"We are the People of Seed," said these strangers, replying to our
fathers of old, "born elder brothers of ye, and led of the gods!"
"Nay," contended our fathers, "verily, we are led of the gods and of us
are the Seed people and the substance of seed whereof our wise elders
carry the potencies." Whereupon they grew yet more angry, so dark were
they of understanding!
The people who called themselves "Of the Seed"--who were none others
than the "Drinkers of the Dew of Grasses"--bade them pause. "Behold!"
said they, "we have powers above yours, yet without your aid we can not
exert them; even as the mothers of men may not be fertile save of the
fathers. Ye are our younger brothers, for verily so are _your_ People
of Seed, and more precious than they know, are they and their sacred
keepings, ye--unwittingly, alack!--so boast of; even as we are more
wise than ye are and in ourselves quickening withal, for ye are, like
virgins, unthinking, yet fertile. Now go to! Let us look peacefully
upon one another. Do ye, therefore, try first your powers with the
sacred things ye carry according as ye have been instructed or may best
devise; then will we according to our knowledge of these things and our
own practices try our powers with them also, showing forth our customs
unto you."
At last, after much wrangling and council, the people agreed to this.
And they set apart the time, eight days (as now days are numbered)
wherein to make their preparations, which was well; for therefrom
resulted to them great gain, yea, and the winning of these stranger
villagers, and by wise and peaceful acts rather than by war and the
impetuosity of right hands. In the borders of the plain in the midst
of cedars (fuel furnishers of the food-maturing fire, these!) and
under the shade of Hemlocks (Tree-goddesses of the food-growing water,
these!) they encamped. And at the foot of the Hemlocks, facing the
sunlight, they builded them of cedar boughs a great bower: like to it,
only lesser, are those whence we watch and foster the ripening of our
corn; for from their bower thus fashioned, our fathers and mothers, the
priests and priest-matrons of old, watched and labored for the first
birth of corn, and in this wondrous wise, as young parents watch for
the birth of their children, though not knowing of what kind or favor
they will be, nevertheless expectantly of heart; and as we now watch
the fulfilment of our harvests.
So, the seed-priests and master-keepers of the possessions, and their
fathers (those of the house of houses) fasted and intently contemplated
their sacred substances to divine the means thereof. And it seemed good
to them to cut wands of the spaces, painting them significantly and
pluming them in various ways with the feathers of the cloud and summer
sun-loving birds (Ólowik‘ya Wówe Pékwi Áshiwani), thinking thereby
to waft the breath of their prayers and incantations (taught of the
Surpassing Ones all in the new time of the world) and to show forth
their meanings even so far as unto the ancient sitting spaces of those
who first taught them.
When all else was prepared, they made a shrine around their _múetone_
(or medicine seed of hail and soil) their _k‘yáetone_ (or medicine
seed of the water and rain) and their _chúetone_ (or medicine seed
of grains). And around these, and reaching out toward the Sun before
them, they set their plumed wands of message. For the plain was dry
and barren, and they wanted fresh soil by the hail torrents, moisture
by the rain, and growth of seed-substance, that they might the better
exhibit their powers to these strangers; if perchance, in response to
their labors and beseechings, these things would be vouchsafed them.
Therefore, that the meaning of their beseechings might be the more
plain and sure of favor, certain ones of the sage priests, sought out
and placed the largest and most beautifully colored grass seeds they
could find among the stores of their way-farings, in the gourd with the
_chúetone_, and then cut from branches of the easy growing cottonwood
and willow, gleaned from the ways of water, goodly wands which they
plumed and painted, like in color to each kind of seed they had
selected; yellow, green, red, white, black, speckled, and mottled; one
for each side of the sacred gourd, one to be laid upon it, one to be
laid under it, and one to be placed within it; and as soon as finished,
thus they disposed the wands.
Now when night came, these master-priests took the _chúetone_--all
secretly, whilst the others were drowsy--and carried it, with the
plumed wands they had made, out into the plain, in front of the bower.
