A long time ago a widow lived with her one daughter at the old town of
Kanuga on Pigeon river. The girl was of age to marry, and her mother
used to talk with her a good deal, and tell her she must be sure to
take no one but a good hunter for a husband, so that they would have
some one to take care of them and would always have plenty of meat in
the house. The girl said such a man was hard to find, but her mother
advised her not to be in a hurry, and to wait until the right one came.
Now the mother slept in the house while the girl slept outside in the
âsi. One dark night a stranger came to the âsi wanting to court the
girl, but she told him her mother would let her marry no one but a
good hunter. "Well," said the stranger, "I am a great hunter," so she
let him come in, and he stayed all night. Just before day he said he
must go back now to his own place, but that he had brought some meat
for her mother, and she would find it outside. Then he went away and
the girl had not seen him. When day came she went out and found there
a deer, which she brought into the house to her mother, and told her
it was a present from her new sweetheart. Her mother was pleased,
and they had deersteaks for breakfast.
He came again the next night, but again went away before daylight,
and this time he left two deer outside. The mother was more pleased
this time, but said to her daughter, "I wish your sweetheart would
bring us some wood." Now wherever he might be, the stranger knew
their thoughts, so when he came the next time he said to the girl,
"Tell your mother I have brought the wood"; and when she looked out
in the morning there were several great trees lying in front of the
door, roots and branches and all. The old woman was angry, and said,
"He might have brought us some wood that we could use instead of whole
trees that we can't split, to litter up the road with brush." The
hunter knew what she said, and the next time he came he brought
nothing, and when they looked out in the morning the trees were
gone and there was no wood at all, so the old woman had to go after
some herself.
Almost every night he came to see the girl, and each time he brought a
deer or some other game, but still he always left before daylight. At
last her mother said to her, "Your husband always leaves before
daylight. Why don't he wait? I want to see what kind of a son-in-law
I have." When the girl told this to her husband he said he could not
let the old woman see him, because the sight would frighten her. "She
wants to see you, anyhow," said the girl, and began to cry, until at
last he had to consent, but warned her that her mother must not say
that he looked frightful (usga'se`ti'yu).
The next morning he did not leave so early, but stayed in the âsi,
and when it was daylight the girl went out and told her mother. The
old woman came and looked in, and there she saw a great giant, with
long slanting eyes (tsul`kalû'), lying doubled up on the floor,
with his head against the rafters in the left-hand corner at the
back, and his toes scraping the roof in the right-hand corner by
the door. She gave only one look and ran back to the house, crying,
Usga'se`ti'yu! Usga'se`ti'yu!
Tsul`kalû' was terribly angry. He untwisted himself and came out of
the âsi, and said good-bye to the girl, telling her that he would
never let her mother see him again, but would go back to his own
country. Then he went off in the direction of Tsunegûñ'yi.
Soon after he left the girl had her monthly period. There was a very
great flow of blood, and the mother threw it all into the river. One
night after the girl had gone to bed in the âsi her husband came
again to the door and said to her, "It seems you are alone," and
asked where was the child. She said there had been none. Then he asked
where was the blood, and she said that her mother had thrown it into
the river. She told just where the place was, and he went there and
found a small worm in the water. He took it up and carried it back
to the âsi, and as he walked it took form and began to grow, until,
when he reached the âsi, it was a baby girl that he was carrying. He
gave it to his wife and said, "Your mother does not like me and abuses
our child, so come and let us go to my home." The girl wanted to be
with her husband, so, after telling her mother good-bye, she took up
the child and they went off together to Tsunegûñ'yi.
