TALES.
Distinct from the myths, which relate to the gods, supernatural beings,
and natural phenomena, are the tales, from which must be gleaned hints
regarding the past hunter, warrior, and family life and history of the
Iroquois.
In time of peace, during the long winter evenings, among his group of
friends, the returned hunter narrated his achievements, or some famous
story-teller told of those days in the past when men and animals could
transform themselves at will and hold converse with one another. If
musical, the entertainer would relate ingenious fables, with songs
introduced, to give zest to the narration.
All these historical traditions, legends of war and hunting, fairy
tales, and fables have been handed down through the ages, kindling the
enthusiasm of the marvel-loving listener.
These story-tellers were gifted with such imaginative powers, and were
so free from the trammels of adapting their tales to any standard of
possibility, that no easy task lies before the careful student who seeks
to detect in them the scaffolding of truth around which so elaborate a
superstructure has been reared.
BOY RESCUED BY A BEAR.
From their close relations with wild animals Indians' stories of
transformations of men into beasts and beasts into men are numerous and
interesting. In nearly all of these, wherever the bear is introduced he
figures as a pattern of benevolence, while many other animals, such as
the porcupine, are always presented as noxious. One of these bear
stories, as told me on the Cattaraugus Reservation by a grandson of
Cornplanter, was as follows: A party of hunters, who were encamped a
long distance from home, discovered, as they were preparing to return,
that a young boy of their company was missing. After searching vainly
for several days they concluded that he had been killed, and sadly
departed without him. They were no sooner gone, however, than the lost
child, in an almost famishing condition, was discovered by a very
kind-hearted bear, who reasoned thus: "If I attempt to relieve the child
in my present form, he will surely be frightened to death. I will
therefore transform myself into a woman and take the boy home with me to
become a playmate for my little cubs." The boy was accordingly rescued
from starvation, and, living in the same hollow tree with the bear
family, fed with them upon nuts, corn, and berries. But when fall came,
and with it the return of the hunters, the good bear explained her
device to the boy, saying: "My cubs must now take care of themselves,
and you can rejoin your friends; but always feel kindly toward the bear
tribe"; upon which she resumed her proper shape and disappeared into the
woods. The boy never, even when grown, was known to kill a bear.
INFANT NURSED BY BEARS.
A man and his wife and child went off hunting from an Indian village and
encamped a long way from home. At first, good luck attended the hunter,
who brought into camp plenty of deer and other game. At last, game
became scarce, and day after day the hunter returned empty-handed and
famishing with hunger. Before leaving, the hunter resolved to try his
luck once more. Soon after he had left the camp his wife, in searching
for roots, found a hole in a large tree in which was a black bear. This
she succeeded in killing, and after cutting it up and cooking some for
herself and child she carefully secreted the remainder from her husband.
But the boy hid a piece for his father, who soon returned, very weary.
Then the hunter was enraged at the conduct of his wife, whom he forced
to eat of the meat until she died, with her little infant to which she
had given birth the same hour.
Then the hunter buried his wife and threw the infant into the hollow
tree. After this the hunter had better luck, and continued to live in
the same place with his little boy. In the course of time he found that
his little son must have had company, for little foot-prints were to be
seen around his wigwam. So he left a second small bow and arrow, which,
in time, he found had been used, and his son told him that a small boy
had been playing with him. The next day the father watched and saw a
little boy leave the tree where he had placed what he supposed to be the
dead child. Then he entered his home and said to the child, "You are my
child"; but the boy could not understand him, and was frightened and
uneasy, and ran away to the tree, where the hunter discovered he had
been nourished and cared for by a friendly bear. The hunter would not
kill the kind benefactor, but took some of the soft bed of dried bark,
to which the child had been accustomed, to his home, whereupon the child
was happy and contented to remain with his father and brother.
In time the two excelled in hunting and brought home owls and strange
birds. Finally, they told their father they were going to the far west
to kill the great beasts which were harming the human race. The hunter,
who perceived that the children were becoming very strange, was afraid
of them and consented. Then they bade him go back to his native home and
get three of the bravest warriors to follow them to the west, where the
warriors would find the carcasses of the animals which they would kill.
So he went home and told his story, and the warriors started out and
finally found traces of the boys, and in time found the carcasses of the
animals almost reduced to bones. Two of the men died of the stench.
THE MAN AND HIS STEP-SON.
This tale was narrated by a granddaughter of Brant.
A certain man had a step-son whom he hated. He devised all means of
getting rid of him. At last an idea struck him. He went out hunting very
often, and one day he saw a porcupine's hole. "The very thing," said he.
When he came home he called his step-son. "See here," said he, "I have
found a porcupine's nest. I want you to creep into the hole and catch
some of the young ones. Come, crawl in." The boy obeyed, and as soon as
his heels were in, the step-father closed up the hole and made him a
prisoner.
When he had found himself betrayed he cried and cried till he cried
himself asleep. When he awakened he found that he was in a room. He saw
an old woman walking around. She brought him something to eat, but it
was so bitter that he refused. Then she called many animals around her
to a council--wolves, bears, foxes, and deer. She told them that there
was a boy there who could not eat the food that she lived on, and asked
what they would advise to give which might support a human being? The
fox said, "I live on geese and fowls. I'll take him, but still he can't
eat raw food."
The council decided that it was useless for him to assume the charge.
Then the deer and each animal in turn told what they lived upon, but
none could offer proper food for a lad.
Last of all the bear spoke. "I live," said he, "on nuts, and he can live
with my young ones." So this was agreed to. All the animals promised to
assist in getting the nuts, and the boy was given over to the keeping of
the bear. He kept him for several years. One day the bear said, "A
hunter is coming; he means to chop down the tree."
True enough, next day a dog ran barking up, and the tree was cut down
and the old bear and two cubs were killed.
The hunter thought there might be still another cub, so he looked into
the tree. The boy made a noise just like the cubs. The hunter caught
him, and was so astonished at his appearance that, instead of killing
him, he took him to his wigwam, tamed him, and taught him to speak and
to grow up like a man. After some years he forgot he had lived like a
bear. He married a daughter of the hunter, but his mother-in-law was
always angry because he never brought home tender bear-meat. So at last
he went hunting and killed a bear, but on his return home he fell on a
sharp stick and was instantly killed.
THE BOY AND HIS GRANDMOTHER.
An old woman lived with her grandson in the wilderness. The boy amused
himself by shooting with his bow and arrows, and was very happy. His
grandmother cooked and cleaned. She talked much to him of the future and
the time when he should go out into the world. "Never, my grandson," she
would say, "never go west--go always to the east." And the boy wondered
very much at this, because, he said, all other boys went west, and they
found much game there. But he promised.
However, one day he asked his grandmother so often why she always
forbade him to go west, that she told him: "Far away in the west," said
she, "there lives one who waits to destroy us, and if he sees you he
will injure you and me. I warn you do not go that way." But the boy
questioned how and why, and thought to himself that on the first
opportunity he would see for himself. So he struck out for the west,
keeping a sharp lookout for the man, because his grandmother had taught
him he should always bow first.
As he neared the lake he heard the man's voice, but, although he looked
all around, he could see no one. The voice said: "Ah! ah! my little
fellow, I see you." Still he could see no one. "What shall I do now?"
thought he. Then the voice said, "What would you think if I sent a
hurricane to tear your grandmother's cabin all up?" The boy replied,
"Oh, I should like it. We have hard work to get wood. It would be a good
thing." And the voice replied, "You had better run home and see." So he
went home to his grandmother. As he neared his cabin he heard a great
noise, and his grandmother called to him, "Come in, come in; we shall be
blown away. You have disobeyed me; now we shall be destroyed. The
hurricane is upon us." But the boy only laughed and said, "We will throw
the house into a rock." And he turned it into a rock, and when the
hurricane was over they were unharmed, and found plenty of wood to burn.
Then said the boy, "Grandmother, we are all right." But the old woman
said, "Do not venture any more; next time he will destroy us." But the
lad thought he would try again. In the morning he started off east as
long as his grandmother could see him, then he turned to the west, and
kept a sharp watch right and left as he neared the pond.
