Then the father
felt over them for the first time and touched them. They climbed over
his lap and played with him. After a time they began to laugh at him and
the Last said, “How can he be my father since he has no eyes? I believe
that he is not my father.” Then he asked his father, “Where are your
eyes?” Then the father answered him, “In a certain place there are women
making a quilt from young men’s eyes. Once I had to pass through their
house and I would not look upon the quilt but they forced it under my
face and that was the last that I saw. My brother was on my back and he
jumped. Now I know not where my brother is. He has gone from me.” The
Last replied, “Father, we will go there and get back your eyes.” But the
older folk said, “Do not try, the women are horrible witches and we
would lose you. We forbid you to go. So do not go.” So the boys went out
and played together.
The two sisters went out after a time to get provisions and the father
was left alone with the boys. He heard them talking together. It was
strange and he did not understand them. “Hang on, hang on,” they were
saying. “Hang on and after a time we will reach where father is and he
will help us.” So they talked and pulled and called out each other’s
names. Now it happened that they took their father by the hand and
placed upon him the body of a human being. They had pulled it up through
the ground. Now the body of the man they had, had an arrow in his chest.
Also he had no eyes in his eye-sockets and he was nearly dead. The man
was the father’s brother. Then the children said, “We will go and borrow
some eyes for you that you may look upon each other.” So they went into
the forest and when they had found a fawn they asked if she would give
her consent if they should ask for her eyes to put in their father’s
eye-sockets. The fawn consented when she heard their story and gave them
her eyes. So they gave her moss to eat while they were gone. They went
home with the fawn’s eyes and placed them in the father’s eye-sockets.
Then he saw how his children looked and he was glad. So, moreover, they
saw how he appeared when he had eyes in his eye-sockets. And they said,
“Father, how long your eyelashes are!” for the fawn’s eyelashes were
long. Now also the father saw his brother and was glad that it was he.
Then said the boys, “We are now going in search of both of your eyes and
you will have a joyous time.” Then they took the eyes of the fawn and
carried them back to her and thanked her for their use.
Now they went on their journey to the place where their father had told
them the house of the women quilting was. After a time they found it.
Now on their way they had been discussing their plans. They decided to
hide at the spring. Last was to transform himself into a duck and
Thistle-like was to wait in hiding. They reached the spring and the
younger brother changed himself into a duck and swam upon the surface of
the spring. The older brother hid himself. Now after a time the youngest
sister from the house came down to the spring for water and saw a duck
swimming in the spring. So she tried to catch him but the duck dodged
whenever she tried to grasp him. Then as she jumped over the spring the
duck entered her body. Then she went home and the old woman of the house
said, “Daughter you look as if you would soon have a child. It must be
by the Creator for no man has passed this way.” So after a short time
the daughter gave birth to a boy and the mother said, “It must be the
gift of the Creator for no man has passed by.” Now the child would cry
and would only be pacified when some valuable object was shown him. But
soon again he would cry and they would show him another treasure. Now he
began to cry very hard and nothing would pacify him, not even all their
valued treasures. So the old woman said, perhaps the quilt of human eyes
would please him, so the quilt was brought and he ceased crying and
played with the quilt. Then the women all went out to work in the field.
Now when they were gone he took the quilt and folded it and ran out of
the house. The women discovered him and pursued him with hammers. They
closed about him endeavoring to strike him but he dodged and they struck
each other and killed each other, all but one and he killed her. Then he
went and found his brother.
Now they returned home and greeted their father. They asked him what
kind of eyes he had had and the father answered, “Oh they were peculiar
eyes. They had a reddish cast.” Now the Last found the eyes and took
them off the quilt and placed them back in his father’s eye-sockets. And
when the father had his own eyes he said, “There are the eyes of my
brother.” So the boys took them from the quilt and placed them in their
uncle’s eye-sockets. And they saw each other and were very glad. Then
the younger twin said, “We must now go and find the bones of the dead
and restore them their eyes.” So they went and found the graves of the
dead and gathered together all their skeletons,—half as many as there
were eyes. And a voice from the pile spoke and said, “We are under the
cover of a white bear.” So the boys found a white bear and skinned it
and built a lodge like a sweat lodge and covered it over with the skin
of the white bear. In the lodge they placed the bones of the dead men.
In a short time the wigwam began to quiver and then the younger brother
ran to an elm tree and began to kick it and it fell over and as it was
falling he cried, “The tree is falling upon you. Flee for your lives.”
