her his name. "I have no name," he replied. Three times he answered
her thus. When she asked for the fourth time he said: "Why do you
wish to know my name? I have two names. I am Nati'nesthani, He Who
Teaches Himself, and I am Áhodiseli, He Who Has Floated. Now that I
have told you my name you must tell me your father's name." "He is
called Píniltani, Deer Raiser. I am Píniltani-bitsí, Deer Raiser's
Daughter, and my mother is Píniltani-baád, She Deer Raiser," the
young woman answered.
525. In the morning after this conversation they had a breakfast of
mush and venison; but Nati'nesthani received no warning from the Wind
People and feared not to eat. When the meal was over, the young woman
said to her husband: "My father has told me that, as you have shown
me your farm, I may now show you his farm. If you wish to go there,
you must first bathe your body in yucca-suds and then rinse off in
pure water." After he had taken his bath as directed he picked up
his old sandals and was about to put them on when she stopped him,
saying: "No. You wore your own clothes when you went to your own
farm. Now you must wear our clothes when you come to our farm." She
gave him embroidered moccasins; fringed buckskin leggings; a buckskin
shirt, dyed yellow, beautifully embroidered with porcupine quills,
and fringed with stripes of otter-skin; and a headdress adorned with
artificial ears called Tsáhadolkohi--they wore such in the old days,
and there are men still living who have seen them worn.
526. Dressed in these fine garments he set out with his wife and
they travelled toward the southeast. As they were passing the other
hut she bade him wait outside while she went in to procure a wand
of turquoise. They went but a short distance (about three hundred
yards)[233] when they came, on the top of a small hill, to a large,
smooth stone, adorned with turquoise, sticking in the ground like
a stopple in a water-jar. She touched this rock stopple with her
wand in four different directions--east, south, west, north--and it
sprang up out of the ground. She touched it in an upward direction,
and it lay over on its side, revealing a hole which led to a flight
of four stone steps.
527. She entered the hole and beckoned to him to follow. When they
descended the steps they found themselves in a square apartment with
four doors of rock crystal, one on each side. There was a rainbow over
each door. With her wand she struck the eastern door and it flew open,
disclosing a vast and beautiful country, like this world, but more
beautiful. How vast it was the Navaho knew not, for he could not see
the end of it. They passed through the door. The land was filled
with deer and covered with beautiful flowers. The air was filled
with the odor of pollen and the odor of fragrant blossoms. Birds
of the most beautiful plumage were flying in the air, perching on
the flowers, and building nests in the antlers of the deer. In the
distance a light shower of rain was falling, and rainbows shone in
every direction. "This, then, is the farm of my father-in-law which
you promised to show me," said the Navaho. "It is beautiful; but in
truth it is no farm, for I see nothing planted here." She took him
into three other apartments. They were all as beautiful as the first,
but they contained different animals. In the apartment to the south
there were antelope; in that to the west, Rocky Mountain sheep;
in that to the north, elk.
528. When they closed the last door and came out to the central
apartment they found Deer Raiser there. "Has my son-in-law been in
all the rooms and seen all the game?" he asked. "I have seen all,"
said Nati'nesthani. "Do you see two sacrificial cigarettes of the
deer above the rainbow over the eastern door?" "I see them now,"
responded the Navaho, "but I did not notice them when I entered." The
old man then showed him, over the door in the south, two cigarettes of
the antelope; over the door in the west, two cigarettes of the Rocky
Mountain sheep; over the door in the north, the single white cigarette
of Hastséyalti[234] (the elk had no cigarette), and at the bottom of
the steps by which they had entered, two cigarettes of the fawn. "Look
well at these cigarettes," said the old man, "and remember how they
are painted, for such we now sacrifice in our ceremonies." "Are you
pleased?" "Do you admire what you have seen?" "What do you think of
it all?" Such were the questions the old man asked, and the Navaho
made answer: "I thank you. I am glad that I have seen your farm and
your pets. Such things I never saw before."
529. "Now, my daughter," said Deer Raiser, "catch a deer for my
son-in-law, that we may have fresh meat." She opened the eastern
door, entered, and caught a big buck by the foot (just as we catch
sheep in these days). She pulled it out. The Navaho walked in front;
the young woman, dragging the buck, came after him, and the old man
came last of all, closing the doors and putting in the stopple as he
came. They brought the buck home, tied its legs together with short
rainbows, cut its throat with a stone arrow point, and skinned it as
we now skin deer.
