Going quickly to the lodge, she found indeed the seven hearts tied in a

bunch, which hung under the couch as the old man had said. Placing it

under her robe, she fled out of the lodge as rapidly as possible and

ran at top speed. Soon she heard a voice calling to her, “Stop! Come

back!” but she rushed on as fast as she could. Then the voice said,

“You may think that you can, but you can not escape me, no matter how

you may try.” All her strength seemed to leave her: but at that moment

her grandfather was at her side, saying, “I shall aid you now, my

grandchild,” and, taking hold of her robe, he pulled her out of the

water. Then for the first time she saw that she had been in the water

all the time. A great black cloud was above them, and she saw the

Lightning flash, and the Thunder began to shoot his arrows, and the

Wind lashed the water into great foaming waves. In a few moments the

young woman saw that her grandfather had killed a great and terrible

serpent. She saw also standing on the shore men resembling her

grandfather, who thanked her for the aid she had been to them in

killing the great serpent and his progeny; for the old grandfather had

blasted the bunch of hearts with the lightnings and had shot them with

his arrows, thus killing the serpent and his offspring. These other men

drew the great serpent out of the water and cut him in pieces. They

stuck the head on a pole, whereupon the head appeared to her more

fierce and ugly than before. Then her grandfather said, “Now, my

grandchild, you must go home with us.” After packing suitable loads of

the serpent’s flesh they started for home, each with a load of the meat

on his back.[10]

In a short time they came to what seemed to her to be a lodge, which

they entered; there the young woman saw an old man whose hair was as

white as snow and whose manner and voice were kind. To him the leader

of the party said, “This woman of the human family has helped us to

kill the great serpent and his progeny.” The old man, looking up at

her, said, “My granddaughter, I am indeed thankful for the great help

you have given us in killing that awful serpent and his wicked

progeny.” While she was sitting there the old man said, “My

granddaughter, come here to my side.” When she stood beside him he

rubbed her body up and down with his hands, fortified with his orenda.

Whereupon several young serpents crawled from her; these were killed at

once by the men. Then the old man, remarking “You are now entirely

well,” bade her to be seated.

While she remained in this lodge the younger people went out to hunt

when they had the inclination to do so. They would bring corn for her

to eat, as they knew she could not eat their food, which was in large

measure the flesh of the serpents. They would tell her where they had

gathered the corn, and they told her also the names of the people from

whom they had taken it; she recognized the names of some of the people

mentioned.

One day the old man said to his sons, “Perhaps it would be better for

you to take the young woman with you to hunt. She shall thus secure

more orenda.” The sons agreed to this, saying, “It is well.” They told

her that one of their number was missing, saying, “Deep in the great

waters there is a terrible bloodsucker lying on a rock. One of our

number shot at it, but he was not quick enough to avoid the rush of the

great bloodsucker, and he was caught by it. He lies there on the rock,

and we can not save him, nor can we kill the bloodsucker. But you will

go with us, will you not?” She consented to go, and they started for

the place.

When they arrived at the place they looked down into the water, far

into its depths, and there they saw the great bloodsucker. All these

men went high up into the clouds and shot arrows down into the water at

the great bloodsucker, but they all failed to hit it. Then they asked

the young woman to shoot an arrow. Willingly she took her bow and

arrows and shot into the water at the monster. The great bloodsucker

moved. At her second shot there was a terrible struggle and commotion

in the water. When all became quiet again, and while she was still up

in the clouds with the men, they saw that the great bloodsucker was

dead. Just as soon as the monster died their brother got loose and came

up to them, and they all rejoiced and then went to their home.

After the woman had been with them about a year the old man said to his

sons: “I think that it is time that this young woman should go home to

her mother,” and to her the old man said, “You must not do any kind of

work—pounding or chopping. You must keep quiet for ten days at your

home.”

When the time was up they took her toward home. She thought that they

walked along as ordinary people do. When they neared her mother’s lodge

they told her to do just as her grandfather had requested her to do.

She then saw that she was standing in water. A heavy shower of rain had

just passed over the earth. Her mother’s home was near at hand and,

bidding her well-going, they left her. She reached home in due time and

her mother was delighted to see her long-lost child.

She observed her grandfather’s injunction for nine entire days without

any desire to break his command. But on the tenth day the women of her

family urged her to help them in their work. At first she refused,

saying that she could not do so. They urged her so hard, however, that

finally she struck one blow with the corn-pounder, whereupon the mortar

split in two and the corn fell to the ground. The orenda of the

Thunders had not entirely left her yet. This was why the old man had

enjoined her not to work for ten days.

5. THE GHOST WOMAN AND THE HUNTER

Once there was a young man in a village who was an orphan; he had

neither relatives nor home. He lived in first one lodge and then in

another.

Once in the fall of the year when warriors were preparing to go to hunt

deer the orphan wanted to go but could not get a chance to do so; no

one wanted him as a companion. So he was left alone in the village.

When all the men had gone he determined to go, too, and he went off by

himself. Toward night he came to a sort of clearing and saw a lodge on

one side of it near the bushes; he looked into it but he could see no

one. In the dooryard was a pile of wood and everything inside was

comfortable; so the orphan decided to pass the night there. It looked

as though the other hunters, too, had passed a night there. He made a

fire, arranged a place to sleep, and lay down. About midnight he heard

some one coming in and, looking up, he saw that it was a woman. She

came in and stood gazing at him, but she said nothing. Finally she

moved toward his couch but stopped; at last she said: “I have come to

help you. You must not be afraid. I shall stay all night in the lodge.

I know you are going out hunting.” The orphan said, “If you help me,

you may stay.” “I have passed out of this world,” said she; “I know

that you are poor; you have no relatives; you were left alone. None of

the hunters would let you go with them. This is why I have come to help

you. Tomorrow start on your journey and keep on until you think it is

time to camp, and then I will be there.” Toward daybreak she went out,

starting off in the direction from which she said she had come.

In the morning after preparing and eating some food he started on. In

the afternoon when he thought it was about time to stop he looked for a

stream. He soon found one and had just finished his camp as it became

dark. In the forepart of the night the woman came, saying, “We must now

live together as man and wife, for I have been sent to live with you

and help you.” The next day the man began to kill all kinds of game.

The woman stayed with him all the time and did all the necessary work

at the camp.

When the hunting season was over, she said, “There is no hunter in the

woods who has killed so much game as you have.” They started for home.

“We shall stop,” said she, “at the first lodge, where we met”; and they

slept at the lodge that night. The next morning she said: “I shall

remain here, but you go on to the village, and when you get there

everybody will find out that you have brought all kinds of meat and

skins. One will come to you and say, ‘You must marry my daughter.’ An

old woman will say, ‘You must marry my granddaughter,’ but do not

listen to them. Remain true to me. Come back next year and you shall

have the same good luck. [This was at a time when the best hunter was

the best man, the most desirable husband.] The next year when getting

ready to hunt, a man will try to come with you, do not take him. No one

would take you. Come alone. We will meet here.” Before daylight they

parted and he went on his journey with a great load of meat on his

back.

In the village he found that some of the hunters had got home, while

others came soon after. All told how much they had killed. This lone

man said, “I will give each man all he wants if he will go to my camp

and get it.” Accepting his offer, many went and brought back all they

could carry. Still there was much meat left. Everyone who had a

daughter or a granddaughter now asked him to come and live with the

family. At last the chief came and asked him to marry his daughter. The

orphan was afraid if he refused harm would come to him, for the chief

was a powerful man. At last he consented and married the chief’s

daughter.

The next fall the chief thought he had the best hunter for a son-in-law

and a great many wanted to go with him, but the son-in-law said, “I do

not think I shall go this year.” All started off, one after another.

When all had gone he went alone to the lodge where he was to meet the

woman. Arriving there he prepared the bed, and early in the night the

woman came in; stopping halfway between the door and the couch, she

said, “I am sorry you have not done as I told you to do. I can not stay

with you, but I decided to come once more and tell you that I know

everything you did at home and I can not stay.” She disappeared as

suddenly as she came.

Day after day the orphan went hunting, but he saw no game. He ate all

his provisions, and had to shoot small game—squirrels and birds—to eat,

for he was hungry. Returning home, he told the people that he had seen

no game. This woman who had befriended the orphan, it was said, was a

ghost woman.

6. HAHNOWA (THE TURTLE) AND HIS FORCES ON THE WARPATH

Hahnowa dwelt alone in his own lodge. He was a great warrior and had

led many war parties successfully.

One day the thought again came to him that he should go on the warpath.

So following the lead of his desire, he made the necessary preparations

and then boarded his canoe and paddled away along the river, singing as

he went along, “I am on the warpath. I am on the warpath.” When he had

gone but a short distance from his lodge he was hailed by a man who

came running to the bank of the river calling out, “Hallo, friend! Stop

a moment! I will go too. We will go on the warpath together.” So

Hahnowa stopped at the landing, and there on the bank stood an elk,

which said to Hahnowa, “I should like to go with you on the warpath.”

Hahnowa replied: “Before giving my consent, I desire to see you run,

for we might be defeated and then we shall have to run for our lives,

and unless we can escape through our speed we shall be killed and

scalped. Now, therefore, run to that mountain and return.” The elk ran

with great swiftness to the mountain and was back again in a very short

time. But Hahnowa said, “You can not go, for you do not run fast

enough. Only swift runners may go with me.”

Reentering his canoe, Hahnowa started off, singing, “I am on the

warpath. I am on the warpath.” In a short time a man hailed him,

saying, “Come back to the landing. I should like very much to go with

you on the warpath.” So Hahnowa turned and made a landing. Then he said

to his friend, “You must run to show me your speed, for you can not go

with me unless you can run very swiftly. Therefore run to that second

mountain and back at your highest speed.” Then Senon [11] showed his

great orenda and started off, but he had not got fairly started before

Hahnowa called him back, saying, “Come back; that is enough. You can

go.” So they two got into the canoe and started off, the Hahnowa

singing, “I am on the warpath. I am on the warpath. But you, brother,

smell quite strong.”

As they paddled along they saw another man, who hailed them. Making a

landing, they asked the man what he desired. In reply he said, “I see

that you are on the warpath and I want to accompany you.” The Turtle

answered him, “If you are a good runner, I will take you. To test your

speed you must run to yonder second mountain and back.” So Kahehda,[12]

for it was he, turning, started on a run. In this attempt his feet

crossed and he stumbled and fell. But he quickly arose and had taken

but a few steps farther when Turtle called to him to stop, telling him,

“You will do. Come to the canoe.”

So the motley crew started off, with the Turtle singing, “We are on the

warpath. You, brother, smell pretty strong. You, brother, have plenty

of arrows.”

