There was an old woman Yegondji of the Awaeh people with three

daughters who had grown to young womanhood. One day she said: “My

daughters, I have had a great deal of trouble in rearing you, and thus

far I have not eaten anything but onehsa [moss]; now I should like to

have some meat to eat. You are old enough to get married. There is a

rich woman of the Donyonda people, named Doendjowens, who has a son,

Tagonsowes. He is a good young man and a great hunter. I want two of

you to go to her lodge and marry this son.”

The girls set to pounding corn for the marriage bread. The old woman

baked 22 cakes in the ashes, which she wrapped in corn husks. The next

morning she dressed the girls’ hair and painted their faces with red

stripes. She told the elder to carry the basket, and cautioned them,

saying, “Stop nowhere until you come to the lodge of Doendjowens, and

do not inquire of anyone on the way, or speak to any man.” The elder

daughter took the basket and the younger followed her.

About midday they saw a middle-aged man of the Ohohwa people running

across the road, who was saying: “I have lost my arrow. I was shooting

a fisher on a tree and the arrow has gone so far that I can not find

it.” The elder daughter put her basket on a log and both girls hunted

for the arrow. The strange man ran around the girls, and seizing the

basket of marriage bread, carried it home. The younger sister did not

like hunting for the arrow and reminded her sister of what their mother

had said, but still she had to follow her elder sister. After a while,

failing to find the arrow, they returned to the log; discovering that

the basket was gone, both girls went home. The mother asked them what

had become of the bread. The younger said, “A man asked us to look for

his arrow, and I think that he stole it.” The old woman scolded them,

saying: “You do not love me. You know that I am suffering for meat, and

still you disobey me.” Then she said to the younger girl, “We will make

more marriage bread to-morrow and you and your youngest sister shall go

this time.”

The next day they made 22 loaves of marriage bread. The day following,

after the old woman had dressed their hair and had given them the same

cautioning as before, the two girls set out. Going by the same road,

they again met the Ohohwa man, whom they asked how far it was to the

lodge of Doendjowens. “Oh,” he said, “it is not so far. It is right

over here,” showing them his own lodge. There they found Ohohwa’s wife

and one little boy. The girls put down the marriage bread near the

woman, thinking that she was Doendjowens.

When the man came home he sent his wife to the other side of the fire,

telling her to pretend that he was her brother. She did so. He sat

between the girls, talking to them. Soon the little boy began to say,

“Father! Father!” Thereupon Ohohwa said: “This is my sister’s son. His

father was buried yesterday and the boy is calling for him.” Then

Ohohwa began to cry for his brother-in-law.

At last somebody was heard running. He came and kicked at the door,

calling, “Ohohwa, they want you at Doendjowens’s long lodge.” Ohohwa

said to the girls: “They are always using nicknames here. My real name

is Tagonsowes.” He continued: “They are holding a council and can not

get on without me, so I must go. You lie down here whenever you like,

and I will come home soon.” Then he went away to attend the council.

The younger girl whispered: “Let us go out. This is not Tagonsowes’s

lodge. If we could get the basket we might go on.” When Ohohwa’s wife

fell asleep the younger girl took the basket of marriage bread out of

doors, saying: “We must go on. Let us put two elm logs in the bed.”

They did so, and started away.

Soon they came to an open place in the center of which stood a council

lodge. They stood near the lodge and, peeping through a crack in the

side of it, saw Doendjowens, a fine-looking woman and her son, who sat

near her, a splendid young man. There were two fireplaces in the lodge.

There were also many people, men and women. Ohohwa was in the lodge,

and the people were singing for him to dance. As he danced they threw

pieces of meat into his mouth and struck his blanket with fat. He was a

sight to look at. The girls recognized him.

The younger daughter now went into the lodge followed by the elder, who

put the basket of marriage bread near Doendjowens. The two sisters sat

on each side of the young man, and Doendjowens was glad, for she liked

the two girls. All sat and looked at Ohohwa. Just as he looked at

Doendjowens he had his mouth full of mush, and he saw the sisters

there. Dropping his blanket in astonishment, he ran out. The people

wondered what the matter was with him. Ohohwa ran home. There he saw,

as he thought, the two girls in bed, so he sat down on the couch and

smoked a while. As he sat there, he was pinched several times by black

ants. Turning to the bed he said, “Wait a while. I shall be there

soon.” At last, having finished smoking, he undressed; then he

discovered that what he had taken for the girls were two logs.

The daughters of the Awaeh Yegondji lived with Tagonsowes and were

contented. He was a good hunter and they had plenty of everything to

eat.

After a time Doendjowens said to the wife, her daughter-in-law: “You

must go home and take your mother some meat. She is suffering for it, I

know.” So making ready a pack of meat, she caused it to become small.

On reaching home she threw down the pack, and it became as large as

ever. Before the sisters set out for home Doendjowens said: “You must

bring your mother here. I will give her one fire in the lodge as her

own to use.” After Awaeh Yegondji had eaten enough meat and was glad,

her daughters brought her to Doendjowens’s lodge, where she lived happy

and contented.

30. THE CREATION OF MAN

(MODERN FOLK EXPLANATION)

God at first created the sun and the moon. One day while walking about

on the earth, becoming lonely, he said, “I will make a human being to

keep me company.” He held his way until he came to an uprooted hemlock,

which had raised a great pile of earth with its upturned roots. Now,

the roots of the hemlock are very numerous and slender and are covered

with tufted rootlets for, as the tree grows on thin, pale, sandy soil,

it needs many feeders to provide the necessary sustenance. God made a

human being from the earth piled up among the roots of this tree. There

were so many small fibers in this earth that the human being was

seemingly hairy, and the soil was so poor and light-colored that he had

a pale, sickly complexion. God breathed on him and he stood up and

walked. Then God looked at him from behind the roots of the tree, but

being not pleased with his creation, he resolved that he would try

again.

God soon came to a walnut tree lying uprooted, which had pulled up with

its roots a mound of black earth. From this earth God made another

human being. As he looked at him, he saw that, being black, he had too

much color. So God was not satisfied with this piece of work, either.

Going on farther, he came at last to an uprooted sugar maple. There the

earth had a fine deep color; so out of this God made the third human

being, whose body was smooth and firm and of a full rich tint. And God,

pleased with his looks, said, “He will do; he looks like me.” This last

human being was an Indian; thus the Indian was the native human being.

31. GANIAGWAIHEGOWA

Once a Seneca warrior was missing from his village. It was thought that

his disappearance was due to witchcraft in the neighborhood. A party of

skilled men was formed to find out the cause of his unexplained

disappearance. They discovered great tracks near the village, which

they followed to a cave in the woods. Making a large fire, they threw

burning brands into the cave. In a short time a Ganiagwaihegowa came

out. They shot arrows at the beast, but none of these injured him, for

he was full of evil orenda. But, while the bear was rushing around, he

happened to raise his fore feet, and when the men shot him there, he

died instantly, for it is said that the life of the Ganiagwaihegowa is

in the soles of his fore feet, and that this bear is vulnerable in no

other spot.

The Ganiagwaihegowa used to eat common bears. No bear but this would

eat a bear and no other kind of bear could be killed by being shot in

the feet.

32. THE MAN WHO BECAME A FISH, AND A GANIAGWAIHE

Two young warriors, who were cousins, started on a hunting expedition.

Having arrived at their destination, they constructed a temporary camp.

Some time after camping they heard a very peculiar noise, and one of

the cousins said, “I am going to see what is making that sound.” On

investigation he found that the sound came from a hollow tree, so he

concluded naturally that it was caused by a bear. Going back to the

camp, he said to his companion, “There must be a bear in that hollow

tree, although the noise which it makes is like that of a whirlwind.”

Then they both went to the tree to investigate further the cause of the

peculiar sounds. One climbed the tree to take a look into the cavity.

At first he could see nothing, but finally he saw at the bottom of the

hollow cavity a spotted trout, which was leaping around swiftly in

water collected there. Crawling into the hole, he captured the trout

with his hand. On getting out, he threw the fish down to his cousin,

who said: “This is a curious fish. Let us take it back to camp.” The

other replied, “No! Do not touch it; it may be something that will

bring us harm.” But the other young man would not heed this advice.

Taking the fish to camp, he cleaned, cooked, and ate it. When he had

finished eating, he began to be very thirsty, and said to his

companion, “Go and get me some water, cousin.” The cousin brought him

water, and the other drank and kept on drinking, seeming to be unable

to get enough water.

Then his cousin said to him, “Do you not think that the fish is making

you ill?” The only reply was, “Oh! get me more water. Take my moccasins

and get me plenty.” He brought both moccasins full of water, which the

thirsty man drank at once. At last the man who was not ill said, “I am

tired of getting water for you; go to the spring and there you can

drink all you want.” Visiting the springs he drank until he was tired

of drinking; then he rested, and then he began to drink still more.

The cousin, being busy around the camp, did not pay much attention to

the sick man, but after a while he went to the spring to look after his

cousin. Arriving there, he was frightened when he saw him, for his

mouth had become like that of a fish. He asked the sick man how he

felt. The other replied, “Oh, about as usual.” Then came the query,

“Does not your mouth feel queer?” Putting up his hand, the afflicted

youth found that his mouth had grown large, but still kept on drinking.

His companion hurried back to the camp in sorrow. The next time he went

to the spring he found that his cousin had become a fish to the waist.

Later, when he went again to the spring, his cousin had completely

changed into a fish, and had gone into the spring. The following

morning his cousin had become a great fish, dwelling far under the

water, and the spring had grown into a large pond.

The man sat down on the bank of the pond. Soon the great fish, raising

its head out of the water, said: “My poor cousin, you see how I have

turned into a fish. Go home and tell my parents what has become of me.

When you need fish, come to this pond and you shall get all you want.

This pond will always be full of fish.”

The man went home, where he told everyone what had befallen his

companion. The people then visited the pond, whereupon the great fish,

lifting its head above the surface, said, “I shall not long be a fish,

for I shall soon become a Ganiagwaihe.” Then the people departed.

In a short time the great fish became a Ganiagwaihe, having hair only

on its back and feet. It remained around the lake, and of those who

came there to fish it always killed and ate one. The people did not see

this done, but always missed one of their number at that place. They

did not like this at all, knowing that if the fish continued to live

there long it would kill many persons. The people therefore assembled

in council to decide how to get rid of the great fish. At last two or

three young men agreed to go there and try to kill the Ganiagwaihe; but

they never returned. Men who went to find them recovered only their

garments.

Finally the cousin of the man who had become a Ganiagwaihe said: “I

shall now go. Perhaps I may be able to kill it.” So they prepared for

him parched corn, new moccasins, and a very good bow and twelve fine

arrows. Having arrived at the pond, he camped there. That night he

dreamed that his cousin, appearing to him in the form of a man, asked

him: “Why did you come? I can kill you.” The other answered, “I have

come to kill you because you are doing great harm to our people.” Then

Ganiagwaihe said, “I shall start at daylight, and you pursue me and see

if you can catch me.”

Early the next morning the young man started in the direction the

Ganiagwaihe had indicated it would flee, and, running as swiftly as he

could, he kept up the pursuit until midday, when he saw the tracks of

the Ganiagwaihe. Thereupon he shouted in triumph: “Now I shall kill

you. I shall soon overtake you now.” Then he ran faster than he had

been running before. He ran until night, when he camped and built a

fire. On looking at his bundle of corn flour he found that it had

become ants; so he had nothing to eat. This mishap was caused by the

Ganiagwaihe in order to deprive the man of food. It was now night.