Now as they heard his warning the skeletons arose and ran out of the
wigwam and into the woods. Now the eyes had been placed upon the skulls
and the people had time to select their own, but Last was too hasty in
kicking over the tree and they had little time to find their own bones.
Thus when they came together in the woods they found themselves in a
mixed condition. Some had legs too short, some had long arms and short
legs,—their limbs, ribs, feet and finer bones were mismated. Then Last
was sorry he had been so hasty. So he asked them all where they lived
and some knew but some did not. He told all that knew to go to their
homes and he told all that did not to come home with him. Now they went
home with him but the house was too small to contain all. Then Last
paced out the dimensions of a large house and his footprints outlining
it were on the ground. Then he commanded a house to spring up and it did
and was large enough to hold all the men and they lived there. Now these
were cripples and deformed people and from them sprang the deformed and
ugly people of today. Now the uncle recovered his health and the older
sister married him so there were two couples in the house. So everything
came out well and everyone was happy. So the legend ends.
NOTE.—The legend of the magic arrow and the quilt of eyes is a
typical Seneca transformation myth. Its characteristic elements are,
the orenda of twins, the magic arrow which they were forbidden to
use, the transfixing of one party with an arrow and the tests of
magic. The conception of the quilt of young men’s eyes appears in
other stories, as also does that of borrowing eyes from animals to
assist persons who had lost their eyeballs. The theme of the magical
twins who grew to immediate maturity and played under the ground is
also one employed elsewhere. The idea of conception through entering
into a female to be born of her, also is a more or less frequent
episode. As in other legends, the hero who acquires great orenda
ends his career by restoring the bones of the magically slain and
hastening their resurrection to such an extent that they appear with
mismated limbs, thereby being the first monsters and cripples.
This legend was related in the Seneca tongue by Edward Cornplanter,
and translated by William Bluesky, whose language forms the bulk of
the version here presented. Certain corrections were made after
reading the recorded account to Cornplanter.
11. CORN GRINDER, THE GRANDSON.[21]
In a clearing in a thick pine forest there lived an old man and woman.
Their lodge was far away from any Indian village, for they had no liking
for the company of other people. They were a strange couple and often
talked with trees, and the trees would answer them.
With the old folk lived a boy, their grandson, but he found no pleasure
in the society of his grandparents, for they would never speak to him
except to admonish him not to wander beyond certain limits.
“Go east, go west, go north,” they said, “but not away from the sound of
the corn grinder. We have named you Corn Grinder so that you remember.
Listen, never go south. Remember!”
Each morning after breakfast Corn Grinder would run into the woods with
his bow and pass his time hunting birds. He became an expert marksman
and could bring down a bird as far as his arrow could fly. By the time
he was twelve years old he was familiar with the woods, to the east, the
west and the north as far as the sound of his grandmother’s corn grinder
reached. As he grew older he began to wonder why it was that daily the
old people repeated the same old charge. “Go east, go west, go north,
but not away from the sound of the grinder. Never go south!”
“Ho!” he exclaimed, “I will go south as far as I please.”
Taking his bow and quiver he ran from the lodge, skirted the clearing
and came around to the southern border. With arrow fixed for instant use
he skulked from tree to tree. He was going toward the forbidden south!
Surely there must be some hideous monsters, poisonous reptiles or
terrible witches here, that made his grandparents enjoin him to shun the
south woods. They would not tell him what it was and because of this he
was determined to find out at any cost. He listened at every footstep
and glanced anxiously in every direction. His fears began to subside,
however, when he saw nothing unusual. The same kind of birds flew in the
trees and fell when his arrows pierced them. Plainly there were no
witches here. He strode on bolder than before nor halted until in the
distance he heard the sound of a corn mortar. He was on the alert in an
instant, dropped on his hands and knees and crawled forward, covering
his approach by the trunks of the pines. Presently he saw a few paces
ahead an opening and drawing nearer saw an immense bark lodge in the
clearing. A gigantic woman was standing beneath a tall tree cooking corn
soup in a huge kettle. An extraordinarily large baby board leaned
against the tree but no baby was in sight. Crawling, serpent-like, he
wriggled his way through the high grass to the lodge. Entering it he saw
a large fat baby, tall as a warrior and as fat as an old woman. The day
was hot and the baby was without clothing as it lay on a couch of skins.
Peering stealthily from the door he saw that the giantess was coming
toward the lodge. Trembling yet determined to learn all he could of the
strange folk, he concealed himself under the hemlock branches beneath
the bed.