Then, all at once, he heard the man's voice again. "What," it asked,
"would you say if a great hailstorm came down upon your mother's cabin,
with spears as sharp as needles?" "Oh," replied, the youngster, "I have
always wanted some spears; I would be glad of some." "You had better go
home and see," said the voice. So home he sped, hearing the gathering of
a great storm.
The grandmother said, "We are going to be destroyed with a hailstorm of
spears." But he laughed aloud and said, "I need spears for fishing; let
them come. We will turn the house into a rock again." And he did, and
when the storm was ended he and his grandmother came out and the ground
was covered with spears. "No matter," said he; "I will get poles and fit
them on for fishing"; but when he brought the pole he could not find any
spears. "How is this?" he asked. And his grandmother said, "They are
melted--they were ice."
The boy was very much disappointed and mourned aloud. "What can I do to
punish the old fellow?" he cried. "Heed my warning," said his
grandmother, "and leave him alone."
But the lad was determined. He started off once more, taking with him a
stone round his neck as a charm. He watched the direction in which he
had heard the voice, and all at once he saw in the middle of the lake a
great head, with a face on every side of it. He cried out, "Ha! ha!
uncle, I have you now. How should you like it if the lake dried up?"
"That it will never do," said the voice. "Go home," mocked the lad, "and
see!" And he threw the stone which he had. As it whirled through the air
it became very large and fell into the lake, when, at once, the water
began to boil.
Then the boy returned to his grandmother's cabin and told her all about
it. She said, "It has been tried again and again, but no one has ever
seen him before or has been able to hunt him."
Next morning he went over to the lake and found it all dried up and all
the animals dead, and only a large frog remained, into which the man had
been turned. So the boy killed the frog, and no more trouble ever came
to him or his grandmother.
THE DEAD HUNTER.
A man and his wife went hunting, and after a hard day's march they came
to an empty wigwam. So they entered and found in it a dead man, laid out
with his tomahawk and all his fine things. They found corn in plenty,
and the squaw made bread, and then they all went to bed, the man on one
side and the woman and her baby on the other. They placed some of the
bread between them, and in the middle of the night they heard a noise,
and the dead man was sitting up and eating. The hunter sprang up. "We
are all dead folks," cried he, "if we remain here"; so he made a
pretense, and whispered to the squaw, "You must go for water. I will
mind the child." As soon as she was gone, he pinched the baby till it
cried. "Oh," said he, "I must follow the mother or the child will die;
she is too long fetching the water." He hastened and soon caught up with
the woman, but behind him came the dead man, holding a lighted torch. To
save themselves they put the child down on the ground, and the hunter
seized his wife's hand and hurried her on faster and faster, but the
sound of steps behind them was plainer and plainer. So the man let his
wife go, and fled on by himself as hard as he could. Soon he came to a
hollow log, into which he crept. The steps came nearer and nearer,
until at last he felt the strokes of the dead man's hatchet, and heard
the dead man's voice saying, "Ah! you are here. I have caught you." Then
the dead man took a pole and tried to poke the hunter out of the hollow,
but he could not. At last his hatchet broke, and then the hunter heard
him say, "I must go; my night is coming on." So, after a while, the
hunter crept out of the hollow log and went after his wife and child,
and returned to the settlement and told all about it; and the chief sent
and burnt up the dead man's wigwam until it was nothing but ashes.
A HUNTER'S ADVENTURES.
This was told by Mr. Snow, Seneca Reservation:
A hunter far from home had expended all of his arrows, when he arrived
at a lake. He saw a great number of wild geese. Having been
unsuccessful, he now reflected upon the best means of capturing some of
these geese, and he finally concluded to pursue the following plan: He
procured a quantity of second-growth bass-wood bark, which he tore into
withes. These he fastened to his belt, then, swimming out into the lake,
he dove down under the floating flock and succeeded in tying a few of
the geese to his belt, whereupon the struggling geese, with their
companions, flew up into the air, carrying the hunter with them. While
unfastening a few of the tied ones, so that he might be let down to the
ground in a gradual manner, the whole of the captured ones broke away,
and the poor hunter fell into a tall and hollow stump, from which he
found it impossible to free himself.
He remained in this miserable prison nearly two days, when he with joy
heard a thumping sound upon the outside of the stump, and also the
voices of women choppers, who were cutting down the stump for wood, but
the cries of the man on the inside of the stump frightened the women so
much that they went away in search of aid to secure the game which they
supposed they had found in the stump.
The hunter was finally delivered safely from his perilous situation, and
he remained with his kind rescuers until he had again provided himself
with a large stock of arrows, when he started anew for a hunt farther to
the south. Having arrived at his destination, he built a lodge and had
excellent luck in killing large numbers of deer, bears, and other game,
the oil of which he carefully preserved in leathern bottles. When he
concluded to return to his home and friends he remembered his experience
in flying, so he prepared wings for himself, which wings he made from
thinly-dressed deer-skin. Taking his bottles of oil for ballast, he
started homeward, but as he passed over the lodges of the good women who
had rescued him, he threw down several bottles to these his good
friends, who to this day do not know from whence they came. After this
the flying hunter flew swiftly and safely to his home. His return to his
clan was announced by runners, and all assembled to listen to the
hunter's narration of his exploits and adventures.
THE OLD MAN'S LESSONS TO HIS NEPHEW.
A man and his nephew lived together in a solitary place. The old man one
day said to his nephew, "You are now a young man. You should be hunting
larger game--a bear or a deer--for our support." And he replied, "I will
go." Then the old man gave him the best bow and arrows, and in the
morning he departed. When he returned home he brought that which he had
killed--a deer--and thought himself lucky for a first attempt. "I should
like," he said to his uncle, "to go every day." Then the old man said,
"Now and again you may see a bear go up a tree; if you see a hole in the
tree and the marks of the bear's claws you can be sure of the bear."
So one day as the young man was out he saw a hole in a tree, and he saw
the claw marks of the bear, showing that he had gone up, so he returned
and told his uncle, and in the morning they started together. The old
man said, "I believe there is a bear inside now. Our plan is to knock
around the outside of the tree and make the bear uneasy; presently he
will come out." So they knocked, and the first thing they knew the bear
was sticking his head out of the hole. "Now," said the uncle, "I will
tell you when to shoot. If you will shoot just where there is no hair,
you will surely kill him." The young man saw that the paws were without
hair and he hit the bear on the fore-paw. "Shoot again," said the uncle.
So he shot the other paw. Then the old man pointed and said, "Shoot
here." And the nephew aimed and shot the point of his uncle's finger.
Then the old man's hand hurt him, so to direct his nephew he pursed out
his lips and pointed with them, and the young man shot through his lips.
Then the bear came down and made his way off, while the uncle was
explaining that his meaning had been to shoot under the fore legs. The
young man asked, "Why did you not say so?" Then they started home for
that day without game. "To-morrow morning," said the uncle, "watch, for
if you will look between the roots of the large trees you may find a
bear in that way."
Accordingly, the next day-the young man found a hole near the root of
the tree and saw a large bear inside. So he went home and asked his
uncle for instructions how to get at the bear. The old man began to
explain, but, unfortunately, in a way that he could not understand. He
went into the corn field, gathered the corn-stalks and stuck them around
the entrance to the hole, so that he surrounded the place where the bear
must come out. Then he knocked on the other side of the tree, and the
bear came out, as, of course, there was no reason why he should not, for
the stalks fell before him. The young man took his arms and went home.
Then the uncle asked what he had done, and he told. "You did not
understand," said the old man. "You should have shot him as he left the
den; first on one side then on the other." "After this," expostulated
the young man, "make your explanations clearer and do not give so many
illustrations. Had you told me this at first all would have been right."
One day the old man said, "I'm going to make a feast. You can invite the
guests. I cut sticks to represent so many friends. You invite them. Go
to the highest tree you can find and leave this stick there. Then go
along till you find a place all swamp--bad place, and leave one stick
there," &c.
