"Be quiet, boys; don't talk so," said Kele. "Sedit is your uncle."
"Phew! I smell Sedit," cried all the second ten.
Kele could hardly keep his sons from taking Sedit. After they had
eaten they grew more excited. "Where is Sedit?" cried they. "Let us
find Sedit!"
At last they found Sedit, dragged him out, played ball with him, threw
him around the whole night from one side of the great house to the
other. Kele could do nothing, could not stop them. He went and lay
down. About sunrise Sedit screamed. He was almost dead. Kele's ten
rough sons were covered with deer blood and shouted all night. The
smooth ten sat still, could do nothing against the rough ten.
About sunrise Sedit could hardly breathe. He had a root under his left
arm, and as he was hurled across the house it fell into the fire and
made a great smoke. The odor was very pleasant. Kele's sons liked it.
They threw Sedit back to where they found him, left him, and began to
breathe in the smoke.
"My sons," said Kele, "I told you last night not to hurt or harm
Sedit; let him alone. That root which he dropped will be good for you,
and hereafter you will like it. Future people when going to hunt will
take this root, tsarauhosi, hold it out, and say, 'Kele, give us
deer.' They will give you the root, and you will give them deer. When
they go hunting and have bad luck, they will make a fire, burn this
root, hold it out while it smokes, and say, 'Kele, will you put deer
where we can see and kill them?'" (Wintu hunters carry this root and
burn it if they have bad luck in finding deer. Kele likes the odor and
sends them deer). Kele rubbed Sedit with deer marrow, put him on the
west side of the sweat-house, and said, "This is your place; you will
stay here."
The boys went to hunt, the girls to dig roots as before.
"How did you get those sons, brother?" asked Sedit once.
"You have no need to know; I will not tell you," replied Kele.
"How did you build this house? Two old men should not live in one
house. If I had a house, your sons could visit me when they wished,
see their uncle's house, and stay all night, perhaps."
"I don't think you could have sons, Sedit, or keep a house. I don't
believe you have strength for it; these things are hard to do," said
Kele.
But Sedit talked on about sons and a sweat-house. Kele asked Sedit to
sing for his sons while they danced and sweated. He sang twice and
sang fairly. "I could sing well if I had a house and sons of my own,"
remarked Sedit.
"I will build a sweat-house for him," thought Kele, at last. "He may
go through as I have. I don't think he will, but I can let him try."
The next night Kele made all sleep soundly. He went north a short
distance and wished for a sweat-house. A mountain stood in front of
him next moment. Kele went home before daylight and lay down. That day
Sedit talked on as before.
"Come," said Kele; and he took him to the new mountain. "You can live
here if you like. This is your house." Kele left him then.
Sedit made a fire, found a pipe and tobacco, smoked, stayed many days
and nights by himself there. "I should like to know how Kele got his
sons," thought he one night. "I must ask him."
"I come to tell you," said Sedit one morning, "that I am lonesome. I
want to know how you got your sons and daughters."
Kele made no answer for a long time. At last he told him how he got
his daughters.
Sedit went home, did exactly as Kele had done, then lay down without
sleeping. Toward morning he heard some one jump to the floor; next he
got a blow on the back, then a second. The two persons went away and
sat down. Sedit rose, made a big fire, and began singing for a
sweat-dance. Two girls stood near the fire, sweated, then went to the
creek, swam, and went home. They had very long hair and were nice
looking. Sedit gave them wooden combs and mink-skins for their hair,
gave them food and nice baskets painted red, told each to dig roots
and cook them.
Sedit lived a while with his daughters, till he thought once, "I want
to have sons." He went to Kele, and Kele told how he had got sons,
told carefully.
Sedit cut the sticks, did everything as Kele said, and lay by the
fire, but he could not keep from looking up; the moment he looked all
the sticks fell to the ground. Sedit put them in place again, lay by
the fire, looked up. The sticks fell a second time; he put them up
again, lay down, looked a third time. The sticks fell a third time. He
was putting the sticks up till daylight, when he had to stop. Sedit
went to Kele that day. "My sticks were falling all night," said he.
Kele knew what had happened already. "Why not do as I told you? I told
you not to look up."
"I will not look any more," said Sedit.
Next night he put up sticks again and waited, took the blows till the
last one of the second ten was giving him ten blows, then he sprang up
and screamed. All the twenty sons dropped down and were sticks again.
It was just daylight. Sedit gathered the sticks into a basket, and
looked to see if the girls were awake. They were sticks as well as the
others.
Sedit felt very sorry, could not tell what to do. He put the two
sticks with the other twenty, took one at a time, held it up, and
said, "This was my son, this was my daughter." He was sorry and
wondered if he could make others. He went to Kele and said,--
"My brother, I could not stand it."
"What did I tell you?"
"Can I not make more?"
"Perhaps you cannot endure it." Kele did not want him to try.
"I am sorry for my girls," said Sedit, "I want them back; I was fond
of them."
"You may try for sons, but those girls will not come back."
Sedit tried a third time. The beating was so hard that he almost
screamed; but he held out this time, and had twenty sons. Sedit's
house was full of sons, but he had no daughters; the sticks would not
turn to girls again, though he did with them as he had the first time.
Sedit sent his sons to hunt. "Go wherever you like," said he. "On the
west side is a ridge; go on that ridge, keep in one line, and when you
turn some one may see you and think, 'What a crowd of nice boys!'"
Kele's boys were hunting that day, and saw Sedit's sons in a long
line. "Look at that row of men on the ridge," said they. "Those are
our cousins," said one of the smooth ten; "those are Sedit's sons."
Sedit's sons went to a flat, danced and played all the day, took
yellow clay, made paste of it, painted themselves yellow--that is why
coyotes are yellow to this day; the paint would not wash off. All went
home in a line. Sedit had supper for them.
"Why do you come without deer?" asked Sedit.
"We danced on the flat and painted."
Sedit said nothing. All ate; then Sedit thought, "I wish you boys to
sleep." All fell asleep. Sedit went to Kele, woke him up, and said,--
"My sons went to hunt, but came home without deer. What shall I do
with them?"
"Let them hunt birds. Let them hunt gophers and grasshoppers in the
meadows. Gophers are as good as deer."
"All right," said Sedit; and he went home and slept.
They brought grasshoppers and gophers from the hunt next day, and
Sedit was satisfied.
"Let them live on that kind of food," thought he.
They told of their hunting that day. "We wanted water," said one of
them, "and met an old woman. 'We are dry and cannot find water,' said
we to her. 'I will give you water,' said the old woman; 'come with
me.' We followed her a while. I was afraid and said to my brothers,
'Do not drink the water she gives.' One of my brothers shouted at the
old woman and frightened her. She fell back and turned into a swamp
with a spring in the middle of it. We didn't go near the spring, but
were nearly lost in the swamp."
"That is a wicked old woman," said Sedit. "That is Tunhlucha Pokaila.
She drowns people often. I met her once and she came near drowning me.
Don't you go near her again. Hunt gophers and grasshoppers elsewhere."
"Now, my sons," said Sedit, some days later, "go and scatter around
through this country. Whenever you want to see me come here to my
sweat-house."
Sedit's sons scattered north, south, east, and west. They were at
every ridge and point, in every valley and meadow, at every spring and
river.
Kele's sons stayed at their great mountain sweat-house, doing the
same things, living in the same way. The two sisters never married,
and all Kele's people are in that mountain now. When they go out they
look like wolves; but when inside, when at home in the mountain, they
are people.