Farther back than the memory of the oldest Red Man there once lived an
old woman named Cowoh. She was very proud for she was the daughter of a
great chief. She had three sons and one daughter. They lived in the
village of Naha, which was built along one side of a creek. On the
other side, the length of twenty canoes away, was the village of
Tee-hi-ton (Cedar Bark).
Now in the time of falling leaves, as was their custom, the three sons
went up on the mountain to hunt groundhogs. Each of the young men had
his own lodge and a fine hunting ground in the valley. They set their
traps and three days later the two younger brothers found their traps
full, but those of the eldest brother, Koot-da-nah, were empty. This
continued for as many days as there are fingers on both hands.
Then the hearts of the two young men were heavy and in sorrow for their
brother they proposed that they should give up hunting groundhogs and
hunt beavers instead.
So the next morning they went down to a nearby lake where the beavers
had made a big dam with a great tree to keep it from breaking.
Koot-da-nah said, “I shall knock down the tree and you boys stand ready
to club the animals when the water breaks and forces them out.”
His brothers were fearful and warned him to be careful, but as the tree
fell Koot-da-nah caught his foot in its roots and, pitching forward
into the lake, was drowned.
Atch-koog-tdoo-cha shook-ka (he-who-swims-like-a-fish) found the body
face downward on the bottom of the lake. Sorrowfully the brothers
carried it to their lodge.
Then Too-ke-tni-ka (the-fearless-one) said, “Some evil has fallen upon
my brother’s family in his absence and caused his death. I shall go
down to the village and find out what has happened.”
So that night Too-ke-tni-ka stole down to the village and, unseen,
crept into his mother’s house.
When Cowoh heard that her eldest son was drowned, she was full of
trouble and said, “Koshu, son of Chief Yee-khoo, from the village of
Tee-hi-ton has looked with evil eyes upon the wife of Koot-da-nah while
he has been absent and has visited her every night.”
Then Too-ke-tni-ka said, “I shall kill this man. Do not tell anyone I
am here. I shall hide in the forest and tomorrow I shall come limping
into the village as if my leg were broken. I shall lie down beside the
fire. Tell everyone I am suffering so they will go to bed early.”
The next day when the shadows lay short on the grass Too-ke-tni-ka
appeared in the village with his leg bound about with the bark of the
cedar tree and went to his mother’s lodge.
That night, when everyone was asleep, he wrapped himself in his blanket
and waited with his eyes fixed on the door of the lodge.
Long after darkness like a black curtain had settled down over the
village Too-ke-tni-ka crouched by the dying coals and his eyes were red
in the darkness and his ears were like the ears of the deer in the
forest.
At last there was a faint sound like the far-off cry of the night hawk
in the woods. The door of the lodge was pushed open and a dark shadow
stole across and entered the room of Kah-ook-too-ni, the Beautiful One.
Too-ke-tni-ka’s heart beat fast with anger. He listened long and then
rose and crept noiselessly into the room of his brother’s wife. By the
light of his beechwood stick he saw that indeed it was the chief’s son
who lay sleeping by the side of Kah-ook-too-ni. Then he drew his
hunting knife and cut off the head of the wicked one and taking it with
him sped like the wind through the sleeping-village to the hunting
lodge in the mountains where his brother awaited him.
Now Kah-ook-too-ni was awakened by the trickling of the warm blood
across her hand. When she saw what had happened she was afraid. Knowing
that when the chief’s son did not come home there would be a great
outcry and searching parties would be sent out, she rose and in great
haste dug a grave beneath the bed and buried the body.
Meanwhile, after Too-ke-tni-ka had told his brother all that had
happened, the two young men went down to the village and placed the
head of the chief’s son over the door of their lodge facing inside.
In the village of Tee-hi-ton there was much loud talking and angry
looks directed toward Naha when the tidings spread that Koshu, the son
of their chief, was missing. Searching parties were sent out, but as
the waves wash out footsteps in the sand, so had disappeared Koshu, the
fleet-footed.
Then Chief Yee-khoo called a council of his people. It was decided that
Wook-ya-koots (he-of-the-sharp-eyes) should be sent to Naha to get a
fire and see if he could discover what had become of Koshu.
Wook-ya-koots walked boldly across the frozen creek and entered the
lodge of Too-ke-tni-ka. As he bent over the fire to light his stick, he
looked stealthily around but saw nothing. But as he paused by the door
on his way out he felt the drip, drip of something on his feet. He went
outside, and, stooping, touched it with his finger.
It was blood!
Pretending to stumble, he put out his fire and again returned to the
lodge. As he bent over the coals with his hair falling over his eyes,
he looked and saw the head of the chief’s son over the door.
Then he made great haste back to his village and told what he had seen.