So the nephew went around and used up the sticks and returned. "Have you
done as I said?" asked the old man. "Yes," said he. Yet when the day
came and the feast was ready, nobody came. "Why," asked the uncle, "has
nobody come?" "How," inquired the young man, "could the tall tree and
the swamp come here?" So they ate together, and then the young fellow
went off in the world to learn his lessons by experience, for he had
become tired of his uncle's parables.
THE HUNTER AND HIS FAITHLESS WIFE
Once on a time there was a man whose name was "Hemlock Bows." He used to
go hunting every day and always had good luck. He would kill so many
deer that he could not carry them all home. One day he killed thirty
deer. He was determined to carry them all home, so he took them and
shook them, and shook, and shook, till they were as small as squirrels,
and he carried them all home, and when he got there he shook, and shook,
and shook, till they were good-sized deer again. Sometimes when he
killed so many he would sit up all night to fix the skins on his wigwam
so he could make clothes for himself and his children. One day a boy was
born unto him; the father was very fond of him and he planted a few
hills of corn and beans, but they lived mostly on meat. After the child
was born the mother slept alone with it on the other side of the
fire-place.
After three years more a little girl was born. After the birth of her
second child the wife seemed to care no more for her husband. He was a
great worker. He had a large boxful of skins all dressed for his
children.
When the father went hunting the mother would call the boy and make him
go and bring her some water, and she would wash and dress up very fine
and take a long strap and an ax and leave the children alone all day
until almost time for the father to come home. Then she would hurry home
to cook for the man.
One night the little boy told his father all about his mother going away
every day. He felt very badly when he heard it, and at once resolved to
follow her the next day and find where she went. The next morning early
he left the cabin and went off. The woman soon sent the boy for some
water, and, after she had dressed, started with her ax and the long
strap which was used in drawing wood. She passed her husband on her way
but did not see him, but he tracked her very closely. Soon she came to a
large black-ash tree, which was hollow, and upon which she pounded with
her ax. A very nice-looking man came out of the tree to meet her. He
wore a turban filled with bright feathers. He went up to her and kissed
her, and seemed very much delighted to see her. Her husband was watching
them all the time, and when the man kissed her he drew his bow and arrow
and shot at the man, and the arrow went between him and the woman. She
was very angry, and took a club and beat her husband till he could not
see. Then she went home, put the boy and girl out in the cold and snow,
and then set fire to the cabin and burned it down and went off.
Soon the father came and found the children. He felt very badly when he
saw them, but he told the boy he must mind the dog, for he must go after
their mother. The dog fixed the boy and girl in a house in the snow, and
the next day they started on a long walk. While the boy was traveling
along with his little sister on his back she saw a flock of large white
turkeys, and she wanted one. The boy put her down and ran in the bushes
to find one for the little girl, but while he was after it a bear came
and carried off the little girl, and the dog followed after the bear.
The boy felt very bad. He cried and cried, and wished that he might die.
He tried to hang himself, but the strap broke. Then he jumped down a
steep place onto a lot of stones, but still he was unhurt. He traveled
on and soon came to a lake. He plunged into the water, but it was very
shallow. He walked a little way, when he saw a great fish coming towards
him with its great mouth wide open. Now, not far from this lake lived a
woman and her daughter. They had fences of osier fixed in the lake to
catch fish. In the morning the girl went out to see if there were any
fish caught, and she saw a very large one. They killed and dressed it,
and when they cut it up there they found the boy alive. They were very
glad to find the boy, and soon he told them all about himself and
family.
Some time after this they heard that the boy's mother was going to be
married to another man. The woman told the boy she thought he had better
go and kill the man and his mother. So they fixed him up and he went and
found them. There was a number of cabins and between two of them was a
long stick put up, and on it was an eagle, and the one that shot the
eagle was to marry the woman. She was very nicely dressed and sat on a
raised platform. He saw his father near her, looking very sick and sad.
The boy went around among the wigwams, and in one he found his sister
hanging to a crane in a chimney and near her the dog. He got his father,
sister, and dog away, and then went back and set fire to the cabin his
mother was in. It burned so fast that she could not get out and she
died. When her head cracked open it shook the ground, and out of the
ashes of his mother there rose up a screech owl. His father got well,
and they all went to live with the woman and her daughter. The old man
married the woman, and the boy the daughter, and so they were happy at
last.
THE CHARMED SUIT.
An old man brought up his son very quietly in a solitary place. As he
grew up, his father sent him daily into the woods and told him to listen
and come home and tell what he had heard. So the boy sat on a log and
waited to hear what might come. He heard a sound at last, "Ch-R-Ch," so
he ran to tell the old man and then thought he would wait till he heard
it again. The Ch-R-Ch was repeated, and he ran to his home and cried
out, "I have heard it! I have heard it!" "Wait! wait!" said the old man,
"till I get my pipe," and when he had lifted it he said, "Now, what did
you hear?" "Oh," replied the lad, "I heard Ch-R-Ch; twice it was
repeated." "That," said the father, "is not what I wanted you to hear;
that was only a snow-bird."
So the boy went, morning after morning, and heard various sounds from
snow-birds, wolves, owls, &c., but still never what the old man
expected. One day whilst he was listening he heard quite a new sound and
as the sun began to rise, it was like a voice singing. "That is
strange," said he, "I never heard that before." The song was like this:
Hă-hûm-weh
Hă-hûm-weh
Wă-he-dŭm-nä
Srû-guă he.
Hă hûm weh
Hă hûm weh.
Which means:
I belong to the wolf clan.
I belong to the wolf clan.
I am going to marry him,
I am going to marry him.
It was a sweet woman's voice. So the boy listened and said to himself,
"Surely this is the song." So he shouted for glee, and ran and fell near
the door, he was so excited. "Now," he cried, "I bring the news"; but
the father said, "Wait! wait! till I get my pipe." "Now," said he, as he
smoked, "tell me." So the boy began. "As I listened," said he, "I heard
a voice from the west, a woman's voice, so I turned and listened to it
singing":
Hă-hûm-weh
Wă-he-dûm-nä
Srû-guă-hi.
"Ah!" said the father, "that was what I was waiting for. The chief of a
distant village sends his two daughters to see us. Run half way back and
see if you can hear them again." So he went and heard again the same
song.
Hă-hûm-weh, &c.
He returned at once and told his uncle. "Now," said the old man, "they
are almost here. Sit down by the ashes." And he took the shovel and
threw ashes all over the boy's bed and put on him his best feathers and
astonished the boy very much by saying, "Do not look at the maidens when
they come in; they come to see me, not you; hold your head down while
they stay."
Then they heard the song:
Hă-hûm-weh.
Hă-hûm-weh.
Srû-guă-he.
The feathers were all on his head; still the old man repeated, "Now,
keep still."
Soon the maidens arrived and the old man opened the door. The younger of
the two carried a beautiful basket on her back; this she set down near
the old man. The boy looked around a little, and his father called out,
"Dirty boy; hold your head down." The visitors looked around and
thought, "What a place! what a place!" "Sit down, sit down," said the
old man to the visitors, but although they removed the blankets they
stood still. So he smoked on quietly.
When they saw how dirty it was where the boy sat they began to go around
and clear up, and as the evening passed the lad did not know what to do
with himself. They fixed themselves a clean bed on the other side of the
wigwam. They refused to sit by the old man, and when at last the boy
went to sleep they lifted him out of his dirty bed, strewn with ashes,
and put him into their clean bed.
In the morning the younger one admired him and said, "What a beautiful
young man!" Then they said, "We had better cook something." So they
cooked corn and rice, and the boy ate with them, and the old father
smoked. After a while he said, "Good woman; can clean up, can cook, can
make good wife." Then he let the boy look up. The younger visitor sang
again:
Hă-hûm-weh.
Hă-hûm-weh.
So the old man smoked his pipe and the sisters went back to their
people. Then the two lived quietly together, but the young man often
thought of the beautiful maidens.
One day as they were conversing the old man said, "Now you have become a
young man you must go." "Which way," asked he, and the uncle replied,
"You must go where those young maidens are who are chief's daughters.
