When starting out one day he passed on the outskirts of the village a

lodge in which an old woman and her granddaughter lived. As he passed,

the granddaughter was standing outside the lodge, and when she saw him

coming she shrugged her shoulders, saying, “Hu, hu! there goes a poor

hunter.” Running into the lodge she told her grandmother that

“All-kinds-of-trees” had just gone past, giving him a nickname which

derided his medicines, which were made from the bark of “all kinds of

trees.” But the grandmother chided her, saying, “Why do you make fun of

him? He is a good man—the best in this village. He keeps on hunting, no

matter whether he kills anything or not. I wish he were your husband.”

The young woman answered, “If you say so, I can go with him.” Her

grandmother told her that she would better go. So they made bread in

great haste, and when it was ready they put it in a basket, which the

girl placed on her back; then she followed the trail of the man. When

night overtook her she lay down beside a log to sleep. She had not been

there long before she heard some one at a distance calling in a

pleasant voice. As the sound of the voice approached the girl became

frightened. Shortly Djogeon came up to her, saying, laughingly, “Ha,

ha! There is Gadata [374] sleeping, and she is following the trail of a

very poor hunter. Get up. Do not sleep. Your man is near here, and you

should go to meet him.” But the girl, covering her face, kept quite

still. He shook her, called her names, and teased her in all manner of

ways to seduce her, but without result. When daylight came he ran away.

Thereupon Gadata arose, and after making a cold bite do for breakfast,

she again took up the trail. Just as she had been told, she found the

camp of the hunter not far from the spot where she had slept the night

before. When the hunter saw her, he said to her, “Are you following

me?” She replied, “Yes. My grandmother told me that I should try to

become your wife, as she said you are a good man.” He then welcomed

her, and they went on together. At midday he ate some of the bread

which the young woman had brought, and in the afternoon he killed a

deer. After this he had very good luck at all times, for he had a wife.

One day while he was hunting he saw a small lodge, whereupon he said to

himself, “How strange it is that I never before saw this lodge.” On

entering a small woman welcomed him and gave him a bowlful of fine

green-corn hominy. While he was eating it he saw a wee, tiny baby.

Seizing the infant and placing it in his bosom, he ran away with it,

the little woman pursuing him. Immediately there was a tempest. The

wind twisted trees and tore them up by the roots, sending them flying

through the air in every direction. Gripped with great fear, the hunter

now thought that he was surely about to die. As he was running past a

fallen tree a small man, springing upon it (it was he who had tormented

Gadata), called out to the hunter, “You have stolen my baby. Give it

back to me at once.” The hunter stopped, saying, “Yes, I stole it

because I never saw before anything so pretty. Here it is—take it.” So

saying, he handed it back to the little man, who was Djogeon. Then

Djogeon carefully unwrapped the baby, and taking a tiny arrow from

among its wrappings, gave it to the hunter, saying to him: “Take this

and keep it. It will bring you good fortune and success in all your

undertakings—in hunting, in warfare, or in any other pursuit.” As soon

as the hunter had returned the baby, the tempest ceased and the winds

calmed down. Then the hunter returned to his home with his wife and

always after this episode had the best of fortune.

92. THE MAN KILLED BY THE THREE HUNTERS [375]

A man with his wife and child lived happily together in a village. One

day the man said to his little family, “We will start off to the woods

tomorrow to hunt.” They set out the next day and were two days and

nights on the road. Having reached their destination, they built a

fire, and the man started off hunting, telling his wife to boil samp

and that he would be back in time to put meat with it. He went up a

stream and came back in time with game. Having cut up some of the meat,

his wife put it with the samp. About dusk supper was ready and they ate

heartily. The man continued to hunt every day, killing one to three

deer, and also bear, so they soon had a great deal of dried venison and

bear meat, whereupon the man said, “We shall soon have plenty of meat.”

One night he said that he dreamed there were other hunters near by who

could kill nothing. Now this man had four dogs. One day he met a man

who said that he could kill nothing; that he had three companions who

could find no game in the wood; and that the three had nothing to eat.

Another day the man met the same three hunters in the woods. They asked

him whether he would not give them some meat, something to eat. “No; I

will not,” said he; “I have told my wife that we would stay long enough

to get a sufficient quantity of meat. I have nothing to give away.” So

saying, he went home.

The next morning his wife went for a load of wood, leaving her child in

a swing in the lodge. When she returned she heard somebody talking to

her baby. She was frightened at this, for she thought it must be

Genonsgwa. The words were, “You look very sweet to me.” On going in,

the mother saw a large naked woman sitting by the swinging cradle, who

said: “I know just what you thought when you heard me singing. You gave

yourself up for lost. I am not going to harm you. I came in to get

something to eat. Perhaps you would give me some meat.” She replied, “I

will give you some, for you seem very kind and good.” With these words

she took two or three pieces of meat from the side of the lodge,

saying, “I will cook them for you.” “No,” said the naked woman; “I will

eat the meat as it is.” After eating three hams of venison she asked

for more, “For,” said she, “I eat a great deal when I get started.”

When she had eaten enough, she said, “I have finished now. I shall go

and come again.” The woman watched her as she went out, saying to

herself, “That woman looks very savage.” The naked woman, turning to

her, said, “I am Genonsgwa.” When he came the woman told her husband

what had happened.

Early the next morning her husband went hunting. At night the dogs

began to bark and became terribly frightened. The husband said, “I

think that Genonsgwa is going to come and kill us. You would better go

home with the child.” “I will stay with you and will be killed, if

necessary,” replied the woman. She begged her husband to go with her,

but he said, “No; I will stay and save our meat.” Then he heard the

bushes around the lodge breaking and a wind blowing down the

smoke-hole.

The next night they heard something again coming nearer and nearer, and

the dogs were greatly frightened. Then a face looked down through the

smoke-hole from the top of the lodge—the face of one of the three

hunters. Making a hole through the bark wall of the lodge, the man said

to his wife, “Creep through and escape,” but she did not want to go.