Now, the girl had an older brother, who lived with his own wife in
another settlement, and when he heard that his sister was married he
came to pay a visit to her and her new husband, but when he arrived
at Kanuga his mother told him his sister had taken her child and gone
away with her husband, nobody knew where. He was sorry to see his
mother so lonely, so he said he would go after his sister and try to
find her and bring her back. It was easy to follow the footprints of
the giant, and the young man went along the trail until he came to
a place where they had rested, and there were tracks on the ground
where a child had been lying and other marks as if a baby had been
born there. He went on along the trail and came to another place where
they had rested, and there were tracks of a baby crawling about and
another lying on the ground. He went on and came to where they had
rested again, and there were tracks of a child walking and another
crawling about. He went on until he came where they had rested again,
and there were tracks of one child running and another walking. Still
he followed the trail along the stream into the mountains, and came
to the place where they had rested again, and this time there were
footprints of two children running all about, and the footprints can
still be seen in the rock at that place.
Twice again he found where they had rested, and then the trail led up
the slope of Tsunegûñ'yi, and he heard the sound of a drum and voices,
as if people were dancing inside the mountain. Soon he came to a cave
like a doorway in the side of the mountain, but the rock was so steep
and smooth that he could not climb up to it, but could only just look
over the edge and see the heads and shoulders of a great many people
dancing inside. He saw his sister dancing among them and called to
her to come out. She turned when she heard his voice, and as soon
as the drumming stopped for a while she came out to him, finding no
trouble to climb down the rock, and leading her two little children
by the hand. She was very glad to meet her brother and talked with
him a long time, but did not ask him to come inside, and at last he
went away without having seen her husband.
Several other times her brother came to the mountain, but always his
sister met him outside, and he could never see her husband. After four
years had passed she came one day to her mother's house and said her
husband had been hunting in the woods near by, and they were getting
ready to start home to-morrow, and if her mother and brother would
come early in the morning they could see her husband. If they came
too late for that, she said, they would find plenty of meat to take
home. She went back into the woods, and the mother ran to tell her
son. They came to the place early the next morning, but Tsul`kalû'
and his family were already gone. On the drying poles they found the
bodies of freshly killed deer hanging, as the girl had promised, and
there were so many that they went back and told all their friends to
come for them, and there were enough for the whole settlement.
Still the brother wanted to see his sister and her husband, so he
went again to the mountain, and she came out to meet him. He asked
to see her husband, and this time she told him to come inside with
her. They went in as through a doorway, and inside he found it like a
great townhouse. They seemed to be alone, but his sister called aloud,
"He wants to see you," and from the air came a voice, "You can not
see me until you put on a new dress, and then you can see me." "I am
willing," said the young man, speaking to the unseen spirit, and from
the air came the voice again, "Go back, then, and tell your people
that to see me they must go into the townhouse and fast seven days,
and in all that time they must not come out from the townhouse or
raise the war whoop, and on the seventh day I shall come with new
dresses for you to put on so that you can all see me."
The young man went back to Kanuga and told the people. They all
wanted to see Tsul`kalû', who owned all the game in the mountains,
so they went into the townhouse and began the fast. They fasted the
first day and the second and every day until the seventh--all but
one man from another settlement, who slipped out every night when
it was dark to get something to eat and slipped in again when no
one was watching. On the morning of the seventh day the sun was just
coming up in the east when they heard a great noise like the thunder
of rocks rolling down the side of Tsunegûñ'yi. They were frightened
and drew near together in the townhouse, and no one whispered. Nearer
and louder came the sound until it grew into an awful roar, and every
one trembled and held his breath--all but one man, the stranger from
the other settlement, who lost his senses from fear and ran out of
the townhouse and shouted the war cry.
At once the roar stopped and for some time there was silence. Then
they heard it again, but as if it were going farther away, and then
farther and farther, until at last it died away in the direction of
Tsunegûñ'yi, and then all was still again. The people came out from
the townhouse, but there was silence, and they could see nothing but
what had been seven days before.
Still the brother was not disheartened, but came again to see his
sister, and she brought him into the mountain. He asked why Tsul`kâlû'
had not brought the new dresses, as he had promised, and the voice
from the air said, "I came with them, but you did not obey my word,
but broke the fast and raised the war cry." The young man answered,
"It was not done by our people, but by a stranger. If you will come
again, we will surely do as you say." But the voice answered, "Now
you can never see me." Then the young man could not say any more,
and he went back to Kanuga.