You must have fine bows and arrows; here they are--try them before you
go. They give luck in hunting." Then he looked where he kept all the
fine things for the young warriors and dressed him up well with a swan
stuffed. "Now," said he, "when you take this outside it will be on your
head, but it will soon come back to life, and when that happens you must
run in a circle and return, and you will see that many deer and bears
will follow your track." So off he went. When he returned he said that
so many bears and so many deer came out every time as he crossed the
track and he shot them, and took the best out and sent them home to show
them to the old man. And all the time the swan was alive and beautiful.
The old man exclaimed at his luck as he told his tale. "You have done
well," said his uncle. "We must save all the meat. Now, hold yourself
ready to go to-morrow. I warn you there are dangers in your path. There
is a stream that you must cross. There stands a man and he will try to
kill you. He will call out to you that he has a couple of wild cats and
will say, 'My friend, come, help me kill these.' Pay no attention; go
right on along, or you will be in danger and never get to the town." The
nephew promised to obey, and his uncle brought out a curious thing, made
of colored string and elk hair of deep red, about a foot long. "I shall
keep this by me," said he, "and so long as you are doing well it will
hang as it is; but if you are in danger it will come down itself almost
to the ground, and if it does reach the ground you will die." "I will be
careful," said the young man, and so he started with his directions,
following his uncle's advice. He had almost reached his destination when
he heard a noise, and there in his path stood a man while he watched two
animals going up a tree, and he tried in vain to make them come down. As
the young man approached him he said, "Please help me, if you can; but
kill one of these animals; it will be a good thing. Do help me." So he
begged, and the young man thought it could do no harm, so he took out
his arrow and said, "Don't be in a hurry." Then the old man handed him
the arrows and asked him, "Where are you going?" and he told him; and
the stranger said, "Stop all night with me; that is a long way you are
going; go on to-morrow."
Now the uncle at home was watching the signal. He saw it go down almost
to the ground, and he cried out in his alarm, "Oh! oh! my nephew is in
danger, he will get into trouble with that old man." But the young man
listened to the persuasions of the tempter and agreed to remain with him
all night, and the old man made up a fire and began to tell stories as
they sat beside it till the youth fell asleep. Before they sat down he
had gathered together some sharp prickly bark, pretending it gave a good
light, and as the young man slept he said to himself, "Now, I can fix
him." So he took some of the sharp-pointed bark and placed it on him; so
he writhed in agony. Then he took off the young man's handsome clothes
and dressed him up instead in his own old rags, dirty and rotten. "I
shall keep these things," said he; "they are mine," and forthwith he
started off to the chief's house where the beautiful women were, and he
had the young man's pipe and his spotted deer skin, and the handsome bag
made out of it, with little birds to light the pipe. When he reached
the chief's cabin he went in and the younger sister was there. She was
so disappointed when she saw him, she said, "This cannot be the young
man." But her elder sister said: "Yes, it is he. He has the fine clothes
and the deer skin, and the deer-skin bag, and the little birds to light
his pipe." But still the younger sister was disappointed, and then the
people heard that the young man they expected had come from the east and
many came to see him and watched all his movements. At length he got his
pipe, which, when it was filled, the two little birds were expected to
light, but they would not for a stranger, so he said it was because
there were people all around, and he must be alone. The older sister
believed him. Then he told her, too: "When I spit it makes wampum, so
spread out a deer skin and save my spittle." So he spat many times and
she did as he said and saved it up, but it never became wampum, although
he did it every night. Each day he went hunting, but he killed only
things not good to eat, and made the older sister, who became his wife,
cook them. The younger one, however, would never go near him. Even when
he commanded the little spotted deer-skin bag to stand up she observed
that it did not obey him.
One day she went out to the fields to husk corn, and as she finished her
task she observed a man near a fire in the field. She drew near. He was
fast asleep. She gazed at his face and recognized the beautiful young
man, but how greatly changed! She stood for a while looking at him till
he awakened. "Who are you?" she asked; "whence do you come? where are
you going?" "I come," said he, "from the far east; I came only last
evening." And he related his story, and told how nicely he had been
started by his uncle, until she was quite satisfied of the truth of his
story. She did not tell him she was the daughter of the chief whom he
sought, but she went home and fetched food for him. She laid meat and
drink before him, and while he ate she returned to her task of husking
corn. Then she went home. The old fellow meanwhile had asked often,
"Where is the young sister? Why does she never come to see me, or sit
near whilst I smoke my pipe? May be she has found for herself a sickly
man out in the field."
At last the younger sister told the young man who she was, and that the
old man that had robbed him was in the chief's cabin and had all his
fine things; and the young man felt better, and said, "I want my things
back. I will make a dream. Go and tell the chief, your father, that I
have dreamed a dream and all the people must come to hear it, and I will
tell how all the things the old man has are mine, and then the birds
will obey, and all the things will come alive again."
Then the old chief listened to the entreaties of his youngest daughter,
and called a great council and the young man told his story in the form
of a dream, and when he spoke of the birds they came and filled his
pipe, and the swan skin when placed upon his head also came to life, and
his spittle became wampum. So the chief knew he was the rightful owner
of the clothes and they were returned to him, and the impostor was
obliged to resume his old rags. The young man was then married to the
faithful maiden, and returned to his home in safety, where he became in
time a noted chief.
THE BOY AND THE CORN.
An old man brought up his nephew in a solitary place. One day as they
walked through the field the uncle picked an ear of corn, but he did not
eat it. "Strange," thought the boy, "that I never see him eating
anything;" and he watched him when the old man thought he was asleep. He
saw him go to a hole and take out a kettle and a few grains of corn,
which he put into it. Then he took a magic wand and tapped the kettle
till it grew big; then he ate some corn and again tapped the kettle till
it became small once more.
In the morning when the uncle left home the boy got at the hole and did
as he had seen him do, but as he tapped the kettle it grew so large that
he could not stop it, and it went on growing until his uncle came home,
who was very angry. "You do not know what harm you have been doing,"
said he; "we can get no more corn; it grows in a place that is so
dangerous that few who go there come back alive." "We have plenty in the
house," said the boy. "And when it is gone, what then?" But the boy
persisted that he knew where the corn grew, and could easily fetch some.
"So, uncle," he added, "tell me how to proceed," "I shall never see you
again," moaned the uncle. "Oh, yes, you will," said the boy, and he
started. Now, the uncle had warned him that he would come to a lake
where the woman witches lived, and that he never could escape them. But
he made himself a canoe and picked some peculiar nuts and launched
himself upon the water. Then he threw the nuts before him to feed the
fowls who guarded the shore, that they might not betray his coming. He
landed on the other side safely and filled his pockets with corn, and
was hastening to put off in his boat, but before he did so was curious
to know what was in a lodge on the shore. So he peeped in and stole a
bear's leg which he saw.
Now, all his nuts were gone; so when he passed the birds they were
alarmed and set up their call and out came the witches with their hooks
and cords. But he launched his canoe, and when a hook reached him he
broke it off, and reached the opposite shore in safety. There he saw a
number of ducks, and he stripped a tree of its bark and caught them and
started home. As he neared his home he heard his uncle singing a
dirge--"My poor nephew, I shall never see him again." The animals had
been telling the old man sad tales of his death, so when the boy knocked
at the door he did not believe that it was his nephew. But the boy heard
the Hi-Wadi, and he knew his uncle. So he said, "Uncle, I am coming, I
am coming; stop your mourning." His uncle thought it was an animal on
the outside, and he called out, "Put your hand through the hole." So the
nephew put his hand through and caught hold of the rope and pulled it
out and tied it to a post, and then opened the door. And when the old
man saw his nephew he called out, "So you have got home safe; where have
you been?" and he made many inquiries. And the young man explained
everything to him, and told how, at last, he had returned safely to his
home with plenty of corn.
THE LAD AND THE CHESTNUTS.
This is another version of the foregoing tale:
A man lived with his younger brother alone in the deep wilderness. Game
was plentiful--very plentiful. The elder brother hunted it; the younger
staid home to gather sticks and build the fire against the hunter's
return. When he came, bringing deer, the younger one said, "I will cook
the venison; give it to me to prepare for supper." The elder one
replied, "I will smoke before I eat." When he had smoked he went to lie
down. "I should think," said the younger, "you would want to eat now."