They had not proceeded far when a man from the bank hailed them,

saying, “Stop! Come to the land, for I want to go with you on the

warpath.” So the Turtle and his friends landed and the Turtle informed

Degiyahgon [13] that he must show great speed in running to be

acceptable as a companion on the warpath, and he said, “Run as swiftly

as you can to yonder second mountain and return.” Degiyahgon was

instantly off, breaking and crashing through the boughs and shrubbery

as he rushed headlong on his way. When Degiyahgon returned, the Turtle

said, “You have failed in your trial of speed,” and he and his friends

again got aboard of their canoe and sailed away, singing as before.

They had not proceeded far when a man hailed them from the shore,

saying, “Bring the canoe to the land, for I desire to accompany you on

the warpath.” The Turtle replied, “I shall first come to see you run,

for we can take only swift runners, as something may happen while we

are gone which will make it necessary for us to run for our lives. So

go to that second mountain yonder and return as speedily as it is

possible for you to do so.” So Sigwaon [14] raised himself to run, when

Turtle exclaimed, “Oh, you will do! You may come with me, too.”

So the picked band of warriors again started, the Turtle singing, “We

are on the warpath. You, brother, smell pretty strong. You, brother,

have many arrows. And you, brother, have a black face.”

It was now nearly night and they were going to make war on the Seven

Sisters, whose dwelling place was not far distant. They soon arrived at

the place and disembarked. The Turtle told his companions that each

must choose the place best suited to his particular method of fighting.

So Senon declared that he would sit near the fireplace and that he

would attack with his odors the first person who approached the

fireplace. Kahehda chose the pile of wood for fuel, boasting that he

would attack with his arrows the first person who came out for wood.

Sigwaon on his part chose the skin bucket in which the shelled corn was

kept, declaring that he would assault the first person who should come

for corn. Lastly, Turtle exclaimed that he would station himself near

the spring and that if anyone went to draw water he would fight him.

So in the early morning of the next day the mother of the Seven Sisters

arose and took a fire poker to stir up the fire on the hearth. Then

Senon, who was posted there, at once attacked her with his foul odors.

The aged woman fell back nearly stifled and unable to open her eyes.

Her daughters, the Seven Sisters, hearing the commotion, arose quickly

to assist their mother. Seeing the man fighting their mother, they at

once attacked him. At first he bravely repelled their assault, but they

got clubs and fought until they had killed him, and they then threw his

body out of doors.

Now they started to make the fire, and one of their number went out to

bring in firewood. When she reached down to pick up a piece of wood she

felt a severe blow on the arm, and found her arm full of hedgehog

quills. She at once repelled this attack, and while she was fighting

Kahehda her sisters came to her assistance. On seeing what had caused

the trouble they took up pieces of wood and attacked Kahehda standing

among the logs. They hit him repeatedly on the head until they had

killed him, and then they threw his body away.

Then one of the sisters needed dried shelled corn to prepare for making

bread for the day’s meal. Going to the bucket where it was kept and

putting her hand into it, she instantly felt a sharp blow, and looking

into the bucket she saw therein a huge Hagonsadji.[15] She called her

sisters to her assistance, who at once responded. Arming themselves

with clubs they struck Hagonsadji many blows until he was dead, but by

this time the sister who had been bitten by Hagonsadji was dead.

Then the aged mother of the Seven Sisters asked one of the daughters to

bring water from the spring. Going to the spring, she stooped down to

draw up the water, whereupon she was seized by Turtle. He caught her by

the toe and held on persistently; she tried repeatedly, but she could

not get him off. Then she walked backward, dragging him along. When she

arrived at the lodge her mother was very angry and shouted, “Throw him

into the fire and let him burn up.” Then Turtle laughed out loud and

said, “You can not please me more than by casting me into the fire, for

I came from fire and I like to be in it rather than in anything else.”

So the old woman changed her mind and said, “I will take him to the

creek and drown him.” Thereupon Turtle cried out in great agony, “Oh!

do not do this. I shall die; I shall die if you do.” He begged hard for

his life, but it apparently availed him nothing. So the old woman and

the six living sisters, seizing Turtle, ruthlessly dragged him along to

the neighboring creek and cast him into it, thinking that he would

drown; he, of course, naturally sank to the bottom. But in a few

moments he rose to the surface of the water in midstream and, holding

out his claws as if exhibiting scalps, he exclaimed in derision, “I am

a brave man, and here is where I live,” and he at once sank out of

sight.

7. THE OLD MAN’S GRANDSON AND THE CHIEF OF THE DESERTED VILLAGE

A certain grandfather and his grandson lived together. They were the

only people of their tribe left. All the others had been killed by

sorcerers.

When the boy became old enough he had bows and arrows given him by his

grandfather, and he would go out hunting. As he grew older he hunted

larger game, until he was old enough to kill deer. Each time the

grandson brought home game the old man danced and rejoiced and told the

youth the name of the game which he had brought in.

One day the grandfather said: “Now, you are old enough to marry a wife.

I should like to have a woman here to cook. You must go south and find

a wife. The people there are good and healthy. None of them have been

killed off. For an ordinary man to reach their village it is a journey

of six years, but you will go much more quickly.” The grandfather gave

the young man, among other things, a pair of moccasins and sent him

off.

About noon of the first day the youth came to an opening in the woods.

There he found a large village in the opening. He went to one lodge and

then to another, but he found that they were all vacant. Then he went

to the Long Lodge,[16] and he looked in; there he saw the dead body of

a young woman, well-dressed, with beautiful ornaments, lying on a bench

in the middle of the room. As he looked in, he thought, “I will go in

and take those things. They will be good presents for my wife when I

find one.” So he went in, took off the bracelets and neck ornaments and

then went out. After he was outside of the Long Lodge he said to

himself, “I think I will go home now and look for a wife another day.”

So he started northward, as he thought, running along quickly. After a

while he came to a clearing, which, to his surprise, he found was the

one he had just left; he saw the same village and Long Lodge, and he

thought, “Well, I must have made some mistake in the direction.” He

took his bearings again and hurried on toward home. Again he came out

in the same village. “It must be that this woman brings me back because

I have taken her ornaments. I will give them back to her.” So he went

into the Long Lodge and put all the ornaments back on the dead body and

hurried homeward. On the way he killed a bear. Skinning it and taking

some of the best meat, he put it into the skin and carried it with him,

running as fast as he could, hoping to reach home that night. Once more

he came out at the same Long Lodge in the opening at the time it began

to be dark. “Well, this is wonderful,” thought he.

He made up his mind to spend the night in the Long Lodge, so he kindled

a fire, spread out the skin, cooked his meat, and sat down to supper.

As he ate he threw the bones behind him. Soon he heard back of him a

noise which sounded like the gnawing of bones by a dog. “Perhaps it is

a hungry ghost that does this,” thought the young man. “Well, I will

give it some meat.” So he threw it pieces of meat and heard the sounds

made as they were being eaten. After he had eaten his supper he got

under the bearskin to sleep. But he soon felt something begin to pull

the skin at his feet. When the fire began to die out he arose quickly

and stirred up the embers, putting on more wood. All was quiet,

however, and he lay down again. After a while, as the fire began to go

down again, something crawled over his body and came up to his breast.

He threw his arms around it, wrapping it in the bearskin covering, and

sprang to his feet. A terrible struggle now began between the man and

his unknown antagonist. They wrestled from that place to the other end

of the Long Lodge and then down along the other side of the room. When

they had almost reached the place where they started the gray of the

dawn came; instantly the body in his arms dropped to the floor and lay

still. He lashed the bearskin around it closely; then, leaving it on

the floor, he cooked his breakfast.

After breakfast he was curious to know what was under the bearskin, for

he thought it must be something connected with the woman. Opening the

bearskin carefully he found nothing but a blood-clot about the size of

his fist. First, he made a wooden ladle with his flint knife. Then,

heating water, he dissolved in it some of the blood. Forcing open the

skeleton woman’s jaws, he poured down her throat some of the blood.

Again he did the same thing.

At length her breast began to heave. When he had given her half the

blood she breathed, and when she had taken all the blood she said, “I

am very hungry.” The young man pounded corn and made thin gruel, with

which he fed her; soon she was able to sit up, and in a short time she

was well again. Then she said: “This village was inhabited a short time

ago. My father was the chief of it. He and all his people have gone

south and they live now not far from here. Many men from the north

wanted to marry me, and when I was unwilling to marry them they

enchanted me in this place, so that my father and all his people had to

leave, and I was left here for dead.” “Come! I will go with you to

him,” said the young man.

The young man and woman set out together for the south, and they soon

came to the village. The first lodge on the edge of the village was

inhabited by a Crow with a large family, who were very poor. The young

man was left at a tree outside the lodge to converse with Crow. He told

Crow the story of the Long Lodge and the recovery of the chief’s

daughter. The Crow hurried over to the lodge of the chief and said to

the chief and his wife, “Your daughter has come to life.” The old

woman, taking a club, began to drive the Crow out of the lodge, saying:

“You lying wretch! You know that no one has ever come to life after

being dead more than ten days.” “Oh, well; do not beat him,” said the

chief, “it may be true that our daughter has come to life, though dead

twenty days.” “She has,” said the Crow, “for she is over by my lodge.”

“Well, bring her here,” said the chief.

The two young people then came on invitation, and, as they were both

willing, the young man became the chief’s son-in-law. After they had

been married a few days the young man told his wife to go and get the

best bowl her father had, for he was sick at his stomach and wished to

vomit. She brought the bowl, and he vomited it full of the most

beautiful wampum. This was an act which young wizards are expected to

perform after marriage. “Take that now to your father,” said he. She

took the bowl of wampum to her father as a gift from her husband. The

old chief was delighted, and said: “That is the finest man I have ever

seen. I knew that he was of good stock. This wampum will do me great

good.”

Two or three days later the young man said to his wife: “You go and

borrow your father’s bow and arrows, for I want to go to hunt. All the

young men of the village are to hunt tomorrow, and I must go, too.”

Starting very early, each one went out alone to hunt deer. The Crow

went with the young man, and he said, “I will fly up high and look all

around to see where the deer are.” The Crow saw ten deer some distance

ahead, and, flying back, said to the young man: “I will fly behind

those deer and drive them this way. You can kill all.” The young man

stood behind and waited until the deer passed by; then he turned and,

as all were in a line, he killed the ten with one arrow. The Crow said

that in the village they never gave him anything but the refuse. “Oh!”

said the young man, “you can have one deer for yourself today.” The

Crow flew home with the news, and said: “What are all the other young

men good for? The chief’s son-in-law has killed ten deer long before

sunrise and the others have killed nothing.” None of the other hunters

had good luck that day.

At night there was a feast and a dance in the Long Lodge. The

disappointed hunters planned to take vengeance on the young man, the

chief’s son-in-law. When going around to dance he came to the middle of

the Long Lodge, by means of witchcraft they made him sink deep down

into the ground. But the Crow now called on his friend, the Turkey, to

dig him up. The Turkey came and scratched until he dug down to the

young man, and with the aid of a bark rope, which the Crow had made,

together they drew him up.

The old chief now made up his mind to leave the village and the bad

people, who were enemies of his son-in-law, and to go with the good

people of the village to live at the lodge of his son-in-law’s

grandfather. They all went and settled down there and lived happily.

