When I was a boy this is what the old men told me they had heard when
they were boys.
Long years ago, soon after the world was made, a hunter and his wife
lived at Pilot knob with their only child, a little boy. The father's
name was Kana'ti (The Lucky Hunter), and his wife was called Selu
(Corn). No matter when Kana'ti went into the wood, he never failed to
bring back a load of game, which his wife would cut up and prepare,
washing off the blood from the meat in the river near the house. The
little boy used to play down by the river every day, and one morning
the old people thought they heard laughing and talking in the bushes
as though there were two children there. When the boy came home at
night his parents asked him who had been playing with him all day. "He
comes out of the water," said the boy, "and he calls himself my elder
brother. He says his mother was cruel to him and threw him into the
river." Then they knew that the strange boy had sprung from the blood
of the game which Selu had washed off at the river's edge.
Every day when the little boy went out to play the other would join
him, but as he always went back again into the water the old people
never had a chance to see him. At last one evening Kana'ti said
to his son, "Tomorrow, when the other boy comes to play, get him
to wrestle with you, and when you have your arms around him hold
on to him and call for us." The boy promised to do as he was told,
so the next day as soon as his playmate appeared he challenged him
to a wrestling match. The other agreed at once, but as soon as they
had their arms around each other, Kana'ti's boy began to scream for
his father. The old folks at once came running down, and as soon as
the Wild Boy saw them he struggled to free himself and cried out,
"Let me go; you threw me away!" but his brother held on until the
parents reached the spot, when they seized the Wild Boy and took him
home with them. They kept him in the house until they had tamed him,
but he was always wild and artful in his disposition, and was the
leader of his brother in every mischief. It was not long until the
old people discovered that he had magic powers, and they called him
I'nage-utasûñ'hi (He-who-grew-up-wild).
Whenever Kana'ti went into the mountains he always brought back a fat
buck or doe, or maybe a couple of turkeys. One day the Wild Boy said
to his brother, "I wonder where our father gets all that game; let's
follow him next time and find out." A few days afterward Kana'ti took a
bow and some feathers in his hand and started off toward the west. The
boys waited a little while and then went after him, keeping out of
sight until they saw him go into a swamp where there were a great
many of the small reeds that hunters use to make arrowshafts. Then
the Wild Boy changed himself into a puff of bird's down, which the
wind took up and carried until it alighted upon Kana'ti's shoulder
just as he entered the swamp, but Kana'ti knew nothing about it. The
old man cut reeds, fitted the feathers to them and made some arrows,
and the Wild Boy--in his other shape--thought, "I wonder what those
things are for?" When Kana'ti had his arrows finished he came out of
the swamp and went on again. The wind blew the down from his shoulder,
and it fell in the woods, when the Wild Boy took his right shape
again and went back and told his brother what he had seen. Keeping
out of sight of their father, they followed him up the mountain
until he stopped at a certain place and lifted a large rock. At
once there ran out a buck, which Kana'ti shot, and then lifting it
upon his back he started for home again. "Oho!" exclaimed the boys,
"he keeps all the deer shut up in that hole, and whenever he wants
meat he just lets one out and kills it with those things he made in
the swamp." They hurried and reached home before their father, who
had the heavy deer to carry, and he never knew that they had followed.
A few days later the boys went back to the swamp, cut some reeds, and
made seven arrows, and then started up the mountain to where their
father kept the game. When they got to the place, they raised the
rock and a deer came running out. Just as they drew back to shoot it,
another came out, and then another and another, until the boys got
confused and forgot what they were about. In those days all the deer
had their tails hanging down like other animals, but as a buck was
running past the Wild Boy struck its tail with his arrow so that it
pointed upward. The boys thought this good sport, and when the next
one ran past the Wild Boy struck its tail so that it stood straight
up, and his brother struck the next one so hard with his arrow that
the deer's tail was almost curled over his back. The deer carries his
tail this way ever since. The deer came running past until the last one
had come out of the hole and escaped into the forest. Then came droves
of raccoons, rabbits, and all the other four-footed animals--all but
the bear, because there was no bear then. Last came great flocks of
turkeys, pigeons, and partridges that darkened the air like a cloud
and made such a noise with their wings that Kana'ti, sitting at home,
heard the sound like distant thunder on the mountains and said to
himself, "My bad boys have got into trouble; I must go and see what
they are doing."
So he went up the mountain, and when he came to the place where he
kept the game he found the two boys standing by the rock, and all the
birds and animals were gone. Kana'ti was furious, but without saying
a word he went down into the cave and kicked the covers off four jars
in one corner, when out swarmed bedbugs, fleas, lice, and gnats, and
got all over the boys. They screamed with pain and fright and tried to
beat off the insects, but the thousands of vermin crawled over them
and bit and stung them until both dropped down nearly dead. Kana'ti
stood looking on until he thought they had been punished enough, when
he knocked off the vermin and made the boys a talk. "Now, you rascals,"
said he, "you have always had plenty to eat and never had to work for
it. Whenever you were hungry all I had to do was to come up here and
get a deer or a turkey and bring it home for your mother to cook;
but now you have let out all the animals, and after this when you
want a deer to eat you will have to hunt all over the woods for it,
and then maybe not find one. Go home now to your mother, while I see
if I can find something to eat for supper."