But no, he slept instead of tasting the food, and when he awakened he
bade his brother go to bed, and leave him to help himself.
The lad wondered, but he obeyed. Still he found the same thing happened
every day. In the mornings the elder brother left without eating; in the
evenings he bade the boy leave him alone. This awakened the curiosity of
the younger. "I will watch," said he; and he watched. "He must eat
something," he added to himself, "or he would die. He must eat at
night." So he pretended to take no notice. At bedtime he lay down and
made believe to sleep, but he kept one eye open, although he seemed to
be sound asleep.
After a while the elder brother rose and opened a trap-door, and, when
below the ground, he began to make strange motions, and presently drew
out a kettle and commenced scraping it on the bottom. Then he poured
water onto it, and at last he took a whip and struck the kettle, saying,
as he placed it over the burning wood, "Now, my kettle will grow
larger"; and as he struck it, it became bigger with every blow; and at
length it was very large, and he set it to cool, and began greedily to
eat the contents. "Ah," thought the younger brother, as he watched,
"now, to-morrow, I will find out what he eats;" and he went to sleep
content.
At daylight the elder set off to hunt. Now was the opportunity.
Cautiously the boy lifted the trap-door, and there he at once saw the
kettle. In it lay half a chestnut. "Now I know," said he, "what my
brother eats;" and he thought to himself, "I will fix it all ready for
him before he comes back." As night drew on he took the kettle and
scraped up the chestnut, put in some water, and found the stick. He at
once commenced whipping the kettle as he had seen his brother do,
saying, "Now my kettle will grow large;" and it did; but it kept on
growing larger and larger, to his surprise, until it filled the whole
room, and he had to go up on the roof to stir it from the outside.
When the elder brother returned he said, "What are you doing?" "I found
the kettle," replied the younger, "and was getting your supper." "Woe is
me," said the elder, "now I must die." He struck and struck the kettle,
and reduced it by every blow, until at last he could restore it to its
place. But he was sorrowful. When morning came he would not get up, nor
eat of the venison, but asked for his pipe and smoked.
Day by day passed. He grew weaker each day, and after each smoke sang,
"Hah geh-he geh, Non ta ge je õ dah!" "Bring me my pipe and let me die."
The younger lad was very anxious. "Where," he asked his brother, "did
you get the chestnuts? Let me go and seek some for you." After many
questions at length the brother said, "Far, far away is a large river,
which it is almost impossible to cross. On the further side, at a great
distance, stands a house; near it is a tree, a chestnut tree; there my
forefathers gathered chestnuts long ago, but now none can reach it, for
there stands night and day a white heron watching the tree and looking
around on every side. He is set there by the women folks; half a dozen
of them take care of him, and for them he watches. If he hears a sound
he makes his Thr-hr-hr. Then the women come out with war-clubs and are
always on their guard lest any one should gather the chestnuts, as many
fall on the ground. Even a mouse is suspected of being a man. There is
no chance, no chance at all." But the brother said, "I must go and try
this for your sake; I cannot have you die."
So he departed on his way, after he had made a little canoe about three
inches long. He walked on and on, day and night, until at last he
reached the river. Then he took out of his pouch his little canoe, and
drew it out and out until it was a good size, and in it he crossed the
river. Then he made it small again and put it in his pouch. On and on he
walked until he could see the house, and before it the chestnut tree.
Then he called a mole out of the ground. The mole came and sniffed
around a little plant, the seed of which the heron dearly likes. It is
like a bean. Some of these seeds the young lad took and then followed
the mole to its hole, and crept under the leaves until he neared the
heron. Then he threw the seeds to the bird. The heron saw them and began
eating them. Whilst he was occupied and noticed nothing else, the boy
filled his bag with chestnuts and set off homewards; but now the heron,
no longer occupied with his oh ôñ hi, suspected danger and gave his
warning Thr-hr-hr. But the lad was already far away near the great
river. Once more he took out his canoe, and was on the water when the
women rushed out. They threw a long fish line and caught his canoe to
pull him in, but he cut it and got loose. Again the second threw a line
and caught him, but again he cut loose, and so on till they had no lines
left. So he reached home at length, fearful lest he should find that his
brother had died during his absence, but he found him still barely
alive, and shouted, "Now, brother, I'm home with the chestnuts, will you
have your pipe?" And he began cooking just as his brother liked them,
and he narrated all his exploits, and the brother said, "You have done
me a great favor, now I shall be well, and we will be happy."
THE GUILTY HUNTERS.
There was a certain tribe whose main occupation was to hunt and to fish.
In one of its hunting excursions two families of different clans of this
tribe happened to pitch their respective camps quite near to each other.
One of these families, in which there was an infant, had very fine luck
and the other poor luck. While the father of the child was out hunting,
the mother went to a neighboring stream to get some water, but before
she dipped her vessel she looked into the water and saw, peering up
through the sparkling stream, a very handsome young man with painted
cheeks. When her husband returned she told him what she had seen, and,
after a consultation, they came to the conclusion that something strange
was about to happen, for what the woman had seen was but the reflection
of some one hidden in the branches overhanging the stream. They rightly
judged that this was an evil omen, and naturally knew that something
must be done to avert the impending misfortune, for the woman said that
she recognized the face as that of a man from the adjoining camp.
When night came the husband said to his wife, "You and the child must be
saved. Go; I shall meet misfortune alone." She then started with the
child through the forest, and went on until she came to a hollow log,
into which she crept, and then she heard a great noise in the camp, and
a voice saying, "You have bitten me." Soon she saw the light of torches
borne by people searching for her and the child; nearer and nearer they
came, until they reached the log (her hiding-place), into which they
pushed their sticks, but the woman remained quiet, and heard them say,
"She must be somewhere near here; any way, she cannot live long." She
waited until they had left and all was quiet before she emerged from her
refuge, and then traveled on as fast as she could until morning, when
she came upon a trail, to which, instead of following it, she took a
parallel course, and did not see any signs of life until she came to an
opening, which appeared like a camping-ground. In the center of this
clearing stood a large hemlock tree, into which she climbed, and made
herself and child as comfortable as she could.
Soon after ascending the tree she heard approaching voices, one of which
said, "We might as well stay here as to go further." They were hunters,
heavily laden with skins, meat, &c. During the night one of them said,
"My thumb is painful; what shall I say bit me?" The woman heard the
answer: "Say a beaver bit you."
In the early dawn the men departed and the woman began to make her way
down the tree, but she saw one of the party returning, so she remained
until he, finding his bow, again started homeward. When all were out of
sight she brought her child down, and, taking again the course parallel
to the trail, she hurried onward during the day and reached home just at
twilight. When once home she related what had happened to herself,
child, and husband, to her many friends who secreted her, and made
preparations to have the matter investigated. The head chief was
informed, and he sent out "runners" to all the members of the tribe to
call them to a general council.
When the time for all to assemble had come, none but the hunters were
absent, and they came after repeated and persistent requests to be
present. When they did come the head chief said, "We have come to
congratulate you in that you have prospered and been preserved from
harm. Now, relate to us all the things that have happened to you and
tell why you have returned without the other party." The hunters refused
to tell anything about their affairs and pretended to know nothing about
the other party.
The head chief, after severely cross-examining them, ordered that the
woman be brought forth to tell her story. When she had finished her
narrative of facts, as stated above, she told that one of them had his
thumb bitten, explaining that he was bitten by her husband in defending
himself against these robbers, who took from her murdered husband the
skins and the meats which they had brought home. Hereupon the head chief
gravely said to the waiting and impatient warriors, "Go, do your duty;"
and they, with their war-clubs and tomahawks, soon put to death the
wicked hunters.
MRS. LOGAN'S STORY.
