Far they journeyed, and as the day quickened they saw before them a
distant high mountain.
Let us hasten, O, sister, my sister!
Thou art weary with travel, my sister;
We will rest in the shade of yon mountain.
I will build you a bower of cedar,
And seek in the cliffs for game-creatures;
And you shall rest happily, sister.
Thus spake he, for he loved his sister and her beauty. (Nay, but she
was soft and beautiful!)
And so, they hastened. When they reached the mountain, Síweluhsiwa
built a bower of cedar branches under the shade of a tree. Then he
went forth to seek game. When, having captured some, he returned, his
sister was sleeping in the bower; so he stepped softly, that he might
not disturb her--for he loved his sister, and gently he sat himself
down before her and leaned his chin on his hand to watch her. The wind
softly blew to and fro, and she slept on; her white cotton mantle and
garments were made light for the journey, and thus the wind played
with them as it listed over her prostrate form. As the brother gazed
at her, he became crazed with love of her, greater than that of a
brother's, greater than that of kin men for kin! * * *
Crazed was he, yea, and bideless of act; and the sister, thus awakened,
fled from him in loud affright, and then, in shame and hot anger
turning, upbraided him fiercely. Wondrous beings were they, more than
it is the lot of mere men in these days to be, for they were the
children of Kâ´wimosa the priest, and a priestess-mother in the times
of creation and newness. And so, like to the surpassing ones, they were
_‘hlímnawiho_, or changeable-by-will inclined; yea, and all things were
_k‘yaíyuna_ or formative, when the world was new! Lo, now! Therefore,
as she upbraided him, her eyes grew great and glaring and her face
spotted and drawn. And he, as he heard and saw her, grew dazed, and
stood senseless before her, his head bowed, his eyes red and swollen,
his brow bent and burning.
"Thou shameless of men!" cried the maiden. "Know that thou shalt
return to thy people never; nay, nor will I! Lo! I will make by mine
the power a deep water dividing this mountain! Alone on one side shalt
thou dwell, alone on the other dwell I! I will draw a line, and make a
swift water between the day-land and the night-land, between all our
people and us!" She stamped with her sandal as she spake, and deep was
the mark thereof; for the mountain was hollow and resounding. Then
she ran headlong down to the westward end of the mountain and drew her
foot along the sands from the south to the northward, and deep was
the gully she made. And the brother, seeing her flee, ran after her
calling hoarsely. But now, as he neared her, he stopped and stared;
and forthwith grew crazed more than ever; but with anguish and fright
this time, at her rage and distortion. As she turned again back, he
threw his arms aloft, and beat his head and temples and tore away his
hair and garments and clutched his eyes and mouth wildly, until great
welts and knobs stood out on his head; his eyes puffed and goggled, his
lips blubbered and puckered; tears and sweat with wet blood bedrenched
his whole person, and he cast himself headlong and rolled in the dust,
until coated with the dun earth of that plain. And when he staggered to
his feet, the red soil adhered to him as skin cleaves to flesh, and his
ugliness hardened.
The maiden stared in wild terror at what she had wrought! And now she,
too, was filled with anguish and shrieked aloud, tossing her arms and
rushing hither and thither, and so great was her grief and despair that
her hair all whitened. Lo! now she lamented plaintively and pitied
her brother, for she thought--woman-like!--"But he loved me!" So, she
tenderly yearned for him now, and ran toward him. Again he looked at
her, for he was crazed, and when he saw her close at hand, so strange
looking and ugly, he laughed aloud, and coarsely, but anon stood still,
with his hands clasped in front of him and his head bowed before him,
dazed! When he laughed, she too laughed; when he was silent and bowed,
she cried and besought him. Thus it was with them ever after in those
days. They talked loudly to each other; they laughed or they cried.
Now they were like silly children, playing on the ground; anon they
were wise as the priests and high beings, and harangued as parents to
children and leaders to people.
The marks in the mountain and sands sank farther and farther; for
much the earth shuddered as was wont in those days. And thus the
mountain was sundered in twain and waters welled up in the midway.
The furrow in the sands ran deeper and deeper and swifter and swifter
with gathering water. Into the nether mountain the pair fled--not
apart--but together, distraught. Ceaselessly echoed their gibberish and
cries across the wide water and from one mountain side to the other.
Thenceforth, together they dwelt in the caves of the place they had
chosen, forgetful of the faces of men and recking naught of their own
ugly condition!