While the young man sat there thinking about his situation he heard the

approach of footsteps. He knew that it was his cousin, the Ganiagwaihe,

and he was ready to take aim when the Ganiagwaihe called: “Stop,

cousin! Hold, until I can have a talk with you. If you will permit me

to escape this time, I will start early in the morning and will leave

this part of the country forever, and I will injure your people no

more.” The young man replied: “If you are in earnest in what you have

just said, I will spare your life. You know that too many have already

been killed by you, and you must stop killing our people at once.”

Thoroughly frightened, the Ganiagwaihe agreed to this; and, having bade

each other farewell, they parted.

The next morning the young man went home, where he told the people what

had occurred, adding: “You can now fish in the pond as much as you

desire; there is no one to give you trouble now.” So it came to pass

that the Ganiagwaihe kept his word to his cousin.

33. A DEAD MAN SPEAKS TO HIS MOTHER THROUGH THE FIRE

An old woman and her son lived in a lodge in a certain village, and a

brother and his sister in another. The old woman’s son and the brother

were of the same height and looked so much alike that they could

scarcely be known from each other; they were great friends.

The son often visited the brother and sister, and the brother found out

that he thought of marrying his sister, who was yet very young, when

she became old enough. The brother was not pleased with this prospect,

so he made up his mind to kill his friend. The next time the latter

came the brother killed him. Digging a deep hole under the fireplace

and putting the body therein, he covered it with earth, and made a fire

again over the spot.

The mother waited for her son, but he did not come home. Then she went

to the other lodge and asked, “Where is my son?” “He left here to go

home. It may be he is in the woods now. He said he was going to cut

wood for arrows,” answered the young man.

When the woman went out the brother started off and, cutting wood,

quickly ran to her lodge, where he sat down and began to whittle

arrows. Soon afterward she came in. Turning to her, he asked, “Where

have you been, mother?” “Oh! I have been over at your friend’s lodge.”

She failed to detect any difference between her son’s voice and his. He

said, “Well, mother, I am going over there a while.” Putting up the

arrows and running home, he said: “I am afraid, my sister, that there

is impending danger and that we are going to die. Hurry to the spring

and leave your pail there: then run around in every direction so as to

make many trails and come back to the lodge.”

Going to the spring, the girl covered the ground with tracks and

returned. The brother said, “I am now going to put you into the head of

my arrow and send you off to a safe place.” Taking hold of his sister’s

arm, he shook her until she became very small; then opening the

arrowhead, he put her into the cavity, and after carefully securing her

there, said: “I am going to shoot you toward the east. When the arrow

strikes the ground you must jump out and run. I will soon overtake

you.” Standing by the fireplace, he shot the arrow out of the

smoke-hole. In due time it came down on a stone far off in the east,

when the arrow burst and the girl came out and ran off.

After running around in circles and making many tracks around the

lodge, the brother then went up the smoke-hole and stood on the roof.

There was visible a long streak, or trail, which the arrow had made

through the air. Running under this trail, he soon came to the spot

where the arrow had struck the stone, and then he followed his sister’s

tracks.

The old woman, the murdered man’s mother, growing tired of waiting for

her son, went over to the neighboring lodge to see what he was doing.

She found the lodge empty. While sitting there by the fire, a voice

spoke to her out of the flames, saying: “My friend has killed me. My

friend has killed me.” Thereupon she dug down under the hearth until

she found her son’s body. On reaching home she became a

Ganiagwaihegowa. Then she followed the girl’s tracks to the spring and

back again to the lodge. She could find no one in the lodge. At last,

looking up through the smoke-hole, she saw the trail of the arrow

through the air. Hurrying out, she ran toward the east.

In the meantime the young man had overtaken his sister before she had

gone far from the stone. After a while they heard the roaring of

Ganiagwaihegowa. The girl trembled from great fear and grew weak. Her

brother encouraged her. Stopping at night, they lay down and slept a

little. The young man dreamed that a woman came to him, saying: “You

think you and your sister are about to die, but you are not; here is a

stone with which to defend yourself. Tomorrow about noon throw this

piece of stone behind you, with the words, ‘Let there be a ridge of

rocks across the world so high that nothing can climb over or pass

it.’”

In the morning he saw near the brush lodge the very stone he had seen

in his dream. He took this piece of stone with him. Before midday they

heard the roaring of Ganiagwaihegowa. At noon the young man threw the

piece of rock behind him, and at that moment a ridge of rocks, rising

so high that no living thing could climb over it, stretched itself

across the world.

On coming to the ridge the Ganiagwaihegowa saw that the tracks of the

brother and sister went through the wall. She clambered up and then

fell backward, howling terribly and crying, “I will overtake and eat

them both.” The young man’s sister heard the words of the monster. The

Ganiagwaihegowa ran toward the north, but could find no end to or

opening in the wall of rocks. Then, coming back, the monster ran to the

south, but could find no end there. Once more returning, she lay down

near the tracks by the wall. It was now night. The Ganiagwaihegowa

staid there until morning. On rising she was greatly surprised at

finding nothing but a small stone in her way. Picking up the stone, she

ground it to powder in her mouth, and then, roaring terribly, went on.

The brother and sister had now gone far ahead. Toward noon they heard

the roaring of the Ganiagwaihegowa and knew that she was drawing near.

Taking a pigeon feather from his pouch, the young man threw it behind

him, saying, “Let there be a thick rampart of pigeon droppings across

the world, so high that nothing can pass over it or go through it.”

Then he hurried on with his sister. Soon the bear rushed up to the

rampart in a fearful rage. She tried to climb the rampart, but could

not do so. Then she tried to push through it, but went out of sight in

the filth, nearly smothered, and had hard work to get out. Then the

monster ran as fast as possible to find an opening, but without

success; so, coming back at night, she lay down and slept until

morning, when she found nothing in the way but a feather. This she bit

and chewed to pieces.

The brother and sister came to a great wood, all the trees of which

were dried up and leafless. They found a lodge, which they entered. An

old man, who was their uncle, was sitting inside. They told him their

trouble; whereupon he said, “I will do all I can for you, but you have

another uncle living not far from here who can help you much better

than I can.” The old man was engaged in chipping flints. When he got a

handful of flint chips he would fling them out at the trees; in this

way he had killed the whole forest, for he had great powers of

witchcraft.

The brother and sister then went to the next lodge. The old uncle whom

they had left had a heap of flint chips piled up near him. When he

heard the Ganiagwaihegowa coming he struck it again and again with the

chips. But the Ganiagwaihegowa did not turn away; coming up to the

door, she asked the old man, “Have you seen a couple of persons pass

here?” “No,” said he, “I pay no attention to anyone who comes.”

Thereupon the monster crushed his head, thus killing him. Then,

discovering the tracks, the Ganiagwaihegowa said, “They have gone

ahead; it is too bad that I have killed the old man.” Roaring loudly,

she rushed on. “I will overtake you and eat you,” she said.

Soon the brother and sister came to the other uncle. After hearing of

their troubles he said, “I will help you all I can, but hurry on until

you come to another uncle.” Then he made a trap on the trail, and near

that a second and a third. When the Ganiagwaihegowa came up, she rushed

into the first trap, where she struggled a long time. Finally, breaking

through this trap, the monster went on until she got into the second

trap. After a longer struggle she broke through this, only to fall into

the third trap, from which also she escaped at last. Coming soon to the

third old man, the Ganiagwaihegowa asked, “Have you seen a couple of

persons pass this way?” “I have not,” was the reply, whereupon the

monster, seizing the old man, ground him to pieces with her teeth.

Then, finding the tracks of the young couple, she said: “Here are the

tracks again; they have passed on. I am sorry that I killed the old

man.”

The brother and sister went to the third uncle. Rushing into his lodge,

they found him making a net. His eyes were closed and filled with

matter, but still he was at work. He had long upper eyelids hanging

down on his cheeks. Raising the lids he cleaned his eyes; then with a

piece of buckskin he tied the lids across his forehead. When the

brother and sister rushed in, they said, “Uncle!” but he did not hear

them. They called again, “Uncle! we are running away and want your

assistance,” but he did not stop, for he failed to hear them. Then the

brother hit him on the head with a corn pounder, whereupon, raising his

eyelids, he said, “I heard a voice.” The brother and sister exclaimed,

“We are closely pursued by a Ganiagwaihegowa.” “I will help you as far

as I can, but your grandfather, who lives near here, will do more than

I. Run to him,” was his answer. They hurried on.

The Ganiagwaihegowa came nearer and nearer. The old man laid a long net

across the trail, in which the Ganiagwaihegowa was caught. After

struggling somewhat, she cleared herself. On coming to the old man’s

door she asked, “Have you seen two people pass this way?” “No!” said

he. The old man had told them to run to their grandfather, and they had

done so.

On reaching their grandfather they found Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa there, who

had rattles. When the brother and sister came up Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa told

them to go on and that they would come to a lodge, and that the people

in that lodge were very strong in sorcery, having great orenda.

The boy and his sister went on. The bear came to the Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa,

whom she killed after a hard fight. The two fugitives reached the

lodge, in front of which was an old Djogeon [49] woman, who was very

small. She told them to go in and sit down. She had three sons inside

and also a great deal of bear’s fat. The old woman told the boys to

make a fire on the tracks of the brother and sister and to put over it

to boil a kettle of bear’s oil. They made two fires, putting two

kettles over them, into which they poured the oil. Then the three boys

got red willow, from which they soon made a number of arrows.

The Djogeon woman stood near the first kettle when the Ganiagwaihegowa

came rushing along asking, “Are the two persons here who made these

tracks?” “Yes; they are in the lodge,” was the reply. The

Ganiagwaihegowa started to go around the kettles, but the woman said,

“No, you must go the way they went, right through the fire, kettles and

all; you must do the same as they did.” On starting to do so the

Ganiagwaihegowa got her paws in the boiling oil and overturned the

first kettle. Badly burned, the monster fell back, growling. In making

for the second kettle, that too was upset in the same way and she was

burned still more. Then the boys killed the Ganiagwaihegowa with their

red-willow arrows, and, building a fire, they burned her bones to

powder, so that the monster could not come to life again.

The old Djogeon told the brother and sister to stay two or three days

at her lodge and rest; then her sons would take them home. She told her

sons that this old Ganiagwaihegowa woman stole a young boy and girl

from them and took them away, wishing to make the girl marry her son.

The boys took the brother and sister two days’ journey, which was as

far as they could go. Then they directed the former fugitives so that

they got home.

It is said that the Ganiagwaihegowa woman’s boy had a tuft of yellow

hair hanging down his back, and that when he was killed, his companion,

having cut off this tuft, fastened it to the top of his own head. When

the Ganiagwaihegowa woman’s boy went hunting, he would send his arrows

home and they would go into the lodge just where they belonged; but

after the other man obtained the hair, his arrows would go home in the

same way, for the orenda was in the tuft of yellow hair.

34. THE POTENT BOY [50]

A man and his wife lived together in an ugly looking lodge in the

woods. They had a son four or five years old.

After a time the woman gave birth to another boy, not longer than one’s

hand, who was very bright and lively. Wrapping the little fellow

carefully, the father, thinking he could not live, placed him in a

hollow tree outside the lodge. Then he burned the body of the mother,

who had died when the baby came into the world.

The man went hunting every day as before. The older boy played around

the lodge by himself and was lonely. After some time had elapsed he

heard the baby in the hollow log crying, for he, too, was lonely and

had nothing to eat. The elder boy found his little brother and, making

soup of deer intestines, gave it to him to drink. He drank the soup

with great relish and became much strengthened. The brother gave him

plenty of it. At last the little fellow came out of the log and the two

boys played together.