8. THE MAN WHO MARRIED A BUFFALO WOMAN

Near the river, at the place now called Corydon, in Pennsylvania, there

lived a family of Indians. One of the boys arose very early one morning

and went to the river. The air was foggy, but the boy heard paddling

and soon saw two little people called Djogeon [17] in a canoe, who came

to the place where he was and landed. One of them said: “We came on

purpose to talk with you, for you are habitually up early in the

morning. We are on a buffalo hunt. There are three buffaloes, two old

and one young, which run underground. If they should stop in this part

of the country they would destroy all the people, for they are full of

witchcraft and sorcery. In two days you must be in this place very

early.”

When the time was up the boy went to the same spot on the river bank

and in a short while the Djogeon came and said: “We have killed the two

old buffaloes, but the young one has escaped to the west. We let him go

because some one will kill him anyway. Now we are going home.” When

they had said this they went away.

On the Allegany reservation the Seneca collected a war party to go

against the Cherokee. One of the company was the fastest runner of the

Seneca. Before they got to the Cherokee country they met the Cherokee

and all the Seneca were killed except the fast runner. He ran in the

opposite direction until out of their reach; then he started home by a

different road from the one on which the party had set out. The third

day, near noon, he came to a deer lick, and while he sat there he saw

tracks which looked like those of a very large bear; he followed these

until they led to a large elm tree; he found that the animal was not an

ordinary bear, but one of the old kind, the great Ganiagwaihegowa,[18]

that eats people, and he said, “It matters not if I die, I must see

it.” Climbing the tree and looking down into the hollow in the trunk he

saw the creature. It had no hair; its skin was as smooth as a man’s. He

thought: “I had better not attack that creature. I will go back to the

deer lick.” Getting down, he ran to the lick. Then he heard a terrible

noise and, looking back, he saw the animal come down from the tree.

Drawing back, he ran and jumped into the middle of the deer lick,

sinking almost to his waist in the mud; he could not get out, but he

could with great difficulty take a single step forward. He saw the

Ganiagwaihegowa coming toward the lick; when it got to the place whence

he leaped, it jumped after him. He dragged himself along, pulling one

leg after the other; the animal sank so it could scarcely move. The man

at last got to solid ground, but the Ganiagwaihegowa sank deeper and

deeper. When it reached the center of the lick it sank out of sight.

The man ran some distance and sat down on a fallen tree. He did not

know what to do; he was faint from hunger, having had nothing to eat,

and was too tired to hunt. Soon a man approached and said, “You think

you are going to die?” “Yes,” he answered. “No; you will not; I come to

assist you. Go where I came from, off in this direction,” he said,

pointing to one side. “You will find a fire and over it a pot; rest

there and eat; men will come and trouble you, but pay no attention to

them. When you sit down to eat one will say, ‘Throw a small piece over

this way’; another will say, ‘Throw a bit over this way’; but pay no

heed to them. If you throw even a bit, you are lost, for they will

destroy you.”

He went as directed and found meat and hulled corn in the kettle. As he

ate, it seemed as though a crowd formed in a circle around him, all

begging for a portion. They kept it up all night, but he paid no heed

to their begging.

In the morning, after he had traveled a short distance, he met the same

man who sent him to the kettle, who now said to him: “I am glad that

you did as I told you. Now you will live. Go toward the east, and when

it is near night sit down by a tree. I will come to you.”

He traveled all day, and near sunset he found a fallen tree and sat

down. Soon the man came and said: “Follow my tracks a little way and

you will find a fire and a kettle with meat and hulled corn in it; you

will be troubled as you were last night, but pay no heed to the words;

if you escape tonight, you will have no more trouble.”

He went as directed; he found the fire and the kettle hanging over it;

the kettle was filled with meat and hulled corn. That night a crowd

around him begged for food as they did the night before, but he paid no

attention to them. After he had started in the morning the man met him

and said, “Keep on your way; you will meet no further danger, and will

reach home safe and well.” After going on a little way he turned to

look at his friend, and saw that instead of being a man it was

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa.[19] He went along, and toward night he began to

think he had better look for game. He saw a deer, which he shot and

killed; then, building a fire, he roasted and ate some pieces of

venison. He was now in full strength.

The next day he kept on, and in the afternoon he shot a deer. When

night came he lay down by the fire, but he could not sleep. After a

while he heard some persons coming to his fire—a couple of women, he

thought. One asked, “Are you awake?” “Yes; I am awake,” he replied.

“Well, my husband and I have decided to have you marry our daughter

here,” came the rejoinder. When she said this he looked at them, and

they were attractive women, especially the younger one. He consented to

her proposal. He did not know where to go, and thought that if he

married her he would have company and could find his way home after a

time. The two women stayed all night. In the morning the mother said,

“We will go to my home.” They walked on until noon, when they came to a

village where he thought a goodly number of people were living. He

stayed with them a long time.

One night he heard a drum sounding near by and heard his father-in-law

say, “Oh! Oh!” The old man seemed frightened by the call. It meant that

the little Buffalo, which had escaped from the Djogeon and lived under

the hill, was going to have a dance and that all must come. That

morning they went to the place where the drum was beaten. The little

Buffalo was chief of all these people. He had two wives. When they got

to the place the whole multitude danced all night, and the little

Buffalo and his two wives came out and danced. He had only one rib

[19a] on each side of his body.

The next morning the chief and his two wives came out and went around

in the crowd. Being very jealous, he pushed the young Buffalo Man away

from his wives and began fighting them; then he went away again. The

next morning the old father-in-law said to the man, “The two wives will

soon come out and go to the stream for water; they will pass near you,

but you must not speak or smile, for their husband is a bad, jealous

man, and if you smile or speak he will know it at once and will harm

you.” He did not, however, obey the old man’s words. The two women went

for water, and as they came back they smiled and looked pleased, and

the young man asked them for a drink; they gave it to him and went on.

His father-in-law said, “You have not done as I told you; now the man

will come out and say he has challenged a man to a foot-race, and he

will name you.” Soon the Buffalo Man came out and said: “I have

challenged this man to run. If I am a better runner than he, I will

take his life; if he is better than I, he may take mine.” They were to

begin the race early in the morning and were to run around and around

the hill. The one who was ahead at sundown was to be the winner. The

father-in-law said, “You must have an extra pair of moccasins to put on

if yours get worn out.”

That morning the Buffalo Man came out, and saying, “Now start!” off he

went. At noon his friends told his opponent to do his best, for the

Buffalo Man was gaining on him, and had just gone around the turn

ahead. Soon the man overheard the Buffaloes tell the Buffalo Man to do

his best, for the other man was gaining on him. Shortly after noon the

chief’s son-in-law was only a few rods behind, and the Buffalo Man was

tired; the latter began to go zigzag and soon afterward his opponent

overtook him.

The latter did not know at first how to shoot the Buffalo Man. He could

not shoot him in the side, for it was one immense rib; so he decided to

shoot from behind. He shot and the arrow went in up to the feathers,

only a little of it protruding. The two ran around once more, and as

they came near the stopping place the people encouraged the man to

shoot a second time. He did so, and the Buffalo fell dead. So the words

of the Djogeon were fulfilled that some one would come who would kill

the young Buffalo. The people crowded around the man and thanked him

for what he had done.

After this the old man said to the people, “All can go where they

like.” They separated, but he and his wife with their son-in-law and

daughter went home. Then the mother-in-law said to the man, “Now you

must get ready and go to see your mother.” They started, the man, his

wife, and mother-in-law. They were ten days on the road. It was the

time of sugar making. When they got near his mother’s lodge his wife

said, “My mother and I will stop in these woods; your mother is making

maple sugar and we will help her all we can.” The young man saw his

mother and at night went to the lodge, leaving his wife and her mother

in the woods.

In the night the wife and mother collected all the sap and brought a

great pile of wood. The next morning when the mother and her son went

to the woods they found no sap in the troughs under the trees, but when

they got to the boiling place the big trough was full and a great pile

of wood was near by. The work continued for some days. Then the old

woman said to her son-in-law: “It is time for me to go home to my

husband, and now you may be free. Have no hard feelings. I shall take

my daughter with me. You must stay with your mother. There are many

women about here who want to marry you, but do not marry them; there is

but one that you should marry—the granddaughter of the woman who lives

in the last lodge at the edge of the village. They are very poor and

the girl takes care of her grandmother. You may tell the people when

you get home that you saw buffalo tracks in the swamp; let them come

out and shoot; the more they shoot the sooner we shall get home.”

The man told the people that he saw tracks in the swamp. The people

went out, but did not get far before they overtook the Buffaloes and

killed them. The man knew all the time that they were Buffaloes, but in

his eyes they seemed like people. As he had been absent from his people

so long, and as the rest of his company had been killed, the Seneca

thought him a great man. The women sought him as a husband for their

daughters, but, refusing every offer, he married the granddaughter of

the old woman who lived in the last lodge on the edge of the village.

When the Buffaloes were shot the people thought they had killed them,

but in reality they had not done so. The Buffaloes left their carcasses

behind, which the people ate, but their spirits went back to the old

man and they were Buffaloes again.[19b]

9. A WOMAN AND HER BEAR LOVER

A man and his wife with two sons—one on the cradle-board yet, and the

other three or four years old—lived in the woods.

After a while the elder boy became puny and sickly. The man was much

troubled by this and began to think that his wife was to blame. Every

day he set out to hunt, and the woman went to get wood and to dig wild

potatoes.

One day the man resolved to watch his wife; so he hid himself near the

lodge instead of going to hunt. In a couple of hours the wife came out,

gayly dressed, her face washed, and her hair oiled; she walked quickly

to the woods. He followed her stealthily. She stopped at a large tree

on which she tapped with a stick and said, “I am here again.” Presently

a noise as of scrambling was heard in the tree, and a great Bear came

out of the hollow in the trunk and slipped quickly to the foot of the

tree. After a while the woman went away, and the Bear again climbed the

tree. The man set off, seeking wild potatoes. Finding a place where

there were many good ones, he dug up a large quantity.

The next day he took the woman there and dug up as many as she could

carry; he then sent her home, saying that he would go hunting so that

they could have a good supper. The hunter then went straight to the

tree in which lived his wife’s lover, the Bear, and, tapping twice on

it, said, “I am here again.” The Bear soon stuck his head out, and the

man shot an arrow at him which brought him to the ground. The hunter

left the skin of the Bear; he merely opened his body and took out the

entrails, which he carried home.

The woman was glad and said to the little boy, “Your father has brought

us a good dinner.” She cooked the entrails and the wild potatoes. They

all sat down to eat, and the woman ate very heartily; but the man said

that he was sick, and did not eat of the entrails. When she had nearly

finished eating and her hands were full of fat, her husband said to

her, “You seem to like to eat your lover.” “What?” she said. “Oh! eat

more, eat plenty,” he replied. “I shall eat two or three mouthfuls

more,” she said. As she was doing this, he said again, “You seem to

like to eat your husband.” She heard him this time and knew what he

meant. Jumping up, she ran out and vomited and vomited. Then she ran

off into the woods to the westward. The next day she took medicine,

which caused an abortion, resulting in delivery of two bear cubs.

