Rain Song

White floating clouds. Clouds, like the plains, come and water the

earth. Sun, embrace the earth that she may be fruitful. Moon, lion of

the north, bear of the west, badger of the south, wolf of the east,

eagle of the heavens, shrew of the earth, elder war hero, younger war

hero, warriors of the six mountains of the world, intercede with the

Cloud People for us that they may water the earth. Medicine bowl, cloud

bowl, and water vase give us your hearts, that the earth may be watered.

I make the ancient road of meal that my song may pass straight over it--

the ancient road. White shell bead woman who lives where the sun goes

down, mother whirlwind, father Sussistinnako, mother Yaya, creator of

good thoughts, yellow woman of the north, blue woman of the west, red

woman of the south, white woman of the east, slightly yellow woman of

the zenith, and dark woman of the nadir, I ask your intercession with

the Cloud People.

Rain Song

Sia (New Mexico)

Let the white floating clouds--the clouds like the plains--the

lightning, thunder, rainbow, and cloud peoples, water the earth. Let the

people of the white floating clouds,--the people of the clouds like the

plains--the lightning, thunder, rain bow, and cloud peoples--come and

work for us, and water the earth.

The Corn Maidens

Zuni (New Mexico)

After long ages of wandering, the precious Seed-things rested over the

Middle at Zuni, and men turned their hearts to the cherishing of their

corn and the Corn Maidens instead of warring with strange men.

But there was complaint by the people of the customs followed. Some said

the music was not that of the olden time. Far better was that which of

nights they often heard as they wandered up and down the river trail.

(6) Wonderful music, as of liquid voices in caverns, or the echo of

women's laughter in water-vases. And the music was timed with a

deep-toned drum from the Mountain of Thunder. Others thought the music

was that of the ghosts of ancient men, but it was far more beautiful

than the music when danced the Corn Maidens. Others said light clouds

rolled upward from the grotto in Thunder Mountain like to the mists that

leave behind them the dew, but lo! even as they faded the bright

garments of the Rainbow women might be seen fluttering, and the broidery

and paintings of these dancers of the mist were more beautiful than the

costumes of the Corn Maidens.

Then the priests of the people said, "It may well be Paiyatuma, the

liquid voices his flute and the flutes of his players."

Now when the time of ripening corn was near, the fathers ordered

preparation for the dance of the Corn Maidens. They sent the two

Master-Priests of the Bow to the grotto at Thunder Mountains, saying,

"If you behold Paiyatuma, and his maidens, perhaps they will give us the

help of their customs."

Then up the river trail, the priests heard the sound of a drum and

strains of song. It was Paiyatuma and his seven maidens, the Maidens of

the House of Stars, sisters of the Corn Maidens.

The God of Dawn and Music lifted his flute and took his place in the

line of dancers. The drum sounded until the cavern shook as with

thunder. The flutes sang and sighed as the wind in a wooded canon while

still the storm is distant. White mists floated up from the wands of the

Maidens, above which fluttered the butterflies of Summer-land about the

dress of the Rainbows in the strange blue light of the night.

Then Paiyatuma, smiling, said, "Go the way before, telling the fathers

of our custom, and straightway we will follow."

Soon the sound of music was heard, coming from up the river, and soon

the Flute People and singers and maidens of the Flute dance. Up rose the

fathers and all the watching people, greeting the God of Dawn with

outstretched hand and offering of prayer meal. Then the singers took

their places and sounded their drum, flutes, and song of clear waters,

while the Maidens of the Dew danced their Flute dance. Greatly marvelled

the people, when from the wands they bore forth came white clouds, and

fine cool mists descended.

Now when the dance was ended and the Dew Maidens had retired, out came

the beautiful Mothers of Corn. And when the players of the flutes saw

them, they were enamoured of their beauty and gazed upon them so

intently that the Maidens let fall their hair and cast down their eyes.

And jealous and bolder grew the mortal youths, and in the morning dawn,

in rivalry, the dancers sought all too freely the presence of the Corn

Maidens, no longer holding them so precious as in the olden time. And

the matrons, intent on the new dance, heeded naught else. But behold!