The elder brother made the little one a coat of fawn skin, which he put

on him. This made the baby look like a chipmunk as he ran around. They

went to the lodge and played there. Noticing a decrease in the stock of

provisions, the father asked the boy what he did with the deer

intestines. “Oh,” said the boy, “I ate a good deal of them.” Then

looking around the fire and seeing a small track and very short steps,

the father said: “Here are the tracks of a boy. Who is it?” The boy

told him how he had found his little brother in a hollow tree, and that

he had given him soup and had made him a fawn-skin coat, and that they

had played together. “Go and bring him,” said the father. “He would not

come for anything, for he is very timid,” was the answer. “Well, we

will catch him. You ask him to go to hunt mice in an old stump there

beyond the log. I will get him.” Catching a great many mice, the man

put them in his bosom, in his clothes, and all around his body and,

going beyond the log, turned himself into an old stump full of mice.

Going to the hollow tree, the boy said, “Come, let us play catching

mice.” The little fellow came out and running to the stump rushed

around it, catching many mice. The little boy, wild with excitement,

laughed and shouted with joy, for it seemed that he had never known

such fun. All of a sudden the stump turned into a man, who, catching

him in his arms, ran home. The boy screamed and struggled, but it was

of no use; he could not get away, and he would not be pacified until

his father put a small club into his hand, saying, “Now strike that

tree.” He struck a great hickory which stood near. The tree fell.

Everything he struck was crushed or killed; he was delighted and cried

no more. The little boy stayed now with his brother and played with him

while their father went hunting. “You must not go to the north while I

am away,” said the father; “bad, dangerous people live there.” When the

father was gone the little boy said, “Oh, let us go north; I should

like to see what is there.” Starting in that direction, the boys went

on until they came to wooded, marshy ground. Then the little boy heard

many people call out, “My father! My father!” “Oh, these people want to

hurt my father,” said he. Making ready a pile of red-hot stones, he

hurled them at these people and killed all of them. They were frogs and

sang nohqwa. When the boys came home their father was very angry and

said, “You must not go again, and you must not go west; it is very

dangerous there, too.”

When their father had gone hunting the next day the little boy said, “I

should like to see what there is in the west; let us go there.”

Traveling westward, they went on until they came to a very tall pine

tree. In the top of the tree was a bed made of skins. “Oh!” said the

little boy, “that is a strange place for a bed. I should like to see

it. I will climb up and look at it.” Up he went. He found in it two

little naked children, a boy and a girl; they were frightened. On

pinching the boy, the child called out: “Oh, father, father! some

strange child has come and he has frightened me nearly to death.”

Suddenly the voice of Thunder was heard in the far west. It came nearer

and nearer, hurrying along until it reached the bed in the tree top.

Raising his club, the little boy struck Thunder, crushing his head so

that he fell dead to the ground. Then, by pinching her, he made the

little girl call: “Mother, Mother! some strange boy has come and is

playing with me.” Instantly the mother Thunder’s voice was heard in the

west, and presently she stood by the nest. The boy struck her on the

head with his club, and she, too, fell dead. Now, thought the boy:

“This Thunder boy would make a splendid tobacco pouch for my father. I

will take him home.” So, striking him with his club, he threw him down,

and the little girl also. When the boy with the club reached the

ground, he said to his brother, “Now, let us go.” On getting home, he

said, “Oh, father! I have brought you a splendid pouch.” “What have you

done?” said the father. When he saw the dead Thunder baby he said:

“These Thunders have never done any harm. They bring rain and do us

good, but now they will destroy us all in revenge for what you have

done.” “Oh! they will not hurt us. I have killed that whole family.”

The father took the skin for a pouch. “Now, my boy,” said the father,

“you must never go north, to the country of the Stone Coats.” The elder

brother would not go, so the little one went off alone. About noon he

heard the loud barking of Stone Coat’s dog, which was as tall as a

deer, so he knew the master was near. He jumped into the heart of a

chestnut tree, where he found a hiding place.

Presently Stone Coat came up, and, looking at the tree, said, “I think

there is nothing here;” but the dog barked and looked up, so that

finally he struck the tree with his club, splitting it open. “What a

strange little fellow you are,” said Stone Coat, looking at the boy as

he came out; “you are not big enough to fill a hole in my tooth.” “Oh!

I did not come to fill holes in your teeth. I came to go home with you

and see how you look and how you live,” said the boy. “All right. Come

with me,” said Stone Coat. Stone Coat was of enormous size. He carried

in his belt two great bears, which to him were as two squirrels to an

ordinary man. Every little while, looking down, he would say to the

little fellow running by his side, “Oh! you are such a funny little

creature.”

Stone Coat’s lodge was very large and long. The little boy had never

seen anything like it. Stone Coat skinned the two bears; he put one

before his visitor and took one for himself, saying to the boy, “Now

you eat this bear, or I will eat you and him together.” “If you do not

eat yours before I eat mine, may I kill you?” asked the boy. “Oh, yes,”

said Stone Coat. The little boy cut off mouthfuls, and cleaning them as

fast as he could, he put them into his mouth. He kept running in and

out, so as to hide the meat. In a short time all the flesh of his bear

had disappeared. “You have not eaten yours yet; I am going to kill

you,” said the little fellow to the Stone Coat. “Wait until I show you

how to slide down hill”—and Stone Coat took him to a long hillside,

which was very slippery and which ended in a cave. Putting the little

fellow in a wooden bowl, he sent him down at a great rate. Presently he

ran up again to the place where he started. “Where did you leave the

bowl?” asked Stone Coat. “Oh! I do not know; it has gone down there I

suppose,” replied the little fellow. “Well, let us try to see who can

kick this log highest,” said Stone Coat. “You try first,” said the

little one. The log was two feet in diameter and six feet long. Putting

his foot under it, Stone Coat lifted the log twice his own length. Then

the little boy, placing his foot under the log, sent it whistling

through the air. It was gone a long time; then it came down on Stone

Coat’s head, crushing him to death. “Come here,” said the little fellow

to Stone Coat’s dog. The dog came and the boy got on his back and rode

home, saying, “Now my father will have a splendid hunting dog.” When

the father saw the dog he cried out, “Oh! what have you done? Stone

Coat will now kill us all.” “I have killed Stone Coat. He will not

trouble us any more,” replied the Potent One.

“Now, my boys, you must never go to the southwest, to the gambling

place,” said the father. The next day about noon the little boy started

off alone. He came to a beautiful opening in the woods, at the farther

end of which was a lean-to, under which was a man with a very large

head (far larger than the head of a buffalo), who played dice for the

heads of all who came along. Crowds of people were there betting in

threes. When the game was lost the big-headed man put the three persons

on one side in reserve; then he played again with three more, and when

they lost he put them with the first three, and so on until the number

was large enough for his purpose; then, getting up, he cut all their

heads off. As the boy approached, a number who had lost their bets were

waiting to be killed. Hope came to them all, for they knew that this

little fellow had great orenda. Immediately the game began. When the

big-headed man threw the dice the boy caused some to remain in the dish

and others to go high, so the dice in the throw were of different

colors. When he himself threw, all the dice, turning into woodcocks,

flew high and came down sitting, and all of one color in the bowl. The

two played until the boy won back all the people and the big-headed man

lost his own head, which the boy immediately cut off. The whole crowd

shouted, “Now, you must be our chief.” “Oh! how could such a little

fellow as I be a chief. Maybe my father would consent to be your chief.

I will tell him,” said the boy. So the boy went home and told his

father, but the latter would not go to the land of gambling.

“Now,” said the father, “you must never go to the east; they play ball

there; you must never go there.” The next day the boy, starting for the

east, traveled until he came to beautiful plains, a great level

country, where the wolf and the bear clans were playing on one side

against the eagle, the turtle, and the beaver clans on the other. The

little boy took the side of the wolf and the bear; they said, “If you

win, you will own all this country.” They played, and he won for them.

“Now,” they said, “you are the owner of all the country.” On reaching

home the little boy said to his father, “I have won all the beautiful

country of the east; you come and be the chief of it.” His father

consented, and going to the country of the east with the two boys,

there they lived. That is the story.

35. THE FAITHLESS WIFE AND THE THREE OLD MEN

A man and his wife went into the forest to hunt. They built a lodge of

hemlock boughs, in which they lived very happily. In the course of time

a boy was born to them. They had plenty of meat, for the man was a

successful hunter. While he was away hunting in the forests his wife

would busy herself in dressing the meat, in bringing bark to keep up

the fire, and in taking care of the child. Later another child, a girl,

was born.

Everything went well until the boy was large enough to do errands. Then

his mother began to send him for water, which was at some distance from

the cabin. For some reason unknown to her the child was much afraid of

going to the spring. Whenever his mother ordered him to go he would

complain and try to beg off; but, taking him by the hair, she would

lead him to the door, push him out, throwing the water vessel after

him. Then the child knew he must pick up the vessel and go. When he had

brought the water into the lodge the mother would wash herself, comb

her hair carefully, and after donning her best robe she would take the

forehead strap and hatchet and go away, telling the boy that she was

going for bark for the fire and that he must stay with his sister.

This conduct was repeated at the same time every day for a long while.

Then the mother began to be very cruel to the boy. She did not feed him

properly, and neglected him in every way, seeming almost to hate him.

At last the boy told his father that his mother did not give him enough

to eat. The father had noticed that she was cross and cruel to the

child, and had begun to think that something was wrong. Finally as he

and the son were lying down together one night on one side of the fire

and the mother and the little girl on the other side, the father began

to question the boy about what took place at home while he was away

hunting. Then the boy told him that about the same time every day his

mother sent him after water to a place where he was afraid to go; that

then, after washing herself and combing her hair, she would go off into

the woods for bark for the fire, and remain a long time.

The next day when the father came home he asked whether the same thing

had taken place. The boy replied, “Yes.” Then the man determined to

watch his wife. The following day he started out to hunt, as usual.

After going some distance, he crept back to a place whence he could see

what took place around the cabin. Shortly he saw the skin door open and

his boy thrust out and the water vessel thrown after him. He saw the

boy pick up the vessel and start off, crying bitterly. This made the

father very sad, but he waited as patiently as possible to see what

would happen next.

The boy brought the water. Soon after this his wife came out in new

garments, carrying her strap and hatchet. She walked away from the

lodge in a bee line, her husband following cautiously. Walking down a

little hill, she went on until she came to a dry black ash tree, from

which the bark could be stripped easily. There she stood, looking up at

it. Her husband drew as near as he could without being seen by her.

After gazing up into the tree for a moment, she struck it with the back

of her hatchet, making a beautiful sound. After waiting a while, she

struck it a second time. Again the same musical sound was heard. The

third time she struck it he heard a bird on the top branches. As she

struck it the fourth time the bird flew down. As it alighted on the

ground it became a handsome man. The husband saw how his wife and her

lover dallied together. At that moment, drawing his bow, he shot an

arrow. In the twinkling of an eye the lover, turning himself into a

bird, flew upward and disappeared in the air. The woman sprang up, and

seeing her husband, said, “It is you, is it?” “Yes,” he replied, “now I

know why you abuse our boy.” “Yes; I do abuse him, and I will abuse

you, too,” she declared. Seizing a club, she beat him until he was

helpless; then, leaving him on the ground, she ran home, put her

children outside the cabin, and set fire to the hemlock boughs

composing its roof. These blazed up and soon the lodge was in ashes.