An old man and his little nephew once lived in a dark woods. One day the
man went hunting, and just before leaving told the boy he must not go
eastward. But the boy became tired of playing in one place, and was one
day tempted to go in the forbidden direction until he came to a large
lake, where he stopped to play. While thus engaged a man came up to him
and said, "Well, boy, where do you come from?" The boy told him that he
came from the woods. Then the man said, "Let us play together at
shooting arrows." So they shot off their arrows up into the air, and the
boy's arrow went much the higher. Then the man said, "Let us see which
can swim the farthest without breathing," and again the boy beat the
man. Then the latter said, "Let us go to the island, where you will see
many pretty birds." So they entered the canoe. Now, on either side of
the canoe were three swans which propelled it. As soon as they were
seated in the canoe the man began singing, and very soon they arrived at
the island, around which they traveled for some time, and then the man
took off all the boy's clothes, and, jumping into his canoe, said,
"Come, swans, let us go home," and he began to sing. When the boy
perceived that he was deserted he went up the bank and sat down and
cried, for he was naked and cold.
It began to grow dark very fast, and he was greatly frightened when he
heard a voice say, "Hist! keep still," and, looking around, he saw a
skeleton on the ground near him, which beckoned him and said, "Poor boy,
it was the same thing with me, but I will help you if you will do
something for me." The boy readily consented. Then the skeleton told him
to go to a tree near by, and dig on the west side of it, and he would
find a tobacco-pouch full of tobacco, a pipe, and a flint; and the boy
found them and brought them to the skeleton. It then said, "Fill the
pipe and light it;" and he did so. "Put it in my mouth," said the
skeleton; and he did so. Then, as the skeleton smoked, the boy saw that
its body was full of mice, which went away because of the smoke. Then
the skeleton felt better, and told the boy that a man with three dogs
was coming to the island that night to kill him, and in order to escape
he must run all over the island and jump into the water and out again
many times, so that the man would lose the trail. Then, after tracking
the island all over, he must get into a hollow tree near by, and stay
all night. So the boy tracked the island all over and jumped into the
water many times, and at last went into the tree. In the early morning
he heard a canoe come ashore, and, looking out, saw another man with
three dogs, to whom the man said, "My dogs, you must catch this animal."
Then they ran all over the island, but not finding him, the man became
so angry that he killed one of the dogs and ate him all up. Then, taking
the two remaining, he went away. The boy then came out from his
hiding-place, and went to the skeleton, who said, "Are you still alive?"
The boy replied, "Yes." "Well," said the skeleton, "the man who brought
you here will come to-night to drink your blood, and you must go down to
the shore where he will come in, and dig a long pit and lie down in it
and cover yourself up with the sand so he cannot see you, and when he
comes ashore and is off, you must get into the canoe and say, 'Come,
swans, let's go home,' and if the man calls for you to come back you
must not turn around or look at him."
The boy promised to obey and soon the man who had brought him came
ashore on the island. Then the boy jumped into the canoe, saying,
"Come, swans, let's go to our place;" and as they went he sang just as
the man had done. They had gone but a little way when the man saw them.
He began to cry, "Come back! Oh do come back!" but the boy did not look
around and they kept on their way. By and by they came to a large rock
in which there was a hole, and the swans went up into the rock until
they came to a door which the boy proceeded to open. Upon entering the
cave he found his own clothes and many others, and also a fire and food
all prepared, but no living person. After putting on his clothes he went
to sleep for the night. In the morning he found a fire and food, but saw
no one.
Upon leaving the cave he found the swans still waiting at the entrance,
and, jumping into the canoe, he said, "Come, swans, let's go to the
island." When he arrived there he found the man had been killed and
nearly eaten up. He then went to the skeleton, which said, "You are a
very smart boy; now you must go and get your sister whom this man
carried off many years ago. You must start to-night and go east, and by
and by you will come to some very high rocks where she goes for water,
and you will find her there and she will tell you what to do."
The boy started and in three days arrived at the rocks, where he found
his sister, to whom he called, "Sister, come, go home with me"; but she
replied, "No, dear brother, I cannot go; a bad man keeps me here, and
you must go, for he will kill you if he finds you here." But as the boy
would not be persuaded to leave without her she allowed him to stay. Now
this very bad man had gone to a great swamp where women and children
were picking cranberries. The sister then went to the house and, taking
up the planks over which her bed was made, she dug a pit underneath it
sufficiently large for her brother to sit in; then she went to her
brother and bade him follow her, and to be sure and step in her tracks
and not touch anything with his hands or his clothes. So she covered him
up in the pit she had prepared for him, and made her bed up again over
the place. She then cooked a little boy for the man, put it with wood
and water by his bed, and then went and lay down. Soon the man and dogs
returned; then immediately the dogs began barking and tearing around as
if they were mad. The man said, "You surely have visitors"; she replied,
"None but you." And he said, "I know better"; and he took a stick and
commanded her to tell him the truth, but she denied it, saying, "Kill me
if you like, but I have none." He then went to his bed and sat down to
eat his supper; but he said to himself, "She has some one hidden; I will
kill him in the morning." He then called her to build a fire, but she
replied, "You have wood, build your own fire." Then he said, "Come, take
off my moccasins"; but she replied, "I am tired, take them off
yourself." Then he said to himself, "Now I know she has seen some one,
for she was never so saucy."
In the morning he started off for the swamp to get some children for his
dinner. A short distance from home he concealed himself to watch the
girl. As soon as he was gone she called her brother and said, "Come,
let us take his canoe and go quickly." So they ran and jumped into the
canoe and went off, but the man saw them and ran, throwing a hook which
caught the canoe, but as he was pulling it ashore the boy took a stone
from the bottom of the canoe and broke the hook. Then they proceeded
again very fast. Then the enraged man resorted to another expedient:
Laying himself down upon the shore he began to drink the water from the
lake, which caused the boat to return very fast. The man continued to
drink, until he grew very big with so much water in him. The boy took
another stone and threw it and hit the man so it killed him, and the
water ran back into the lake. When they saw that he was dead they went
back, and the boy said to the two dogs, "You bad dogs, no one will have
you now; You must go into the woods and be wolves"; and they started for
the woods and became wolves.
Then the boy and his sister went to the island. The boy went to the
skeleton, which said, "You are a very smart boy to have recovered your
sister--bring her to me." This the boy did, and the skeleton continued,
"Now, gather up all the bones you see and put them in a pile; then push
the largest tree you see and say, 'All dead folks arise'; and they will
all arise." The boy did so, and all the dead arose, some having but one
arm, some with but one leg, but all had their bows and arrows.
The boy then said to his sister, "Come, let's go home." When they
arrived home they found their own uncle; he looked very old. For ten
years he had cried and put ashes upon his head for his little nephew,
but now he was very happy to think he had returned.
The boy then told the old man all that he had done, who said, "Let us
build a long house." And they did so, and put in six fire-places. Then
the boy went back to the island for his people and brought them to the
house, where they lived peacefully many years.
THE HUNTER AND HIS DEAD WIFE.
Once upon a time there was a man and his wife who lived in the forest,
very far from the rest of the tribe. They used to go hunting together
very often, but after a time there were so many things for the wife to
do that she staid at home and he went alone. When he went alone he never
had good luck. One day the woman was taken sick, and in a day or two she
died. The man felt very badly and buried her in the cabin. He was very
lonesome; and after a day or two he made a wooden doll about her size
and dressed it in the clothes she used to wear. Then he put it down in
front of the fire-place and felt better. Then he went hunting; and when
he came back he would go up to the doll and brush the ashes off from the
face, for as the wood fell down the ashes would rattle onto the face. He
had to do his cooking, mending, and making fire, for now there was no
one to help him; and so a year passed away. One day when he came home
from hunting there was a fire and wood by the door. The next night there
was wood and fire and a piece of meat all cooked in the kettle. He
looked, all over to see who had done this, but could find no one. The
next time he went hunting he did not go far and went back quite early,
and when he came in sight of the cabin he saw a woman going into the
house with wood on her shoulders; he saw, and opened the door quickly,
and there was his wife sitting in a chair and the wooden doll was gone.