There they breathed into these things the prayers and over them softly
intoned the incantations which had been taught them in the new time of
the world. Then they placed the _chúetone_ on the ground of the plain
and on each side of it, by the light of the seven great stars which
were at that time rising bright above them, they planted one of the
plumed wands with the seeds of its color; first, the brightest, yellow
with the yellow grass seeds, on the north; then the blue with the green
grass seeds, on the west; then the red with the red seeds, to the
south, and the white with the white seeds to the east; but the other
three plumed wands they could not plant, one above, the other below,
and the last within the gourd; so looking at the stars they saw how
that they were set, four of them as though around a gourd like their
own, and three others as though along its handle! "_Há! Chukwé!_" said
they. "'Tis a sign, mayhap, of the Sky-father!" whereupon they set each
of the others in a line, the black one with its seeds of black, nearest
to the sacred gourd below the handle; the speckled one with its spotted
seeds next, on the other side of the handle, and the mottled one with
its dappled seeds far out at the end of the handle, that it might
(being of the colors of all the others) point out each of them, as it
were, and lead them all!
And when, on the morrow, the watchers saw the plumes standing there
all beautiful in the plain, and asked who planted them, and for what,
the priests replied, "Verily they were planted in the night, while
ye heedlessly drowsed, by the seven stars." Thereat the people,
mistaking their meaning, exclaimed, "Behold! the seed wands of the
stars themselves!" and they joyed in the omen that their prayers had
been heard so far. And lo! during the eight days and nights there
arose thick mists, hail and rain descended until torrents poured down
from the mountains bringing new soil and spreading it evenly over the
plain. And when on the morning of the ninth day the clouds rolled away,
"_Eluu!_" shouted our fathers of the Seed kin to the stranger people;
"Water and new soil bring we, where erst was barren hardness; yea, even
grasses, tall and plumed as were our wands, and spiked with seed, for
the grass seed had sprouted and the new wands taken root and grown, and
now had long feathery blades and tall, tasseled stems, waving in the
wind."
"Yea, verily!" cried the People of the First-growing-grass kin
(Aik‘yaho-kwe), chief of the clans of Seed, "we _are_ the People of the
Seed!"
But the strangers, heeding not their boastings, replied, "Yea, verily,
enough! It is well! Truly water and new soil ye have brought, and
grasses growing great therefrom, yet ye have not brought forth new life
therefor of the flesh of men or the seed of seeds! Come now, let us
labor together, in order that what ye have begun may be perfected. New
soil and the seed of its production, the seed of water, yea even the
substance of seed itself we had not, yet of the seed of seed we are
verily the people, and our maidens are the mothers thereof, as ye shall
see."
Then they, too, set apart eight days, during which to prepare for
their custom, and they further said, "That we may be perfect in the
plenishing and generation of the seed of seeds, send us forth, O, ye
comers, a youth of the kin of Water and of those who hold possession of
the precious _k‘yáetone_, which give unto us likewise, that we join it
to the _chúetone_ ye have placed in the midst of the growing plants,
according to our understanding of its meaning and relation. And let the
youth be goodly and perfect and whole of seed."
Therefore the fathers of the people chose forth, it is said,
Yápotuluha, of the clans of Water, foster child of the great
Sun-priest Yanáuluha, and named of him. And into his hand they gave
the _k‘yáetone_ and certain of their wands of worship, and sent him
to the strangers glorious to look upon. Now there were in the village
of the stranger Seed people seven maidens, sisters of one another,
virgins of one house, and foster children of Paíyatuma (the God of
Dew) himself. And they were surpassingly beautiful, insomuch so that
they were likened to the seven bright stars and are sung of in the
songs of the Seed people and told of in their stories. They, too, were
chosen and breathed upon by all the fathers and matrons of the Seed,
and with the youth Yápotuluha, instructed in the precious rites and
incantations of their custom. And during all the time of preparation
rain fell as before, only gently and warm, and on the eighth day the
matrons and fathers led the maidens and youth, all beautifully arrayed,
down into the plain before the bower where watched the people and grew
the grasses. And there they danced and were breathed of the sacred
medicine seeds. All through the night backward and forward danced they
to the song line of the elders, and in accordance therewith by the side
of the growing plants, motioning them upward with their magic wands
and plumes, as we, with implements of husbandry, encourage the growth
upward of the corn plants today. As time went on, the matron of the
dance led the youth and the first maiden apart, and they grasped, one
on either side, the first plants, dancing around them, gently drawing
them upward as they went, even as the Two Beloved had caused to grow
the canes of the under-world. So also did the youth and each maiden in
turn grasp the other plants in their turn, until all had grown to the
tallness of themselves and were jointed where they had grasped them;
yea, and leaved as with waving plumes of the macaw himself. And now, in
the night, the keepers of the great shells (of the Badger kin), brought
forth fire with their hands from roots, and kindled it in front of the
bower toward the east, that its heat might take the place of the Sun
and its light shine brightly on the dancers, making their acts verily
alive; and as the dawn approached, the youth and first maiden were led
apart as before by the Mother-making matron, and together embraced the
first of the full grown plants, and so, in turn, the youth and each of
the other maidens embraced the other plants.