The dogs began to bark at a distance on the side opposite the hole in

the wall, coming closer to the lodge, and again he told his wife to

creep through the hole and hurry away on a side trail. Having done so,

she started off with the baby on her back. She went on, and by and by

she heard a dog howl. The dog, coming up to her, said, “Your husband is

killed.” Keeping on a little way farther, she heard a second dog making

a noise as though dying. The first dog said, “Go on as fast as you can;

save yourself.” Only two dogs were left now. The woman remembered a

place through which they had come on the way to the woods—a hollow

log—but she feared that when the men came up they might run a stick

into it, causing the baby to cry. Next day she climbed a hemlock tree,

hiding herself and the child in its branches. She said to the little

one, “Now you must be good and keep quiet.” After the woman had become

somewhat rested, she saw the three men coming with loads of meat on

their backs, engaged in talking about how they got the good venison.

They stopped under the hemlock tree in which the woman and her baby

were resting. While the men were lying below the child made water,

whereupon the woman, thinking how she could save herself and the little

one, caught the water in her hands and drank it. One drop, however,

fell on a man directly beneath her, at which he said, “There must be a

hedgehog in this tree; we will cut it down in the morning.” At daylight

one of the hunters said, “Let us go on.” When they were out of sight,

the woman, coming down from the tree, went homeward.

On the way the mother said to her child, “You have now no father, poor

baby.” When she was near home she saw that there was a light there. The

three men, having parted, went to their homes. The woman hurried on,

crying, Goʹweh! goʹweh! meaning that a man had been killed. The people

who heard the cry hurried to meet her. She told everything. Taking her

home, they put her in her lodge. An old man came to the lodge and

asked, “Are you telling the truth?” “Yes,” she replied. “Well, we will

have a dance,” said he, “and call the neighbors together. You must hide

so that nobody will see you.” He hung up a blanket in a corner of the

Long Lodge, and when the people were coming in she hid behind it. When

the people were dancing one of the three hunters came with blood on his

clothes, while the other two had blood on their backs. The old man said

to them, “Your backs are all bloody.” “Yes; we are good hunters,” they

replied; then they danced a while—the women first, then the men. After

fastening the door the old man asked the three men about their hunting.

He said they should dance once more, and then they would talk a little.

All felt free and happy, and one of the three men was talking pretty

loud. The people danced again, and having finished, sat around a while.

Then the old man said, “I will ask these three men whether they are

free of crimes during their absence.” They replied, “We are; we hunted

all the time.” Thereupon the old man brought out the woman, who told

all. The old man next called on the warriors present to kill these

three men, and they did so, afterward scalping them one after another.

Then the people, going to the lodge in the woods, brought home the body

of the dead man in a robe.

93. HINON [376] AND THE IROQUOIS

In olden times there was in a certain village an orphan lad, who had

always been regarded as a very peculiar child by all his friends. He

was, moreover, without relatives and very destitute, so he was cared

for largely by the kindness of the people in general.

The boy seemed to know intuitively many things that other and older

people did not know, and it was a custom for him to bring up and talk

about many mysterious topics. Quite often when it rained he would say

that he could see Hinon walking about in the clouds above their heads,

and he would ask those who might be near him whether they, too, did not

see Hinon, at the same time pointing him out to them.

At last the orphan requested the people to be so good as to make him an

arrow of red willow and also a bow, assuring them that he would shoot

Hinon. So they made him a bow and an arrow out of red willow. One day,

while standing in the doorway of the bark lodge which he called his

home, during a passing storm he suddenly shot at Hinon, the arrow

swiftly winging its way into the clouds. Soon the people saw it come

down near a large tree some distance from the lodge. Rushing to see it,

they found it sticking in the ground, but there was no man nor other

object near it; but they could not pull the arrow from the ground, no

matter how much they tried. Thereupon, returning to the boy, they told

him what they had discovered, and that they could not draw his arrow

from the ground. As an answer to them he accompanied them back to the

tree and, taking hold of the arrow, drew it forth without trouble; but

as he did so there appeared the body of a dead human being, which had

been shot through the heart by his arrow. It was the body of a small

person, not more than four or five feet in height, beautifully

ornamented with the finest feathers they had ever seen. The people

constructed a neat little lodge of bark, which they lined with fine

skins and furs. In this they carefully and reverently laid the body of

the strange personage. From time to time they would go to this lodge to

view the body. When they were going to war they would take two or three

feathers from his arms, in the belief that these would secure them

success. If they wished for rain, they had only to carry these feathers

along after dipping them in water. All their trails were obscured in

this manner. The people kept this body many years, and the feathers

served them during this time; but after the advent of the whites these

Indians, being driven from their home in the south (North Carolina),

lost both the body and the feathers.

TALES

94. A SHAMAN’S DEED

A medicine-man managed to get one hair from the head of a man he wished

to kill. Then, having caught a snake, he tied the hair around its neck,

and digging a hole in the ground, he put the snake therein, not leaving

an opening large enough even for an ant to get through. After putting a

stone over the hole, he left the place.

It was impossible for the snake to escape, so after a while it grew

weak, and the man whose hair was around its neck grew weak at the same

time. At last the snake died, and in consequence of its death the man

also came to his end.

95. SʻHAGODIYOWEQGOWA

(MODERN)

There is a man now (1883) in Canada who sees real

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa—False Faces. He goes around a great deal among the

various tribes of Indians.

One day while on his travels he met a Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, who spoke to

him. The man handed him a plug of tobacco, telling him that he might

have the tobacco to smoke. After the man had gone to the end of his

journey and was coming home he met a Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa near the same

spot, with his back toward him. Seeing that this was a different one,

he passed by without speaking. Soon afterward he met the one he had

encountered before. Saluting him, the man gave him another plug of

tobacco, whereupon the False Face said, “I think you would better come

and see where we live.” “I shall be glad to go,” said he in reply.

Arriving at a cave in a rocky place, they went in. The man saw a great

many Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa there who were very old, and a good many very

young ones. The Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa gave the tobacco to the oldest one,

who said, “You would better give a piece of this to each one present.”

So he cut it into small pieces for the purpose. Then the oldest one

said, “Give thanks,” whereupon they gave thanks to the Tobacco, and all

danced, the little ones, too, and asked this man to dance, and he did

so. When the man was going away the oldest Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa said, “I

want you to remember us, so you must come and see us when you are on

your travels.”

[The foregoing incident took place on the Canadian side of the Niagara

River, near the mouth.—The Relator.]