530. Now Deer Raiser began again to plot the death of his
son-in-law. He found he could not poison him, so he determined to
try another plan. In a neighboring canyon, to which there was but one
entrance, he kept four fierce pet bears. He determined to invite his
son-in-law out to hunt with him, and get him killed by these bears. The
rest of that day the Navaho remained at home with his wife, while the
old man took the hoofs of the slain deer and made with them a lot of
tracks leading into the canyon of the bears.
531. On the following morning, while the young woman was cooking in
the other lodge, Deer Raiser came in where the Navaho sat and said:
"My son-in-law, four of my pet deer have escaped from the farm. I have
tracked them to a canyon near by, which has only one entrance. As
soon as you have eaten I want you to help me to hunt them. You will
stand at the entrance of the canyon while I go in to drive the deer
toward you, and you can kill them as they come out. No," said the
old man after pausing for a while and pretending to think, "you must
go into the canyon, my son-in-law, while I stay at the entrance and
kill the deer. That will be better." When about to start on his hunt,
the Wind People whispered to the Navaho: "Do not enter the canyon."
532. The two men walked along the steep side of the valley, following
the tracks until they came to the high rugged cliffs that marked
the entrance to the canyon. "When my deer escape, here is where
they usually come," said Deer Raiser. A little stream of water ran
out of the canyon, and here the old man had raised a dam to make a
pool. When they reached the pool he said: "Here I shall stop to shoot
the deer. Go you in and drive them out for me." "No, I fear the deer
will pass me," said Nati'nesthani. Four times these words were said by
both. At last the old man, seeing that his companion was obstinate,
said: "Stay here, then, but do not let the deer escape you, and do
not climb the hillsides around for fear the deer should see you,"
and he went himself into the canyon. In spite of all the warnings he
had received, Nati'nesthani climbed a rocky eminence where he could
watch and be out of danger. After waiting a while in silence he heard
a distant cry like that of a wolf,[235] woo-oo-oo-oo, and became
aware that something was moving toward him through the brush. He
soon descried four bears walking down the canyon in single file,
about thirty paces apart, alternately a female and a male. The old
man had probably told them there was some one for them to kill, for
they advanced with hair bristling, snouts up, and teeth showing. When
he saw them coming he said, "I am Nayénezgani. I am Hastséyalti. I
am Sasnalkáhi. I am a god of bears," and he mentioned the names of
other potent gods. As the bears were passing their hidden enemy he
drew arrow after arrow to the head and slew them all, one by one. He
killed them as they walked along a ledge of rock, and their bodies
tumbled down on the other side of the ledge, where they were hidden
from view. Soon the voice of the old man was heard in the distance
crying: "Oh, my pets! Oh, Tsananaí! Oh, Tse'skodi! (for the bears
had names).[236] Save a piece for me! Save a piece for me!" And a
little later he came in sight, running and panting. He did not see
his son-in-law till he was right beside him. He showed at once that he
was surprised and angry, but he quickly tried to make it appear that
he was angry from another cause. "I should have been here. You have
let them run by," he cried in angry tones. "Oh, no," said the Navaho,
"I have not let them run by. I have killed them. Look over the ledge
and you will see them." The old man looked as he was told, and was
struck dumb with astonishment and sorrow. He sat down in silence,
with his head hanging between his knees, and gazed at the bodies of
his dead pets. He did not even thank his son-in-law.[237]
533. Why did Deer Raiser seek the life of his son-in-law? Now
Nati'nesthani knew, and now you shall know. The old man was a
diné`yiani, or man-eater, and a wizard. He wanted the flesh of the
Navaho to eat, and he wanted parts of the dead body to use in the
rites of witchcraft. But there was yet another reason; he was jealous
of the Navaho, for those who practise witchcraft practise also incest.