And as they embraced the first plant, the fire flamed brightly, with
the first catching and flush of the wood, and yellow was its light;
and as they embraced the second plant, the flames were burning smokily
with the fuller grasping of the wood, and blue was the light; and as
they were embracing the third plant, the fire reached its fullness
of mastery over the wood, and red was its light; and as they were
embracing the fourth plant, the fire was fumeless and triumphant over
the wood, and white was its light; and as they were embracing the fifth
plant, the fire gave up its breath in clouds of sparks, and streaked,
of many colors, was its light; and as they were embracing the sixth
plant, the fire swooned and slept, giving more heat, as 'twere, than
light, thus somber was the light, yet, as they were embracing the
seventh plant, it wakened afresh, did the fire, in the wind of the
morning, and glowed as does the late fire of the wanderer, with a light
of _all_ the colors.
Now, when the day dawned, lo! where the mid-persons of the youth and
the maidens had touched most unitedly and warmly the plants, new parts
appeared to the beholders, showing, through their coverings, many
colors, soft hair shrouding them, as if to make precious their beauty.
Whilst the people still gazed at these, wondering, out from the
Eastland came Paíyatuma and Ténatsali of the All-colored flowers (God
of the Seasons), followed by Kwélele with his flame-potent fire-wand.
Paíyatuma touched the plants with the refreshing breath of his flute;
Ténatsali with the flesh-renewing breath of his flowers; Kwélele, with
the ripening breath of his torch, whereby the new parts were hardened,
some to fruitfulness; others, being too closely touched, burned to the
very heat of generative warmth, unfruitful in itself, but fruitful
making! Then, as Paíyatuma waved his flute, lo! following Ténatsali,
the maidens and the attendant Kwélele went forth and disappeared in the
mist of the morning. As they vanished, Paíyatuma turned to where, full
in the light of the rising sun, stood the seven plants. Lithe and tall
stood he there beside them like a far journeyer, and said to the awed
watchers:
Lo! ye children of men and the Mother,
Ye Brothers of Seed,
Elder, younger,
Behold the _seed plants of all seeds_!
The grass-seeds ye planted, in secret,
Were seen of the stars and the regions,
Are shown in the forms of these tassels!
The plumes that ye planted beside them
Were felt in the far away spaces,
Are shown in the forms of their leaf-blades!
But the seed that ye see growing from them,
Is the gift of my seven bright maidens,
The stars of the house of my children!
Look well, that ye cherish their persons,
Nor change ye the gift of their being,--
As fertile of flesh for all men
To the bearing of children for men,--
Lest ye lose them, to seek them in vain!
Be ye brothers ye people, and people;
Be ye happy ye Priests of the Corn!
Lo! the seed of all seed-plants is born!
As the people eagerly looked, the mists of the morning were seen to be
clearing away, and gone within them, even as his voice, was Paíyatuma!
"Thanks this day," together said the fathers and their people, as they
looked upon the plants before them, then at the stranger people.
"Verily, ye are our elder brothers, and as children and sisters, yea
as our very mothers, will we cherish thy maidens and the substance of
their flesh!"
"Yea," replied these other Seed people, "eating thereof, ye shall
become in very truth our younger brothers! For even as the father hath
said, these be the product of our hands joined with thine in labor,
and of our hearts joined with thine in sacred thought." Then the
ancient of the People of Dew stood in place of Paíyatuma, and spake:
Behold the fulfilment of work ye began!