Chief Yee-khoo called all his braves together. They put on their war
paint and brandishing their war clubs, rushed across the creek and fell
upon the village, killing everyone in it and setting fire to their
lodges.
Only Cowoh and her daughter, who had hid under their lodge, were saved.
When at last the wild chant of the savage war dance of their enemies
ceased, they stole like black shadows through the forest to the lodge
in the mountains.
But after a time Cowoh’s heart was troubled.
“Who now will marry my daughter?” she asked herself. “There is no man
of my people left for her to wed.”
One day as she walked in the forest with her daughter, At-ku-dakt
(modest-little-one) she cried aloud, “Who now will marry my daughter?”
At once a little red bird came flying down and said: “I will marry your
daughter.”
But Cowoh heeded him not.
Then a squirrel ran down from a tree, a rabbit came out of the woods, a
deer paused in his flight, and each in turn said, “I will marry your
daughter.”
But Cowoh would have none of them.
Then Hoots, the great brown bear, came and said, “I can pull up huge
trees by the roots. I can tear a man’s head and body apart. I shall
marry your daughter.”
At-ku-dakh was terrified and hid behind her mother. Then the earth
began to tremble and the lightning flashed, and in the midst of it
appeared a handsome youth who said, “I shall marry your daughter and
take her up to my father, the Almighty One. You, Cowoh, I shall take
under one arm and At-ku-dakh under the other. Look not out or evil may
come upon you.”
Cowoh heeded not the warning. When they were passing a cloud she heard
a sound like the roaring of a waterfall and stuck out her head.
As quickly as thunder follows the lightning, they found themselves
again upon the earth. The stranger was angry, and, pulling out one of
the branches of a tree, put Cowoh in the hole, saying, “Here you shall
stay as long as the world shall last. People shall always hear you
crying in the wind.”
Taking the young girl, the youth flew up to heaven where the Almighty
One welcomed her as his son’s wife.
When the first son was born, the grandfather, the Great Spirit,
baptized him with water so he would have magic power. Then he put his
feet on the feet of the child. Immediately the baby grew and grew until
he was tall and straight like a young pine tree that grows on the
hillside. He named the child Left-Handed.
Four boys and two girls were born and in the same way the grandfather
endowed them each with magic power. He taught the boys how to use the
spear and bow and arrow and the girls how to nurse the sick. He taught
Left-Handed how to stick gamble until his skill was so great that none
could equal him.
Then the grandfather built in the heavens a Sun House which he gave to
Left-Handed. He built a Star House for the second boy. For the third
boy he built a Rainbow House and for the fourth boy a Sky House. Each
house had a round door. Within were blankets and food and rich robes of
fur.
Calling his four grandsons to him the Almighty One gave them a small
box “tsow” saying, “The time shall come when you will have to fight the
wicked, worldly people of the earth. Then take this box, open one end
of it and they will at once become as the dry leaves in autumn when the
wind crumbles them into dust.”
The Almighty One took the Sun House with the eldest boy and his sister
and dropped it upon the earth in the center of the deserted village of
Naha. Then he took the Moon, Star and Rainbow Houses and dropped them
down beside the Sun House.
In Tee-hi-ton the people heard a loud noise like a clap of thunder.
This they heard as many times as there are fingers on one hand.
The young people began to jeer, but the elders made them keep silent.
“It is nothing,” they said. “It is only Skanson the thunder bird
singing his war song.” So they wrapped themselves in their blankets and
went to sleep.
The next morning a thick fog hung over the creek so they could not see
the length of their canoe in front of them. But when the mist lifted
they shouted in amazement, for there among the ruins of the deserted
village were four houses, painted with strange figures such as they had
never seen before.
As they watched they saw young men and maidens going in and out of the
houses. Then they crowded together, asking each other fearfully, “Are
these the spirits of our enemies returned to punish us?”
After many days Wook-ya-koots, the keen-eyed, said, “I, Wook-ya-koots,
shall go alone to Naha to speak with the strangers and learn from
whence comes these lodges which glimmer in the dusk like the water when
we paddle idly along in the moonlight.”
The people waited eagerly for Wook-ya-koots’ return, but the sun was
high overhead before he appeared. Showing them a piece of meat he said,
“Look, this is real meat. The strangers are not spirits. They gave me
dried fish, the meat of the mountain sheep and berries to eat. They are
lonely and invite you to a great feast tonight.”
The feast lasted until the moon hid her face and the stars began to
fade from the sky. The next night Chief Yee-khoo and his braves came
again and for many nights after.
Then Left-Handed said, “Are there any stick gamblers among you?
Tomorrow you shall teach me how to stick gamble.”
The sun was slipping down behind the mountains when Chief Yee-khoo and
his people arrived, for in those days the salmon might leap in the
streams and the beavers build their dams unheeded while the Red Men
gambled away their blankets and food and even their canoes.