The mists increased greatly, surrounding dancers and watchers alike,

until within them, the Maidens of Corn, all in white garments, became

invisible. Then sadly and noiselessly they stole in amongst the people

and laid their corn wands down amongst the trays, and laid their white

broidered garments thereupon, as mothers lay soft kilting over their

babes. Then even as the mists became they, and with the mists drifting,

fled away, to the far south Summer-land.

(6) The mists and the dawn breeze on the river and in the grotto.

The Search for the Corn Maidens

Zuni (New Mexico)

Then the people in their trouble called the two Master-Priests and said:

"Who, now, think ye, should journey to seek our precious Maidens?

Bethink ye! Who amongst the Beings is even as ye are, strong of will and

good of eyes? There is our great elder brother and father, Eagle, he of

the floating down and of the terraced tail-fan. Surely he is enduring of

will and surpassing of sight."

"Yea. Most surely," said the fathers. "Go ye forth and beseech him."

Then the two sped north to Twin Mountain, where in a grotto high up

among the crags, with his mate and his young, dwelt the Eagle of the

White Bonnet.

They climbed the mountain, but behold! Only the eaglets were there. They

screamed lustily and tried to hide themselves in the dark recesses.

"Pull not our feathers, ye of hurtful touch, but wait. When we are older

we will drop them for you even from the clouds."

"Hush," said the warriors. "Wait in peace. We seek not ye but thy

father."

Then from afar, with a frown, came old Eagle. "Why disturb ye my

featherlings?" he cried.

"Behold! Father and elder brother, we come seeking only the light of thy

favor. Listen!"

Then they told him of the lost Maidens of the Corn, and begged him to

search for them.

"Be it well with thy wishes," said Eagle. "Go ye before contentedly."

So the warriors returned to the council. But Eagle winged his way high

into the sky. High, high, he rose, until he circled among the clouds,

small-seeming and swift, like seed-down in a whirlwind. Through all the

heights, to the north, to the west, to the south, and to the east, he

circled and sailed. Yet nowhere saw he trace of the Corn Maidens. Then

he flew lower, returning. Before the warriors were rested, people heard

the roar of his wings. As he alighted, the fathers said, "Enter thou and

sit, oh brother, and say to us what thou hast to say." And they offered

him the cigarette of the space relations.

When they had puffed the smoke toward the four points of the compass,

and Eagle had purified his breath with smoke, and had blown smoke over

sacred things, he spoke.

"Far have I journeyed, scanning all the regions. Neither bluebird nor

woodrat can hide from my seeing," he said, snapping his beak. "Neither

of them, unless they hide under bushes. Yet I have failed to see

anything of the Maidens ye seek for. Send for my younger brother, the

Falcon. Strong of flight is he, yet not so strong as I, and nearer the

ground he takes his way ere sunrise."

Then the Eagle spread his wings and flew away to Twin Mountain. The

Warrior-Priests of the Bow sped again fleetly over the plain to the

westward for his younger brother, Falcon.

Sitting on an ant hill, so the warriors found Falcon. He paused as they

approached, crying, "If ye have snare strings, I will be off like the

flight of an arrow well plumed of our feathers!"

"No," said the priests. "Thy elder brother hath bidden us seek thee."

Then they told Falcon what had happened, and how Eagle had failed to

find the Corn Maidens, so white and beautiful.

"Failed!" said Falcon. "Of course he failed. He climbs aloft to the

clouds and thinks he can see under every bush and into every shadow, as

sees the Sunfather who sees not with eyes. Go ye before."

Before the Warrior-Priests had turned toward the town, the Falcon had

spread his sharp wings and was skimming off over the tops of the trees

and bushes as though verily seeking for field mice or birds' nests. And

the Warriors returned to tell the fathers and to await his coming.

But after Falcon had searched over the world, to the north and west, to

the east and south, he too returned and was received as had been Eagle.

He settled on the edge of a tray before the altar, as on the ant hill he

settles today. When he had smoked and had been smoked, as had been

Eagle, he told the sorrowing fathers and mothers that he had looked

behind every copse and cliff shadow, but of the Maidens he had found no

trace.