When the boys got home again they were very tired and hungry and asked
their mother for something to eat. "There is no meat," said Selu,
"but wait a little while and I'll get you something." So she took a
basket and started out to the storehouse. This storehouse was built
upon poles high up from the ground, to keep it out of the reach of
animals, and there was a ladder to climb up by, and one door, but no
other opening. Every day when Selu got ready to cook the dinner she
would go out to the storehouse with a basket and bring it back full
of corn and beans. The boys had never been inside the storehouse,
so wondered where all the corn and beans could come from, as the
house was not a very large one; so as soon as Selu went out of the
door the Wild Boy said to his brother, "Let's go and see what she
does." They ran around and climbed up at the back of the storehouse
and pulled out a piece of clay from between the logs, so that they
could look in. There they saw Selu standing in the middle of the
room with the basket in front of her on the floor. Leaning over the
basket, she rubbed her stomach--so--and the basket was half full
of corn. Then she rubbed under her armpits--so--and the basket was
full to the top with beans. The boys looked at each other and said,
"This will never do; our mother is a witch. If we eat any of that it
will poison us. We must kill her."
When the boys came back into the house, she knew their thoughts before
they spoke. "So you are going to kill me?" said Selu. "Yes," said the
boys, "you are a witch." "Well," said their mother, "when you have
killed me, clear a large piece of ground in front of the house and
drag my body seven times around the circle. Then drag me seven times
over the ground inside the circle, and stay up all night and watch,
and in the morning you will have plenty of corn." The boys killed her
with their clubs, and cut off her head and put it up on the roof of
the house with her face turned to the west, and told her to look for
her husband. Then they set to work to clear the ground in front of
the house, but instead of clearing the whole piece they cleared only
seven little spots. This is why corn now grows only in a few places
instead of over the whole world. They dragged the body of Selu around
the circle, and wherever her blood fell on the ground the corn sprang
up. But instead of dragging her body seven times across the ground
they dragged it over only twice, which is the reason the Indians still
work their crop but twice. The two brothers sat up and watched their
corn all night, and in the morning it was full grown and ripe.
When Kana'ti came home at last, he looked around, but could not see
Selu anywhere, and asked the boys where was their mother. "She was
a witch, and we killed her," said the boys; "there is her head up
there on top of the house." When he saw his wife's head on the roof,
he was very angry, and said, "I won't stay with you any longer; I am
going to the Wolf people." So he started off, but before he had gone
far the Wild Boy changed himself again to a tuft of down, which fell
on Kana'ti's shoulder. When Kana'ti reached the settlement of the
Wolf people, they were holding a council in the townhouse. He went
in and sat down with the tuft of bird's down on his shoulder, but he
never noticed it. When the Wolf chief asked him his business, he said:
"I have two bad boys at home, and I want you to go in seven days from
now and play ball against them." Although Kana'ti spoke as though he
wanted them to play a game of ball, the Wolves knew that he meant for
them to go and kill the two boys. They promised to go. Then the bird's
down blew off from Kana'ti's shoulder, and the smoke carried it up
through the hole in the roof of the townhouse. When it came down on
the ground outside, the Wild Boy took his right shape again and went
home and told his brother all that he had heard in the townhouse. But
when Kana'ti left the Wolf people he did not return home, but went
on farther.
The boys then began to get ready for the Wolves, and the Wild Boy--the
magician--told his brother what to do. They ran around the house in
a wide circle until they had made a trail all around it excepting on
the side from which the Wolves would come, where they left a small
open space. Then they made four large bundles of arrows and placed
them at four different points on the outside of the circle, after
which they hid themselves in the woods and waited for the Wolves. In
a day or two a whole party of Wolves came and surrounded the house to
kill the boys. The Wolves did not notice the trail around the house,
because they came in where the boys had left the opening, but the
moment they went inside the circle the trail changed to a high brush
fence and shut them in. Then the boys on the outside took their arrows
and began shooting them down, and as the Wolves could not jump over the
fence they were all killed, excepting a few that escaped through the
opening into a great swamp close by. The boys ran around the swamp,
and a circle of fire sprang up in their tracks and set fire to the
grass and bushes and burned up nearly all the other Wolves. Only two
or three got away, and from these have come all the wolves that are
now in the world.
Soon afterward some strangers from a distance, who had heard that
the brothers had a wonderful grain from which they made bread, came
to ask for some, for none but Selu and her family had ever known corn
before. The boys gave them seven grains of corn, which they told them
to plant the next night on their way home, sitting up all night to
watch the corn, which would have seven ripe ears in the morning. These
they were to plant the next night and watch in the same way, and so
on every night until they reached home, when they would have corn
enough to supply the whole people. The strangers lived seven days'
journey away. They took the seven grains and watched all through
the darkness until morning, when they saw seven tall stalks, each
stalk bearing a ripened ear. They gathered the ears and went on their
way. The next night they planted all their corn, and guarded it as
before until daybreak, when they found an abundant increase. But the
way was long and the sun was hot, and the people grew tired. On the
last night before reaching home they fell asleep, and in the morning
the corn they had planted had not even sprouted. They brought with
them to their settlement what corn they had left and planted it,
and with care and attention were able to raise a crop. But ever
since the corn must be watched and tended through half the year,
which before would grow and ripen in a night.