Leaving them on the ground, she cut off her breasts and hung them on an

ironwood tree.

A couple of days later the father said to the elder boy, “I think I

must go after your mother; you stay in the lodge and take care of your

little brother.” Then he brought a bowl of water and put feathers in

it, saying, “If anything evil happens to me the feathers will be

bloody.”

He started west. The first day he found the cubs and breasts on the

ironwood tree, which he knew came from his wife.

After leaving the cubs the woman went on until she came to a village.

She stopped in the first lodge at the edge of the village, where a

family of Crows lived. The woman said that she was looking for a place

to live, and, being a young woman, would like to get a husband. The old

Crow said to one of his sons: “Run over to the chief’s lodge, and tell

him that there is a young woman here who would like to get married.

Perhaps one of his sons would like to have her.” The boy did as

directed. “All right,” said the chief, “let her come over here.” The

woman went over. She had her hair pulled back and tied tight at the

back so there were no wrinkles on her face, and as her breasts were cut

off, she looked like a young woman. One of the chief’s sons married

her.

Two days later her husband appeared at the lodge of the Crows, asking

whether they had seen such and such a woman. “I have come looking for

my wife, who left me four days ago,” said the man. “Yes, such a woman

came here two days ago. She is married to one of the chief’s sons.” “Go

over,” said the Gagahgowa [20] to one of his sons, “and tell the chief

that his daughter-in-law’s husband has come.” The young Crow went over

and delivered the message. “Have you ever been married before?” asked

the chief of his daughter-in-law. “No,” replied the woman. “Then he

lies,” said the chief to the Crow’s son. Turning to some of the

warriors, he said: “We do not want such a fellow as that hanging

around; go over and kill him.” The warriors went over to the Crow’s

house, killed the man, and threw his body away.

Immediately the feathers in the bowl were bloody, and the boy knew that

his father was dead. The next day he started westward, carrying his

little brother on his back. Following the trail, they found the two

cubs lying on the ground. Then the little fellow on the cradle-board

looked at them, then at the breasts on the tree, and he knew that they

belonged to his mother. They went on until they reached the Crow’s

lodge, where they inquired, “Have you seen our father, who came after

our mother?” “Oh, yes; the chief has killed your father, and your

mother is at the chief’s lodge. She is the wife of one of his sons. You

run over and tell the chief that his daughter-in-law’s two sons have

come after her.” He went and told his message. “Have you ever had any

children?” asked her father-in-law and her husband. “No,” she said in a

faint voice. “Go home,” said the chief, “and tell them my

daughter-in-law never had any children. She is a young woman. How could

she have two sons?” Then, turning to the warriors, he said: “Run over

and kill those lying children. I do not want to have them around here.”

When his sons came home the Gagahgowa said: “They will kill those two

boys. It is a pity. Let us hide them.” When the warriors came the

Gagahgowa said, “They have gone; they went back home, I think.”

The Crows cared for the boys. After a while the old Crow said: “Let us

go away from here. Let us go far away into the woods where there will

be good hunting. These little boys will bring us luck.” The Crow family

moved far away into the deep woods; they planted corn and beans and had

good crops. The boys grew up and hunted; they had great luck and

obtained much game. The whole Crow family were fat and happy.

After several years the old chief at the village said one day: “I have

not seen that Crow family for a long time. Run over, somebody, and see

how they are getting along.” A runner, Haheshe,[21] went over and,

finding the Crow place in ruins, came back and said that their lodge

had tumbled down and that they had gone away somewhere. “Go,” said the

chief, “a number of you, and find them. They must be somewhere. Do not

come back until you know where they are living now.” After a long

search they found the Crow family living in happiness and plenty, far

away in the woods. When they told the chief he said, “Let us all go

there. There must be good hunting in that place.”

As soon as they were on the road it began to snow and to grow cold. It

continued to snow heavier and faster, the snowflakes being almost as

large as a man’s hand. The young chief and his wife hurried on ahead.

She had a child on her back. They reached the Crows’ lodge almost

frozen to death and covered with snow. The rest of the family were

either frozen to death, buried in the snow, or forced to turn back. The

snow was light near the Crows’ lodge, but as there was a great pile of

deer carcasses near it, they had to carry them in. The elder brother

was employed at this work when his mother and her husband came. Calling

out, “My son!” she came near him. He pushed her back with a forked

stick. She put her baby on him. He threw it on the ground in the snow.

Just then the old woman of the Crows came out and said: “You should not

do so. If your mother is wicked, you should not be likewise. Let them

come in.” And Gagahgowa, the old Crow, allowed them to live there.

10. THE FOX AND THE RABBIT

One winter a man was going along quietly over a light, freshly fallen

snow. All at once he saw another man coming toward him. The other man

when within hailing distance shouted, “I am Ongwe Ias” (i.e., I am a

man-eater). The first man decided to run for his life. Starting on a

run, he circled round and round, trying to escape, but the other man,

who was also a swift runner, was gaining on him. When the first man saw

that he could not escape, he took off his moccasins and, saying to

them, “You run on ahead as fast as you can,” he himself lay down and

became a dead rabbit, half rotten, and all dirty and black.

When the second man came up and saw the black, dirty old carcass and

the tracks ahead, he ran along after the moccasins. When he caught up

with them and saw that only moccasins had been running on ahead of him,

he was very angry, thinking, “This fellow has surely fooled me. The

next time I will eat the meat anyhow.”

Thereupon the man-eater turned back. As expected, the dead rabbit was

gone, and he followed the tracks. He soon came upon a man who sat

rolling pieces of bark, making cords. The man-eater asked, “Have you

seen a man pass by here?” No answer came from the cord-maker. Again he

asked and then pushed the cord-maker until the latter fell over;

whereupon he answered, “Yes; some one passed here just now.” The

pretended cord-maker had sent his moccasins on again.

The man-eater hurried on, and the cord-maker, springing up, ran on a

little and then turned himself into an old tree with dry limbs. He had

made a circuit and came in ahead of the man-eater. When the latter came

to the tree, he said, “I believe that he has turned himself into a

tree;” so, punching the tree, he broke off a limb that looked like a

nose, and that fell like dead wood. Then the man-eater said, “I do not

think that it is he,” and started off again on the trail of the

moccasins.

When he overtook the moccasins he thought, “I now believe that the tree

was the man, and that he has fooled me again.” He hurried back; when he

came to the spot where the tree had been it was gone, but where he had

broken off the limb he found blood. Then he knew that the tree was the

man he was seeking, and he followed the tracks.

When the man saw that his enemy was after him again, he fled until he

chanced to come upon the body of a dead man, which he pushed on the

path. When the man-eater came up, he said, “I will eat him this time;

he shall not fool me again. I will finish him.” Then he ate the putrid

carcass. The other man thus escaped his enemy.

[It is said that the man with the moccasins was a rabbit, while the

man-eater was a fox.]

11. THE SNAKE WITH TWO HEADS

In olden times there was a boy who was in the habit of going out to

shoot birds.

One day in his excursions he saw a snake about 2 feet long with a head

at each end of its body. It so happened that the boy had a bird and,

dividing it in two parts, he gave a portion to the snake in each mouth.

The next day he fed it again; and the youth made up his mind to do

nothing but hunt birds to feed the snake. He went out every day and

killed many birds and the snake grew wonderfully large. The boy, too,

became a very good shot; he even killed black squirrels and larger game

to feed the snake. One day the misguided youth took his little sister

along with him and pushed her toward the snake, which caught her with

one of its heads and ate her up.

The snake kept growing and ate larger and larger game. It devoured

anything the boy brought to it. At last it formed a circle around the

entire village of his people. The two heads came near together at the

palisade gate, and they ate up all the people who came out. At last

only one man and his sister remained. When the snake had swallowed

enough persons it dragged itself off to the top of a mountain and lay

there.

That night the man who was saved dreamed that he must make a bow and

arrows and take certain hairs from his sister’s person and wind them

around the head of each arrow; then he was to anoint the end of each

arrow with blood from his sister’s catamenial flow.

When the man arrived near the mountain he shot an arrow at the monster,

which struck it and worked into its body; and every arrow that the man

shot did likewise. Finally the snake began to vomit what he had eaten.

Out came all the people in pieces—heads, arms, and bodies, and wooden

bowls—for the people had tried to defend themselves with every kind of

weapon that they could grasp. The snake then began to writhe and squirm

violently and at last it rolled down into the valley and died.

12. A HUNTER PURSUED BY GENONSGWA [22]

Among a certain people in times past four warriors decided to go off on

a hunting expedition. In order to reach their destination they had to

ascend a large stream in canoes. Now, it is said these men were the

inventors of bark canoes.

The eldest member of the party said, “We will go and land at a point

which is called Kingfisher’s Place.” They had then been out for several

days, and so after he had told them this they felt glad to know that

soon they would land somewhere. They entered the mouth of an affluent

of the stream upon which they first started and, having arrived at

their destination, the leader of the party said, “This is the place.”

After they had landed and established their camp the leader said to his

comrades, “Now, you must hunt and bring into the camp all the game you

can.” It was then early in the summer. He told each one to do the best

that lay in his power, with a strict command to observe the usual fasts

and injunctions.

In the morning of the day following their arrival at the Kingfisher’s

Place the leader in behalf of his men and himself besought the Stars,

the Moon, and the Sun to prosper them and to give them a large measure

of success in killing an abundance of game for their larder. Being

expert hunters, they soon had plenty of meat and furs; the meat was

dressed and properly cured, while the skins were prepared for tanning

later.

One day one of the hunters said: “I am going a little farther away than

usual. I am hunting elks.” But the leader said to him: “You must be

careful in all that you undertake. No man must take any chances by

going far out of the usual bounds, for I fear something evil may come

to us.”

Now, it so happened that one of the hunters was exceedingly stubborn

and would not accept advice from any source. So, without regard for the

timely caution of his chief, he went farther than he had intended to

go, after an elk. When night came all the hunters reached camp safe,

except this stubborn man. As the others gathered around their fire at

night they discussed his probable fate if he had gone too great a

distance, reaching the conclusion that he had gone farther away than he

had intended to go.

Now, the stubborn man had traveled all day. When night came on he

erected a brush lodge and kindled a bright fire. He had encamped near a

stream. Soon he heard in the distance voices which seemed to be those

of human beings. Looking across the stream he saw on the farther bank

what he believed to be two women, one carrying a baby which seemed to

be very fretful, for the woman sat down and nursed it continually. The

hunter, who was deceived as to the true character of the supposed

women, was delighted to see people of any kind at that time.

