Gáhga Heron (Small Green Heron)
Kāhkaas Stork
Gáhga and his brother lived together. They were so small that people
called them “the two little Gáhga brothers.” The elder brother was
blind, but he was a great doctor; he could see everything, by the help
of his medicines.
One day a man came to the Gáhga brothers, and said: “A great many
people are going to snare deer. They have made bark ropes and tied them
between trees; now they are ready to drive the deer in. They want you
to come and help them.”
The elder brother was married. He had a nice-looking wife and a little
boy. He said to his wife: “You must pound seed and get ready to go with
my brother. I don’t want to take my medicines there; I will stay here
by the fire with our boy. I can’t look out of my eyes. Maybe the deer
would kill me.”
The woman pounded seed; she left some for her husband and little boy to
eat, and took a bagful for herself and her brother-in-law. Gáhga got
out his medicine and watched his wife and brother. He sat by the fire,
but he followed them all the way to where the people were driving in
deer. As he watched them, he got jealous and mad, for he saw that his
wife and brother were fond of each other. When they came home, they
brought a fawn. The woman cut it up, roasted the meat, and gave some of
it to her husband; he kicked it away. She gave him some wûdjûk (weed
like mustard), to eat; he tasted of it, spat it out, and threw the rest
in the fire.
She said: “The people were kind to me to-day; they gave me the fawn and
asked me to come to-morrow,” and she began to pound seed and get ready
to go.
The next day when the woman and her brother-in-law were starting off,
Gáhga said: “I know what kind of stuff you are feeding me! I know you
are making sport of me. You don’t fool me. You can do what you like; I
don’t care for you any longer, but I will make you feel sorry.” They
didn’t answer, didn’t say a word to him.
That day Gáhga’s sister came to see her little nephew. Gáhga said: “I
want you to get me a straw plate.”
“Why do you want a straw plate?” asked his sister.
“Get it for me, I want it.”
She wouldn’t get him the plate till he told her what he was going to do
with it, and he wouldn’t tell. She was afraid of him; she knew he was
mad about something.
After a while old man Kāhkaas came; he was kin of Gáhga. Gáhga asked
him for the plate and he gave it to him, and said: “Your brother is
stealing your wife. All the people at the deer hunt say so. But you
must keep quiet; you mustn’t get mad. You are old and blind; your
brother is young, and your wife is nice-looking.”
Gáhga screamed, he was so mad. He called his sister and said: “Lead me
to the hunt!”
She was so scared that she had to do as he told her. He took the straw
plate, and the three started. When they got to the place, his sister
said: “Sit down here, away from the snares; then you will be safe.”
“No,” said Gáhga, “I am going where my wife is.”
“Don’t be a fool,” said his sister. “She doesn’t want you; she has
another man.”
Gáhga took the plate from under his arm, and sat down on it.
About midnight his sister asked: “What are you doing? Why don’t you lie
down and go to sleep? Why are you sitting on that plate and keeping
awake all night?”
“Keep still and let me alone,” said Gáhga. “Stay here by me; I am going
to punish those people.” Then he got up and began to dance on the plate
and to call out: “Ho! ho! ho!”
Right away rain came down, but Gáhga didn’t get wet. He kept shaking
himself and calling: “Ho! ho! ho!” Each time that he called, it rained
harder. There was deep water everywhere, but the plate was dry and the
ground around it was dry. The people got as wet as though they had been
swimming.
Gáhga’s sister said: “You shouldn’t get mad and act in this way; you
will kill everybody.”
He didn’t listen to what she said; he called, “Ho! ho! ho!” and danced
faster and faster. The people were almost drowned; the water was up to
their arms. Still Gáhga kept shaking himself and dancing and calling:
“Ho! ho! ho!”
When the people saw that Gáhga and his sister were dry, they said to
his brother: “You have done this. You have made Gáhga mad. You have
taken your brother’s wife,” and they threatened to kill him.
He said: “I don’t want her. I am going to die; I am freezing.”
The people caught hold of the woman, dragged her along in the water,
and threw her down in front of her husband. He stopped dancing, and
right away it stopped raining.
The people said: “You shouldn’t be mad at us. We didn’t do this. We
don’t want to die; we want to go home. You should feel sorry for us and
dry up the water.”
Gáhga was sorry for them. He danced on the plate, but he didn’t call:
“Ho! ho! ho!” The water began to go away, and soon the ground was as
dry as it had been before the rain, and every one went home except
Gáhga and his wife and his brother.
Gáhga sat on his plate; he wouldn’t get up or he wouldn’t speak. His
wife got mad. She pushed him, and asked: “Why don’t you get ready to go
home?” He didn’t answer: then she took hold of his arm, jerked him up,
threw him on top of the load of meat on her back, and went home.
His brother went off on the mountains; he was afraid of Gáhga, and
afraid of the people; for they hated him, and the woman didn’t care for
him any longer.
Gáhga was so jealous and cross that he drove his wife away. His sister
took the little boy, and Gáhga stayed alone. Maybe he is dead and maybe
he is living. Doctors who have him for their medicine can make rain
whenever they want to. It is a good medicine. When any one has it, they
can look through a man’s body just as we look through a window.