As Kana'ti did not return, the boys at last concluded to go and
find him. The Wild Boy took a gaming wheel and rolled it toward the
Darkening land. In a little while the wheel came rolling back, and
the boys knew their father was not there. He rolled it to the south
and to the north, and each time the wheel came back to him, and they
knew their father was not there. Then he rolled it toward the Sunland,
and it did not return. "Our father is there," said the Wild Boy,
"let us go and find him." So the two brothers set off toward the east,
and after traveling a long time they came upon Kana'ti walking along
with a little dog by his side. "You bad boys," said their father,
"have you come here?" "Yes," they answered, "we always accomplish what
we start out to do--we are men." "This dog overtook me four days ago,"
then said Kana'ti, but the boys knew that the dog was the wheel which
they had sent after him to find him. "Well," said Kana'ti, "as you have
found me, we may as well travel together, but I shall take the lead."
Soon they came to a swamp, and Kana'ti told them there was something
dangerous there and they must keep away from it. He went on ahead,
but as soon as he was out of sight the Wild Boy said to his brother,
"Come and let us see what is in the swamp." They went in together, and
in the middle of the swamp they found a large panther asleep. The Wild
Boy got out an arrow and shot the panther in the side of the head. The
panther turned his head and the other boy shot him on that side. He
turned his head away again and the two brothers shot together--tust,
tust, tust! But the panther was not hurt by the arrows and paid no more
attention to the boys. They came out of the swamp and soon overtook
Kana'ti, waiting for them. "Did you find it?" asked Kana'ti. "Yes,"
said the boys, "we found it, but it never hurt us. We are men." Kana'ti
was surprised, but said nothing, and they went on again.
After a while he turned to them and said, "Now you must be careful. We
are coming to a tribe called the Anada'dûñtaski ("Roasters," i. e.,
cannibals), and if they get you they will put you into a pot and feast
on you." Then he went on ahead. Soon the boys came to a tree which
had been struck by lightning, and the Wild Boy directed his brother to
gather some of the splinters from the tree and told him what to do with
them. In a little while they came to the settlement of the cannibals,
who, as soon as they saw the boys, came running out, crying, "Good,
here are two nice fat strangers. Now we'll have a grand feast!" They
caught the boys and dragged them into the townhouse, and sent word
to all the people of the settlement to come to the feast. They made
up a great fire, put water into a large pot and set it to boiling,
and then seized the Wild Boy and put him down into it. His brother
was not in the least frightened and made no attempt to escape, but
quietly knelt down and began putting the splinters into the fire,
as if to make it burn better. When the cannibals thought the meat
was about ready they lifted the pot from the fire, and that instant
a blinding light filled the townhouse, and the lightning began to
dart from one side to the other, striking down the cannibals until
not one of them was left alive. Then the lightning went up through
the smoke-hole, and the next moment there were the two boys standing
outside the townhouse as though nothing had happened. They went on and
soon met Kana'ti, who seemed much surprised to see them, and said,
"What! are you here again?" "O, yes, we never give up. We are great
men!" "What did the cannibals do to you?" "We met them and they brought
us to their townhouse, but they never hurt us." Kana'ti said nothing
more, and they went on.
He soon got out of sight of the boys, but they kept on until they
came to the end of the world, where the sun comes out. The sky was
just coming down when they got there, but they waited until it went
up again, and then they went through and climbed up on the other
side. There they found Kana'ti and Selu sitting together. The old
folk received them kindly and were glad to see them, telling them
they might stay there a while, but then they must go to live where
the sun goes down. The boys stayed with their parents seven days and
then went on toward the Darkening land, where they are now. We call
them Anisga'ya Tsunsdi' (The Little Men), and when they talk to each
other we hear low rolling thunder in the west.
After Kana'ti's boys had let the deer out from the cave where their
father used to keep them, the hunters tramped about in the woods for
a long time without finding any game, so that the people were very
hungry. At last they heard that the Thunder Boys were now living in
the far west, beyond the sun door, and that if they were sent for
they could bring back the game. So they sent messengers for them,
and the boys came and sat down in the middle of the townhouse and
began to sing.
At the first song there was a roaring sound like a strong wind in
the northwest, and it grew louder and nearer as the boys sang on,
until at the seventh song a whole herd of deer, led by a large buck,
came out from the woods. The boys had told the people to be ready with
their bows and arrows, and when the song was ended and all the deer
were close around the townhouse, the hunters shot into them and killed
as many as they needed before the herd could get back into the timber.
Then the Thunder Boys went back to the Darkening land, but before they
left they taught the people the seven songs with which to call up the
deer. It all happened so long ago that the songs are now forgotten--all
but two, which the hunters still sing whenever they go after deer.