Now, the women saw him at the moment he looked across the stream to

learn what kind of people were making the sounds he had heard; and one

of them hailed him with “Brother, how did you cross the stream?” It

seemed strange to him that these women should call to him from so great

a distance, but he told them to cross just below the point at which

they then were and to come directly toward his fire and camp. The women

kept on asking him, however, how he had crossed, but he answered only

as before. Nevertheless, the women continued to say, “Tell us. You must

have crossed in some place.” The hunter, still dissembling, said, “Yes;

I did cross right there where I have shown you.” While he talked to

them he reached the conclusion that these women were not human beings,

but that they must be Genonsgwa, of whom he had heard so much in the

traditions of his people. Nevertheless, they were clothed like the

women of his people, and one of them was quite beautiful in form and

feature.

One of the women asked him if she could not stop with him overnight.

The young hunter replied, “Yes; if you will come across the stream.”

After looking at them more closely, he was firmly convinced in his mind

that they were not women of the human species. Then one of the women

said to her companion, “We will go on a little farther; perhaps we may

find a ford.” Ascending the stream a short distance, they came to a

footbridge consisting of a fallen log, on which the man had crossed.

One of the women said to the other, “This is surely the place where he

crossed.”

When the hunter saw them crossing on the footbridge, he went quickly

some distance downstream and then, crossing at a ford, he again

ascended the stream to a spot opposite his camp.

The moment that the women arrived at his camp fire the hunter became

afraid, because of their actions. On looking across the stream they

soon saw that the man was then where they themselves had just been, and

one of them at once called to him: “Why do you run from us? Nothing

will happen to you, so come back here. We will do you no harm.” Making

no reply to these challenges, the man saw one of the women pick up his

tomahawk and draw her finger across its edge, saying, “I do wonder

whether this would kill a person or not?” The hunter shouted to her,

“Yes; it can take a person’s life, so put it down at once, lest it do

you harm.” She laid down the tomahawk and became very angry, because

she saw that the hunter was determined to keep out of her way. As these

women showed so great anger, the hunter felt sure they were in fact

Genonsgwa.

Realizing that they were determined to reach him, the hunter told them

to come across the stream directly to the point where he then stood,

assuring them that he would remain there until they arrived. One of the

women had requested him several times to return to the opposite side of

the stream, but his only reply was, “You, yourself, come here.” This

answer only made her angry. Finally the two women started for the

footbridge, telling the hunter to wait for them, and again he assured

them that he would do so. But when he saw them crossing he descended

the stream and recrossed it at the ford; so when they arrived at the

place where he had said he would await them, he was back at his own

camp.

The women could not walk side by side, but one had to follow the other.

The younger one carried the baby. When they saw him back at his own

fire, they became quite enraged, and one of them said to him, “A time

will come when I shall get at you.” The hunter replied, “You kill human

beings, and this is the reason why I do not want you to reach me.” One

of the women tauntingly replied, “On the other hand, you are not able

to kill anybody.” Then the hunter said, “You are very angry now, but I

am about to show you that I can kill you.” Drawing his tomahawk, he

struck a huge rock, which crumbled into small stones from the blow.

“Well!” said one of the women, “I do believe that he can kill some

persons.” Picking up his bow and arrows, the hunter aimed a shot at a

tree, which he hit with terrific force. Seeing his skill, one of the

women said, “There, he is really a man to be feared,” and she showed

signs of astonishment at his feats. The younger woman exclaimed, “We

have now come into contact with Thunder (i.e., Hinon), it seems.” But

the elder one said: “Now, I am determined to work my will. He is

dodging around in an attempt to escape, but I shall do what I intended

to do at first.”

While they were talking it grew dark and, night coming on, the hunter

could not see them but he could still hear them converse together. The

elder woman was angry to think that he had endeavored to avoid them in

every way. Having discovered who they were, the hunter was very

cautious in his movements and continually on his guard lest they come

on him unawares. Finding that, under cover of the darkness, they were

recrossing the stream on the footbridge, he went down under the water,

where he remained, going up and down in the middle of the stream bed.

When the elder woman could not find the hunter her anger was wrought up

to a high pitch against him. He remained in the water until daylight,

however, when coming up out of the stream he started off toward the

camp of his fellow hunters. He was a very swift runner and possessed

good staying powers on the race course; but when it was nearly midday

he heard a voice behind him saying: “Now I have caught up with you. Now

you are within my reach.” (The other members of this band were sad at

the loss of this man, and so they had not gone out to hunt on this

particular day.) When the fleeing hunter saw the woman overtaking him

he put forth his best efforts to maintain his exhausting pace, but he

felt his strength was fast failing him. At every sound of her voice he

fell to the ground from the effect of her orenda.[23] He knew by her

manner that she was greatly enraged at him for attempting to escape

from her.

Seeing that he could not possibly escape her by running he decided to

climb a tree. He did this none too soon, for he had just reached a

hiding place in the thick upper branches when the elder of the women

came to the tree. Like all Genonsgwa she could not look up into the

tree, for they are prevented from doing so because of the stony

covering of their bodies. In a short time the younger of the women came

up bearing the baby. Having nursed the child she said, “We will now

hurry.” Like her mother she could not look up into the tree, and so she

did not see the man. Then the elder said, “I shall keep on for the

reason that he is probably only one of a large hunting party.” As soon

as the child had finished nursing she desired to know how far the man

was ahead of them.

Taking a small, animate finger [24] from her bosom, the elder woman

placed it on the palm of her hand and asked it where the man was at

that time. In reply the finger stood on end, pointing directly at the

man in the tree. But the women, not understanding this, were somewhat

puzzled. While they were thus perplexed the hunter, realizing in a

moment the priceless value to them of the animate finger, decided to

steal it, if possible. So, slyly slipping down the tree, he struck the

ground with a bound, and before the two women realized what had

happened he had snatched the finger from them and had made good his

escape. With a wail of despair the Genonsgwa women called to the man to

give them back the finger, saying, “You will cause us much unnecessary

trouble if you do not return the finger to us.” But, finding the finger

of great service to him, he paid no heed to their pleadings.

He could run much faster since he got possession of the finger, as it

was his adviser and guide, indicating to him clearly the path to be

taken. He consulted it to learn how far he was from the camp of his

friends and in what direction the camp was located. After asking it

these questions, he would place the finger on the palm of his hand,

when it would point in a certain direction. After running some distance

he would consult again this animate finger. At last it did not stand at

an angle but pointed horizontally, and the hunter knew that he had

arrived very near the camp of his fellows. Having reached the camp, he

ate some food and regained his strength. He then told his comrades that

two Genonsgwa women were following him closely, although it is said

that after they lost the animate finger they could not go much faster

than a slow run. When the hunter had told his story the chief of the

party said, “We must gather up all our things and go home tomorrow.”

The next day, just as they had placed all their things in the canoe and

had pushed off from shore, they saw the elder of the women, who called

from the bank: “Give me back what you have stolen from me. If you will

return what belongs to me, you shall be successful; you shall always

have good luck.” She was weeping and was evidently in great distress.

Then the chief of the hunting party asked: “What did you take from her?

It may be true that we shall have greater success if you return it to

her. I think you would better do so. Show me what you took from her.”

The young hunter then drew out the animate finger and showed it to him.

The chief at once said, “Let her have it again.” The hunter replied:

“It is well. I suppose she will never molest us again.”

Now, all the party were aware that the woman was a Genonsgwa. Placing

the animate finger on the palm of his hand, the hunter held it out as

far as he could over the stream toward her. In reaching over the water

she lost her balance and fell into the stream. She sank at once, and

all that the hunters saw was bubbles arising from the water. Then the

young hunter said, “Let us be off quickly.” He retained the animate

finger, which he afterward used in all his hunting expeditions.

The party reached home safe in due time. The young hunter became noted

for his skill, owing to the animate finger, which he always consulted

and which would always point out where he would find whatever game he

wanted to kill—bear, elk, beaver, or pigeons.

So it happened that ever afterward he had a great supply of all things

good to eat and of many fine furs and feather robes.

13. THE GRANDMOTHER AND HER GRANDDAUGHTER

There was a grandmother living with her granddaughter. They had a skin

of some kind for their blanket, the hair of which had largely worn off.

Suddenly they found that the skin had become alive [24a] and was angry,

and with all their might they ran for their lives. They heard the skin

coming in fierce pursuit and it seemed very near to them. Then the

grandmother began to sing, saying in her song, “My granddaughter and I

are running our best for life; my granddaughter and I are running our

best for life.” At the end of the song she could scarcely hear the

sound of the animate skin following them. Not long afterward she heard

it more plainly, but then they were near home. When they reached the

lodge, the animate skin was so near it almost caught them. When they

jumped through the door the skin clawed at them, scratching their

backs, but they got in. The skin was a bear. The old woman and her

granddaughter were chipmunks. Chipmunks now have stripes on their backs

as the result of the scratches received by the two mentioned above.

14. THE WOMAN WHO BECAME A SNAKE FROM EATING FISH [25]

In the old times a young man and his wife lived together very happily

in a village. The young man had a hunting ground one day’s journey from

the village. There in the forest he had a lodge. He usually asked his

wife to go with him. She replied always that she would be very glad to

go and to have a good time there; thereupon he said, “Let us make ready

and go.” They would set out on their journey and would reach the place

in the evening. After making a fire and cooking their supper they would

spend the evening pleasantly.

The day after one such night the man went out and found plenty of game.

He had like success on the second and third days. Everything seemed to

be auspicious.

On the fourth day, while the man was gone, the woman saw many fish in

the neighboring stream when she went for water and decided that she

could catch some. So she caught several in the water basket. “What good

luck I have had,” said she; “my husband will be surprised to have fish

for supper.” She cooked and ate half of the fish and put the rest away

for her husband. After a while she began to be thirsty. Going to the

water basket she found it empty, so getting down on her hands and knees

she began to drink from the stream. After a while she thought that she

would stop drinking, but being still very thirsty, she drank more; then

she drank still more, and, on raising herself, she saw that she was

turning into a snake.

Meanwhile her husband came home. He did not find his wife in the lodge

and seeing no water basket, he thought she had gone for water. Hurrying

to the stream, he arrived there just in time to see her lower parts

become those of a snake. She told him what had happened with regard to

the fish—that she had had such a hunger for them that she had eaten a

good many; and that she was sorry, very sorry, to leave him, but that

she must go to the lake into which the stream flowed. She said,

further, that in the lake was a serpent with which she had to fight a

great battle, and that he might go to look on, and that he should burn

tobacco for her success in the fight.

The woman floated down the stream, and her husband followed her. He saw

the great battle in the lake. During this struggle the serpents would

raise their heads from the water higher than a great lodge, and they

fought and fought fiercely. She conquered the other serpent, but her

husband did not wait to see the end. He went home.

After a while the husband was told in a dream that he must make a

basswood woman and dress her up. He did this, using his wife’s clothes.

The figure became just like his former wife. In another dream he was

told that he must not touch the basswood woman for ten days. He

refrained from touching her for nine days. But on the tenth day—she was

so like his former wife—he touched her, whereupon she disappeared

forever, there being nothing left in her place but a basswood stick.