96. SʻHAGODIYOWEQGOWA

A few years ago (previous to 1884) two young men started for a

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa dance. They had their wooden masks or “false faces”

with them in a bundle. On the way they stopped at a white woman’s

house. The woman asked, “What have you in your bundle?” “Our masks, or

false faces,” they answered; “we are going to a Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa

dance.” “If you will put on the masks and let me see them, I will give

you two quarts of cider,” said the woman. Going outdoors, they put on

the masks, and came into the house again. The woman’s child, a boy of

six or seven, became so frightened that he acted as if he had lost his

mind; he could not talk. The mother sent to Perrysburg (N. Y.) for a

doctor. He came, but he could not help the boy. The mother then went to

an Indian shaman for advice, who said to her that she must get the

maskers, or false faces, to cure him. They came at her request and

danced, and they rubbed the boy with ashes, also blowing some in his

face; soon he was well. According to custom, the woman had ready a pot

of pounded parched corn, boiled with pork and seasoned with maple

sugar, for the false faces, or maskers.

97. THE VAMPIRE SKELETON

A man with his wife, starting from a Seneca village, went from it two

days’ journey to hunt. Having built a lodge, the man began hunting.

When he had obtained a sufficient store of meat, they started for home.

They packed all the meat they could carry and left the rest at the

lodge. Setting out in the morning, after traveling all day they came to

a cabin in which they found all the people dead. The last person to die

was the owner of the lodge. The people of the village had put the body

on a shelf in a bark box which they had made. When the man and his wife

came it was already dark. The husband thought it better to spend the

night there than to continue the journey. He gathered a quantity of

wood with which he made a fire. The woman began to cook, broiling meat

and making a cake of pounded corn, which she placed under the hot ashes

to bake. The man lay down to rest a while and fell asleep. While

cooking the woman heard a noise behind her, near the place where her

husband lay; it sounded like the noise made in the chewing of flesh.

She began to think about the corpse on the shelf and remembered that

the dead man was a wizard. Putting on more wood and making the fire

blaze up, she looked toward the bunk, where she saw a stream of blood

trickling out. From this she knew at once that her husband had been

killed by the dead man.

The bread under the ashes was baked. She then spoke, saying, “I must

make a torch and bring some water.” Thereupon she prepared a torch of

hickory bark taken from the lodge, making it long enough to last until

she could run home. Taking the pail, she stole out, but once outside of

the door she quickly dropped the pail, and ran through the woods with

all her might. She had gotten more than halfway home when the dead man,

the vampire, found that she was gone. At once he rushed out, whooping,

and ran after her. She heard him, and knew that he was following her.

The sound of the whooping came nearer and nearer, and for a while,

unnerved completely by fear, she could scarcely move, but at last,

having regained her strength, she ran on. Again the vampire whooped,

and the woman fell down from fear and exhaustion; but she arose again

and ran on, until finally she came within sight of a place near her own

village where there was a dance. The pursuing man-eating skeleton was

gaining on her, and her torch was almost gone; but, running ahead, she

fell into the lodge in which the dancing was in progress, and then

fainted. When she came to her senses, she told what had occurred to her

and her husband.

In the morning a body of men went over to the cabin, in which they

found the bones of her husband, from which all the flesh had been

eaten. Taking down the bark box, they looked at the skeleton of the

dead man and found his face and hands bloody. The chief said it was not

right to leave dead people in that way; therefore they dug a hole, in

which they buried the man-eating skeleton, and took the bones of the

other man home. The chief had him buried and ordered that thereafter

all dead people should be buried in the ground. At first the dead were

put on scaffolds, but the people used to see sights which frightened

them, for the dead would rise and run after the living. Then it was

resolved to build bark lodges for the dead and to put them on shelves

therein. This plan did not work well, as the foregoing story shows.

About one hundred years ago, says the relator, the present system of

earth burial was begun. Before the burial system was adopted they used

to put the corpse on the ground, into a chamber like a room dug into a

hillside. If the deceased was married, the husband or wife had to watch

with the corpse in this place, and every ten days for a year friends

brought food to the watcher. If the watcher lived through the year, he

or she was then brought out and became free to marry again. The watcher

often died in the excavation, however, for it was dark and foul.

Once a man left with the body of his wife heard, after a time, an

occasional noise of craunching and eating. The next time his friends

came with food he told them of this. Thereupon they held a council, and

the chief sent several men into the excavation to ascertain the cause

of the noise. They found that the bodies had been eaten, and that a

deep hole led down into the ground, which must have been made by a

great serpent. After that the Seneca ceased to bury in this way and put

their dead into the ground as they do at present.

When it was the custom to place bodies in the bark lodges the husband

or wife had to remain in the lodge and look after the dead for a year.

At the end of this period the bones were taken out and fastened to a

post in an erect position, and a great dance was held around them.

MYTHS

98. A TALE OF THE SKY WORLD

A long time ago human beings lived high up in what is now called

heaven. They had a great and illustrious chief.

It so happened that this chief’s daughter was taken very ill with a

strange affection. All the people were very anxious as to the outcome

of her illness. Every known remedy was tried in an attempt to cure her,

but none had any effect.

Near the lodge of this chief stood a great tree, which every year bore

corn used for food. One of the friends of the chief had a dream, in

which he was advised to tell the chief that in order to cure his

daughter he must lay her beside this tree, and that he must have the

tree dug up. This advice was carried out to the letter. While the

people were at work and the young woman lay there, a young man came

along. He was very angry and said: “It is not at all right to destroy

this tree. Its fruit is all that we have to live on.” With this remark

he gave the young woman who lay there ill a shove with his foot,

causing her to fall into the hole that had been dug.

Now, that hole opened into this world, which was then all water, on

which floated waterfowl of many kinds. There was no land at that time.

It came to pass that as these waterfowl saw this young woman falling

they shouted, “Let us receive her,” whereupon they, at least some of

them, joined their bodies together, and the young woman fell on this

platform of bodies. When these were wearied they asked, “Who will

volunteer to care for this woman?” The great Turtle then took her, and

when he got tired of holding her, he in turn asked who would take his

place. At last the question arose as to what they should do to provide

her with a permanent resting place in this world. Finally it was

decided to prepare the earth, on which she would live in the future. To

do this it was determined that soil from the bottom of the primal sea

should be brought up and placed on the broad, firm carapace of the

Turtle, where it would increase in size to such an extent that it would

accommodate all the creatures that should be produced thereafter. After

much discussion the toad was finally persuaded to dive to the bottom of

the waters in search of soil. Bravely making the attempt, he succeeded

in bringing up soil from the depths of the sea. This was carefully

spread over the carapace of the Turtle, and at once both began to grow

in size and depth.