534. "Why did you shoot them?" said the old man at last; "the deer
went out before them. Why did you not shoot the deer? Now you may skin
the bears." "You never drove deer to me," said the Navaho. "These are
what you drove to me. When a companion in the hunt drives anything
to me I kill it, no matter what it is. You have talked much to me
about hunting with you. Now I have killed game and you must skin
it." "Help me, then, to skin it," said Deer Raiser. "No. I never skin
the game I kill myself.[238] You must do the skinning. I killed for
you," said the Navaho. "If you will not help me," said the old man,
"go back to the house and tell my daughter to come and assist me to
skin the bears. Go back by the way we came when we trailed the deer."
535. Nati'nesthani set off as the Deer Raiser had directed him. As
soon as he was out of sight the old man rushed for the house by a
short cut. Reaching home, he hastily dressed himself in the skin of
a great serpent, went to the trail which his son-in-law was to take,
and lay in ambush behind a log at a place where the path led through
a narrow defile. As the Navaho approached the log the Wind People
told him: "Your father-in-law awaits you behind the log." The Navaho
peeped over the log before he got too near, and saw Deer Raiser in
his snake-skin suit, swaying uneasily back and forth, poising himself
as if preparing to spring. When he saw the young man looking in his
direction he crouched low. "What are you doing there?" called the
Navaho (in a way which let Deer Raiser know he was recognized),[239]
and he drew an arrow on the old man. "Stop! stop!" cried the latter. "I
only came here to meet you and hurry you up." "Why do you not come
from behind, if that is so? Why do you come from before me and hide
beside my path?" said the Navaho, and he passed on his way and went
to his wife's house.
536. When Nati'nesthani reached the house he told his wife that he
had killed four animals for his father-in-law, but he did not tell
her what kind of animals they were, and he told her that her father
sent for her mother to help skin the animals and cut up the meat. The
daughter delivered the message to her mother, and the latter went
out to the canyon to help her husband. When Deer Raiser saw his wife
coming he was furious. "It was my daughter I sent for, not you," he
roared. "What sort of a man is he who cannot carry my word straight,
who cannot do as he is told? I bade him tell my daughter, not you,
to come to me." Between them they skinned and dressed the bears and
carried them, one at a time, to his house. He sent to his son-in-law to
know if he wanted some meat, and the Navaho replied that he did not eat
bear meat. When he heard this, Deer Raiser was again furious, and said:
"What manner of a man is this who won't eat meat? (He did not say what
kind of meat.) When we offer him food he says he does not want to eat
it. He never does what he is told to do. We cook food for him and he
refuses it. What can we do to please him? What food will satisfy him?"
537. The next morning after the bears were killed, the young woman
went out as usual, and the old man entered during her absence. He said
to Nati'nesthani: "I wish you to go out with me to-day and help me
to fight my enemies. There are enemies of mine, not far from here,
whom I sometimes meet in battle." "I will go with you," said the
Navaho. "I have long been hoping that some one would say something
like this to me,"
538. They went from the lodge toward a mountain which was edged on two
sides by steep cliffs, which no man could climb. On the top of the
mountain the old man said there was a round hole or valley in which
his enemies dwelled. He stationed his son-in-law on one side of this
round valley where no cliffs were, and he went to the opposite side
to drive the enemy, as he said. He promised to join the Navaho when
the enemy started. Deer Raiser went around the mountain and cried
four times in imitation of a wolf. Then, instead of coming to his
comrade's help, he ran around the base of the hill and got behind
his son-in-law. Soon after the old man made his cry, the Navaho saw
twelve great ferocious bears coming toward him over the crest of the
hill. They were of the kind called sasnalkáhi, or tracking bears, such
as scent and track a man, and follow till they kill him. They were of
all the sacred colors,--white, blue, yellow, black, and spotted. They
came toward the Navaho, but he was well armed and prepared to meet
them. He fought with them the hardest fight he ever fought; but at
length he killed them all, and suffered no harm himself.[240]
539. In the mean time the old man ran off in the direction of
his home, sure that his son-in-law was killed. He said: "I think
we shall hear no more of Nati'nesthani. I think we shall hear
no more of Áhodiseli. Hereafter it will be Nati'nesthanini (the
dead Nati'nesthani). Hereafter it will be Áhodiselini (the dead
Áhodiseli).[241] He can't come back out of the tracking bears'
mouths." After killing the bears, the Navaho found the old man's
trail and followed it. Presently he came to Deer Raiser, who was
sitting on a knoll. The old man could not conceal his astonishment
at seeing the Navaho still alive. "When we went out to this battle,"
said the young man, "we promised not to desert one another. Why did you
run away from me?" The Deer Raiser answered: "I am sorry I could not
find you. I did not see where you were, so I came on this way. What
did you do where I left you? Did you kill any of the bears?" "Yes, I
killed all of them," said Nati'nesthani. "I am glad you killed all and
came away with your own life, my dear son-in-law," said the old cheat.