Then she spoke to him, saying, "The Great Spirit felt sorry for you, so
he let me come back to see you, but you must not touch me till we have
seen all of our people; if you do, you will kill me." So they lived
along for some time, when one day the man said, "It is now two years
since you died. Let us go home. So you will be well." So he prepared
meat for the journey--a string of deer meat for her to carry and one for
himself; and so they started. It was going to take them six days to get
to the rest of their tribe; when they were within a day's journey of the
camp it began to snow, and as they were very weary they lighted fire and
partook of food and spread their skins to sleep; but the desire of the
man to once more clasp his wife in his arms was too great, and he went
up to her and put out his hands; but she motioned him away and said, "We
have seen no one yet." He would not listen to her, and he caught her in
his arms, and, behold, he was holding the wooden doll! His sorrow was
very great. He pushed on to the camp and there he told them all that had
befallen him. Some doubted, and they went back with him and found the
doll; they also saw the track of the two people in the snow, and the
track just like the foot of the doll. The man was ever after very
unhappy.
A SURE REVENGE.
Far in the ages of the past, a tribe of the Senecas settled upon the
banks of Lake Erie. One eventful winter their enemies, the Illinois,
came in great numbers upon the peaceful settlement, surprised the people
in their homes, and, in spite of a stout resistance, killed a large
number of them and took a middle-aged woman and a boy captive. They
started off with the prisoners, and the first day's journey was one of
pain and restlessness to the captives. They were foot-sore and weary
when camp was pitched for the night. Then around a roaring fire the
warriors gloated over the bloody deed. They called the boy and bid him
join them in their songs of triumph, adding that they had no desire to
hurt him; if he sang well he might enjoy himself. The lad pretended that
he could not sing their language, but said that he would sing their song
in his tongue, knowing that they could not comprehend a word of it. To
this they agreed, and while they shouted out their jubilant delight he
repeated, again and again, "I shall never forget what you have done to
my people. You have stolen a helpless woman and a little boy from among
them. I shall never forget it. If I am spared you will all lose your
scalps." The Illinois warriors understood not a word; they thought he
was joining in their triumph, and were satisfied that he would soon
forget his own people.
After they had marched three days the woman became exhausted, and she
was too faint to be dragged further. The warriors held a council, and
she meanwhile spoke to the Seneca boy in earnest tones. "Avenge my
blood!" said she; "and when you return to your own people tell them how
the cruel Illinois took my life. Promise me you will never cease to be a
Seneca." As he finished promising all she asked, she was slain and left
dead on the ground.
Then they hurried forward, nearing their own settlement early in the
evening. Next day two runners were sent to the village to proclaim their
success and return, and all the population turned out with shouts and
cries of joy to meet them.
Now the fate of the boy had to be determined. He listened as the chief,
with exaggerated gestures and exclamations, gave an account of the
successful expedition. The people, as they listened, grew so excited
that they beat the ground with their clubs and wished they could
exterminate every Seneca in the world. They longed to kill the boy, but
the chiefs held a council and decided that there was stuff in him, and
they would therefore torture him, and if he stood the test, adopt him
into their own tribe. The boy meantime had dreamed a dream, in which he
had been forewarned that the Illinois would inflict horrible tortures
upon him. "If he can live through our tortures," said the chief, "he
shall become an Illinois." The council fire glowed red with burning
heat. They seized the captive and held him barefooted on the coals until
his feet were one mass of blisters. Then they pierced the blisters with
a needle made of fish bone and filled up the blisters with sharp flint
stones. "Now run a race," they recommended; "run twenty rods." In his
dream he had been told that if he could reach the Long House and find a
seat on the wild-cat skin, they would vote him worthy of his life. His
agony was intense, but up in his heart rose the memory of his tribe; and
as the signal for his start was given he commenced singing with all his
might, saying, as they thought, their war song, but in reality the
words: "I shall never forget this; never forgive your cruelty. If I am
spared you shall every one of you lose your scalps." This gave him
courage. He forgot his agony. He bounded forward and flew so swiftly
that the Indians, who stood in rows ready to hit him as he passed with
thorn-brier branches, could not touch him. He rushed into the Long
House; it was crowded, but he spied a wild-cat skin on which an old
warrior sat, and he managed to seat himself upon the tail, remembering
his dream. The chiefs noticed his endurance and said again, "If we spare
his life he will be worthy to become an Illinois; but he knows the
trail, so we had better kill him."
A solemn council was held. All the warriors agreed that he had borne the
tortures well, and had stuff in him to make a warrior. "He may forget,"
they said. Still others disagreed and gave their opinion that he ought
to be tried still more severely. The majority finally decided that he
must die, and in three days should be burned at the stake.
When the day arrived a large fire of pine knots was prepared, and they
bound the lad to a stake, and placed him in the midst. Torches were
ready to set fire to them, when an old warrior suddenly approached from
the forest. It was the chief who had trained other captive Indians. He
stood and looked at the boy. Then he said, "His eye is bright. I will
take him. I will make a warrior of him. I will inflict our last torture
upon him, and if he survives I will adopt him into the tribe." He cut
the thongs that bound the boy, and led him away to a spring. "Drink!" he
said. And as the lad stooped, he pressed him down under the water until
he was well nigh strangled. Three times he subjected him to this
barbarity; then as he was still alive, although very weak, he took him
to his wigwam and dressed his feet, and told him henceforth he should be
an Illinois. No one guessed that revenge was in his heart.
Time passed. He became a man. He had a chief's daughter as his wife. The
tribe thought he had lost all memory of his capture. He followed the
customs of the Illinois, and was as one of them. He was named
Ga-geh-djo-wă. They did not permit him to join them in their warlike
expeditions, but he joined in their war dances when they returned. And
so as the years passed on he was much esteemed for his feats as a
hunter, and his strength and endurance were by-words among the Illinois.
He had been fifteen years among them when he heard them speak of an
expedition against the Senecas. He begged to join, and they listened
with delight when he declared that he, Ga-geh-djo-wă, would bring
home more scalps than any. "He is one of us," they said, and gave him
the permission he craved.
Early in the morning the warriors started, and, delighted with his
eloquence and readiness to go against his own tribe, they elected him
chief of the expedition. They marched on and on for many days, little
guessing how his heart beat as they approached the wigwams of the Seneca
settlement. He began to issue orders for the attack. "Send scouts," he
said, "to the sugar camp, and let them hide in a bush, and return and
tell us what they have seen."
Two warriors obeyed his directions, but returned saying there were no
signs of the tribe. Then he sent others in a different direction. Their
report was the same. Ashes everywhere, they reported, but no smoke and
no fires. The Senecas must have left. Then at the council held that
night Ga-geh-djo-wă proposed to go himself, with another warrior.
This was agreed to, and they set out together. When they had gone five
or six miles, the wily chief said to his companion, "Let us separate and
each take a different pathway. You go over the hills; I will go
through, the valley. We will meet on the mountain at dusk." So they
parted, and Ga-geh-djo-wă, remembering his way, sped where he guessed
he should find some of his old tribe. He found, as he expected, a family
he knew. In hurried words he explained to them their danger: "The
treacherous Illinois are upon you. Warn all the tribe of Senecas: bid
them come early and hide along the range above the valley. I will be
there with a heron's plume on my crest, and when I stumble it is the
signal for the Senecas to attack. Go and tell the word of
Ga-geh-djo-wă. He is true."
Returning to the appointed spot he reported that he had seen nothing,
and hastened back to the camp. Then he said: "I remember these hills. I
know where the Senecas hide. Give me the bravest warriors and we will go
ahead. I can track them to their hiding-place. See! there below rises
the smoke of their wigwams. Send two warriors after us at a short
distance. We will surprise the Senecas."
Early morning saw the camp in activity, every warrior panting for the
scalps he yearned to procure. Little they dreamed that already five
hundred Senecas awaited them in the valley. The march commenced. As they
entered the valley Ga-geh-djo-wă gazed anxiously around and
delightedly caught sight of a face among the bushes. Now he knew the
Senecas had heeded him. He led his men forward; then, pretending to miss
his footing, he fell. Instantly the war-cry sounded; the Senecas rushed
from their ambush, and he left his treacherous foes and rejoined his own
people.
The slaughter was great. All the Illinois warriors but two in the rear
were slain. Three hundred scalps revenged the treachery of the Illinois.