Then she said to her children, “You stay here; everything will be all

right.” Then, taking up a handful of ashes, she threw them into the

air, saying, “Let there be a snowstorm and let the snow lie as deep as

these trees are high.” As the snow began to fall, she said to the boy,

“Here is your dog; keep him with you, and take care of your sister.”

Then she started off.

The snow kept coming down. Soon the boy and girl were covered, but they

felt as comfortable as if they were in a warm cabin.

After a while the father, having recovered, dragged himself toward his

home. When near, he saw there was no longer a lodge. He searched for

his children and at last found and rescued them. Then he set about

building a lodge of boughs. The boy told him what his mother had said

and done, and he was very sad. When the lodge was finished, he said:

“You must stay here and take care of your little sister and your dog,

‘Beautiful Ears.’ [51] You must always give him plenty to eat, as much

and as good food as you have yourself. When you go out you must always

carry your sister on your back. Never put her down nor leave her for a

moment, and when the dog shows himself uneasy, turn around and go home.

Now I am going in pursuit of your mother.” So saying, he started off.

In the morning when the brother and sister and dog woke up they found

breakfast already cooked. The boy first gave the dog his share and then

he and his little sister ate. At meal times their food was always ready

for them to eat. Some time afterward the boy, becoming lonely, said to

his sister and the dog, “We will go out to amuse ourselves.” He had a

bow and arrows, but could not use them much, for he carried his sister

on his back from place to place. The dog usually ran ahead, then it

would run back, and it was in motion at all times. They kept looking

around and enjoying themselves until the dog began to whine and tease,

wishing to go home. Then the boy said, “I think our dog wants to go

back home.” So they turned back, and when they got home their supper

was ready.

A few days later they went out again, a little farther than on the

first day. Again on their return home supper was ready. The boy always

gave the dog his share first. A third time they went out. They had

already gone a considerable distance from the lodge when all at once

the dog ran after some wild turkeys. The boy followed the dog, which at

last chased them into the bushes. The boy could not get into the bushes

to shoot them, for his sister was strapped on his back. Thereupon he

said to himself, “I will unstrap her for just a moment. Then we shall

have a good fat turkey to eat.” So he took her off for a minute, but

almost before he had reached the bushes she screamed, and he saw a

great bear run off with her. The boy and the dog followed the bear for

three or four days. The boy heard the dog bark as it ran on. At last it

got out of hearing and he lost all track of both dog and bear; now he

was alone in the world. He had nothing to live for and wished to die.

He tried several times to destroy himself, but he could not.

One day he climbed the high banks of a great lake. Mounting a rock,

with the thought, “Now I will end my life,” he leaped into the water.

When he struck the surface he lost his senses. On coming to himself

again he seemed to approach a beautiful country with the purpose to

stay there, and he thought that he was very comfortable. But it turned

out that a great fish had swallowed him when he had struck the water.

After a few days the fish got into a small stream, on the banks of

which two sisters had built a lodge; they had also made a dam to catch

fish. One morning on going to the dam they were delighted to find a

great fish there. The first said, “Let us dress it right away.” “Wait,”

the other said, “until we get the water boiling to cook it. We must cut

it up carefully. Such a fish must have much roe.”

When everything was ready they opened the fish carefully; in the place

of roe they found a beautiful boy. For a moment they forgot the fish.

They washed the boy and cared for him, and were rejoiced that such a

gift had come to their door. They said: “We will take good care of him.

Perhaps he will become a great hunter and get meat for us when we are

old.” The sisters and their son, as they called him, lived very happily

together. He soon surprised them by killing large game and by becoming

a great hunter. When they found, however, that while hunting he

wandered off a long distance from home, they were alarmed and cautioned

him to keep near the lodge and, above all, not to go near the setting

sun. Finally he killed a great deer. While the sisters were pleased

with his power and skill, they were afraid something might happen to

him, since there were so many wicked people about. The fear worried

them greatly. They kept warning him of danger, saying that he must

never on any account go toward the setting sun.[52]

After a time the youth killed any kind of game he wished. One day he

said to himself: “I wonder what there is near the setting sun? I will

go to see for myself.” He had not gone far before he came to a

clearing, in which he saw a cabin that seemed to be empty. Everything

was quiet around it. Creeping up cautiously, he peeped in; an old man

was sitting there with his head bent upon his breast. The latter

instantly called out, “Well, nephew,[53] have you come?” Knowing that

he was discovered (by sorcery), the boy answered: “Yes; I have come. I

thought I would see what you are doing.” “Well, come in and wait a

moment. I will get my head up,” the old man replied. Taking up a mallet

and a large wooden pin that lay at his side, he drove the pin down his

spinal column. Up came his head, whereupon he said, “I have a rule that

when one of my nephews comes I play a game with him, and we bet.” “What

do you bet?” asked the boy. “I bet my head against his,” came the

reply. “All right,” said the boy. The old man dusted off the fireplace

and made it smooth; then he shook the bowl and plum pits. The agreement

was that the first who turned the plum pits all of one color was to be

the winner. The old man said, “You must throw first.” “No,” said the

boy, “you proposed the game; now you must play first.” At last the old

man agreed to this. As he shook the bowl the six plum pits flew out of

the smoke hole. When they got outside they turned into birds, which

flew off out of hearing. By and by the boy heard them again; down into

the bowl they rolled as plum pits. Bending over, the old man stirred

and stirred them, repeating, “Let them be white; let them be white!”

But he could not get them all of one color. At last he ceased his

efforts. Then the boy threw his own dice, and, like the others, they

went out of the smoke hole and, turning into birds, flew off. Thereupon

the old man began to stir the dish, saying, “I wish this, I wish that.”

Down came the birds as plum pits. Then both stirred them, repeating, “I

wish this, I wish that,” and they all turned to one color. When the old

man saw that he had lost the game he wished to play once more. “Oh,

no,” said the boy; “that is not the rule.” “Well, let me smoke once

more,” begged the old man. “No,” the boy said, and, catching up a

tomahawk, he cut off the old man’s forfeited head. Afterward he set the

cabin afire. Later he went home, but said nothing about his adventure.

After a few days he thought he would go again toward the setting sun.

Passing the old man’s place, he soon came to another opening, in which

he saw a second cabin. All around it the ground was very smooth as if

it were a great playground. Seeing nobody, he walked up quietly and

peeped into the cabin; an old man sitting within called out: “Is that

you, nephew? Come in. I have been waiting for you now some time.” “Yes,

I was going by, and I thought I would look in and see you,” said the

boy. “Well, I have a way of passing time. I play a game when my nephews

come,” declared the old man. “What is your game?” asked the boy.

“Playing ball,” replied the old man. “I like that game,” answered the

youth. “I bet my head against my nephew’s,” said the old man. “All

right. Let us play, then,” was the boy’s reply. They went to the middle

of the clearing. At each end was a stake. The young man said, “Are you

ready?” Counting, “One, two, three,” they threw the ball. The old man

beat the young man in throwing, but the young man struck the ball, and

was the better runner. When he was getting far ahead, the old man threw

a horn after him, which stuck into the middle of the boy’s foot. He had

to stop, sit down, and pull out the horn. Just as he drew it out, the

old man passed him. Spitting on his hand, the young man rubbed his

foot, and it was healed. He then threw the horn, hitting the old man,

who now had to sit down and pull the horn out of his own foot. The ball

rolled on, passing between the stakes. At the next turn the result was

the same, so the game was lost for the old man, who wanted to try

again; but the young man said, “No; that is not the rule.” Thereupon

with his knife he cut off the old man’s head, and, after burning his

cabin, went home.

A third time the youth went toward the setting sun, farther than

before. Passing the first and second clearings, he came to a third, in

which he saw a great pond covered with ice; near it was a cabin. As the

young man peeped in, an old man sitting there called out: “Well,

nephew, I knew you would come. I am glad to see you.” “Yes, I thought I

would look in and see you. Now I must go,” added the youth. “Oh, no! I

have a rule that when one of my nephews comes I play a game. I run a

race on the ice, and whoever gets beaten to the end loses his head. No

matter how he gets there; only let him get there first, he wins.” Just

as he was ready to start, the young man, taking a ball off an oak tree,

said, “Let there come a high wind!” He got into the ball (which grows

on the oak tree at a certain time of the year) and in a moment he was

over the ice. The old man was scarcely halfway across. The young man

then pulled out of his pouch a white flint. As he threw it toward the

middle of the pond, he said, “Let this stone melt the ice and boil the

water.” In an instant the old man was sinking in boiling water and

cried for mercy, but the young man said, “No!” As the water boiled it

melted all the ice; thereupon then the water disappeared, dry land

appeared, and the old man was left in the middle of it, a great stone

monument. After setting fire to the cabin the young man went home. He

had never forgotten his father and sister, and he knew where they were.

One day a runner came to the lodge of the two sisters, announcing, “I

have been sent by the chief to give notice of the marriage of a certain

woman. The chief wishes all to come.” Knowing that the boy had orenda

(magic powers), the sisters were careful of him. When he said, “I want

to go to the gathering,” they raised many objections, saying, “Bad

people will be there; all sorts of games will be played.” They were

afraid to let him go. He replied: “You were afraid to have me go toward

the setting sun. I have been there. I have destroyed the dice man,[54]

the ball man, and the ice-pond man.” The sisters were greatly

astonished. The youth added. “Now, I am going to the gathering. My

mother, father, sister, and dog are there.” Yielding at last, they told

him how to find his grandmother, and said that she would tell him what

to do.

He set out; after traveling a long way he struck another trail; then he

began to meet many people, and as they journeyed the crowd kept

increasing. When night came they all camped together and were very

hungry. Going out, the youth killed game, which he told the men to

bring in; this the women prepared. The next day all went on. The

sisters had said to him before starting: “There will be one woman in

the crowd who will seem to have power over all men. Do not notice her.”

He saw the woman, for the men all crowded around her, and one after

another she satisfied all their desires. He looked at her but passed

on.

At last he reached the place where his grandmother lived. She was very

poor. He said, “Grandmother, I have come.” “Poor grandchild, I am

sorry. I have so little to give. I am alone and poor,” murmured the

grandmother. “Oh! do not mind; we shall be all right,” said he,

bringing in game until the old woman was so glad that she was almost

crying with joy. She hurried around like a young girl to prepare food.

Then he began to question her. She told him: “There is a great

gathering at the Long Lodge. The chief’s daughter is to be married. She

has been married before, but she nearly destroyed her husband, her

daughter, and their dog. She had a son, but nobody knows where he is.

Now she is going to torture her husband to death. He is hung up at one

end of the Long Lodge, and everyone can strike him with a burning

brand; his tears become wampum beads. Her daughter is hanging on a peg

over the fire, slowly roasting. The dog is at one end of the fire and

everyone who passes gives him a kick. He has consumption and his hair

is all singed off.”