540. They started to walk home together, but night fell when they
reached a rocky ridge on the way; here they picked out a nice spot
of ground to sleep on, built a shelter of brushwood, and made a
fire. Before they went to rest the old man said: "This is a bad
place to camp. It is called Kedidi'lyena`a` (Ridge of the Burnt
Moccasins)." As they lay down to sleep, one on either side of the
fire, each took off his moccasins and put them under his head. The
old man said: "Take good care of your moccasins, my son-in-law. Place
them securely." "Why does he say these things?" asked the Navaho to
himself. As he lay awake, thinking of the warning of the old man,
he heard the latter snoring. He rose softly, took away the old man's
moccasins, put his own in their place, and lay down to sleep with
Deer Raiser's moccasins under his head. Later in the night the old
man got up, pulled the moccasins from under the young man's head,
and buried them in the hot embers. He was anxious to get home next
morning before his son-in-law.
541. At dawn the old man aroused his companion with "It is time
we were on our road." The young man woke, rubbed his eyes, yawned,
and pretended to look for his moccasins. After searching a while he
asked: "Where are my moccasins? Have I lost them?" "Huh!" said Deer
Raiser. "You did not listen to what I told you last night. I said that
this was the Ridge of the Burned Moccasins." In the mean time, on the
other side of the fire, the old man was putting on his companion's
moccasins, not noticing that they were not his own. "Look. You are
putting on my moccasins instead of your own. Give me my moccasins,"
said the Navaho, reaching across the fire. He took them out of his
companion's hands, sat down and put them on. "Now we must hurry back,"
he said. "I can't see what made you burn your moccasins, but I cannot
wait for you. I am going now."[242]
542. Before the young man left, his father-in-law gave him a
message. "I cannot travel as fast as you on my bare feet. When you go
home, tell my daughter to come out with a pair of moccasins and some
food, and meet me on the trail." When the Navaho got home he said to
his wife: "I camped with your father last night, and he burned his
moccasins. He is limping home barefoot. He bids his wife to come out
and meet him with moccasins and food." The daughter delivered the
message to her mother, and the latter went out to meet her husband
with moccasins, food, and a brand of burning cedar-bark. When the
old man met her he was angry. "Why have you come? Why has not my
daughter come?" he asked. "Your son-in-law said that I should come,"
the old woman replied. "Oh, what a fool my son-in-law is," cried Deer
Raiser. "He never can remember what he is told to say." He ate his
food, put on his moccasins, and hurried home with his wife.
543. When Deer Raiser visited his son-in-law on the following morning
he said: "I warn you never to stray alone to the east of the lodge in
which you dwell. There is a dangerous place there." The old man went
home, and the Navaho pondered all day over what his father-in-law
had said, and during the night he made up his mind to do just what
the old man had told him not to do.
544. When Nati'nesthani had eaten in the morning he dressed himself
for a journey, left the lodge, and travelled straight to the east. He
came to a steep white ridge;[243] when he had climbed this about half
way, he observed approaching him a man of low stature. His coat, which
fitted him skin-tight, was white on the chest and insides of the arms,
while it was brown elsewhere, like the skin of a deer. He wore on his
head a deer-mask, with horns, such as deer-hunters use. He carried
a turquoise wand, a black bow with sinew on the back, and two arrows
with featherings of eagle-tail. He was one of the Tsidastóidine`.[244]
When the men met, the stranger, who had a pale face,[245] looked out
from under his mask and said: "Whence come you, my grandchild?" "I
come, my grandfather, from a place near here. I come from the house
of Píniltani," the Navaho answered. "My grandchild, I have heard of
you. Do you know how my cigarette is made?" said the man with the
deer-mask. "No, my grandfather, I never heard of your cigarette,"
was the reply. "There is a cigarette[12] for me, my grandson,"
said the stranger. "It is painted white, with a black spot on it,
and is so long (second joint of middle finger). It should be laid in
the fork of a piñon-tree. I am now walking out, and am going in the
direction whence you came. There are people living behind the ridge
you are climbing. You should visit them, and hear what they will have
to tell you."