"They are hidden more closely than ever sparrow hid," he said. Then he,

too, flew away to his hills in the west.

"Our beautiful Maiden Mothers," cried the matrons. "Lost, lost as the

dead are they!"

"Yes," said the others. "Where now shall we seek them? The far-seeing

Eagle and the close-searching Falcon alike have failed to find them."

"Stay now your feet with patience," said the fathers. Some of them had

heard Raven, who sought food in the refuse and dirt at the edge of town,

at daybreak.

"Look now," they said. "There is Heavy-nose, whose beak never fails to

find the substance of seed itself, however little or well hidden it be.

He surely must know of the Corn Maidens. Let us call him."

So the warriors went to the river side. When they found Raven, they

raised their hands, all weaponless.

"We carry no pricking quills," they called. "Blackbanded father, we seek

your aid. Look now! The Mother-maidens of Seed whose substance is the

food alike of thy people and our people, have fled away. Neither our

grandfather the Eagle, nor his younger brother the Falcon, can trace

them. We beg you to aid us or counsel us."

"Ka! ka!" cried the Raven. "Too hungry am I to go abroad fasting on

business for ye. Ye are stingy! Here have I been since perching time,

trying to find a throatful, but ye pick thy bones and lick thy bowls too

clean for that, be sure."

"Come in, then, poor grandfather. We will give thee food to cat. Yea,

and a cigarette to smoke, with all the ceremony."

"Say ye so?" said the Raven. He ruffled his collar and opened his mouth

so wide with a lusty kaw-la-ka--that he might well have swallowed his

own head. "Go ye before," he said, and followed them into the court of

the dancers.

He was not ill to look upon. Upon his shoulders were bands of white

cotton, and his back was blue, gleaming like the hair of a maiden dancer

in the sunlight. The Master-Priest greeted Raven, bidding him sit and

smoke.

"Ha! There is corn in this, else why the stalk of it?" said the Raven,

when he took the cane cigarette of the far spaces and noticed the joint

of it. Then he did as he had seen the Master-Priest do, only more

greedily. He sucked in such a throatful of the smoke, fire and all, that

it almost strangled him. He coughed and grew giddy, and the smoke all

hot and stinging went through every part of him. It filled all his

feathers, making even his brown eyes bluer and blacker, in rings. It is

not to be wondered at, the blueness of flesh, blackness of dress, and

skinniness, yes, and tearfulness of eye which we see in the Raven

to-day. And they are all as greedy of corn food as ever, for behold! No

sooner had the old Raven recovered than he espied one of the ears of

corn half hidden under the mantle-covers of the trays. He leaped from

his place laughing. They always laugh when they find anything, these

ravens. Then he caught up the ear of corn and made off with it over the

heads of the people and the tops of the houses, crying.

"Ha! ha! In this wise and in no other will ye find thy Seed Maidens."

But after a while he came back, saying, "A sharp eye have I for the

flesh of the Maidens. But who might see their breathing-beings, ye

dolts, except by the help of the Father of Dawn-Mist himself, whose

breath makes breath of others seem as itself." Then he flew away cawing.

Then the elders said to each other, "It is our fault, so how dare we

prevail on our father Paiyatuma to aid us? He warned us of this in the

old time."

Suddenly, for the sun was rising, they heard Paiyatuma in his daylight

mood and transformation. Thoughtless and loud, uncouth in speech, he

walked along the outskirts of the village. He joked fearlessly even of

fearful things, for all his words and deeds were the reverse of his

sacred being. He sat down on a heap of vile refuse, saying he would have

a feast.

"My poor little children," he said. But he spoke to aged priests and

white-haired matrons.

"Good-night to you all," he said, though it was in full dawning. So he

perplexed them with his speeches.

"We beseech thy favor, oh father, and thy aid, in finding our beautiful

Maidens." So the priests mourned.

"Oh, that is all, is it? But why find that which is not lost, or summon

those who will not come?"

Then he reproached them for not preparing the sacred plumes, and picked

up the very plumes he had said were not there.