After the young woman recovered from the illness from which she

suffered when she was cast down from the upper world, she built herself

a shelter, in which she lived quite contentedly. In the course of time

she brought forth a girl baby, who grew rapidly in size and

intelligence.

When the daughter had grown to young womanhood, the mother and she were

accustomed to go out to dig wild potatoes. Her mother had said to her

that in doing this she must face the west at all times. Before long the

young daughter gave signs that she was about to become a mother. Her

mother reproved her, saying that she had violated the injunction not to

face the east, as her condition showed that she had faced the wrong way

while digging potatoes. It is said that the breath of the West Wind had

entered her person, causing conception.[377] When the days of her

delivery were at hand, she overheard twins within her body in a hot

debate as to which should be born first and as to the proper place of

exit, one declaring that he was going to emerge through the armpit of

his mother, the other saying that he would emerge in the natural way.

The first one born, who was of a reddish color, was called Othagwenda;

that is, Flint. The other, who was light in color, was called Djuskaha;

that is, the Little Sprout.

The grandmother of the twins liked Djuskaha and hated the other; so

they cast Othagwenda into a hollow tree some distance from the lodge.

The boy that remained in the lodge grew very rapidly, and soon was able

to make himself bows and arrows and to go out to hunt in the vicinity.

Finally, for several days he returned home without his bow and arrows.

At last he was asked why he had to have a new bow and arrows every

morning. He replied that there was a young boy in a hollow tree in the

neighborhood who used them. The grandmother inquired where the tree

stood, and he told her; whereupon then they went there and brought the

other boy home again.

When the boys had grown to man’s estate, they decided that it was

necessary for them to increase the size of their island, so they agreed

to start out together, afterward separating to create forests and lakes

and other things. They parted as agreed, Othagwenda going westward and

Djuskaha eastward. In the course of time, on returning, they met in

their shelter or lodge at night, then agreeing to go the next day to

see what each had made. First they went west to see what Othagwenda had

made. It was found that he had made the country all rocks and full of

ledges, and also a mosquito which was very large. Djuskaha asked the

mosquito to run, in order that he might see whether the insect could

fight. The mosquito ran, and sticking his bill through a sapling,

thereby made it fall, at which Djuskaha said, “That will not be right,

for you would kill the people who are about to come.” So, seizing him,

he rubbed him down in his hands, causing him to become very small; then

he blew on the mosquito, whereupon he flew away. He also modified some

of the other animals which his brother had made. After returning to

their lodge, they agreed to go the next day to see what Djuskaha had

fashioned. On visiting the east the next day, they found that Djuskaha

had made a large number of animals which were so fat that they could

hardly move; that he had made the sugar-maple trees to drop syrup; that

he had made the sycamore tree to bear fine fruit; that the rivers were

so formed that half the water flowed upstream and the other half

downstream. Then the reddish-colored brother, Othagwenda, was greatly

displeased with what his brother had made, saying that the people who

were about to come would live too easily and be too happy. So he shook

violently the various animals—the bears, deer, and turkeys—causing them

to become small at once, a characteristic which attached itself to

their descendants. He also caused the sugar maple to drop sweetened

water only, and the fruit of the sycamore to become small and useless;

and lastly he caused the water of the rivers to flow in only one

direction, because the original plan would make it too easy for the

human beings who were about to come to navigate the streams.

The inspection of each other’s work resulted in a deadly disagreement

between the brothers, who finally came to grips and blows, and

Othagwenda was killed in the fierce struggle.

99. SʻHAGODIYOWEQGOWA AND HOTʻHOH [378]

There were a mother and two daughters living in a clearing. When the

daughters became women the mother said: “You must now get married. Make

twenty loaves of green-corn bread, tied up in husks in the usual

manner.” The girls made the bread, and the next morning the mother said

to the elder daughter: “Fill a basket with the bread and go to the

lodge of a man who lives not far from here. It is a double lodge. Go in

at the first door and say to the man who is there: ‘I have brought you

bread. I am going to marry you.’” To the younger daughter she said: “Go

in at the back door and say to the man who is there, ‘Here is marriage

bread. I have come to marry you.’ The two brothers will take your bread

and will tell you to stay. The path branches to one side before you

reach the place, but keep on the straight path, which leads from here.”

The girls started, and when they came to the fork they kept on the

straight path, and after a long time they came to a lodge. Looking

through the cracks, they saw a number of False Faces dancing,

whereupon, becoming frightened, they ran away. The Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa

followed them, and when they were getting near one of the girls, she

threw down her basket of bread. The Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa ate the bread and

then he ran on. The second sister threw down her basket, and then piece

by piece they cast off their clothes. The Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa in pursuit

would stop and examine every piece. By this delay the girls kept a

little ahead and finally reached their mothers lodge, but they were

naked. The mother said: “You did not do as I told you. You must try

again.” Having made bread again, the next morning they started the

second time. This time they reached the right lodge. The elder sister,

setting the basket of bread before the man, said: “I have come to marry

you.” After eating the bread, he thanked her. The younger sister went

in at the other door, and placing the basket of bread before the man,

said: “Eat; I have come to marry you.” He thanked her and ate the

bread, and so they were married.

There was a partition in the lodge, and in the morning when the

brothers got up the elder brother always cried out, “I am up.” The

younger brother would answer, “So am I.” “We are eating breakfast,”

would be the elder brother’s response. “So are we,” was the younger

brother’s answer. “I am going hunting,” would be the next sally. “So am

I,” would be the reply.

Before starting off to hunt each brother said to his wife, “You must

stay in the lodge for ten days. If you do not, our brother

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa may carry you away.” For nine days the sisters

remained indoors; then the younger said: “It is bright and pleasant.

Let us sit outside a few minutes.” The elder consenting, they sat down

outdoors near the lodge. They had not been there long when

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa came. The sisters did not see him in his real

character, and when he asked them to go and eat with him, they readily

went. When the two brothers returned they missed their wives, and they

knew that their brother had captured them. The elder of the two, going

to Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, said, “I have come to ask you to give back our

wives. You can keep watch over them, but let them live with us.” At

last Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa gave them up.