545. The Navaho climbed the ridge; and as he began to descend it
on the other side, he observed below him two conical tents, such
as the Indians of the plains use. The tents were white below and
yellow above, representing the dawn and the evening twilight. As he
approached the tents he observed that two games of nánzoz were being
played,--one beside each tent,--and a number of people were gathered,
watching the games. As he advanced toward the crowd a man came forward
to meet him, saying: "Go to the lodge in the south. There are many
people there." He went to the lodge in the south, as he was bidden. A
woman of bright complexion, fairer than the Navahoes usually are,
the wife of the owner of the lodge, came out and invited him to enter.
546. When Nati'nesthani entered the lodge he found its owner seated in
the middle. The latter was a man past middle age, but not very old. He
was dressed in a beautiful suit of buckskin embroidered with porcupine
quills. He pointed to a place by his side, and said to the Navaho:
"Sit here, my grandchild." When the Navaho was seated his host said:
"Whence do you come? The people who live up on the earth are never
seen here." "I come from the house of Píniltani," the young man
answered. "Oh! Do you?" questioned the host. "And do you know that
Deer Raiser is a great villain; that he kills his guests; that he
talks softly, and pretends friendship, and lures people to stay with
him until he can quietly kill them? Has he never spoken thus softly
to you? How long have you been staying with him?" "I have dwelt with
him for many days," Nati'nesthani answered. "Ah!" said his host. "Many
of our young men have gone over there to woo his daughter; but they
have never returned. Some are killed on the first day; others on the
second day; others on the third day; others on the fourth; but no
one ever lives beyond the fourth day. No one has ever lived there as
long as you have." "He seems to be such a man as you describe him,"
said Nati'nesthani. "He has been trying to kill me ever since I have
been with him." "You must be a wise man to have escaped him so long;
your prayer must be potent; your charm must be strong,"[246] declared
the host. "No, truly, I know no good prayer; I possess no charm,"
the Navaho replied, and then he went on to tell how he came into that
country, and all that happened to him, till he came to the house of
Deer Raiser. "He is rich, but he is no good. That daughter of his
is also his wife, and that is why he wants to poison her suitors,"
said the owner of the lodge, and then he described four ways in which
Píniltani killed his guests. The Navaho remained silent. He knew all
the ways of the Deer Raiser, but he pretended not to know. Then the
host went on: "The house of Deer Raiser is a place of danger. You will
surely be killed if you stay there. I am sorry you are in such bad
company, for you seem to be a good man." "You speak of Deer Raiser as
a great man; but he cannot be so great as you think he is. Four times
have I killed him with smoke, and four times have I brought him to
life again," said the Navaho, and then he related all his adventures
since he had been with Píniltani.
547. The host thanked him for having slain the bears, and went out
to call the players and all the crowd that stood around them to come
to his tent. They came, for he was their chief, and soon the tent was
crowded. Then he spoke to the assembly, and told them the story of the
Navaho. There was great rejoicing when they heard it. They thanked
Nati'nesthani for what he had done. One said that Deer Raiser had
killed his brother; another said he had killed his son; another said
the bears had slain his nephew, and thus they spoke of their many woes.
548. The people were of five kinds, or gentes: the Puma People, the
Blue Fox People, the Yellow Fox People, the Wolf People, and the Lynx
People, and the host was chief of all.
549. The chief ordered one of his daughters to prepare food for the
visitor. She brought in deer pemmican. The Navaho ate, and when he was
done he said: "I am now ready to go, my grandfather." "Wait a while,"
said the chief. "I have some medicine to give you. It is an antidote
for Deer Raiser's poison." He gave his visitor two kinds of medicine;
one was an object the size of the last two joints of the little finger,
made of the gall of birds of prey,--all birds that catch with their
claws; the other was a small quantity (as much as one might grasp with
the tips of all the fingers of one hand) of a substance composed of
material vomited by each of the five animals that were the totems of
this people. "Now have no fear," said the chief. "The bears are slain,
and you have here medicines that will kill the wizard's poison. They
are potent against witchcraft."[247]