Then the wise Pekwinna, the Speaker of the Sun, took two plumes and the

banded wing-tips of the turkey, and approaching Paiyatuma stroked him

with the tips of the feathers and then laid the feathers upon his

lips....

Then Paiyatuma became aged and grand and straight, as is a tall tree

shorn by lightning. He said to the father:

"Thou are wise of thought and good of heart. Therefore I will summon

from Summer-land the beautiful Maidens that ye may look upon them once

more and make offering of plumes in sacrifice for them, but they are

lost as dwellers amongst ye."

Then he told them of the song lines and the sacred speeches and of the

offering of the sacred plume wands, and then turned him about and sped

away so fleetly that none saw him.

Beyond the first valley of the high plain to the southward Paiyatuma

planted the four plume wands. First he planted the yellow, bending over

it and watching it. When it ceased to flutter, the soft down on it

leaned northward but moved not. Then he set the blue wand and watched

it; then the white wand. The eagle down on them leaned to right and left

and still northward, yet moved not. Then farther on he planted the red

wand, and bending low, without breathing, watched it closely. The soft

down plumes began to wave as though blown by the breath of some small

creature. Backward and forward, northward and southward they swayed, as

if in time to the breath of one resting.

"'T is the breath of my Maidens in Summer-land, for the plumes of the

southland sway soft to their gentle breathing. So shall it ever be. When

I set the down of my mists on the plains and scatter my bright beads in

the northland(7), summer shall go thither from afar, borne on the breath

of the Seed Maidens. Where they breathe, warmth, showers, and fertility

shall follow with the birds of Summer-land, and the butterflies,

northward over the world."

Then Paiyatuma arose and sped by the magic of his knowledge into the

countries of Summer-land,--fled swiftly and silently as the soft breath

he sought for, bearing his painted flute before him. And when he paused

to rest, he played on his painted flute and the butterflies and birds

sought him. So he sent them to seek the Maidens, following swiftly, and

long before he found them he greeted them with the music of his

songsound, even as the People of the Seed now greet them in the song of

the dancers.

When the Maidens heard his music and saw his tall form in their great

fields of corn, they plucked ears, each of her own kind, and with them

filled their colored trays and over all spread embroidered

mantles,--embroidered in all the bright colors and with the

creature-songs of Summer-land. So they sallied forth to meet him and

welcome him. Then he greeted them, each with the touch of his hands and

the breath of his flute, and bade them follow him to the northland home

of their deserted children.

So by the magic of their knowledge they sped back as the stars speed

over the world at night time, toward the home of our ancients. Only at

night and dawn they journeyed, as the dead do, and the stars also. So

they came at evening in the full of the last moon to the Place of the

Middle, bearing their trays of seed.

Glorious was Paiyatuma, as he walked into the courts of the dancers in

the dusk of the evening and stood with folded arms at the foot of the

bow-fringed ladder of priestly council, he and his follower Shutsukya.

He was tall and beautiful and banded with his own mists, and carried the

banded wings of the turkeys with which he had winged his flight from

afar, leading the Maidens, and followed as by his own shadow by the

black being of the corn-soot, Shutsukya, who cries with the voice of the

frost wind when the corn has grown aged and the harvest is taken away.

And surpassingly beautiful were the Maidens clothed in the white cotton

and embroidered garments of Summer-land.

Then after long praying and chanting by the priests, the fathers of the

people, and those of the Seed and Water, and the keepers of sacred

things, the Maiden-mother of the North advanced to the foot of the

ladder. She lifted from her head the beautiful tray of yellow corn and

Paiyatama took it. He pointed it to the regions, each in turn, and the

Priest of the North came and received the tray of sacred seed.

Then the Maiden of the West advanced and gave up her tray of blue corn.

So each in turn the Maidens gave up their trays of precious seed. The

Maiden of the South, the red seed; the Maiden of the East, the white

seed; then the Maiden with the black seed, and lastly, the tray of

all-color seed which the Priestess of Seed-and-All herself received.