The boy was very angry. When night came he said to his grandmother, “I

am going to the gathering.” She warned him to beware of evil men and

women who played games and tried to deceive people. When he arrived at

the gathering he pretended to be a little boy, playing around with the

children and going into the Long Lodge with them. There he saw his

mother decked out gaily, perched on a high seat in the middle of the

room, where she could be seen by everybody. He saw his father secured

to a stake. Over the fire his sister was roasting, and he heard his dog

coughing, barely alive. Then he told his grandmother what he had come

for; that the woman was his mother and the man his father. “Now, my

mothers, the two sisters, told me to ask you to help me. Tell me what

to do.” Consenting, she said: “I know everything and am ready to help

you. I have a pair of moccasins you must wear. At certain intervals

your mother orders your father to be branded. Now, you must stand near

the fire. The moccasins, being made of the skin of a woman’s private

parts, have sympathetic power over them. When your mother calls out,

‘Brand him,’ you must stick your foot into the fire.” The boy obeyed

her, sticking his foot into the flame as the woman gave the order

“Brand him.” That instant his mother screamed with pain. All, wondering

at this, questioned her, but she would not tell. She was ashamed. Then

the boy ran out of doors, but when it was time for her to give the

order again he was near the fire. As she was beginning to say “Brand

him,” again he put his foot into the fire and at that moment she

screamed with pain. He tormented her in this way until she died. Each

time she suffered his father and sister felt great relief. When she was

dead, he took his father and sister and dog out of the building. Then

he said, “Let this building turn to red-hot flint.” Immediately the

lodge was in flames. As some of the people of the lodge had magic

powers, their heads burst, the pieces striking against the stone walls,

while their spirits flew out through the top into the air in the form

of owls and other birds of ill omen.

Spitting on his hands, the young man rubbed his father and sister and

dog, and they became as well as ever. Then he said, “Now, we will go

home.” Thanking his grandmother, they started for the sisters’ cabin.

When they came near, the sisters ran to meet them, saying, “We will be

your father’s wives.” And they all lived happily together.

36. THE DAGWANOENYENT (DAUGHTER OF THE WIND) AND HER HUSBAND

There were a nephew and an uncle, who lived together in a bark lodge in

the woods. The uncle gave the nephew nothing to eat, making him live on

fungus. He told him he must not go north to collect fungus, but always

south. The uncle himself went hunting every day but brought back no

game. At home he lived on chestnut pudding and bear’s oil. The nephew

could not find out for a long time how he made the pudding, but at last

he discovered the process. The uncle had a little pot and a chestnut.

He would put the least bit of chestnut into the pot, saying,

“Watchisgwengo, Swell, Pudding.” Thereupon the mush would increase in

quantity.

The next day after his discovery the boy did just as he had seen his

uncle do, with the result that he had a good meal of chestnut pudding.

He did likewise every day while his uncle was hunting. Then he began to

wonder why his uncle forbade him to go northward. After thinking over

the matter a few days, he determined to go in that direction

notwithstanding his uncle’s injunction.

The boy started on his journey, traveling until he came to a Long

Lodge. In the lodge was a great supply of venison and bear meat, and

skin bags of bear’s oil were hanging all around the wall. The only

person within was a woman, who was sitting in the middle of the room,

with her head bent down. There was also a small boy toddling around,

who clapped his hands and laughed when he saw the young man. The woman

took no notice of him. The young man played a while with the child.

After a time he started for home, taking with him a small piece of meat

which he had filched. The uncle, returning home, prepared his pudding

in secret as before.

Thus it happened every day from year to year. It was the custom for the

old man to set out to hunt and for the young man to go to the Long

Lodge to play with the little boy. The woman never moved nor spoke.

The little boy of the Long Lodge was about 15 when one day he said to

the young man: “You and I are cousins. Your uncle is my father and that

woman sitting there is my mother.” The nephew then asked, “Why does she

never speak?” He asked her various questions, but she would not answer

him a word. Thereupon with his bow and arrow he shot at a bag of bear’s

oil which hung above her head. The arrow pierced the bag and the oil

flowing out fell upon the woman’s head and face. This made her very

angry, but she did not speak.

Now, all the meat in the lodge was the game which the uncle of the

young man killed and brought in every day. He never came there until

late in the day while the nephew went home early, so that in all these

years they had never met at the Long Lodge. When the uncle came that

evening he found the bag broken and the oil spilt over the woman. He

suspected that his nephew had been there. On reaching his own lodge

that night he asked, “Have you been at the Long Lodge?” “Oh, yes,” said

the nephew; “I have been going there for the last 13 years. I have

always eaten of the meat there. I have not eaten fungus for many

years.” The uncle was very angry, and asked him whether he broke the

bag containing the bear’s oil. “Yes,” the young man answered. “Oh! you

have destroyed us both, I fear. That woman is an awful witch. She can

not be killed. She will ruin us both,” said the uncle.

The next day the uncle went off again. But that time the nephew

remained at home. During the day, raising the cover of his uncle’s

couch, he found a great pot. This he filled with water, putting in also

a good-sized piece of the chestnut, for he was very angry with his

uncle. When the pot boiled, he began to strike it, saying, “Swell, Pot!

Swell, Pot!” When it came up as high as the bed, he climbed on the bed.

On the pot rising higher, he climbed on the shelf, which extended

around the side of the lodge. When it rose as high as that, he climbed

out of the smoke hole on the roof, enjoying immensely the increase of

the pudding, knowing how terribly angry his uncle would be when he

returned in the evening.

When his uncle came home he said to the boy, “What have you been

doing?” “Making chestnut pudding,” declared the nephew. “Oh! it is too

bad,” exclaimed the uncle. “Oh! that is an old story with me. I have

been eating chestnut pudding for 15 years,” declared the boy. “By doing

this you will destroy us both,” said the uncle, who was more angry than

ever before. “You have enraged that woman. She will never stop her

revenge until she has killed us both,” continued the uncle.

They went to bed, the old man feeling very bad. Just at daybreak the

next morning they heard a terrible noise away off in the distance. The

trees began to moan. The sound grew louder and louder. The two anxious

watchers heard the cracking of branches and the falling of trees. They

said the most awful tempest they had ever heard was coming, with the

woman right in the midst of the storm. Sweeping down on the lodge and

tearing it up from the ground, she caught up the uncle and bore him

away. The nephew had hidden, so she did not find him.

That day the boy, going to the Long Lodge as before, found the old

woman sitting there, mute and motionless, as if nothing had happened in

the meantime. He asked the other boy, “What has your mother done with

your father?” “Oh! you will never see him again. She will come for you

tomorrow morning. I do not know what she has done with my father, but

she went off with him and came back without him,” declared the boy.

The nephew of the man went home to prepare for the coming of the woman.

He had a mole for his guardian. He got inside of the mole, which,

instructed by him, went down into the ground under the lodge as deep as

he could. The next morning the woman came again with terrible fury,

raging worse than before. She uprooted all the trees in her path, but

she could not find the nephew, so she had to go away without him.

Soon afterward the nephew went again to the Long Lodge. There sat the

woman, motionless as before. “Oh!” said the small boy, “she went for

you this morning, but could not find you. Where were you?” “I was right

there,” replied the nephew of the man.

Then the nephew went home. The next morning at daybreak a similar

tempest came; but the boy was down in the ground, inside the mole, so

that the woman could not find him. Thereupon, making herself into a

great whirlwind, and digging a deep hole in the ground, she lifted the

earth to the sky, carrying the mole along in the dirt. The mole fell,

but escaped, while the boy was killed. The old woman went home well

satisfied.

The mole went immediately to work, however, and by blowing the breath

into the boy’s mouth and withdrawing it brought him back to life.

After that the nephew set out to find where his uncle was, going

northward. He went beyond the Long Lodge, traveling as fast as he could

all day and night and carrying the mole with him. The next morning at

daybreak the witch again came after him in a terrible tempest. Once

more getting into the mole, he went into the ground, where she could

not find him, so she went home to the Long Lodge. He traveled the

second day as fast as he could. On the third morning the woman came

still again in a roaring tempest. Finding that the nephew was in the

mole, she made once more a whirlwind, which scooped up the earth,

leaving a great hole, and carried him in the dirt far up into the

clouds. The mole falling to the earth, the boy was killed. The witch

went home satisfied. The mole, by again working over the dead nephew,

brought him back to life. Whereupon the latter, putting the mole into

his belt, ran on as fast as he could all the third day. That night he

spent deep down in the great rocks of a mountain.

On the fourth morning at daybreak the woman came in a tempest, as

before, but could not find the nephew. The same day he traveled until

he came upon a lodge in an opening, like the other Long Lodge, which

was supplied with everything; there, under the roots of a great elm

tree near the lodge he found his uncle. The tree was standing on his

breast, and his feet were sticking out at one side and his head at the

other. He was reduced to skin and bones. He begged for a smoke,

exclaiming, “Oh, my nephew! if only I could have a smoke.” “Poor uncle!

I will get you a smoke,” said the nephew, and pushing the tree down he

gave him a smoke. After smoking, the uncle arose, well. He and the

nephew then went into the lodge, where they remained together two or

three days.

One morning at daybreak the tempest came again. By watching the young

man had found that the witch came in a narrow path and that it was

possible to get out of her course. So he told his uncle to run

westward, keeping out of her path, for she was the wind. The nephew

himself stayed at home to meet her, going into the ground again, and

again she dug him up and killed him. She went home contented, but the

mole brought him to life. Then he followed her immediately to the

lodge, where he found her sitting motionless. Shooting an arrow at the

witch, he killed her. Then forming a great pile of dry bark, wood, and

bear’s oil, he burned the body thereon, throwing the bones far away in

every direction. When he had finished this task he said to the small

boy, “We will go to my uncle, your father.” They went together to the

old man and lived at the second Long Lodge for a few days.

But the witch came to life, and suspecting that they were at the Long

Lodge, she went there in a terrible rage. Now the nephew, determined to

meet her alone, sent his uncle and the boy away. He himself kept out of

her path, for he had discovered her habits and her strength. He had

learned also that after a certain time her force was spent, so that she

became weak and could not go fast. He kept swerving to one side,

therefore, until she turned into a whirlwind, and even afterward. When

all her strength was spent and she had not found him the witch turned

to go home. She had to walk, for she could no longer go through the

air. Then, following her, the nephew killed her with his arrows.

Thereupon he called his uncle and cousin. They burned her body to ashes

and taking all the larger bones to the second Long Lodge they there

pounded them into powder. This powder the nephew divided into three

portions, each one of which he put in one of three skin bags, which he

tied tight. One bag he gave to his uncle, another he gave to his

cousin, and the third he put into his own pouch, saying: “I will keep

it here. She shall never come to life again. When we are in a storm we

must always keep apart, so that the force that is in these powders can

not unite.”

Then the three went to the first Long Lodge, where there was a large

supply of every kind of dried meat, and they lived together, prosperous

and happy.

37. A RACCOON STORY

An uncle and a nephew lived together in a lodge in the forest. The

nephew was a fine hunter. One day when the nephew was off in the woods

hunting for game, a handsome woman, bringing a basket of bread, came to

the lodge and said to the old man, the uncle, “My father and mother

have sent me here to marry your nephew.” “Is it true that they sent

you?” asked the uncle. “Yes,” said the young woman. “It is well,” said

the old uncle. Lowering the basket, the girl set it before the old

uncle. In it was the customary marriage bread. When the nephew came

home, the old uncle said, “You are married now; here is your wife,”

showing him the young woman. “It is well,” replied the nephew, and he

and the young woman became man and wife.

Every day the nephew went out hunting, always returning with a heavy

load of game.

One day while out hunting he came to a tree in the top of which was a

large hole. In this he found a litter of raccoons. Climbing the tree,

he threw one raccoon after another to the ground. All at once he heard

a woman’s voice under the tree, saying, “Come down! come down! you are

tired.” With that, she ran off through the forest. When he reached

home, he told what had happened. His wife laughed at his perplexity,

but said nothing.

Not long afterward, on a hunting trip, while packing up his game and

making ready to start home, a woman came up behind him, and taking him

by the arm, led him to a neighboring log. They sat down on it,

whereupon drawing his head on her lap, she began to look for vermin. He

was soon asleep from her orenda (magic power). Putting him into a

basket, which she threw on her back, the woman went to the rocks in the

middle of a lake. Then she took him out, and awakening him, asked, “Do

you know this place?” Looking around, he replied, “Yes. This is the

place where my uncle and I used to fish,” and giving a sudden spring

into the water, he became a bass and escaped in a flash.