Now Hotʻhoh (Cold Weather) was a brother of these men who lived not far

away. He always went naked. His only weapon was a tomahawk, which he

carried in a hole or slit in the skin of his hip. It is he who makes

the trees crack with such loud noises in winter, for he is striking

them with his mallet or tomahawk. The two men now went to Hotʻhoh, whom

they asked to protect their wives from Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa. Some time

after this they went hunting again. On this occasion Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa,

coming to the lodge, said to the sisters, “Come and eat with me. I live

near here. You can eat and return in a little while.” Not recognizing

him, they went. He took them to his lodge in the woods, where he shut

them up. The youngest sister escaped and had gone some distance before

Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa found it out. Then he followed, screaming as he ran.

She was terribly frightened and ran directly to Hotʻhoh. He told her to

go home, and that he would meet Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa. They met, and then

began a terrific battle. Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa fought with his rattle and

Hotʻhoh with his mallet. They uprooted the trees for miles as they went

toward the east. At last Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa was conquered and promised

never to trouble his brothers’ wives again.

100. THE MORNING STAR AND THE CANNIBAL WIFE

Once far off in the woods there lived by themselves a husband and wife.

It was the custom of the husband to hunt, while the woman devoted her

time to raising corn and beans.

One day, while the wife was baking a cake in the ashes, a large spark

from the fire fell on her hand as she sat in front of the hearth. The

pain caused her to rub the spot with her finger. Soon it began to

blister, whereupon she wet her finger in her mouth and rubbed the

burned spot; in this way she got a taste of her own blood, and strange

as it may seem, she took a liking for it and craved more of it. So with

a knife she cut out pieces of the burned flesh, which she ate

ravenously. The taste for the flesh grew on her so that she put a coal

of fire on another spot on her hand, where it burned more flesh; thus

she continued to cut out pieces of her own flesh and eat them. She

persisted in this unnatural practice until she had eaten all the flesh

from her legs and arms.

The husband had a dog, which was very wise and faithful to him. Now

this dog eagerly watched what the woman was doing. When about half

through eating the flesh off of her limbs, the unnatural wife, turning

to the dog, said: “You would better go and tell your friend and master

to escape from this place at once. You must go with him, for if you do

not hurry away I shall eat you both.” Obeying this warning, the dog

started and, running as fast as he could into the forest until he came

to the place where the husband was hunting, he told him at once that

his wife had become an Ongwe Ias (cannibal), and that she would eat

them both if they did not flee immediately. The man and the dog started

without delay on a keen run. After a while the man, knowing that the

dog’s legs were short and not strong, decided to put him into a hollow

tree. The dog consented to this in order to save the man, as he knew

what was in store for both. So the hunter placed the dog in a hollow

tree, at the same time bidding him to become punk. The hunter went on

as fast as he could run, continuing until he came to a river with high

banks, where an old man lived. He said to the old man: “Grandfather, I

am in great trouble. Take me across the river to save me from peril of

my life. My wife, who has become a cannibal, is pursuing me in order to

devour me.” The old man said in reply: “Oh! I know what you are telling

me, but she is still a long way behind you. She will not be here for

some time to come. But you must bring me a basketful of fish from my

fishpond.” The hunter at once went to the pond, which was enclosed,

where he found a wickerwork dip net, with which he soon filled the

basket with fish. As soon as the basket was full he hastened back with

it to the old man, who soon said, “Sit down and eat with me.” So they

ate together the fish, which had been prepared and cooked by the old

man in such manner as to give the fugitive hunter more orenda (magic

power) to resist the hostile influence of that of his wife. When they

had finished eating the fish, the old man said, “I now want you to

bring me a basketful of groundnuts.” The hunter went at once to the

garden of the old man, and digging up the groundnuts as quickly as

possible, brought them to him. After these were prepared and cooked

they sat down and ate them. Then the old man said, “I will now take you

across the river.” Going to the river bank, the old man lay face

downward, resting on his elbows at the edge of the water, and

stretching out his neck to the farther bank. He said to the hunter,

“Now you may walk over on my neck, but you must be very careful, for I

am not as strong as I have been in the past.” The hunter walked over on

the old man’s neck with great care. When he had reached the other bank,

the old man bade him good-by with the remark, “Far away in the west you

will see a large lodge, which belongs to three aunts of yours, who will

help you further; so call on them for aid.” On hearing this, the hunter

hurried away.

After the woman had sent the dog away she ate all the flesh from her

bones; then with small sticks she pushed all the marrow out of her

bones and devoured that, too. Finally she filled the hollows in her

bones with small pebbles, which rattled as she moved around. From time

to time she sang and danced, causing the pebbles in her bones to

rattle; whereupon she would exclaim: “Oh, that sounds fine!” Having

become ravenous, she fell to devouring everything in the lodge—meat,

bread, corn, beans, skins; in fact, everything that could be eaten.

When she had eaten everything in the lodge, she started in pursuit of

her husband. She soon discovered his tracks and followed them. Once in

a while on the way she would stop and dance, listening with delight to

the rattle of the small pebbles in her bones. Afterward she would take

up the trail again.

Shortly after the hunter had fled from the lodge of the old man his

wife came running along. Coming up to the bank of the river, she

screamed: “Old man, take me across this river. I am pursuing my husband

to seize him and eat him. Come! Be quick!” The old ferryman, not being

accustomed to hear words like these, slowly turned toward the woman,

saying: “I can not take you across. There is no walk for you, who are

chasing your husband to eat him.” But the woman begged and begged him

to comply with her request. At last the old man replied: “It is well.

Go bring me a basketful of fish and also dig me a basketful of

groundnuts.” Going out, the woman caught a basketful of fish in the old

man’s pond; then from his garden she dug a basketful of groundnuts and

brought them to the old man. When he had prepared and cooked them, she

would not eat them, for she now craved nothing but human flesh. After

eating by himself, the old man went to the bank of the river and,

getting into position, stretched his neck across the water like a

turtle, making a very narrow, high, arching span. Then he told her to

walk across. But the woman became angry and said: “How do you suppose I

am going to cross on that kind of walk?” The old man replied: “Oh! you

can do just as you like about it. I am old now and can not make my neck

flat. If I did, it would break down. As it is, you must walk very

carefully.” No matter how the woman raged she had to go on that narrow

path; so she picked her steps carefully, scolding as she went along.