And now, behold! The Maidens stood as before, she of the North at the

northern end, but with her face southward far looking; she of the West,

next, and lo! so all of them, with the seventh and last, looking

southward. And standing thus, the darkness of the night fell around

them. As shadows in deep night, so these Maidens of the Seed of Corn,

the beloved and beautiful, were seen no more of men. And Paiyatuma stood

alone, for Shutsukya walked now behind the Maidens, whistling shrilly,

as the frost wind whistles when the corn is gathered away, among the

lone canes and dry leaves of a gleaned field.

(7) Dew drops.

Hasjelti and Hostjoghon

Navajo (New Mexico)

Hasjelti was the son of the white corn, and Hostjoghon the son of the

yellow corn. They were born on the mountains where the fogs meet. These

two became the great song-makers of the world.

To the mountain where they were born (Henry Mountain, Utah), they gave

two songs and two prayers. Then they went to Sierra Blanca (Colorado)

and made two songs and prayers and dressed the mountain in clothing of

white shell with two eagle plumes upon its head. They visited San Mateo

Mountain (New Mexico) and gave to it two songs and prayers, and dressed

it in turquoise, even to leggings and moccasins, and placed two eagle

plumes upon its head. Then they went to San Francisco Mountain (Arizona)

and made two songs and prayers and dressed that mountain in abalone

shells with two eagle plumes upon its head. They then visited Ute

Mountain and gave to it two songs and prayers and dressed it in black

beads. Then they returned to their own mountain where the fogs meet and

said, "We two have made all these songs."

Other brothers were born of the white corn and yellow corn, and two

brothers were placed on each mountain. They are the spirits of the

mountains and to them the clouds come first. All the brothers together

made game, the deer and elk and buffalo, and so game was created.

Navajos pray for rain and snow to Hasjelti and Hostjoghon. They stand

upon the mountain tops and call the clouds to gather around them.

Hasjelti prays to the sun, for the Navajos.

"Father, give me the light of your mind that my mind may be strong. Give

me your strength, that my arm may be strong. Give me your rays, that

corn and other vegetation may grow."

The most important prayers are addressed to Hasjelti and the most

valuable gifts made to him. He talks to the Navajos through the birds,

and for this reason the choicest feathers and plumes are placed in the

cigarettes and attached to the prayer sticks offered to him.

The Song-Hunter

Navajo (New Mexico)

A man sat thinking. "Let me see. My songs are too short. I want more

songs. Where shall I go to find them?"

Hasjelti appeared and perceiving his thoughts, said, "I know where you

can get more songs."

"Well, I want to get more. So I will follow you."

They went to a certain point in a box canon in the Big Colorado River

and here they found four gods, the Hostjobokon, at work, hewing

cottonwood logs.

Hasjelti said, "This will not do. Cottonwood becomes water-soaked. You

must use pine instead of cottonwood."

The Hostjobokon began boring the pine with flint, but Hasjelti said,

"That is slow work." He commanded a whirlwind to hollow the log. A

cross, joining at the exact middle of each log, a solid one and the

hollow one, was formed. The arms of the cross were equal.

The song-hunter entered the hollow log and Hasjelti closed the end with

a cloud so that water would not enter when the logs were launched upon

the great waters. The logs floated off. The Hostjobokon, accompanied by

their wives, rode upon the logs, one couple sitting upon each arm.

Hasjelti, Hostjoghon, and the two Naaskiddi walked upon the banks to

keep the logs off shore. Hasjelti carried a squirrel skin filled with

tobacco, with which to supply the gods on their journey. Hostjoghon

carried a staff ornamented with eagle and turkey plumes and a gaming

ring with two humming birds tied to it with white cotton cord. The two

Naaskiddi carried staffs of lightning. The Naaskiddi had clouds upon

their backs in which the seeds of all corn and grasses were carried.

After floating a long distance down the river, they came to waters that

had a shore on one side only. Here they landed. Here they found a people

like themselves. When these people learned of the Song-hunter, they gave

him many songs and they painted pictures on a cotton blanket and said,

"These pictures must go with the songs. If we give this blanket to you,

you will lose it. We will give you white earth and black coals which you

will grind together to make black paint, and we will give you white

sand, yellow sand, and red sand. For the blue paint you will take white

sand and black coals with a very little red and yellow sand. These will

give you blue."