The woman came in and stretched herself out on the floor for a nap. The
baby commenced to cry and then nearly crushed Corn Grinder by rolling
over the very spot beneath which he lay. This made Corn Grinder angry
indeed, and crawling out as best he could he ran from the lodge, skimmed
a ladle full of scalding grease from the soup and running in threw it
upon the baby’s abdomen and fled to the edge of the woods.
The infant awoke with a piercing shriek and began rubbing its stomach in
frenzy, howling like a stricken wolf with agony. This awoke the mother
who did her best to soothe her child and discover how it had been so
mysteriously injured.
Meanwhile little Corn Grinder had thrown a bunch of pungent weeds into
the soup and hastily concealed himself in a thicket.
Soon the gigantic woman emerged from the lodge and began stirring the
soup. She drew a deep breath as its appetizing vapors reached her
nostrils and said, “Age-wiu, how good!” Presently she began to sneeze.
Again she sneezed and again and again, until she could scarcely stand,
tears streaming from her eyes, water from her nose and saliva from her
mouth. “Agē! Agē!” she gasped, “Some witch must be near.”
Little Corn Grinder chuckled with glee and rolled over and over, his
sides quaking with merriment, to think how his weeds were destroying the
giantess.
The fire died down, the steam ceased rising and the strangely affected
woman stopped sneezing. The soup was done by this time and going back to
the house the woman strapped the baby to the board and grasping a basket
of bread and meat in one hand and the kettle of soup in the other,
started off in a southerly direction. Corn Grinder followed close behind
and saw her stop at a huge dead tree.
“Luk-ste, luk-ste, da-ja-jent!
Luk-ste, luk-ste, da-ja-jent!”
sang the woman in a low voice. The ground beneath them rumbled and in a
moment the tree opened and out stepped a tall giant saying “Onĕk to-ha!”
He greeted the woman with a friendly slap, patted the baby and then
poured a laddle-full of soup down his throat. The pungent weeds burned
the giant’s mouth. Wildly he danced around the tree tearing up the sod
and holding his mouth open, drew his breath in and out to cool his
blistered throat and tongue. When the smarting sensation ceased he ran
toward the offending dish, and gave the kettle a kick that sent it
flying over the trees and spilling the soup over the frightened woman
and baby. The angered giant then began to berate the giantess for the
mean trick she had played on him and kept grumbling until he had
devoured the bread and meat and disappeared into the tree.
Corn Grinder’s eyes bulged from his head and he shuddered as, ear to the
ground, he heard strange subterranean roarings. “Wah!” he exclaimed,
“why can not I say ‘Luk-ste, luk-ste’?”
Gliding through the grass and bushes he followed the woman back to the
lodge where she began to wash corn previous to preparing another meal
for the giant in the tree.
“When the sun stands high she’ll be ready again,” said Corn Grinder to
himself. “Then I will say ‘Luk-ste, luk-ste!’—that’s fun.”
With this determination he crawled back and hid behind a tree facing the
mysterious dead trunk.
When the sun had risen to the mid-heavens Corn Grinder arose from his
hiding place and walking cautiously to the mysterious tree struck it
sharply with his bow, singing in a low tone the woman’s song, then
jumped quickly back and fixed his arrow for instant use.
The ground trembled, the tree shook, then opened and the giant came
forth. He looked around in all directions and growled in rage when he
failed to discover any one: “More tricks,” he yelled.
Corn Grinder watched his chance and when the giant’s back was turned, he
let fly an arrow piercing him through the stomach. Without a groan the
giant fell. Corn Grinder looked down the path, saw the woman coming and
fled with all haste back through the forest to his grandparents’ lodge.
Bursting in the door he exclaimed breathlessly, “Oh grandmother! I
killed him, I killed him!”
“Hold on,” said his grandmother, “who did you kill? Tell me all about
it.”
Corn Grinder obeyed, omitting no detail of the adventure.
“Agē!” wailed the old woman. “You have killed your father, my own son.
You must go on a long journey to a high mountain and obtain certain
magical roots to restore him! You must go immediately! O grandson, why
did you disobey us? How often did we tell you never to go south. All
your family are wizards and witches and we hoped to save you! Agē, Agē!”
“I went, grandmother,” replied the boy, “because you told me not to go.
If you had told me everything I should never have gone. Now hurry and
get food for our journey,—two are going.”
As he was speaking the giantess and the baby came running down the path
and rushed into the lodge.
“Corn Grinder has killed his father!” screamed the giantess.
“Where is he, where is he? We are going to kill him!”
“All right,” said Corn Grinder, popping out from under a bed, “kill me
if you can.”
The furious giantess seized a corn mortar, the baby a pestle, and each
strove to hit the boy with these weapons.