15. GAQGA (THE CROW) MAKES A JOURNEY AND KILLS MANY PEOPLE

A man, a Gaqga, was traveling. He did not know whence he came, nor

whither he was going. As he journeyed along he continually thought:

“How did I come to be alive? Whence did I come? Whither am I going?”

After traveling a long time, he saw smoke through the forest, and

approaching it, he found four hunters, named Djodjogis.[26] Being

afraid to go near them, he hid in the thickets and watched them. The

next morning, after they had departed to hunt, Gaqga crept up to their

camp and stole their meat, which he carried into the woods, where he

made a camp for himself. He was lonely and said, “I wish there was some

other people here.”

One morning he saw that some person was living west of his camp. Going

to the lodge, he found a man, his wife, and five children; they were

Djoñiaik [27] people. Gaqga ate the youngest child first and then he

ate the other four; in the meanwhile the father and the mother strove

to drive him away, but they could not. Then, leaving old Djoñiaik and

his wife crying for their children, he went home. Some time after this

he saw another camp off in the southeast, where he found a family of

Ganogeshegea28 people. Being afraid of the old people, he ran off, but

they ran after him and beat him on the head until they had driven him

far away. Then the man said, “Is it not a shame that such little

fellows should beat me,” but he dared not go back.

Now he roamed over all the forest, but he could not find his camp. At

last, saying, “Well, let it go; I do not care,” he walked on toward the

north. Just before dark he saw a camp. Going cautiously toward it, he

saw therein four men and a large quantity of meat. That night he hid in

the woods. Next morning, looking toward the camp, he again saw the four

hunters, and thought, “I will wait until they have gone to hunt and

then I will get their meat.”

Soon after this he heard the hunters moving around; then all became

quiet and he concluded that they had gone. He crept slowly toward the

camp, but when he reached it he could not find a bite of meat. These

were the same four brothers from whom he had stolen before. They had

now finished hunting, and had packed their meat and started for home.

Disappointed by this failure, he walked on; toward night he saw a camp,

and, creeping near it, he again saw the four hunters. He listened to

what they were saying. One said, “I wonder who stole our meat that

day.” Another said: “I think that man is walking around in the woods. I

think his name is Gaqga.” “Oh,” thought Gaqga, “they are talking about

me. They will be on the watch. How can I get their meat?” Then he said,

“I wish them all to sleep soundly.” They fell asleep, and he went up

boldly and took all their meat and hid it in the woods, saying, “This

is the kind of man I am.”

The next morning the four hunters missed their meat. One said, “Who has

stolen our meat?” Another said: “I dreamed that I saw Gaqga around

here. I saw him go off toward the southwest.” Then all said, “Let us

follow the direction given by the dream.” They started and soon came to

the place where Gaqga was camped. He had been out all night and was now

sleeping. One of the men said, “Let us kill him.” “No,” said another;

“let him live; he did not kill us while we were asleep.” They took the

meat and went away.

When Gaqga awoke he was very hungry, but the meat was gone. “Well,”

thought he, “I must go and hunt for more meat,” but he could find none.

About midday he heard the noises made by people. He listened and then

went on to a lodge. Some one inside was singing and the song said:

“Gaqga is coming. Look out. Be careful, Gaqga is coming.” “Why does he

sing about me?” thought Gaqga; “I will go inside and find out.” He

found a man and his wife and four children. Gaqga said, “I have come to

stay a few days with you.” “Very well,” replied the man of the lodge.

During the night Gaqga ate all the children; then he lay down and

slept. The next morning the old people said, “Where are our children?”

Gaqga replied: “I dreamed somebody carried off your children, and my

dream told which way he went. I will go with you to hunt them.” After

they had gone some distance Gaqga said: “The man lives on that high

cliff. I can not go with you for I do not like the man who lives there.

I will wait here.” As soon as the father was out of sight Gaqga went

away. Now he went on until he came to a place where he found many of

his own people; they were having a great dance, and he sat down to

watch them.

Soon Hanisheonon [29] [the Muckworm] came from the east. The people

stopped dancing and ran in every direction, but Hanisheonon pursued

them, and, catching them one after another by the neck, threw them off

dead. Gaqga, who sat watching, said: “What sort of a man is that? I

wish he would see me; he can not throw me off dead in that way.” After

killing many of the Gaqga people, Hanisheonon started toward the west,

with Gaqga following him, but Hanisheonon kept on his course and did

not regard the noise behind him. At last he stopped and, looking back,

asked, “What do you want?” “I do not want anything,” said Gaqga; “I

have just come to be company for you.” “I do not want your company,”

said Hanisheonon. Gaqga was frightened. Both stood still. Suddenly

Hanisheonon sprang at Gaqga and caught him, but Gaqga screamed so

loudly that all his people who had run away from Hanisheonon heard the

call and came to his aid. They flew at Hanisheonon and pecked him until

he was dead.

16. OHOHWA (THE OWL) AND THE TWO SISTERS

Two sisters of a tribe lived near the edge of a village clearing. The

chief dwelt near the center of it. The mother of these two sisters was

accustomed to pick up deer droppings to put into the hominy instead of

venison or fish. This was a custom practiced only by widows and by

families who from some misfortune were too poor to obtain meat or fish.

One day one of the sisters asked her mother to let her have some of the

droppings to mix with the hominy which she was preparing. Her aged

mother, who was a widow, replied, “You should be ashamed of yourself to

ask for such things, for you are a fine-looking woman and should marry

the chief’s son; then you would not be obliged to seek such things for

meat, for you would have a good hunter to provide you with all the meat

and fish you required.”

Somewhat abashed, the daughter answered, “Well, if my sister will go, I

will go; and if he will take us both, it will be well.” So they set to

work and prepared the usual marriage bread, and when they were ready to

start they asked their mother how the young man looked. She replied:

“He is a handsome man, with a hooked nose. Beside the fire he has two

deer heads, which are alive and open and shut their eyes whenever fuel

is placed on the fire. This young man is very strong in magic—is

possessed of potent orenda, and so he has many wild deer around his

lodge. You must be very careful lest you be deceived by his uncle, who

also has a hooked nose and very closely resembles his nephew. He will

attempt to seduce you on the way. The first large lodge you see is the

one to which you must go.”

So the daughters started and went along slowly. At last they saw a man

running around old stumps trying to catch something. He did not see

them coming. Shortly after they came in sight of him he stood

up—protruding from his mouth was the tail of a mouse. Seeing the girls,

he said, “Ho, ho, where are you two going?” “We are going to propose to

the chief’s son,” they replied. “Well, what is his appearance?” was his

next question. “Our mother said that he had a hooked nose,” came their

answer. The wily old man said, “Look at me! Is not my nose hooked?”

“Yes,” said the elder sister, “perhaps this is the man.” So they went

to his lodge, which was an old, ugly-looking place. He said to them

that he had to get his deer heads, so he got some old heads which his

nephew had cast away. His mother and his little boy sat by the fire. He

told them to keep quiet and they would have bread shortly. The child

cried out, “Father, give me some bread.” The old man said, “Why do you

not call me brother? I am your brother.” Then the old man shoved the

little boy aside and sat down near the girls. One of them said, “We

want to see the live deer you have around the lodge.” So they went

outside. This place was not far from that of the nephew. The old man

called the deer, but they ran away. Then he said to the girls, “You are

not mystically pure enough to come near those deer, for they are very

subtle.”

The girls spent the night with the old man. His bed had but few skins,

and one of the girls asked him, “Why do you not have a better bed?”

“Oh, my mother is washing the turkey-feather blanket in the creek,” he

declared.

During the night some person came to the door and said, “Old man, you

are wanted at the lodge of your nephew.” The old man paid no heed to

the summons. He was again summoned by the words, “Come! your nephew

wants you.” Then he declared that he supposed that the people had

become frightened at something and wanted him to call a council; so he

started off. After he had gone the girls said, “Let us go over and see

what is happening.” When they arrived at the lodge they heard loud

peals of laughter, and so they peeped through crevices in the bark

walls; they saw the old man dancing and before the fire a number of

mice roasting on spits. As the old man passed them in his dance he

would grasp one and eat it hot and burning, and everybody would laugh.

The girls ran back to the lodge of the old man and placed rotten logs

full of ants in their bed in order to deceive him into thinking that

they were lying there asleep. Then, taking their basket, which still

contained some bread, they went outside the lodge to watch. When the

old man returned they peered into the lodge to see what he would do.

They saw him quietly creep into the bed between the two logs. Soon he

began to be bitten by the ants. Thereupon he turned over, saying, “Do

not be jealous of your sister”; but as the biting continued, he

repeated his injunction. Finally, the ants made it so uncomfortable for

him that he sprang out of bed, and then realizing that he had been

lying between logs of wood full of ants, he bitterly upbraided his

mother, although she knew nothing of the matter.

The girls then went to the lodge of the nephew, who willingly took them

for his wives.

It was not long after this that the old man informed the people that

they must close up the smoke-holes of their lodges, for a great

pestilence was coming among them. So they did this. Then the old man,

after sharpening a beech rod, carried it wherever he went. He made a

great noise, saying: “Blue beech is coming. Blue beech is coming.” When

he arrived at his nephew’s lodge he cast the beech rod down the

smoke-hole, and it entered the breast of his nephew and killed him.

The next morning, when the people heard of the death of their chief,

everyone began to weep for him. By the death of the nephew the old man

became the chief. He said that some one must marry the girl wives of

the dead chief; so he called all the young men together, but before

they could speak their minds the wily old reprobate exclaimed, “None of

you will do.” He had asked each one for an expression of opinion, but

would not permit anyone to answer him. Then he closed the conference by

saying, “I must marry them myself.” But the girls would not remain and

quickly escaped to their own home.

The old man was an owl, but the nephew was an eagle.

17. A GREAT SNAKE BATTLE

In old times some Indians had a great battle with snakes, and this is

how it happened.

A certain man near the village of the Indians was hunting one day. He

found a rattlesnake, which he mercilessly tormented. He tied a piece of

bark around its body and passed another piece of bark through the body.

Then, fastening the snake to the ground and building a fire, he said,

“We shall fight,” as a challenge to the snake people. Afterward he

burned up the snake and tormented many other snakes in this way, always

challenging them to fight.

One day a man heard a peculiar noise. As he went near the apparent

source of the sound, he saw a large number of all kinds of snakes going

in one direction. Listening to their words, he heard them say: “We will

have a battle with them. Djisdaah [30] has challenged us.” They (the

snakes) were going to hold a council. The man overheard them say, “In

four days we shall have a battle.”

The man went back to the village and told the people what he had seen

and heard. The chief sent a number of men to the place, and as far as

they could see in all directions were snakes three or four feet deep,

all moving toward their rendezvous. The men ran back and told the chief

what they had seen. The chief said: “We can not avoid it; we have got

to fight, and so we must get ready.” To do this they cut great piles of

wood and drove stakes close together in the ground; there were two rows

of stakes the whole length of the village, and they stacked up the wood

in long piles. On the fourth day the chief told the men to set fire to

the wood in several places.

