"O wi, no á, O wi, no í,
O wi, no á, O wi, no í."
"This is the way our father sang," said she. "You try it, sister."
The elder began; soon both sang together.
"Oh, we have a nice song now," said they.
Their song went straight to where the man was, a long distance. This
man was Sedit. He was getting red earth for acorn bread. Water soaked
through red earth was used to moisten acorn meal. Sedit was covered
with shells. He was very splendid to look at. As he dug the earth, it
seemed to him that he heard something. He stopped, listened, listened
with all his ears. The sisters stopped singing, and he dug again;
again he heard the singing and stopped. When he stopped, the sisters
ceased to sing; when he dug, they began again. Thus it continued the
whole afternoon. They kept Sedit all day there doing little, almost
nothing.
Sometime before sunset the sisters dug their roots and went home.
Sedit went home too. He lived at the house of Satok Pokaila.
"What were you doing? I waited all day, forenoon and afternoon, for
you. It is too late to make bread now," said Satok.
This old woman lived alone till Sedit in his wanderings came to her
and worked, brought wood, and dug red earth for her.
"I got a headache," said he, "and had to lie down all day nearly."
"I am sorry," said the old woman; and she gave him food, but he did
not want any. Next day Sedit went for red earth. He did not eat much
that morning. He had not slept all the night. He was thinking of that
song on the mountain.
That day the sisters went to the mountain top, looked westward. Soon
Sedit came to the same place and worked, put two or three handfuls in
his basket, heard singing, heard it plainly, stopped, strained his
eyes to see who was singing, saw no one. Again he dug, again they
sang; again he stopped work, again they ceased singing; again he
worked, again they sang. Sedit thinks now how to follow the singers,
tries to whistle their music--cannot catch it--looks around, sees no
one. "Well, I must sing," says he. He sings, and this time he catches
the music.
The sisters sang now in response to him. They moved on, as he
thought, and he followed. But they were not moving, they stayed in one
place. They simply made their singing seem farther each time.
Sedit followed till they stopped at last, would not sing any longer.
He could not tell what to do. "It is better for me to go back to my
basket," said he at last. He went back, put his basket on the bank
east of the pit, and said: "Now, my basket, I will leave you a while,
I am going away. I place you east of the pit. Rootstick, I place you
east of the basket. If Satok Pokaila asks where I am, you will move
east, basket, and you will fall east, rootstick. She will know which
way I went."
He went eastward, went a short distance, forgot the song, stopped,
thought what to do. The song then came back to him. The sisters began
to sing again. Sedit followed their song.
Satok Pokaila waited for red earth, waited till midday, then thought,
"I'll go and see if Sedit has a headache." She found the basket partly
filled with red earth, and the stick standing east of it. She looked
in the pit where Sedit had dug, and thought, "He must be here
somewhere." She searched, but could not find him.
"Where is Sedit?" asked she of the basket. "Where did he go?--Where is
Sedit?" asked she of the rootstick.
The basket moved eastward till it reached the stick, the stick fell
toward the east. Old Satok knew now what had happened. She took the
basket and digging-stick home with her, put them up safely.
Sedit followed the sisters, sang himself, and listened to their song.
The song went southward, went away from the mountain. He followed till
he reached Tayam Norel. Sedit sat down. People asked where he came
from, where he was going. He would not tell, would not talk, did not
care for people's words. He thought of nothing, heard nothing but the
song of Kele's daughters.
He sat only a little while, and went away singing and listening to the
song of the sisters. Now it went eastward. He followed it to a
mountain, where he saw an old man setting a trap. This was old Pokok.
"Uncle, where are you going in such a great hurry?" asked Pokok.
"I am going east," replied Sedit. "You will not see me pass this way
again."
He hurried down the mountain, crossed a creek, and went straight up
another mountain; was just at the top, when he saw a very big man
coming toward him on the right hand as Sedit was going east. Sedit
stopped, looked, was afraid somewhat. The two stared at each other.
The stranger was very tall and very thick. Sedit was frightened. The
big man never stopped, went straight ahead westward. Sedit looked at
him a long time, didn't move, watched him going down the mountain.
After he had gone Sedit stood a long time, and then sat down.
"Why did he not speak to me?" thought Sedit. "He is the first person
I have met who wouldn't speak to me. Who is he? I should like to
know."
Sedit sat and thought all that day about the big man. He heard the
song always, at times very near him, but he thought so much about the
big man that he didn't follow it. He wondered if the big man would
come again, and said to himself, "I will wait and see."
About night Sedit thought, "If he comes and will not speak to me, I'll
kill him." All night he waited. He rose very early, had not slept any.