Ga-geh-djo-wă was seized by the jubilant Senecas and borne in triumph
to their settlement. Around the fires, as they displayed the scalps of
their enemies, they listened to his recital of their cruelty, of his
tortures, and of the woman's death. Never again did he leave them. He
lived many years, the most esteemed warrior and chief of the Senecas,
and when he died they buried him with the highest honors they knew, and
have kept his name sacred in the legends of the tribe to this day.
TRAVELER'S JOKES.
An Indian traveler, tired of his uneventful journey, undertook to create
an excitement after the following fashion: An old Indian custom is for
runners, or those carrying important news, to announce the fact and
gather the people together by crying, in singing tones, "Goh-weh,
goh-weh." This the traveler began doing, and when the crowd called upon
him to stop and tell his news, he began, "As I came through the last
village the people were so delighted with my news that they all danced
for joy, and shouted and kissed me." This he told so earnestly and
sincerely that the people, not wishing to be outdone by any other tribe,
also began singing and kissing him and making merry; and while the
excitement was at its height, pleased with his success, the facetious
traveler escaped and continued his journeyings.
Arrived at the next village he again began calling, "Goh-weh, goh-weh";
and the people and chiefs gathered around him, crying, "Let us hear."
And he answered, "As I passed through the last town some people wept at
my news, others began quarreling, kicking, and fighting." Immediately
his contagious news produced its effect, and in the confusion he again
escaped, saying to himself "What fools people are."
That night, as he was preparing to camp out, a man passed who inquired
the distance to the next village; but the traveler said, "You cannot
reach it to-night. Let us camp together." As they were each recounting
stories, and the new-comer was boasting of his superior cunning, the
traveler inquired, "What log is that you now use for a pillow?" and he
guessed hickory, elm, &c. But the traveler said, "No, it is everlasting
sleep." In the morning the traveler took some pitchy resin and rubbed
over the eyes of his sleeping comrade and left, laughing at the probable
chagrin the man would feel when attempting to open his eyes, and in the
recollection of the warning regarding everlasting sleep and his boasts
of superior cunning.
No further accounts of the traveler's jokes are told.
KINGFISHER AND HIS NEPHEW.
An old man and his nephew were living together in a good home near the
river, where they enjoyed themselves day after day. One morning the old
man said to his nephew, "When you are a man, remember in hunting never
to go west; always go to the east."
The young man reflected and said to himself, "Why should this be so? My
uncle To-bé-se-ne always goes west, and brings home plenty of fish. Why
should he tell me not to go? Why does he never take me with him?"
He made up his mind at last that he would go, never minding about the
advice. So he set off in a roundabout way, and as he passed the marsh
land near the river he saw his uncle. "Ha!" he thought, "now I know
where he catches his fish"; and he watched him take from his pocket two
sharp sticks and put them in his nose, and then plunge into deep water
and come up with a nice fish. He watched him carefully and then returned
home. Presently the uncle came back, bringing some nice fish, but he
never guessed that the nephew had seen him.
The young man now felt certain that he could fish as well as his uncle.
Accordingly, one day when the old man had gone deer hunting, he thought
at a good opportunity to try the new method. He hunted among his
uncle's things until he found two sticks, and then he set off to the
same log where he had seen his uncle sitting, which projected above the
water in the river. He saw the fishes swimming about, so he at once
stuck the two sticks into his nose, and plunged in. Then the sticks went
deep into his nose and made it ache dreadfully, and he felt very sick.
Home he hurried and lay down, thinking he should die of the agony. When
his uncle came home he heard him groaning, and said, "What ails you? Are
you sick?" "Yes, uncle," replied he, "I think I shall die. My head is
sore and pains me." "What have you been about?" asked the uncle,
severely. "I have been fishing," confessed the young man; "I took your
things, and I know I have done wrong." "You have done very wrong," said
the uncle; but he took the pincers and drew out the sticks, and the
young man promised never again to fish in the west, and got well.
After a while, however, he thought that he would go and see once more,
although he had been forbidden. So he started west. He heard boys
laughing, and he had none to play with, so he joined them. They invited
him to swim with them and he accepted, and they had a very gay time
together. At last they said, "It is time to go home; you go, too." Then
he saw that they had wings, and they gave him a pair and said, "There is
an island where all is lovely; you have never been up there-over the
tall tree up in the air; come." So they started up in the air, far away
above the trees, till they could see both sides of the river; and he
felt very happy. "Now," said they, "you can see the island"; and he
looked down and saw the print of their tracks on the island; so he knew
they had been there. Then said they, "Let us go in swimming again." So
they went into the water. Then they said, "Let us see which can go down
and come up the farthest"; and they tried one at a time, and he was the
last, so he must go the farthest; and while he was in the water the rest
put on their wings and, taking his also, flew up in the air. He plead in
vain for them to wait; but they called, as though speaking to some one
else, "Uncle, here is game for you to-night." Then they flew away in
spite of his entreaties, and he thought to himself, "I shall surely be
destroyed, perhaps by some animal."
As he looked around he perceived tracks of dogs which had clawed the
different trees, and then he concluded that perhaps they would tear him
to pieces. In order to confuse them in their scent he climbed each tree
a little way, and so went on until he reached the last tree on the
island, in which he remained and listened in suspense. He soon heard a
canoe on the river and some one calling the dogs. Then he concluded his
conjectures were true. After making a fire the man sent out his dogs.
The man had a horrid-looking face, both behind and before, which the
poor nephew could see by the fire-light. Then the dogs began barking,
having traced the tracks to the first tree; they made such a noise that
the man concluded they had found the game, and went to the tree, but
found nothing. So they went on to the next, and the next, with the same
experience, and this they continued the night long. Then the old man
said, very angrily, "There is no game here; my nephews have deceived
me." And he returned, leaving the last tree.
After sunrise the poor fellow came down from the tree, saying, "I think
I have escaped, for if those young fellows return I will watch them and
contrive to get their wings from them." He then concealed himself and
patiently awaited their coming. He soon heard their voices, saying, "Now
we will have a good time." They first jumped around to warm themselves,
and then said, "Let us all dive together." Then he rushed out, and,
taking all the wings, he put on one pair, and flew away, calling out,
"Uncle, now there is plenty of game for you"; and when they entreated
him he replied, "You had no mercy on me; I only treat you the same."
Then he flew on until he came to his old home, where he found his old
uncle, to whom he recounted the whole story; and after that time he
remained peacefully at home with his good uncle, where he still resides.
"So many times my old grandfather, chief Warrior, told me that story,"
said Zachariah Jamieson to me on the Seneca Reservation.
THE WILD-CAT AND THE WHITE RABBIT.
[Told by Zachariah Jamieson.]
The wild cat, roaming disconsolately in the woods, experienced the sense
of utter loneliness which calls for companionship. A friend he must have
or die. Cats there were none within speaking distance, but rabbits it
might be possible to entice. He commenced a plaintive ditty. His soul
craved a white rabbit above all else, and his song was pathetic enough
to entice the most obdurate:
He gah yah neh
He gah yah! He găh yăh
Di ho ni shu guă da-se
He yah gah.
His meaning was simple as his song, "When you are frightened, sweet
rabbit, you run in a circle."
He was wise in his generation. A short distance off lay a white rabbit
in his lair; hearing the melodious ditty he pricked up his ears.
"Heigho!" exclaimed he, "that dangerous fellow, the wild-cat, is around;
I hear his voice; I must scud"; and away he ran, turning from the
direction in which the voice came and hastening with all his might. He
had gone but a short distance when he stopped, turned back his ears and
listened. There was the song again:
He găh yăh! He găh yăh!
Di ho--
He waited to hear no more. On he sped for awhile; then once more he laid
back his ears and halted again; surely this time the song was nearer. He
was still more frightened. "I will go straight on" said he; but he
thought he was following an opposite direction. On and on he sped,
scarce daring to breathe; then a pause; alas! the singer is
nearer--nearer yet. Unfortunate rabbit! he could but follow his instinct
and run in a circle which brought him each time nearer his enemy. Still
the song went on, until, circling ever nearer, white rabbit fell a
victim to the wild-cat.