On reaching home, he told his wife what had happened to him. She

laughed, but said nothing. He was so frightened at what had taken place

that he remained at home for several days. At last the feeling of fear

wore away and he started off to hunt.

As he was packing up his game to return home, a woman’s voice said,

“Stop! Wait a while, for you must be tired.” They sat down on a log,

and she, drawing his head on her lap, began looking for vermin. The man

was soon asleep. Putting him into a basket, the woman carried him off

to a great ledge of rocks, where there was only a small foothold.

Taking him out of the basket, she asked, “Do you know this place?” “I

will tell you soon,” said he, looking around. But at that instant the

woman disappeared. He soon saw some one farther along on the rock, and

heard him say, “I am fish hungry. I will fish a while.” Then, throwing

out his line into the water below, he began singing while he pulled up

one fish after another. At last he said: “I have enough. I shall take a

rest now and have something to eat. This is what we people eat when we

are out all night in the rocks.” Then he took a baked squash out of his

basket.

The young man said to the rock, “Stand back a little, so that I can

string my bow.” The rock stood back. Stringing his bow and saying, “Now

boast again!” he shot the fisherman. The young man soon heard a loud

noise, and looking in the direction from which it came, he saw an

enormous bat pass a little to one side of him. Taking from his pouch a

hemlock leaf, and dropping it over the rocks, he began to sing, “A tree

must grow from the hemlock leaf.” Soon a tree came in sight. Then he

talked to the tree, saying, “Come near to me and have many limbs.” As

the tree came to a level with the place on the rocks where the young

man was sitting, it stopped growing. He had seen along the narrow shelf

on the rocks many other men. He called to the nearest one, asking him

to tell all to come, so they could escape. Slowly creeping up, one

after another, they went down the hemlock tree.

When all had reached the ground, the young man, taking a strawberry

leaf out of his pocket and laying it on the ground, said, “Grow and

bear berries.” Then he began singing, “Ripen berries, ripen berries.”

The vines grew, and were filled with berries, which ripened in a short

time.[55] When they had all eaten as many berries as they wanted the

young man picked off a leaf and put it into his pouch, whereupon all

the vines and berries disappeared.

Then he said, “Let us go to our wife” (meaning the woman). After

traveling some distance the young man killed an elk. Cutting into

strings the hide they made a “papoose board,” but big enough for an

adult; then they started on. Soon they came near a lodge, where they

saw a woman pounding corn. When she noticed them coming she began to

scold and, holding up the corn pounder, was going to fight with them.

When the young man said, however, “Let the corn pounder stop right

there,” it stopped in the air, half raised. Seizing the woman, they

strapped her to the board, saying, “You must be very cold.” Then they

set the board up in front of the fire in order to broil her slowly.

Just at this time the young man’s wife came. Finding that they were

roasting the woman, she was angry and, freeing her, said, “You are now

liberated and I shall go home.” Making her way to the lake, she called

on the bloodsuckers to stretch across it so that she could walk over on

them. Each man went to his own lodge. When the young man came home his

wife was there.

38. THE SELF-SACRIFICE OF TWO DOGS FOR THEIR MASTER

In a certain village lived a man who was very fond of hunting; he had

two dogs, which were so very strong and fierce that they would attack

and kill a bear.

One day the man started off from the village to hunt. After he had

traveled for two days he pitched his camp. The next morning he began to

hunt. He was very successful for many days, killing a great deal of

game. One night as he was going to sleep his dogs began to bark

furiously. Not far away from the camp was a very large elm tree, whose

top had been broken off. Hitherto the man had thought it might be

hollow, although he had never examined it. One dog ran in the direction

of this tree. The other dog followed it, and by the sound of its

barking the man knew that it had stopped near this tree.

After a time one dog came back to the man, saying: “My brother, I

believe that we are going to die to-night; we have seen a creature such

as we have never beheld before. We think that it will come down from

the tree to attack us. I will go and watch it; but first you must mark

me with coal from the end of my mouth to my ear.” The man did as the

dog wished. Then the dog said, “Now, I will go to the tree and my

brother can come to be marked by you as I am marked.” Off he ran. The

other dog soon came and the man marked him in the same way. Taking a

torch, the man went to the tree. There on the broken top he saw a

terrible creature; its head and part of its body were protruding out of

the hollow in the trunk; it had very long teeth, enormous eyes, and

long claws. The man had never before seen anything so dreadful. He went

back to his camp. One of the dogs followed him, saying: “We two shall

be destroyed, but we will do what we can to save you. You must hurry

back to the village. Do not take a torch or a bow with you; it will

only be in your way. Put on a pair of new moccasins, and carry also a

second pair. I will lick the soles of your feet to give you speed.” The

dog licked the soles of his feet; then the man, putting on the new

moccasins, started toward home.

He had been running a good while when he heard a sound, and one of the

dogs, overtaking him, said: “Run as fast as you can! Our enemy has

started in pursuit. It does not travel on the ground, but leaps from

tree to tree. The only thing left for us to do is to get between the

trees and spring at it as it leaps past. When you come to water, stick

your feet in it, making it as muddy as you can; then drink that water.

You have noticed that since we have been your dogs we have drunk such

water; it is better for us.” The man soon got very thirsty. Coming to a

place where there was water, he stirred it up with his feet; then,

after drinking what he wanted, he went on. He had not gone far when a

dog came up to him and said, “I think there is a hole in your

moccasin.” (The man looked; there was indeed a hole in his moccasin.)

“Put on new ones.” Again the dog licked his feet and put on new

moccasins. Then the dog said, “My companion will come the next time.”

Then the dog ran back and the man rushed on.

Soon the other dog, rushing up, said to the man: “The enemy is coming

very fast, and we are afraid it will overtake and kill you. When I go

back my brother will come to aid you once more, whereupon the monster

will kill him.”

The dog disappeared. Listening, the man heard both dogs barking. As he

listened the barking of one ceased, and he knew that a dog was coming

to aid him. On coming up this dog said: “I am here merely to speak to

you and see you once more. When I go back I will attack our enemy and

do all I can to defeat it, but it will kill me.” The dog returned. Then

the hunter heard both dogs barking and then a howl; he knew by the

sounds that a terrible fight was going on. The cry of one dog died out;

this told him that that dog was killed. Now only one dog barked and

howled. The man tried to increase his speed. It was still dark. The

barking ceased, and presently the dog spoke behind him, saying: “My

brother is killed and I am left alone. You would better start the death

cry; our village is not far away and the people may hear you.” The man

began to scream out the death cry, Goʹweh, as he ran. There happened to

be a dance at the Long Lodge that night, and some people were sitting

outside. Suddenly a young man, hearing a voice of some one in distress,

gave the alarm.

Now, the dog came again to encourage the man with these words: “Do your

best; you are near home, and perhaps you will escape. I will come once

more. Then I will leap upon and draw the monster down and fight it.”

The man heard the dog when the latter got back, and knew the monster

was drawing near by the sound of the animal’s barking. Then the man ran

on as fast as possible. The dog ceased barking and coming again said:

“This is the last time I shall see you; I shall be destroyed now. If

the people hear your cries and come to meet you, you will escape; if

not, you will surely be killed.”

The dog went back; he had but a short distance to go this time. As the

man ran, screaming, he saw a torchlight ahead. The dog howled in

distress; then his howl died away and the man knew that he was dead.

Finally, seeing people coming to the rescue, he struggled on harder and

harder. When he met the people he fell in a faint; he heard the sounds

behind him as he fell, and that was all he knew.

Holding up their torches the people saw a terrible animal; its fore

legs seemed longer than the hind ones. They shot at it, whereupon it

disappeared, and they returned to the village. The animal had made a

journey during one night which it took the man two days to finish when

he was going to hunt. As soon as he could talk he told the people what

occurred from the time the dog first spoke to him. They decided to go

to his camp and bring home the meat. Not far from the village they

found the last dog torn to pieces, and farther on the other one. When

they reached the camp they saw that the strange animal had eaten most

of the meat; what remained they took home. They did not see the animal

and never knew what it was.

39. THE THREE YOUNG WOMEN, DAUGHTERS OF AWAEH YEGENDJI OR MOTHER SWAN

There was an old woman who had three daughters, all of whom were young,

good-looking, and clever.

When the eldest was 16 years of age and the youngest 12, the old woman

said: “We want some venison and bear meat. We have lived here a good

many years, and have had no meat—nothing but bread, and corn, and

beans, and I long very much for meat. And now,” said she to the eldest,

“you are old enough to be married to a man who can get us some meat.”

To the second daughter she said: “You must go with your sister; perhaps

you will have to stay all night on the way. There are an old woman and

her son living in a broad field where you must go. The young man is

handsome and a successful hunter. The old woman’s name is Big Earth.”

Both girls were willing to go, so the old woman continued: “To-morrow

we must make marriage-bread.” After shelling and pounding corn, they

made marriage-bread and some cakes, which they baked in the ashes. They

made twenty-four of these cakes, which were put into a basket. The old

woman painted the elder girl, combed her hair, and dressed her well.

Then she told her: “Carry this basket on your back. You must take no

notice of anyone you meet, and do not stop to talk with any person no

matter what is said to you. When night comes, do not stop at any lodge

but camp in the woods.”

The girls started, going along in a narrow path. They saw no person and

no lodges until the evening; when they noticed a man running on ahead

of them. He had a bow and arrows and was trying to shoot a squirrel in

a tree. On seeing the girls he stopped them, saying, “Put down your

basket and watch my arrow; see where it goes,” adding that he was

almost blind and could not follow its course. He was very pleasant, so

the elder girl put down her basket, and both sisters ran for the arrow.

When they got back the basket, which they had left on the log, was

gone. “Now,” said the younger girl, “we have disobeyed our mother. She

told us not to answer anyone who spoke to us.” They had then nothing to

do but to go home.

On reaching home they told their mother: “We met a man who begged us to

bring his arrow. We put our basket on a log and when we got back it was

gone.” The old woman did not scold much, although she was very sorry;

she said that they could not love her or they would obey her words.

Later she said to the youngest and to the second sister, “You must go

for the young man.” Then they made more marriage-bread. The mother told

the youngest: “If your sister wants to stop, make her go on. Do not

speak to or answer any man.” The sisters traveled until they met the

same old fellow. Thereupon the elder, who carried the basket, wanted to

ask how far it was to the place where Big Earth lived, but the younger

cautioned her, repeating her mother’s words. As they came up to him,

however, he was so kind and pleasant and spoke so agreeably that the

eldest asked how far it was to Big Earth’s lodge. “Oh,” he said, “she

lives in the first lodge; it is not far from here.” Running around to

the lodge, he told his wife to go to the other side of the fire with

her child, as two girls were coming and he wanted the bread they

brought, and, further, as he had informed them that Big Earth lived

there. Then he threw ashes over his wife, making her look old.

By and by the two girls came in and, as the old man was painted and

looked fine, they sat down by him—they thought he was the young man

they were seeking. In a short while they heard some one coming, who

kicked the door, saying: “Gesagwe! Gesagwe! They want you at the Long

Lodge.”

Turning to the girls, the old man said: “My name is not Gesagwe. They

always call me nicknames.” By and by the child cried out, “Oh, father!”