When the snakes advanced to attack the village they came right on

through the fire, and many of them were burned to death. So many rushed

into the fire that they put it out. The live snakes climbed over the

dead ones, and in spite of the resistance of the men, who were trying

in every way to kill them, they reached the second row of stakes. Here

again many were killed, but still the living climbed over the dead

above the second row of stakes, and then the battle for life began in

deep earnest. The first man they killed was Djisdaah, the man who had

challenged them, and then the snakes made for the village, and the men

stood and fought. Finally the chief shouted that he surrendered.

Then a snake, whose body was as large as a mountain, and whose head was

as large as a lodge, came right up out of the ground and said: “I am

the chief of the snakes; we will go home if you agree that as long as

the world stands you will not call any man Djisdaah and will not

maltreat my people.” The chief agreed willingly to this, and the snakes

went away.

18. THE ONGWE IAS (THE CANNIBAL) AND HIS YOUNGER BROTHER

Two brothers were in the woods on a hunting expedition, and after they

had been on the hunt a good while they had success in finding game, and

they had built a good sized lodge, in which they enjoyed everything in

common.

The elder said to the younger brother: “Now, for the future we must

live apart; let us make a partition through the middle of the lodge and

have a door at each end, so that you shall have a door to your part and

I a door to mine.” The younger brother agreed, and they made the

partition. The elder brother said further: “Now, each will live for

himself. I will not come to your room and you shall not come to mine;

when we want to say anything to each other we can talk through the

partition. You may hunt game as before—birds and animals—and live on

them, but I will hunt men and eat them. Neither of us will ever marry

or bring a woman to the lodge; if I marry, you shall kill me, if you

can, but if you marry I will try to kill you.” The brothers lived thus

apart in the same lodge, each going out to hunt alone.

One day while the brothers were out hunting, a woman came to the

younger brother’s room. The elder brother tracked her to the lodge,

caught her at the door, dragged her into his room, and killed and ate

her. When the younger brother came home the elder said, “I have had

good luck today near home.” The younger brother knew that he must have

killed and eaten the woman, but he said merely, “It is well if you have

had good luck.”

On another day the elder brother tracked a woman to his brother’s part

of the lodge and, going to the door, knocked, calling out, “Let me have

a couple of arrows; there is an elk out here.” The woman brought the

arrows, and the moment she opened the door he killed her and took her

body to his part of the lodge, where he cooked and ate it. When his

brother came back they talked through the partition as before. The

younger brother warned the next woman against opening the door; he told

her to open it for no one, not even for himself; that he would come in

without knocking.

The next time the elder brother ran to the door and knocked hurriedly,

calling out, “Give me a couple of arrows; there is a bear out here,”

the woman sat by the fire, but did not move. Again he called, “Hurry!

Give me the arrows—the bear will be gone.” The woman did not stir, but

sat quietly by the fire. After a while the elder brother went into his

part of the lodge. When the younger brother came home the woman told

him what had happened. While they were whispering the elder brother

called out: “Well, brother, you are whispering to some one. Who is it?

Have you a woman here?” “Oh,” answered the younger, “I am counting over

my game.” All was silent now for a time. The younger brother then began

whispering cautiously to the woman, saying, “My brother and I will have

a life-and-death struggle in the morning, and you must help me; but it

will be very difficult for you to do so, for he will make himself just

like me in form and voice, but you must strike him if you can.” The

woman tied to his hair a small squash shell so as to be able to

distinguish him from his elder brother. The latter again called out,

“You have a woman; you are whispering to her.” The younger brother

denied it no longer.

In the morning the brothers went out to fight with clubs and knives.

After breaking their weapons they clenched and rolled on the ground;

sometimes one was under and sometimes the other. The elder was exactly

like the younger and repeated his words. Whenever the younger cried,

“Strike him!” the elder cried out almost at the same time, “Strike

him!” The woman was in agony, for she was unable to tell which to

strike. At last she caught sight of the squash shell, and then she

struck a heavy blow and finished the elder brother.

They gathered a great pile of wood and, laying the body on the pile,

set fire to the wood and burned up the flesh. When the flesh was

consumed they scattered the burnt bones. Then the younger brother

placed the woman in the core of a cat-tail flag, which he put on the

point of his arrow and shot far away to the west. Running through the

heart of the upper log of the lodge, he sprang after the woman and,

coming to the ground, ran with great speed and soon found where the

arrow had struck. The cat-tail flag had burst open and the woman was

gone. He soon overtook her and they traveled on together. He told her

she must make all speed, for the ghost of his brother would follow

them.

The next morning they heard the whooping of some one in pursuit. The

younger brother said, “My brother has come to life again and is

following; he will destroy us if he can overtake us.” Thereupon he

turned the woman into a half-decayed stump and, taking off his

moccasins and telling them to run on ahead,[31] he secreted himself a

short distance away. “Go quickly through swamps and thicket and over

mountains and ravines, and come to me by a round-about way at noon

tomorrow,” he said to the moccasins.

When the elder brother reached the rotten stump he looked at it and,

seeing something like nostrils, put his finger in and almost made the

woman sneeze. Though suspicious of the tree, he followed the moccasin

tracks swiftly all day and night.

At the break of day the younger brother and the woman continued their

journey. At noon the elder brother came back to the place where he saw

the stump and not finding it, he was in a terrible rage. He knew now

that he had been deceived. He continued to follow the tracks, and on

the second day the pursued couple heard his whoop again. Taking out of

his pouch a part of the jaw of a beaver with a couple of teeth in it,

the younger brother stuck it into the ground, saying, “Let all the

beavers come and build a dam across the world, so that the waters may

rise to his neck, and let all the beavers in the world bite him when he

tries to cross.” Then he and the woman ran on.

When the elder brother came up, the dam was built and the water

neck-deep; finding that the tracks disappeared in the water, he said,

“If they have gone through I, too, can go through.” When the water

reached his breast all the beavers began to bite him, and he was forced

to turn back and look for another crossing. All day he ran but could

find no end to the dam and cried out, “I have never heard before of a

beaver dam across the world.” He then ran to the place whence he had

started. The dam was gone and all that remained was a bit of beaver jaw

with two teeth in it. He saw his brother’s work in this and was now

raving with anger. He rushed along with all speed.

The second day after the younger brother and the woman heard his whoop

again. Taking out a pigeon feather from his pouch, the younger brother

placed it behind him on the ground, saying, “Let all the pigeons of the

world come and leave their droppings here, so that my brother may not

pass.” All the pigeons of the world came, and soon there was a ridge of

droppings 6 feet high across the country. When the elder brother came

up he saw the tracks disappearing in the ridge; thereupon he said, “If

they have crossed I, too, can cross it.” He walked into it but he could

not get through, and so he turned back with great difficulty and ran

eastward to look for an opening; he ran all day, but the ridge was

everywhere. He cried in anger, “I have never known such a thing.” Going

back, he slept until morning, when he found that all was clean—nothing

to be seen but a pigeon feather sticking in the ground. He hurried on

in a frenzy of rage.

After dropping the feather the younger brother and woman ran until they

came to an old man mending a great fish net. The old man said: “I will

stop as long as I can the man who is chasing you. You have an aunt who

lives west of here, by the roadside. The path passes between two ledges

of rock which move backward and forward so quickly that whoever tries

to pass between is crushed, but if you beg of her to stop them for a

moment she will do so and will give you information.” They hurried on

until they came to the woman, their aunt, and prayed her to let them

pass. She stopped the rocks long enough for them to spring through,

saying: “Your path is through a river, on the other side of which is a

man with a canoe; beckon to him and he will come and take you over;

beyond the river is a whole army of Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, but they will

not harm you. A little dog wagging his tail will run to meet you.

Follow him and he will lead you to an opening in which is your mother’s

lodge. The dog will enter—follow him.”

When the elder brother came to the old man who was mending his net he

passed, and, pushing him rudely, called out, “Did anyone pass here?”

The old man did not answer. Then he struck him a blow on the head with

his club. When he did that the old man threw the net over him and he

became entangled and fell. After struggling to get out for a long time,

he tore himself free and hurried on. When he reached the old woman

where the rocks were opening and closing, he begged her to stop them,

but she would not; so, waiting for a chance, he finally jumped, but was

caught and half his body was crushed; he rubbed it with spittle and was

cured. Then he hurried on in still greater fury. When he came to the

river he shouted to the man in the canoe, but the man paid no heed;

again he shouted, and then he swam across. On the other side he found

an immense forest of withered trees, which for miles had been stripped

of their bark and killed by the hammering of turtle-shell rattles by

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, keeping time with them while dancing. These

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, turning upon him immediately, hammered all the flesh

off of him; they then hammered all his bones until there was not a

trace of him left. When the mother saw her son and his wife she was

very happy, and said: “I am so glad you have come. I was afraid your

elder brother who took you away would kill you. I knew he would try to

do so. Now you will always stay with me.”

19. HAIEÑDOÑNIS AND YENOGEAUNS [29]

One day Haieñdoñnis, carrying all his small effects, was walking along

through the forest. It seems that he did not know where he came from,

nor did he know to what particular place he was going, although he well

knew that he was going in a northerly direction. Wherever evening

overtook him there he would place his bundle on the ground and get into

it, when he had no hollow tree to enter, and thus spend the night. In

this way he traveled many days.

One morning he came to a steep precipice; here he began to wonder how

he might be able to descend its face with so large a pack on his back.

At last he placed his pack on the ground, and, hastening to a basswood

tree standing some distance away, he stripped all the bark from it,

which he slit into fine strands. Tying the strips together, end to end,

he made a long strand, one end of which he fastened to a hemlock tree

standing on the brink of the precipice and the other he let down over

the brink. Then taking hold of the strand near the hemlock tree, he

carefully lowered himself over the edge of the cliff. He was soon at

the end of the strand and there he hung. His bundle pulled down the

upper part of his body until he was in an almost horizontal position,

with his face turned upward, so he could not see just where he was.

Although he was near the ground he did not know it. Feeling that his

situation was critical, he thought: “What shall I do now? Would it not

be better for me to kill myself by letting go of the strand, for I can

not get up, nor can I in any manner descend.” Finally he decided to let

go of the rope of basswood bark and fall to the bottom of the

precipice; but, as he released his grip, his pack touched the ground

and his head rested on the pack. He thought, however, that he was

falling all the time. At last he felt weary of falling, and said, “I

will try to turn over on one side, so that I can see whither I am

going.” So turning himself on one side he found that he was on the

ground, and he exclaimed, “I have been greatly delayed by not knowing

that the ground was at the end of the strand of basswood bark.” So

saying he arose and went on.

When darkness came he found, after diligent search, a hollow tree, in

which he spent the night. In this manner he traveled for many days.