And so the Navajo people make blue, even to this day.

The Song-hunter remained with these people until the corn was ripe.

There he learned to eat corn and he carried some back with him to the

Navajos, who had not seen corn before, and he taught them how to raise

it and how to eat it.

When he wished to return home, the logs would not float upstream. Four

sunbeams attached themselves to the logs, one to each cross arm, and so

drew the Song-hunter back to the box canon from which he had started.

When he reached that point, he separated the logs. He placed the end of

the solid log into the hollow end of the other and planted this great

pole in the river. It may be seen there to-day by the venturesome. In

early days many went there to pray and make offerings.

Sand Painting of the Song-Hunter

Navajo

(Explanatory of frontispiece)

The black cross bars denote pine logs; the white lines the froth of the

water; the yellow, vegetable debris gathered by the logs; the blue and

red lines, sunbeams. The blue spot in the centre of the cross denotes

water. There are four Hostjobokon, with their wives, the Hostjoboard.

Each couple sits upon one of the cross arms of the logs. The gods carry

in their right hands a rattle, and in their left sprigs of pinon; the

goddesses carry pinon sprigs in both hands.

Hasjelti is to the east of the painting. He carries a squirrel skin

filled with tobacco. His shirt is white cotton and very elastic. The

leggings are of white deerskin, fringed, and his head is ornamented with

an eagle's tail; at the tip of each plume there is a fluffy feather from

the breast of the eagle. The projection on the right of the throat is a

fox skin.

Hostjoghon is at the west. His shirt is invisible, the dark being the

dark of the body. His staff is colored black from a charred plant. Two

strips of beaver skin tipped with six quills of the porcupine are

attached to the right of the throat. The four colored stars on the body

are bead ornaments. The top of the staff is ornamented with a turkey's

tail. Eagle and turkey plumes are alternately attached to the staff.

The Naaskiddi are north and south of the painting. They carry staffs of

lightning ornamented with eagle plumes and sunbeams. Their bodies are

nude except the loin skirt. The hunch upon the back is a black cloud and

the three groups of white lines indicate corn and other seeds. Five

eagle plumes are attached to the cloud-back, since eagles live among the

clouds. The body is surrounded by sunlight. The lines of blue and red

which border the cloud-back denote sunbeams penetrating storm clouds.

The black circle zig-zagged with white around the head is a cloud basket

filled with corn and seeds of grass. On each side of the head are five

feathers of the red-shafted flicker.

The Rainbow goddess, upon which these gods often travel, partly

encircles and completes the picture.

These sand pictures are drawn upon common yellow sand, brought in

blankets and laid in squares about three inches thick and four feet in

diameter. The colors used in decoration were yellow, red, and white,

secured from sand stones, black from charcoal, and a grayish blue made

from white sand and charcoal mixed with a very small quantity of yellow

and red sands.

(From eighth annual report of the Bureau of Ethnology, abridged from

description of James Stevenson.)

The Guiding Duck and the Lake of Death

Zuni (New Mexico)

Now K-yak-lu, the all-hearing and wise of speech, all alone had been

journeying afar in the North Land of cold and white loneliness. He was

lost, for the world in which he wandered was buried in the snow which

lies spread there forever. So cold he was that his face became wan and

white from the frozen mists of his own breath, white as become all

creatures who dwell there. So cold at night and dreary of heart, so lost

by day and blinded by the light was he that he wept, and died of heart

and became transformed as are the gods. Yet his lips called continually

and his voice grew shrill and dry-sounding, like the voice of far-flying

water-fowl. As he cried, wandering blindly, the water birds flocking

around him peered curiously at him, calling meanwhile to their comrades.

But wise though he was of all speeches, and their meanings plain to him,

yet none told him the way to his country and people.