Whereupon the old man explained, “The child’s father died yesterday and

now he is calling for him.” After a time the runner came again, saying,

“Gesagwe, the people are waiting for you.” Again he said, “They call me

nicknames all the time.” The girls thought it was all right, and he

told them to lie down and wait for him.

But the younger sister thought something was wrong. When the old woman

lay down the girls went out. She said to her sister: “Something is

wrong. This is not the man. He is the man we met, and our mother told

us not to speak to anyone.” The elder said, “I suppose we have done

wrong.” Then, putting into the bed two slippery-elm sticks and covering

them up, they started on with their basket of marriage-bread. They

heard dancing, and as they approached the source of the sound they saw

a Long Lodge. Peeping in, they saw Gesagwe in the middle of the floor.

The singers sang to him. Then everyone, rising, threw corn into his

mouth. He had a blanket around him. They threw what they had into his

mouth. A woman and her son sat by the fire, and they, too, looked very

attractive. The younger sister said, “That is the young man we want.”

Going into the lodge, they walked up to the old woman, Big Earth, and

put down the basket. Big Earth was pleased. When the dancing was over

all the people went home. The man who was dancing went home. Seeing

what he thought were two girls in his bed, he said: “Well, I must

smoke. They have had a big council. They could not do anything. I was

there.” Taking down a piece of deer’s tallow, he chewed it. Every time

he spat it simmered on the fire. He lay down and one of the girls, he

thought, pinched him. He said, “Wait until I get ready to lie down.”

Undressing himself, he started to get into bed, whereupon he found two

rotten logs and a bed full of ants. Awfully angry, he scolded his wife

and threw the logs out of doors.

The girls lived happily with Big Earth’s son for two months. At the end

of that time he got bear meat and deer meat, which he put into very

small packages. He made two loads of the meat, one for each of his

wives. Then they all started with the meat to visit his mother-in-law.

She had been very uneasy, thinking that her daughters had been deceived

again. When she saw them coming with their husband she was pleased.

After they had lived there some time, Big Earth’s son said he was going

to take his mother-in-law to his own home. They all went to his place,

where they lived happily together.

40. HINON AND THE SENECA WARRIORS

(A TALE OF THE WARS OF THE SENECA AND THE CHEROKEE)

Once a war party of Seneca while on the warpath against the Cherokee

became very hungry. Seeing a bear, they chased it into its den, one of

the party following it. When he had gone some distance into the den he

could no longer see the bear, but he saw instead a fire burning briskly

and three men sitting around it. The eldest asked the Seneca warrior

why he had tried to shoot one of his men whom he had sent to entice him

into the den. He continued, “I want to send word to the eldest man at

your camp to tell him that his friend is here and wants some tobacco,

and that tomorrow as many of his warriors as wish may come to see me

here.” So the warrior went back to the camp of his comrades and

reported what he had heard.

The next day, accompanied by five of his companions, each bearing a

pouch of native tobacco, he returned to the den of the bears. When they

gave the tobacco to the old man, he was very glad, and said to them: “I

am thankful to you for this present of tobacco. I shall enjoy it a long

time, for it will last me many days.” While in the den one of the

warriors remarked, “Oh! I am very tired and sleepy.” Overhearing this

remark, the old man said to him, “Lie down, then.”

When the others also had laid themselves down the old man arose, and

going over to the spot where the first warrior lay, rubbed his body

from his feet to his head. Then setting down a vessel which he held in

one hand he proceeded to dismember this warrior’s body joint by joint

until he had taken him to pieces. Placing each piece in a mortar, with

a pestle he pounded the bones to a jelly, which he poured into a bowl.

Then he took the bowl and the other vessel into another part of the

den, where he left them. Returning and sitting down, he began to smoke.

After a while he called out: “My nephew, come out now. You have been

there long enough.” When the young warrior came out, he appeared as

light, fresh, and lithe as a boy. Then another of the Seneca warriors

said, “Can you do this for me, too?” The old man answered, “Yes, if you

wish me to do so.”

Then the warrior laid himself down, and the old man went through the

same process as he had with the other warrior. After he had carried the

two vessels into the remote part of the den, the old man, returning,

began to smoke. Shortly he called out, “Oh, my nephew, you have now

slept long enough!” At once the warrior arose and came forth so fresh

and lithe that he felt no weight in his body. Thereupon another Seneca

warrior asked the old man to treat him in the same manner. The latter

man consented and, after going through the same process as that which

renewed the others, this warrior, too, was made young and as light as a

feather, and consequently was very happy.

Then a fourth warrior asked the old man to transform him likewise, but

the old man refused, saying: “I have now done enough. I will tell you

why I have taken the trouble to do this to four of your people. There

is a large opening extending from one end of the world to the other. In

this opening is a great rock, and in this rock is a man possessed of

enormous horns. We have tried to kill him, but can not do so. Now, I

want two of you to try to crush this rock and so kill him; but first

you must go out and try your strength in orenda” (magic power). So,

going out, they shot at a rock, which crumbled to pieces when they hit

it. Then they shot at an enormous tree; this, too, they brought down

when they hit it, leaving nothing but a stump. “Now,” said the old man,

“you may go to the opening and see what you can do with that enchanted

rock. Your companions may remain here; they will not die, for we never

die here. I always help my grandchildren. I cover your trail whenever

you need to conceal it. It is I who cause it to rain.”

The two transfigured warriors went to the opening, as directed, and

seeing the great enchanted rock, they shot at it; then, returning to

the old man, they told him what they had done. He quickly asked them,

“Did you use all your orenda?” They replied, “No. We could have struck

the rock a harder blow”; whereupon the old man said, “Go back there and

employ all your magical strength.” Returning to the opening where the

great rock stood, the two warriors shot it with all their orenda. After

waiting for some time, they heard a person coming toward them. Soon

they saw that it was a man carrying the head of an enormous horned

snake securely strapped to his back. This man was the old man who had

transformed them. Returning to the den, the two warriors said, “Now our

work is done; the great horned snake is dead.” Then they went back to

their homes.

41. HODADEÑON AND YENYENTʻHWUS [56]

There was a little boy, Hodadeñon, who lived with his elder sister,

Yenyentʻhwus, in a bark lodge.

When the sister went out to plant, she would fasten the door of the

lodge so that nothing might harm her brother. She did not allow him to

go out alone. To amuse him she got a raccoon’s foot, and also brought

him a bow and some arrows. In playing he tossed up the raccoon’s foot,

telling the arrows to strike it, and the arrows always hit the foot

before it fell to the ground.

One day while Yenyentʻhwus was at home, a voice was heard in the upper

part of the lodge, saying, “Mush, brother! Mush, brother!” Hodadeñon

asked, “How is this? I thought we were alone in the lodge?” The sister

said, “It is our poor brother; he is only just alive.” “Well, my

sister, make him some mush,” said the little boy.

Uncovering a place under her couch, the sister took out a very small

pot and a little fragment of a chestnut. Putting the least bit of meal

scraped from the chestnut into the pot with water, she boiled it. While

doing this she stirred the meal and tapped the pot, which increased in

size until it became as large as any pot. When the mush was cooked the

sister took it off the fire and put it all into a bowl, saying to

Hodadeñon, “Go up the ladder and feed your brother.” Climbing the

ladder, he found a man lying in the upper room or attic. The little

fellow said, “I have brought you mush, my brother.” The brother, whose

name was Hadjisgwas,[57] took two or three mouthfuls of the mush and it

was all eaten. Then, after exhaling his breath two or three times and

rubbing his arms and legs, he began to sing.

Hodadeñon heard the singing and the beating of time overhead. A little

later they heard Hadjisgwas call out, “Tobacco!” and the little boy

said, “My sister, our brother wants to smoke.” “Oh!” said she, “Our

poor brother! he is barely alive; he lives on chestnut meal and

tobacco.” Going aside, she got a big pipe, into which she put tobacco.

Lighting it with a coal of fire, she gave it to the little boy, saying,

“Take this up to your brother.” Hodadeñon went, with the words, “My

brother, I have come with a pipe for you.” “Thank you,” said

Hadjisgwas, and with one puff he so filled the room with smoke that he

nearly smothered the boy, who had to hurry down to escape. Soon they

who were below heard a sound as though Hadjisgwas blew through the

pipestem and rapped out the ashes from the pipe. After rubbing his arms

and legs, he began to sing. They thought his voice was stronger. Then

Yenyentʻhwus went out planting, having first fastened the door so as to

keep in her little brother.

When his sister had gone, Hodadeñon thought he would like to make some

chestnut mush for his brother in the loft and to sing and dance for

him. Finding the little pot under his sister’s couch, he took from it

the piece of chestnut, every bit of which he scraped into the kettle.

As it boiled he tapped the pot, which grew as large as any vessel. When

the meal was cooked he poured it out—a great bark bowl full of chestnut

mush. This he took up to the loft, saying, “My brother, I have made you

another bowl of mush.” “Thank you, brother,” said Hadjisgwas, who ate

the mush and, after rubbing himself, began to sing. He was stronger

now, so he could sing a regular song. After Hodadeñon had come down and

put away the kettle, he thought, “My brother must have a smoke.”

Therefore he cut up all the tobacco there was and put it into the pipe,

which he carried to the loft, saying, “My brother, I have brought you a

pipe.” His brother said, “Thank you.” “After you have smoked, I wish

you would sing while I dance,” said Hodadeñon.

Hadjisgwas sent out such a puff of smoke that the little boy had to

hurry down the ladder to escape it. He had not been down long before

his sister came in. He said to her, “Oh, my sister, I have made our

brother some pudding.” “How did you make it?” she asked. “I cut up all

the chestnut and boiled it,” he replied. “Oh, now he will die on your

account,” she said. “After he ate the mush,” said Hodadeñon, “I gave

him a smoke.” “How did you do that?” asked Yenyentʻhwus. “I shaved up

the piece of tobacco, put it into the pipe, and gave it to him,” said

he. “Now we shall surely lose our brother on your account,” said

Yenyentʻhwus; “you have done great mischief.” “Well, my sister, where

are the chestnuts? I will go and get more of them.”

“Those chestnuts,” she said, “grow at the eastern end of the world; and

on this side of them, where the tobacco grows, are many wizards. Before

you come to the lodge of the wizards is a river, over which trees are

thrown to walk upon. Just beyond the river are two great rattlesnakes,

one on each side of the path, which attack every one who goes that way.

If you pass them safely, you will come to a great rocky mountain, so

steep that no mere man can climb it. There is but one pass through that

mountain, and just beyond the pass stand two Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, each

one half as tall as a tree. If you should succeed in passing these,

going farther you would come upon two men at the edge of an opening or

clearing, who give the alarm the moment they see anyone, whereupon the

wizards run out to attack whomsoever they find approaching. If you

should make your way past these men and reach a knoll from which the

lodge of the wizards can be seen, you would find there a woman walking

back and forth on a platform in front of the lodge, who begins to sing

as soon as she sees a stranger; straightaway the wizards, rushing out,

kill him who is approaching.”

The next day when Yenyentʻhwus went to plant she fastened the door,

shutting in Hodadeñon. While she was gone, hearing some living thing

outside, he tried to get out to shoot it. Then he heard a noise on the

lodge roof and, looking up, he saw some kind of creature—he did not

know what—with its eyes fixed on him. Then he said, “You are

Odyaqgweonion,[58] anyhow,” thinking to himself, “I will shoot at the

game.” Drawing his bow, he said to the arrow, “I wish you to go

straight to the game.” The arrow struck the creature, killing it;

thereupon he rushed to bring it in. Not being able to open the door, he

dug a hole in the earth close to the door, through which he got out.