About sunrise he saw a man coming from afar, from the east, moving
westward. Sedit watched, had his bow and arrows ready. It was he who
would not speak the day before. Sedit shot him in the breast, shot
again. The big man paid no heed, passed right along. Sedit shot twenty
arrows. The stranger looked all the time at Sedit, said nothing. Sedit
shot twenty arrows more--spent all his arrows.
After he had shot away the forty arrows, and the man had passed right
close to him, Sedit sat down and thought, "Who is this that I cannot
kill him?" He thought a long time, and then knew that he must be Sas
Kiemila.
It was old Sas. Sas had been fooling Sedit, just as Kele's daughters
had fooled him.
Sedit heard the song again, and followed it. He went to the Bohema Mem
at Sawal Pom, went up Norken Mem till he came to Hin Pom where he
heard a great noise. Many people were dancing there.
"Oh, there is Sedit coming," said they. "Where is he going so fast?"
"Uncle, where are you going in such a great hurry?" asked one of the
men. "What news have you? Tell us what you have seen on your journey."
"I am travelling this country to look at it. I saw no one, can give
you no tidings of any one. I shall not pass this way again."
The man who spoke and the dancers were Hinwa people. Sedit rushed on,
came to a flat, saw a spring, and many persons drinking water.
"My grandsons, what are you doing, why do you drink so much water?
Water is bad for young people" (these people were birds of all sorts).
Sedit called the place Chilchil balus (bird drinking). He went on
without stopping or talking,--had no time for either. He listened,
heard the singing near a hill, ran there; heard talking of many
people, the Tsurats arguing about acorns.
Sedit passed these people, crossed the Norken Mem, ran along the
trail, came to an old man lying across it at the foot of a mountain.
Sedit, going fast, thought to jump over the old man, but he moved, and
Sedit stopped. "Grandson, what are you doing?" asked Sedit. This was
Pom Piweki. "I cannot tell what to do," said Pom. "I am old, I cannot
travel; so I lay down here."
"I will go on," said Sedit, "and come back this way, I think." He
heard the song nearer now; followed it, followed till sunset, when it
ceased. He stayed all night in that place.
Next morning, some time after sunrise, the song began again. Sedit
answered, and followed it. Then it ceased; he stopped again; then the
song began a second time; he followed; the song ceased. The song
circled around the mountain, going a little higher gradually;
sometimes it was near, sometimes it seemed far away, but he never came
up to it.
After wandering ten days, perhaps, he reached the top of the mountain
by going round and round the side of it. The singing was in the
mountain now all the time. He was on the highest part of Kele's
sweat-house. Kele, his twenty sons, and two daughters were inside, and
the girls and old man knew that some one was walking on the roof of
their sweat-house. Kele's sons went out each morning, and so did his
daughters. Although they were many, Sedit never saw one of them,--they
fooled him. At last, when Sedit was on the mountain, Kele shouted,--
"If any one is on my house, let him go down to the western door of
it."
Sedit heard, and went back the way by which he came. He went to Pom
Piweki and asked: "Do you know where the door to this sweat-house is?"
Pom Piweki made no answer. He stood up and pulled open a door; it
seemed as though he had been lying across the entrance. When he opened
the door, Sedit saw far into the house.
"Sedit, if you are here to go in, this is the way for you," said Pom
Piweki. "You will see an old man lying on the east side, go to him and
talk; this is his sweat-house."
Sedit went in and sat down near Kele, said nothing. Kele rose up and
gave Sedit food, talked to him, told him what kind of person he, Kele,
was, and about his children, and said: "Sedit, if you have come here
to stay, you must do what I tell you; you must be careful. I have
rough sons; if they know that you are here, they will make trouble. I
will hide you. They will make a noise, but you will not suffer if you
keep quiet; if you move, they will find you, and abuse you, surely."
Kele put Sedit in a basket in the ground, hid him there, leaving a
small hole to look through. "You may look out, but do not move," said
Kele.
As soon as Sedit was hidden the girls came in with roots, and sat down
at their sleeping-place. Sedit was near them. He thrust out his hand
and pinched the younger sister. She said nothing.
"Sister, have you seen any one?" asked she, after a time; "some one
pinched me."
"'Sh!" said the elder, "be quiet and say nothing; don't let our father
hear."
The elder went to cook, and Kele's twenty sons came hammering and
tramping.
The first ten, the smooth ones, came, as always, quietly; the second
ten came with a rush and an uproar. Sedit peeped out at them.
The younger sister pushed him back. "Be still," said she.
Sedit tried to rise; she kept him down.