The river, which was very angry and deep, was full of terrible

creatures. When the woman reached the middle of the river, she made the

old man so angry by her scolding that he suddenly jerked his neck,

making her fall into the water; whereupon she was devoured instantly,

with the exception of her stomach, in which was her life, which floated

downstream, passing the lodge of the three aunts of the hunter, her

husband. Seeing it on the surface, the three aunts, having caught it,

chopped it up fine, thus killing the woman.

In the meanwhile the husband came to the lodge of his three aunts, who

told him to keep on his way and that they would watch and do what they

could to aid him. So he kept on until he came to a wood, in which he

saw a young woman gathering sticks for fuel. She asked him: “Where are

you going?” He replied: “I am going on until I find pleasant people to

live with.” The young woman answered: “You would better remain here

with me as my husband. We can live very happily if you can manage my

grandmother, who is a little old woman, but very troublesome.” As the

young woman was pleasant and good-looking, the hunter decided to remain

with her. When they arrived at the lodge of the young woman the little

old woman, her grandmother, was outside. She was about one-half the

height of an ordinary person, but very stout. She exclaimed: “Oh! you

have brought a husband, have you?” Continuing, she added: “You would

better bring him into the lodge to let him rest. You should also give

him something to eat.” The young woman replied: “It is well; you ask

him to come into the lodge.” So the grandmother told them to enter the

lodge; following her inside, they sat down. Thereupon the grandmother,

getting a club from the farther end of the room, began beating her

granddaughter, saying: “Oh! you like too well to have a husband.” She

struck her many blows, which the granddaughter endured without making

any defense. When bedtime came the old woman said to her granddaughter:

“Your husband must sleep with me tonight.” There was nothing to be done

but to comply with her demand. So the husband went to the old woman’s

bed. The latter covered herself and the man with a skin, fastening it

down on all sides in such manner that it was air-tight, so the man

could scarcely breathe. Then the old woman made an attempt to smother

the husband; she would have done so had he not had a small false face

[fetish] hidden away in his bosom. At once he told this aid to absorb

all the odor into itself, and thereupon it did so. When morning came,

contrary to the expectation of the grandmother, the husband was alive

and well. The old woman now for a time left him in peace, and he

enjoyed the company of his wife.

Several days later the old woman said to the man: “We must go to an

island today to hunt.” They found that the island was low and that in

the middle of it there was a very deep lake. Having made a landing,

they drew their canoe up on the island. The old woman said to the man:

“Take your position here on the right,” indicating with her finger a

spot away from the canoe, “and I will drive the game toward you.” The

man had gone about halfway toward the place when, hearing a sound in

the direction of the canoe, he turned back, only to see the old woman

in the canoe paddling away as fast as she could. He called to her to

return, but it was of no use.

The man remained on the island all day long; there was no escape for

him. He noticed the marks of water high up on the trees, which were

very tall. He knew well what these marks meant. When night came the

water began to rise, and thereupon the hunter climbed the highest tree

he could find on the island. The water kept rising, and he continued to

climb as it rose. With the first streak of dawn in the east the hunter

saw that all the shorter trees were covered with water, while around

him on all sides were great numbers of monsters waiting to devour him.

He sat at the top of the tallest tree on the island. While looking

around for some avenue of escape he saw the Morning Star shining

brightly in the east. Remembering that the Morning Star had promised

him in a dream in the days of his youth to help him in the time of

trouble or peril, he prayed that the Morning Star would hasten the

coming of the day, for he believed that with the advent of daylight the

waters would subside and he would be saved. He cried in the anguish of

his mind: “Oh, Morning Star! hasten the Orb of Day. Oh, Morning Star!

hurry on the daylight. You promised when I was young that you would

help me if I ever should be in great peril.” Now, the Morning Star

lived in a beautiful lodge, with a small boy as a servant. Hearing the

voice of the hunter appealing to him for aid, he called out to the

servant, “Who is that shouting on the island?” The small boy replied,

“Oh! that is the husband of the little old woman’s granddaughter. He

says that you promised him in a dream when he was young that you would

help in the time of trouble.” The Morning Star answered, “Oh, yes! I

did promise him to do so. Let the Orb of Day come at once.” Immediately

daylight came, and the water on the island subsided.

When the waters were dried from the land the hunter slipped down from

the tree, and going to the landing place he buried himself in the sand,

leaving only his nostrils and one eye exposed. Early in the forenoon

the old woman came again to the island. Drawing up the canoe on the

beach, she said to herself: “The flesh of my granddaughter’s husband

has been eaten up by this time, but I suppose his bones are left. Being

very young, they must have good marrow in them, so I think I will have

some of this marrow.” So saying, she started to search the island for

the bones. The man was watching her, and when she had gone far enough

away he sprang up out of the sand, and boarding the canoe pushed off

and paddled away. When he had gone some distance from the island the

old woman saw him, whereupon she cried out in agony of despair, “Oh,

grandson, come back! I will never play another trick on you. I will

love you.” The hunter replied in derision, “Oh, no! I will not return.

You shall play no more tricks on me,” and continued to paddle away.

When night came the water on the island began to rise. Then the old

woman climbed the tall pine tree to escape the monsters waiting to

devour her. Between midnight and sunrise the water, still rising, was

nearing the treetop where the old woman was, when she called out to the

Morning Star, “You promised me when I was young that you would help me

when I should be in distress.” The Morning Star asked the boy, “Is that

man down there on the island yet?” The lad replied, “Oh, no! He got off

yesterday. This is the little old woman herself. She says you promised

her in a dream to help her.” The Morning Star replied, “Oh, no! I never

had any conversation with her. I never made any promise to her.” With

these words the Morning Star fell asleep again and slept on, letting

the Orb of Day come at its own time. The water on the island kept

rising and rising until it had reached the top of the pine tree, when

the inhabitants of the lake ate up the little old woman.

The man was at home with his young wife and they lived ever after in

peace and happiness.

101. THE WOMAN AND THE CANNIBAL [379] THUNDER

One day a stranger came to a lodge in which a man, his wife, and four

children lived, and asked leave to marry the young daughter of the

family. Both father and mother consenting, he married her.