Ears fully gifted with fruitage of kernels
By the warmth of our maidens
In embrace with your Rain youth;
The seed of their persons
All wrapped in soft garments
And draped with the hair
Of their full generation;
All proportioned and formed
By the touch of the Dew God;
Made complete and mature
By the touch of the Time God;
Ripened fully, as food,
By the touch of the Fire God!
First, yet last of them all
Is the plant of the Middle--
With its seven-fold kernels
And hues of the embers--
Is the corn of all regions,
The Í-to-pa-nah-na-kwe!
Yet the earliest quickened
By the eldest Corn maiden,
Is the corn of the North land;
Made yellow by flame-light,--
The hue of the North sky
Seen in winter or gloaming,--
Is the strong ‘Hlúp-tsi-kwa-kwe!
Then the corn of the West land
By the next sister quickened,--
Made blue by the smoke-light,--
Is hued like the ocean
Or shadows of evening,--
The rich ‘Hlí-a-kwa-kwe!
Next, the corn of the South land,
By the third sister quickened,
Is red, like the flowers
And fruitage of summer--
Made so by the brand-light--
Is the sweet Shí-k‘ya-na-kwe!
Next the corn of the East land
The fourth sister quickened,
Is white, like the milk
Which we drink in the morning
Of life; like the light
Of the dawning each morning--
Made so by full fire-light--
Is the pure K’ó-ha-kwa-kwe!
Next, the corn of the Zenith,
The fifth sister quickened,
Is streaked like the sky
With the clouds and the rainbow--
Made so by the spark-light--
Is the hard K’ú-chu-a-kwe!
And next is the corn of
The dark Lower regions
The sixth sister quickened;
Is black like the depth of
The earth it emerged from--
Made so by the heat-light--
Is the soft Kwí-ni-kwa-kwe!
Last, as first, is the Mid-most,
Quickened first by the seventh
Of all the Corn maidens;
Bearing grains of each color--
Made so by the embers--
And seed of them all,
Hence, the Tém-‘hla-nah-na-k‘ya,
Í-to-pa-nah-na-kwe!
"Thus, of the substance of all flesh is the seed of seeds, Corn! And
suited to all peoples and places; yet we, brothers younger are with
ye, favored in the light, in that together we are its priests and
keepers. Let us therefore love it and cherish it, as we cherish and
love our women; and it shall be the giver of milk to the youthful and
of flesh to the aged, as our women folk are the givers of life to our
youth and the sustainers of life in our age; for of the mother-milk of
the Beloved Maidens it is filled, and of their flesh the substance.
Eating thereof, thy youth shall grow strong and handsome, thy maidens
beautiful and fruitful, even as are themselves, the Beloved Maidens,
our mothers and thine!"
"Be it well!" said the fathers. "Brothers younger to ye, let us indeed
be, and let us, therefore, clasp the warm hands of brothers elder and
brothers younger, making the words of the Father of Dawn true, in
truth!"
Then the ancient of the People of the Dew replied:
It is well, brothers younger!
Dwell in peace by our firesides.
Guard the seed of our maidens,
Each kind as ye see it,
Apart from the others.
And by lovingly toiling,
As by toiling and loving,
Men win the full favor
And hearts of their maidens,
So, from year unto year
Shall ye win by your watching,
And power of beseeching,
And care for the corn-flesh,
The favor and plenish
Of our seven Corn maidens.
They shall dance for the increase
And strength of the corn-seed,
Of each grain, making many--
Each grain that ye nourish
With new soil and water!
For long, ere ye found us,
We afar sought for water,
Drinking dew from our father,
Like deer, on the mountains!
And for long ere ye found us
Ye wandered in hunger,
Seeking seed of the grasses,
Like birds on the mesas.
Thus, 'tis well, brothers younger,
That ye dwell by our firesides!
Thus, happily were our fathers joined to the People of the Dew, and
the many houses on the hills were now builded together in the plain
where first grew the corn plants abundantly; being prepared year after
year by the beautiful custom of the ever young maidens, and attended
faithfully by the labors of the people and the vigils of their fathers.