After each name is given that of the creature or thing into which the
personage was changed subsequently.
=Chíchepa=, spotted chicken-hawk; =Chikpina=, weasel; =Hapawila=,
water snake; =Jewinna=, chicken-hawk; =Jewinpa=, young chicken-hawk;
=Kedila=, soaproot plant; =Matsklila=, turkey buzzard; =Pakálai
Jáwichi=, water lizard; =Tirúkala=, lamprey eel; =Wirula=, red fox.
=Weanmauna= means the hidden one.
* * * * *
Tirukala lived near Jamahdi, on the Juka Mapti Mountain, and he was
thinking, thinking for a long time, how to change this world, how to
make it better.
"I have to fix this country. I will fix it now," said Tirukala. "I
will make it better to live in."
When he had said this he went off walking and began to sing. All the
mountains stood too near together at that time, and Tirukala pushed
the mountains apart from one another, made room between them. He put
creeks everywhere, and big and little rivers. He made springs in
different places and swamps. He put salmon and other fish into rivers
and creeks, plenty of them everywhere.
Tirukala had two persons to help him, Pakalai Jawichi and Hapawila.
The three lived together, working and making the world better to live
in.
Tirukala never ate anything; never took food of any kind. He worked
always, and sang while at work. Hapawila made salmon traps and caught
many salmon. Just like Tirukala, he sang all the time. After a while
two young girls heard this singing. They were the two daughters of
Kedila. They went out to get wood one day and heard the singing.
They filled their baskets and went home, put the wood down, then went
out and listened to the singing. They thought it was very sweet and
beautiful.
"Let us go nearer to the singing," said the younger sister.
They went a little way from the house, sat down, and listened. Again
they stood up and went on. Two or three times they did this, going
farther and farther. Soon they came in sight of a salmon trap and went
up to it.
"I see no one here," said each of the sisters. "Who can be singing?"
They looked on all sides of the trap and saw no one. They looked up
and down the river. There was no one in sight. They sat down near the
trap, watched and listened. At last the younger girl saw who was
singing. She saw Hapawila in the river, where he was singing.
When he saw the girls sitting and listening, Hapawila came out to
them.
"Which way are you going?" asked he.
"We heard singing, and came out to listen. That is why we are here,"
answered the elder.
"Let us go home," said the younger.
"Take some of my salmon to your father," said Hapawila; and he gave
them two very nice salmon.
They took the salmon home to their father.
"Where did you get these salmon?" asked Kedila.
"A man who sings and has salmon-traps sent them to you."
That evening Hapawila went to old Kedila's house. The girls saw him
coming and were frightened. They liked his singing, but they did not
like his appearance. They ran away, found a great tree, climbed it,
and thought to spend the night there. But Hapawila tracked them, came
to the foot of the tree, looked up, and saw the two sisters near the
top. He walked around, and looked at the tree.
"Let him come up," said the elder sister, "let him talk a while: we
may like him better if he talks to us."
"No," said the younger sister, "I don't like him; I don't want to talk
with him."
He tried to climb the tree, but could not. The trunk was smooth, and
the tree had no branches except at the top. Now the elder sister fixed
the tree so that he could climb to them; she wished for branches on
the trunk--they were there at once, and Hapawila climbed up to
Kedila's two daughters.
The younger sister was angry at this; hurried down the tree, ran home,
and told her father that her sister and Hapawila were talking to each
other in the tree-top.
Old Kedila said nothing, and went to bed. A few minutes later the
elder sister was at home. She, too, ran from Hapawila when she saw him
the third time.
Early next morning Kedila was very angry. He caught his elder
daughter, thrust her into the fire, burned her, and threw her out of
doors. The younger sister took up her sister's body, and cried
bitterly. After a while she carried it to a spring, crying as she
carried it. She washed her sister's body in the water. It lay one
night in the spring. At daylight next morning the elder sister came
out of the water alive, with all her burns cured and not a sore left
on her.
"Where can we go now? Our father is angry; he will kill us if we go
home," said the younger sister.
Both started west, singing as they travelled.
"I wish that I had a basket with every kind of nice food in it," said
the younger sister toward evening. Soon a basket was right there. It
dropped down in front of her. She looked. There were pine nuts in the
basket, different roots, and nice food to eat.
Now, Jewinna lived in the west. He had a very large sweat-house and
many people. His youngest and only living son he kept wrapped up and
hidden away in a bearskin.
At sunset the two girls came to Jewinna's house, and put down their
basket of roots near the doorway. Jewinna's wife went out and brought
in the two girls. Jewinna himself spread out a bearskin and told the
girls to sit on it. He said to his son, who was wrapped up and hidden
away,--
"Come out and sit down with these two young girls who have come to
us."
The youth looked through a small hole in his bearskin; saw the two
women, but said nothing; didn't come out. When night fell, the two
girls went to sleep. Next morning they rose, washed, dressed, and
combed nicely. Then they went eastward, went toward their father's
house.
Jewinna's son, Jewinpa, came out soon after, swam, dressed, ate, and
followed the two girls. They went very fast, went without stopping;
but Jewinpa caught up and went with them to their father's house.
Kedila was pleased with Jewinpa, and treated both his own daughters
well. He spoke to them as if nothing had happened.
Old Jewinna in the west called all his people and said: "I want you,
my people, to sweat and swim, then come here and listen to me."
After they had done this, Jewinna said: "I am sorry that my son has
gone. I must follow him to-morrow. I don't know why he went. I do not
wish him to go far from this place. Be ready, all of you, and we will
go to-morrow."
Jewinna rose before daylight, called all his people, and said: "I
cannot eat. I am sorry that my son has gone."
All took plenty of arrows and beads and otter-skins and red-headed
woodpecker scalps, and started to follow the young man. As he started,
Jewinna sang,--
"I-no-hó, i-no-hó no-há, i-no-hó!"