The man remained there for a time, and then he wished his wife to go to

his own lodge. The old people were willing, so the two started. They

soon reached a large cabin, whereupon the young man said, “This is my

cabin.” When they arrived there was no one in it, but toward night the

woman heard some person approaching on the run. Soon afterward a man

entered and sat down by the door; again she heard the sound of someone

running, and another man entered and sat down; then a third person

came. They began talking one with another, relating how far they had

been. One of them said, “I had good luck; I killed a bear.” Finding

that he was the only one of the three who had killed anything, they

said, “Go, bring it in; we will cook it.” The young woman sat watching

at the end of the room. The man brought in what he called a bear, which

she saw was the trunk and head of a man. Having cut it up, they put it

into a kettle to boil; when cooked, they ate it. The three walked to

and fro in the room without once looking toward the woman. Her husband

was there, but he did not talk, nor eat with the men. Although they

were his brothers, he never ate their kind of food. The next morning,

and on succeeding days, after making the usual preparations, the three

went hunting; in the evening they returned, and sitting down by the

door, talked over their journey. If they had killed any game they

brought it into the lodge, and cooked and ate it; if they had killed

nothing, they ate what was left from the meal of the previous evening.

One day when the young woman went to draw water she found a man

standing by the spring. He addressed these words to her, “I came to

tell you that your husband is going into the ground tomorrow. He is

magically a very powerful and evil man. As soon as he is gone, you must

put your moccasin exactly in the center of your lodge, telling it to

answer for you every time your husband speaks. When you have done that,

hurry to this place.” The next morning the husband said, “I am going

into the ground. I want you to stay in the lodge all the time I am

away,” and turning around where he stood, he disappeared in the ground.

After doing as she had been told to do by the stranger, the wife went

to the spring, where she found the man. Putting her into the top of an

arrow, and saying, “When the arrow falls, get out and hurry along the

lake as fast as you can,” he shot it into the air.

Soon the husband called to his wife, “Are you there?” at which the

moccasin answered in her voice, “Yes.” After a time he called again,

“Are you there?” “Yes,” was again her reply. He was away several days,

during which many times did he ask, “Are you there?” always receiving

the same answer. When he appeared above the ground and asked, “Where

are you, wife, are you here?” a voice answered, “Yes.” Looking around,

he could not see her; then suddenly he discovered what had been talking

to him. He was very angry and began to search for the woman’s tracks.

He followed them to the spring, where they disappeared. After looking

for a long time he became discouraged, and calling his dog

Onhagwio,[380] he said, “You failed to watch my wife while I was gone.

Now you must find her.” Then he watched the dog as it ran round and

round, coming back to the spring; finally it stopped scenting the

ground, and looking into the air, it sniffed. All at once the dog ran

off northward, looking up all the time as if it saw tracks (but

trailing a faint scent in the air). The man followed. After a while

they came to the spot where the arrow fell. There were tracks on the

ground. The dog barked and began to run faster, the man urging it on.

As they neared the woman, the man who had been at the spring stood

before her. He put her again into an arrow, saying, “You will come down

on an island in a lake, and you must run across this island in all

directions.” When the husband and the dog came to the place where she

met the man they lost her track. Again the dog scented, and finding the

trail in the air, followed it. When they reached the lake, the man

changed himself into a flea, and going into the hair behind the dog’s

ear, held on. Then the dog swam to the island, on reaching which the

flea turned to a man again. Coming to the spot where the arrow fell,

they found her tracks, which they followed across and around the

island. As they neared the woman, the man again stood by her, and

putting her once more into his arrow, said, “You will come down on the

shore of the lake; then run as fast as you can. I can help you no

longer, but you will soon reach a village, where you will find some one

to help you. You may see now who I am.” As he turned to go away, she

saw that the man was a Djondjongwen.381

The dog arrived at the place where the tracks disappeared on the

ground; here he found the woman had crossed the lake. Again the man

turned to a flea and the dog swam with him to the shore. Having found

the woman’s footprints, they followed them. As they were getting very

near, so near that she could hear the dog bark, she came to a lodge in

which a man was sitting, making flint arrowheads. His name was

Hathegwendonnis.[382] The woman asked him to help her. He said. “Go on

as fast as you can; the man in the next lodge will help you. I, too,

will do all I can to aid you.” When the dog and man came to the lodge,

Hathegwendonnis threw toward him a handful of flint. The flint flew in

every direction; wherever it struck it tore up trees and earth. But the

dog ran at Hathegwendonnis and, seizing him by the back of the neck,

shook him until he was dead. The woman reached the second lodge, where

she found a man making nets. His name was Hadaeonnis.383 To him she

said, “I am running away; can you help me?” He answered, “Go on as

quickly as you can; you will soon come to a cabin, and the people who

live there can help you. I will do all I can.” When the man and dog

came to the lodge Hadaeonnis threw his net, which caught them, winding

round and round them. For a long time they struggled; at last, breaking

through the net, the dog ran at Hadaeonnis, seizing him by the neck,

and shaking him until he was dead. In the third cabin the woman found

four men. When she had asked them for help, they began chopping down

great dry trees, which they piled on her tracks. Soon they had a high

pile, and setting fire to the wood, they stood waiting, two at each

end. When the dog and the man came to the fire, the dog wanted to go

around, but the man, seeing that the tracks led into the fire, said,

“No; you must go through.” When they came out on the other side, both

dog and man were nearly dead. The eldest of the four men said, “We will

shoot and kill them,” but they found shooting had no effect. Then the

older man said, “We will catch them and pull out their hearts.” Having

caught and killed them, they pulled out their hearts; these they put

into a red-hot kettle, which the old man had heated over the fire. The

hearts flew around and around in the kettle trying to get out, but the

men shot them until they were dead and burned up.

Now the old man, whose name was Deoneyont,[384] went to the cabin and

told the woman she was safe. He said, “You must rest four days; then

you can go home.” When the fourth day came the old man said, “It is

time to go. Your home is in the south. As you travel, you will know

where you are.” In the afternoon she met a man who said, “Toward night

you will see something to eat.” She traveled all day, and in the

evening she came to a stump, where she found a part of Ononda

onoqgwa.385 She thought this must be what he meant, so she ate it; then

she went on until dark. The next morning she started again. In the

afternoon she met the same man, who told her she would soon find

something to eat. Toward night she came to a stump, where she found a

pot of hulled corn. On the following day, when she awoke, the man was

standing by her; he said, “You are near home, so I shall leave you

here. I am one of those whom you call Hadiwenodadyes.”386 Starting on,

she soon came in sight of an old cabin. Then she came to a spring which

she knew, for it was the spring where, when a girl, she used to get

water. Going to the cabin, she found all her people, who looked very

old. She said, “Mother, I have come.” All were very glad and said,

Nyâwen.