Finally he decided to find a place in which to dwell, and he resolved

that it must be a place where the trees stood only a short distance

apart. Having found such a spot, he built a small cabin, in which he

put his pack. Then he began to arrange his things in order—skins and

furs, ladles and bark bowls, pouch and weapons.

The next morning he went out very early to hunt for food. Soon he saw a

deer walking along, and on pointing his finger at it the deer fell

dead. Then he carried its carcass home on his back. He then ordered

that it skin itself, and this it did. He cut the carcass into suitable

portions, some of which he hung up around the inside of the cabin and

some he roasted for his meal. That night he found that he had no

firewood. Going out of doors, he said in a loud voice, “Let wood for

fuel come and pile itself beside my doorway.” The wish thus expressed

was immediately accomplished.

This remarkable man had an influence over every kind of game. When he

desired a particular animal, all that he had to do was to point his

finger at it, and the victim would fall dead. In this way he was able

to kill much game in a day. When he returned to his small cabin he did

not carry the game, but would stand at the door and say, “Let the game

which I have killed be piled up beside my doorway.” When this was done

he would say, “Let the skins come off and the meat be quartered, put up

to dry, and be smoked.” Then he would enter his cabin, paying no

further attention to the game. In the morning he would find the meat

hanging up to dry and a large heap of skins lying at his door. He would

then spend the day in tanning the skins.

One day while he was out hunting he saw Gaasyendietʻha,[32] whereupon

he pointed his finger at him and Gaasyendietʻha at once fell dead.

Haieñdoñnis took off his skin for a pouch. Going some distance farther,

he beheld a panther. On pointing his finger at it, the panther fell

dead and he then skinned it. In like manner he killed and skinned a

fox. With these three skins he was enabled to make three pouches,

which, on his arrival at his home, he hung on the wall of his cabin.

After a while the thought came to him, “What shall I do with these

three pouches?” Then he took down the pouch made of the skin of

Gaasyendietʻha and commanded it, saying, “Stand upright here.”

Instantly Gaasyendietʻha stood there before him alive. Then Haieñdoñnis

made the other two pouches come to life in the same manner, and there

they stood inside his cabin. Meanwhile the rumor spread that

Haieñdoñnis had settled down in that place and that he was possessed of

potent orenda, or mighty magic power, and that he was a sorcerer

through possession of this mysterious potency, which worked good for

his friends and evil for his enemies.

Not far from the cabin of the mysterious Haieñdoñnis stood the lodge of

a woman and her three daughters. The mother was reputed to be a great

witch, and it was said that she had come there to dwell because no one

in the settlement of her tribe wanted to live near her.

One day she said to her three daughters, “Let us pound corn for meal

and make corn bread.” So, having prepared the corn for the mortar, they

began to pound it, each using a pestle. The corn was soon reduced to

meal and the mother made it into corn bread. Filling a basket with

this, she said to her eldest daughter, Deyondennigongenyons,[33] who

was a very handsome girl, “I want you to go to Haieñdoñnis’s lodge to

learn whether he will marry you or not.” They lived one-half day’s

journey from Haieñdoñnis. Willingly obeying her mother, the girl

started with the basket of corn bread.

Haieñdoñnis saw the woman coming with a basket on her back, and he

exclaimed: “Hoho! There is a woman coming. I think that she is coming

to see me. I do wonder if indeed she desires to marry me.” Then,

addressing the pouch, Gaasyendietʻha, he said: “I want you to go yonder

and to stand beside that tree there. You, Panther, stand a little

nearer to the cabin, and you, Fox, stand in the doorway of the cabin.”

As the woman drew near Haieñdoñnis sat smoking his pipe. She came quite

close to Gaasyendietʻha, but as she walked with her head down at first

she did not see him; but when just in front of him she noticed

something, and, looking up, saw so fierce-looking a person that

instinctively she turned back and fled. As she ran along the bread all

fell out of her basket, so when she reached home there was none left.

Her mother, Yenogeauns, asked her, “What is the matter?” But she was

entirely out of breath and could not answer. Haieñdoñnis was laughing,

for he saw her run all the way home.

After several days the mother said to her daughters, “We will again

make corn bread.” Soon the girls had prepared and pounded the corn into

meal, which the mother made into bread. Then she addressed her second

daughter, Yonwithahon,[34] saying: “Take this basket and go to the

lodge of Haieñdoñnis and see if he will marry you. Your sister was a

great coward, and so she failed.” Obeying her mother, the girl started

on her journey.

Haieñdoñnis saw her coming and said: “Here comes another woman. She

will soon be scattering her corn bread, too.” So he stationed the

living pouches as he had before. The girl came along with her head down

until she reached Gaasyendietʻha, and, seeing him, she said, “I need

not be afraid,” and passed on. In like manner she passed Panther, and

came to the doorway; there before her stood a man rubbing something

against the door which frightened her greatly, and she screamed and

fled homeward. On her way she likewise lost all the bread out of her

basket. Seeing her flight, Haieñdoñnis laughed at her, too.

Haieñdoñnis hunted a good deal and was accustomed to clean intestines

of the game he had killed and fill them with blood and pieces of fat

and meat, and so cook them. He cooked many of these and hung them over

his couch.

After a few days had elapsed the old woman said to her daughters, “Let

us make another trial.” It would seem that the mother well knew what

had happened to her daughters who had made the journey to the lodge of

Haieñdoñnis. So they made corn bread of such kind as was customary in

proposals for marriage, and they filled a basket with it. Then the wily

old mother said to her youngest daughter, Yenongäa: “You make the

attempt this time. Do not notice anything or fear anything, but go

directly to the lodge of Haieñdoñnis.” The dutiful daughter replied

with some inward misgivings: “It is well. I will try,” and, taking up

the basket of bread, she started.

Now, Haieñdoñnis soon saw her coming, and he exclaimed: “Is it not

wonderful what small value these people place on bread? They come here

with it and then run off, scattering it along the path as they flee.

Now this one is coming with a basketful on her back, and I suppose that

she will run off, dropping it along the way behind her.” He watched her

come up to Gaasyendietʻha, and saw her look at him and then strike him,

so that he fell to the ground. She saw that this seemingly ferocious

figure was only the animated skin of Gaasyendietʻha. So coming up to

Panther, she dealt with him as she had with Gaasyendietʻha. On arriving

at the door where her second sister had thought she saw a man, Yenongäa

went up to Fox and struck him a blow with her hand; down he fell, for

he, too, was nothing but a pouch of fox skin, the tail of which the

wind had been brushing against the flap of the doorway, the occurrence

which frightened her sister. The other sisters had thought that living

beings stood before them.

Now, when Haieñdoñnis saw her doing these things, he thought, “She will

surely come into the lodge; so I must get my pipe and pretend to be an

old man.” On entering the lodge, Yenongäa inquired, “Where is

Haieñdoñnis?” Receiving no answer, she repeated her question, and then

Haieñdoñnis replied in an old man’s accents. “It seems to me that I

hear a woman’s voice.” So she called in a louder tone. Then he looked

up, saying, “I do not think that he is at home, or that he will return

before the end of ten days.” The unabashed young woman replied, “It is

well. Then I will come in ten days,” and started for home.

At the end of ten days the youngest daughter again set out for the

lodge of Haieñdoñnis. When she drew near he saw her, and said to

himself, “Now I shall change myself into a small boy.” On this visit

the young woman paid no attention to the animated pouches representing

Gaasyendietʻha, Panther, and Fox, but went directly to the doorway and

stood there. On making her presence known, she heard the voice of a

small boy say, “Come in.” After entering the lodge she asked, “Where is

Haieñdoñnis?” The answer came: “He has just gone out. He has gone to

the other side of the world.” “How long will he be gone?” was her next

inquiry. “Oh!” came the reply, “he said that he would be gone about ten

days.” Then she assured the small boy that she would return in that

time.

At the end of the time Haieñdoñnis saw her coming again, and resolved

to make himself invisible this time, to deceive her. So when she had

made her way into the lodge and set her basket down, she looked around

but saw no one. Then, saying, “I will wait a while,” she sat down on

the couch of Haieñdoñnis. The situation was so amusing that Haieñdoñnis

laughed out loud, and the young woman, becoming frightened, arose and

fled home, where she arrived quite ashamed of herself, for she had left

her basket of corn bread. Her mother asked, “Where is the basket of

corn bread?” but she made no reply, knowing that her mother was aware

of what had taken place. The mother then heated water and prepared to

wash her daughter clean, for she saw that some of the deer intestines

which hung in the lodge of Haieñdoñnis were clinging to her daughter.

The old woman took them with the remark: “I am thankful to you. These

are good meat. You shall go there again to-morrow.”

So the next morning she went again, and when Haieñdoñnis saw her he

laughed, saying, “I think that all the intestines will go this time.”

On entering the lodge she saw Haieñdoñnis in his real shape. He asked

her what she was going to do with the basket of bread which she had

left in his lodge. She replied, “My mother sent me to live with you as

your wife.” He replied, “It is well, and I agree to it,” and from that

time they lived together as man and wife. These two were evil-minded,

wicked people, who were full of the orenda, or magic power, of

sorcerers, and all wizards and witches in the world knew just the

moment that they became man and wife.

The next morning Yenongäa said to her husband that she desired to visit

her mother. Haieñdoñnis readily gave his consent to her going; so she

went to her home. At once her mother began to work over her for the

purpose of endowing her with much more evil-working orenda, and she

instructed her, too, how to enslave her husband. She also said to her,

“You must urge him to come to live with us.” The young woman returned

to her husband, who, on looking at her, discovered that she was being

equipped to enslave him. But he foiled her this time and every

succeeding time that she undertook to do so. She went to her mother’s

lodge for a long time. Finally, Haieñdoñnis became wearied by this

conduct of his wife and her mother, and said to himself: “I wonder why

they act in this manner. I think that it would be well for me to

destroy her people.” To this he made up his mind.

The next morning she again told him that she was going to visit her

mother. After she had started Haieñdoñnis followed her. By taking a

circuitous route he got ahead of his wife, arriving at her mother’s

lodge before she did. Rushing into the lodge, he faced the old woman.

He said to her, “I have come to fight with you,” and the aged hag

graciously accepted his challenge. So they at once began fighting with

war clubs, and were fighting fiercely when the wife entered the lodge.

She wondered how her husband had passed her. She stood there powerless

to aid either one. The combatants kept on fighting until Haieñdoñnis

was certain that the old mother and the two elder daughters were dead.

Then addressing his wife, he said, “You go off yonder a little way,”

and she willingly obeyed him. Thereupon he set the lodge on fire, and

the flames were soon rising high. After the fire had died out somewhat

there were a number of explosions among the embers, sounding pop! pop!

Then up flew a horned owl, a common owl, and a screech owl to the upper

limbs of a tree standing near the scene. These were owls in human form.

Thus were the three women utterly destroyed. Then Haieñdoñnis said to

his wife, “Let us go home now.” But she stood there looking in one

direction; she seemed spellbound. At last her husband took her by the

arm, again saying, “Let us go home,” and she turned and followed him.