Now the Duck heard his cry and it was like her own. She was of all

regions the traveller and searcher, knowing all the ways, whether above

or below the waters, whether in the north, the west, the south, or the

east, and was the most knowing of all creatures. Thus the wisdom of the

one understood the knowledge of the other.

And the All-wise cried to her, "The mountains are white and the valleys;

all plains are like others in whiteness, and even the light of our

Father the Sun, makes all ways more hidden of whiteness! In brightness

my eyes see but darkness."

The Duck answered:

"Think no longer sad thoughts. Thou hearest all as I see all. Give me

tinkling shells from thy girdle and place them on my neck and in my

beak. I may guide thee with my seeing if thou hear and follow my trail.

Well I know the way to thy country. Each year I lead thither the wild

geese and the cranes who flee there as winter follows."

So the All-wise placed his talking shells on the neck of the Duck, and

the singing shells in her beak, and though painfully and lamely, yet he

followed the sound she made with the shells. From place to place with

swift flight she sped, then awaiting him, ducking her head that the

shells might call loudly. By and by they came to the country of thick

rains and mists on the borders of the Snow World, and passed from water

to water, until wider water lay in their path. In vain the Duck called

and jingled the shells from the midst of the waters. K-yak-lu could

neither swim nor fly as could the Duck.

Now the Rainbow-worm was near in that land of mists and waters and he

heard the sound of the sacred shells.

"These be my grandchildren," he said, and called, "Why mourn ye? Give me

plumes of the spaces. I will bear you on my shoulders."

Then the All-wise took two of the lightest plumewands, and the Duck her

two strong feathers. And he fastened them together and breathed on them

while the Rainbow-worm drew near. The Rainbow unbent himself that

K-yak-lu might mount, then he arched himself high among the clouds. Like

an arrow he straightened himself forward, and followed until his face

looked into the Lake of the Ancients. And there the All-wise descended,

and sat there alone, in the plain beyond the mountains. The Duck had

spread her wings in flight to the south to take counsel of the gods.

Then the Duck, even as the gods had directed, prepared a litter of poles

and reeds, and before the morning came, with the litter they went,

singing a quaint and pleasant song, down the northern plain. And when

they found the All-wise, he looked upon them in the starlight and wept.

But the father of the gods stood over him and chanted the sad dirge

rite. Then K-yak-lu sat down in the great soft litter they bore for him.

They lifted it upon their shoulders, bearing it lightly, singing loudly

as they went, to the shores of the deep black lake, where gleamed from

the middle the lights of the dead.

Out over the magic ladder of rushes and canes which reared itself over

the water, they bore him. And K-yak-lu, scattering sacred prayer meal

before him, stepped down the way, slowly, like a blind man. No sooner

had he taken four steps than the ladder lowered into the deep. And the

All-wise entered the council room of the gods.

The gods sent out their runners, to summon all beings, and called in

dancers for the Dance of Good. And with these came the little ones who

had sunk beneath the waters, well and beautiful and all seemingly clad

in cotton mantles and precious neck jewels.

The Boy Who Became A God

Navajo (New Mexico)

The Tolchini, a clan of the Navajos, lived at Wind Mountains. One of

them used to take long visits into the country. His brothers thought he

was crazy. The first time on his return, he brought with him a pine

bough; the second time, corn. Each time he returned he brought something

new and had a strange story to tell. His brothers said: "He is crazy. He

does not know what he is talking about."

Now the Tolchini left Wind Mountains and went to a rocky foothill east

of the San Mateo Mountain. They had nothing to eat but seed grass. The

eldest brother said, "Let us go hunting," but they told the youngest

brother not to leave camp. But five days and five nights passed, and

there was no word. So he followed them.

After a day's travel he camped near a canon, in a cavelike place. There

was much snow but no water so he made a fire and heated a rock, and made

a hole in the ground. The hot rock heated the snow and gave him water to

drink. Just then he heard a tumult over his head, like people passing.

He went out to see what made the noise and saw many crows crossing back

and forth over the canon. This was the home of the crow, but there were

other feathered people there, and the chaparral cock. He saw many fires

made by the crows on each side of the caeon. Two crows flew down near

him and the youth listened to hear what was the matter.