Bringing in the game, he put it into the corn mortar and covered it.

When Yenyentʻhwus, his sister, came, he said, “My sister, I have killed

game.” “Well, where is it?” she asked. “Here in the corn mortar,”

answered Hodadeñon. Running thither, he brought the game to his sister.

“Oh! that is a chickadee,” said she. Having dressed and cooked the

bird, Yenyentʻhwus began to eat it. Hodadeñon stood there watching her

eat, and asked, “Is it good?” “Yes,” she replied. After looking on a

while longer, he asked, “Are you not going to give me some?” “No,” she

replied, “this is the first game you have killed, and you must not eat

of it; it would not be right.”59

The next morning the boy said to his sister, “You will have to tie a

belt around me now; I am going out.” She had to do what he asked, for

she could not help doing it. Putting the belt on him and preparing him

for the day, she said, “You must not go north nor far away; stay near

the lodge.”

Yenyentʻhwus then went to her work in the field. Soon the boy, seeing a

bird on a tree, said, “You must be the bird they call Gwenhdaen

nisedosyoden,” [60] whereupon he killed it with his arrow. Carrying in

the game, he put it into the corn mortar. When his sister came he said,

“I have some game, sister,” showing her the bird. “Oh!” said she, “that

is the Gwenhdaen nisedosyoden.” She dressed, cooked, and ate the bird,

but did not give him a bite.

The next morning, getting up early and making a fire, he called his

sister to get breakfast, so that he might go hunting in good time.

After breakfast he said, “My sister, put on my belt and get me ready.”

She girded him and made him ready for the day. Both went out, she to

her planting and he to his hunting. After he had been out a while,

seeing a bird, he said, “I do not know you, but I think you are

Djeqgowa.” [61] He hit the bird with his arrow, killing it, and brought

it home; putting it into the corn mortar, he covered it. When his

sister came he said, “My sister, I have game; here it is.” “Thank you,”

said she; “that is what we call a pigeon.” After dressing the bird she

cut it into two parts, one of which she put away and the other cut into

pieces, saying that she was going to make dumplings. She pounded corn

meal and, mixing the meat with it, made dumplings, which both of them

ate.

The next morning before daylight Hodadeñon, having made a good fire,

called up his sister to cook. After they had eaten she warned him not

to go north nor far away. She then went out to plant while he went

hunting.

He went farther than before, and seeing a new kind of bird running

along, said, “You look pretty well; you must be what they call

Dyoyoqgwahacyon.” [62] He drew his bow and hit the bird with his arrow.

It ran a while, and he called, “Hold on; do not break my best arrow.”

The bird stopped and died.

He had all he could do to carry it home. He put it in the corn mortar.

When his sister saw it she said, “This is a partridge.”

She dressed the bird, took half and hung it up on a stick; the other

half she cooked for herself and brother.

The next morning Hodadeñon was up early. His sister put on his belt for

him, and both went out. She told him to stay near the lodge. Then she

went to plant and he to hunt. He went farther than he had gone the day

before. He saw a creature coming toward him; after watching it, he

said, “I think it is you they call Shanoons­dehon.” [63] Looking again,

he said, “I think you are the one they call Shadjinoqgyot.”64 The third

time he said, “I think it is you they call Osoont.”65 At that moment

the creature, seeing him, turned to run, but on Hodadeñon calling out,

“Stop!” it stopped right there. Drawing his bow, he shot it. As the

animal struggled he called, “Look out! do not break my best arrow.”

Whereupon it stopped and died. Hodadeñon tried to carry the carcass,

but could not lift it. Running to the place where his sister was

planting, he said, “My sister, I have shot big game. I can not carry

it.” She went with him to the game; when she saw it, she said, “That is

what we call Osoont” (i.e., a turkey). She carried home the turkey, and

after dressing it put half away and cooked the other half.

The next morning Yenyentʻhwus put the belt on Hodadeñon. She warned him

against going north, or far from the lodge. On going a few steps

farther than the day before he found tracks, all pointing in the same

direction; thereupon he said: “My sister never told me that people

lived here and that there was a path.” Putting his feet in the tracks,

he found they fitted exactly. Just before him in the trail he saw a

game animal coming. He said to himself: “This must be what they call

Spotted Face, what they call Dyoyoqgwahacyon, or Striped Tail.” Drawing

his bow, he pierced the creature with an arrow. As it went staggering

along he called out: “Here! do not break my arrow; that is my best

arrow.” Running up to it, he pulled out the arrow. Finding he was not

able to carry the game animal, he had to go for his sister. When she

came she said, “That is called Djoeaga.” [66] After thanking her

brother, she seized the raccoon by one leg and, throwing it over her

shoulder, went toward home. She told her brother that she was going to

make corn bread to eat with this kind of meat. When they reached home

they cooked part of the raccoon and made corn bread. While the meat was

cooking she skimmed off the oil, telling her brother that she had

wanted oil for a long time. This oil she rubbed into her hair.

The brother and sister had more meat from this Djoeaga than they could

eat, and some was left. The next morning, after breakfast, they went

out, the sister to plant and the brother to hunt. At parting she warned

him, as she had done every day before. Hodadeñon went this time a few

steps farther than before. When he saw game coming toward him, he said:

“You are the one they call Hustoyowanen.” [67] Then, looking again, he

said: “I think that you are the one they call Dodjenendogeni,”68 and as

he looked, the animal, seeing him, turned to run. He called out to it:

“Stop!” As it did so, drawing his bow, Hodadeñon pierced it with an

arrow. The animal ran off out of sight, whereupon Hodadeñon screamed:

“Stop! Stop! You are breaking my arrow!” But the game animal was not to

be seen. Still the boy cried: “Stop! Stop! That is my best arrow.

Stop!” Then he thought: “I have lost my arrow, but I will follow a

little farther. If I can not catch the game animal, I shall go for my

sister, who will find it.”

Going on a short distance, he found the game animal lying dead. He ran

for his sister, who came, and thanking him, said: “This time you have

brought me Onogengowa.” [69] She brought a strap braided out of hemp

bark, so as to carry the meat home on her shoulders. Having skinned and

cut up the deer, she divided it into pieces. Hodadeñon wanted to carry

a part, so his sister, cutting off the feet, tied them together, and

gave them to him. She carried half the meat home at one time and then

went back for the other half.

The next day Hodadeñon went a little farther than before. On seeing a

game animal walking along, he said to it, “You must be what they call

Dasidowanes.” [70] The game animal, seeing him, jumped, but he said,

“Keep still.” It stopped, whereupon, drawing his bow, he shot an arrow

into the animal, which rushed through the woods and out of sight.

Hodadeñon cried, “Look out! that is my best arrow.” Following, he found

the animal dead, with the arrow point sticking out of its body. He said

to it, “You are Dasidowanes”; then he ran for his sister. When she

came, she said, “This is Ganiagwaihe.”71 She skinned the bear and cut

off the feet. She gave her brother the fore feet to carry, while she

herself took half the meat home, and then went for the rest. They had a

good supper that night, and the sister got more hair oil.

The next day they went out again, as usual, Hodadeñon to hunt and

Yenyentʻhwus to plant. The brother went to the spot where he had killed

the bear, but could see no game. Then he traveled in a circle, but

could see nothing. As he looked toward the north it seemed very

pleasant. There was an opening, or clearing, in front of him, and he

thought he would go into it, hoping that he would find game there. In

the middle of the clearing was a lodge. On peeping through a crack in

the wall he saw a crowd of naked men of the Odjineowa [72] people,

dancing. Very soon one of these men said, “Some one is looking at us,”

and then another said, “Let us kill him.”

Hodadeñon ran back to the woods, the men chasing him to the edge of the

opening, where they turned back. Hodadeñon went a short distance toward

home; then, taking a long stick of wood from a pile which his sister

had made, he carried it to the edge of the opening, where he stuck it

into the ground, saying, “When the men in that lodge run after me with

their clubs, do you fight against them to help me.” Then he brought

another stick, which he put down by the side of the first, with the

same words. He kept on in this way until he had a great many sticks

standing in the ground.

Then, running to the lodge, he looked in again. The Odjineowa men,

seeing him, said, “Let us be sure to kill him this time,” and rushed

out with their clubs. The boy escaped, however, to the woods, and when

the naked men came to the edge of the woods the sticks of Hodadeñon

became people and fought, killing all the men. Thereupon Hodadeñon

came, and after dragging the men one after another into their lodge, he

set fire to it, burning them all up.

Having taken the sticks back to his sister’s woodpile, Hodadeñon went

on until he came to the tall stump of a broken tree on which stood a

man, who called out “Ogongaqgeni hiwaden, My eyes have outmatched

yours, my nephew,” but the boy thought, “He does not see me,” so he

passed by. The uncle did not see him. When the boy walked up, the uncle

said: “You have come to me. I am an Hodiadatgon, a great wizard. What

would you do if it should rain spears upon you?” “Oh,” said the boy, “I

think my sister and I would be very glad, for we have no spears to fish

with now.” Then he ran home with all his speed. When near the lodge he

saw his sister go into it, whereupon he ran around it, saying, “Let our

lodge be stone,” and straightway it was stone. Just then he heard a

terrible roar, and a great rain of spears came down; some broke on the

roof, others fell on the ground. When the shower of spears was over,

his sister said, “You have gone toward the north.” “Yes, but I shall

not go again,” replied the boy.

After a while he went out to play. While playing he thought, “I will go

to my uncle and be the first to say, ‘Ogongaqgeni, My eyes outmatch

yours.’” So he went on until he came as near his uncle as he could

without being seen. Then he called a mole and, entering his body, he

traveled underground up to the roots of the stump on which his uncle

was standing. Coming out, he cried, “Ogongaqgeni hawknosen, What would

you say if a fire should come and burn up that stump and the woods and

all else there is about here?” “Oh, nephew, that is too much,” answered

the uncle. “I did not say that is too much,” replied Hodadeñon, “when

you sent a rain of darts on my sister and me.” At that moment thick

smoke was seen coming, and soon the woods were in a blaze on every

side. The fire spread to the spot where Hodadeñon’s uncle was. He fell

off the stump, and, his head bursting, an owl came out of it and flew

away.

Hodadeñon thought, “Now, I will go farther.” He had not traveled far

through the woods before he came to another clearing, in which there

was a lodge. Peeping through a crack, he saw within an old man with

both eyes closed. All at once he called, “Come in, nephew! come in!”

When the boy went in the old man said. “I always play a game of dice

with people who come here. If I win, I shall have your head; if you

win, you shall have mine.” The old man brought out six night owls’ eyes

(hihi ogasʻhoon) for dice, saying, “If they all turn up the same color,

the throw will count five; if not, it will count one.” The uncle wanted

the boy to play first, but he refused; the uncle insisted, but the boy

would not. At last the old man agreed. Putting the six eyes into a bowl

of wood, he shook it, throwing them up; they went out through the

smoke-hole into the air. When they returned, they counted but one.

“Now,” said the nephew, “take your dice out of the bowl. I have dice of

my own.” The uncle did not wish to take out his dice, but the boy

insisted, so he had to do so. Then Hodadeñon put in his dice, which

were woodcocks’ eyes, and threw them up. They went high in the air and

came down, calling out, “I think she is not setting, Nondjoqgwen.” [73]

The boy said, “Let them all come one color,” but the uncle said, “No,

let them come in different colors.” All came alike in color, so the old

man lost. “Now, nephew,” said he, “let me have one smoke more.” “Oh,

no!” said Hodadeñon, “I can not do that.” Thereupon he cut off the old

man’s head and went on farther.