[The narrator thinks the net-maker was a spider.]

102. GAQGA AND SGAGEDI [387]

A brother and his sister lived together in a lodge. The brother never

allowed his sister to go outside. When he went hunting, he did not fail

to tell his dog to stay at home and to bring whatever his sister

wanted.

One day when her brother was hunting the sister wanted water; not

seeing the dog she thought what harm could it do for her to go out and

bring back water as quickly as possible. She ran to the spring, and

stooping down, filled the bucket, but as she straightened up and

rested, putting the bucket on the edge of the spring, someone, grasping

her from behind, carried her away through the air. The dog came on the

run, and barking loudly, made a spring into the air to catch her, but

he could not reach her. On hearing the dog bark, the brother hurried

home. Finding his sister gone, he said to the dog, “You have caused me

great trouble.” The animal felt the rebuke so keenly that, putting his

head beneath his body, he became a stone.

Gaqga, the man who had stolen the young woman, took her to an island in

the middle of a lake, where she passed some time. Every day Gaqga would

go away, returning with dry fish which he found on the shore. Sometimes

he would bring pieces of human flesh, which he ate himself; afterward

he would send the young woman to get water for him to drink.

One day when the woman went to the edge of the island for water, a man

stood before her, who said: “I have come to tell you that the man who

is keeping you is very hungry, and has made up his mind to kill you

tomorrow. He will tell you to bring water to fill the kettle; as soon

as you do this, he will seize his club to kill you. You must run behind

the post on which the kettle hangs. He will strike the post and break

his arm. Then come to this spot as quickly as you can.” The next day

Gaqga acted as the man said he would. When the kettle was full, seizing

his heavy club, he struck at the girl, who ran behind the post; as his

arm came down with the club it struck the post and it broke. The woman

ran to the lake. The man was there with a canoe. Both got into it, and

the man pushed out into the lake. This man was Sgagedi. After a while

Gaqga’s arm felt better, so he followed the girl to the water. Seeing

the canoe far off on the lake, he was very angry, saying, “This is the

work of Sgagedi.” As the canoe was approaching shore, the girl saw a

lodge near by. When Sgagedi stepped into the canoe, he divided himself,

one half sitting at each end of the canoe. As the canoe struck land,

the half of the body which was at the stern was raised and thrown

forward, whereupon, striking the front half, it was joined thereto, so

that the two parts became a whole man. The girl was sitting in the

bottom of the boat, when the mother of the man came to her, saying, “My

daughter, come with me,” and led her to the lodge. She was now

Sgagedi’s wife. Every time he went out on the water he divided himself,

one half sitting at each end of the canoe. As soon as the canoe touched

land he became whole again. All his life he had been traveling around

on the lake in this way, liberating people captured by witches.

After a while the young woman gave birth to twin boys. As soon as they

were born the old grandmother threw them into the lake; as they touched

the water they began to paddle and quickly swam to shore. Again she

threw them in the water, but in a moment they were back again; then she

threw them far out into the lake. When they swam to shore she said,

“That will do.” They now began to run around and play. They grew very

quickly and after a while said to their father, “We think you ought to

rest, so you would better stay at home and let us go out in the canoe

and do your work.” “It is well,” replied the father.

Thereupon the twins started off in the canoe, and after rowing some

distance one said to the other, “See! there is something on the land

that looks as if it were falling to pieces.” “That is true,” said the

other brother; “let us go ashore and find out what it is.” So they

landed, and going to the spot they found an old lodge lying flat on the

ground; within was something breathing, which they discovered was a

very old man. They got him out of the lodge, and one of the boys said,

“This is our uncle, and we must carry him home.” The man consented to

go with them. As they were leaving the place he pointed to a large

stone, saying, “That is my dog.” Striking it with a switch he said,

“Get up,” whereupon the dog got up, shaking himself and stretching, as

is the custom of dogs. They traveled on until they came to the water,

with the dog following them. Then all got into the canoe and the boys

paddled across the lake. When they reached home the boys said,

“Grandmother, we have found our uncle.” On looking at the old man, she

was convinced that he was her brother. Now the boys said to their

grandmother, “You must marry our uncle.” “It is well,” replied she.

After that they all lived together very happily.

103. DAGWANOENYENT AND GAASYENDIETʻHA [388]

There was a large village of people provided with plenty of meat, who

lived happily. Among these people was a man who lived at one end of the

village, whom few noticed.

One night this man had a dream, in which his Dream Spirit said to him,

“Something is going to happen to the people of the village, so you must

notify them to move away within ten days.” In the morning he went to

the center of the village, and having gathered the people together,

told them his dream. Some of them believed and some did not. Five days

later, all those who had believed his dream joined those who had not

believed and paid no further heed to the warning.

On the fifth night the man dreamed again. This time his Dream Spirit

said to him: “We know that all the people do not believe you. Now save

yourself. Start within three days, taking your bow and all your arrows

with you. About halfway up the high hill east of the village you will

find a large hollow rock; enter this cavern, and you will find a

subterranean passage running toward the village. Look through this

passage, and you will see all that is going on in the village. The

people will be destroyed. At midday of the tenth day a great cry will

be raised by the people, such a cry as you have never heard. When it

begins to die away you must commence to shoot through the passage, for

the monster that destroys the village will track you to this place. You

will save your life if you shoot all your arrows before the monster

reaches the underground passage. When your arrows are gone, come out of

your hiding place and go to the place where the monster has fallen.

Then take a small piece of its skin together with the hair (which is

very long) from the back of its head; this will be of use to you, for

it has great orenda (magical power). This monster is called

Dagwanoenyent. You must wind the hair around your body next to your

skin and declare at the same time that there is nothing that you can

not do. At night when it is too dark for you to be seen, go northward a

short distance, and you will find a tree upturned by the roots. Go

around the roots—you must not be frightened, for I will give you

something which will be of great service to you.”

The morning after this dream the man seemed very gloomy and unhappy.

When the time came, taking his bow and bundle of arrows, he started;

going eastward, he soon began to climb the mountain (he did not take

his family, for all believed not in his dream). Just as the sun set he

came to a large rock, in the opposite side of which he found an

opening. Entering here, he kept on until, as he thought, he arrived

directly under the center of the rock; there he found a room high

enough for him to stand in. (There was stone all around, but the bottom

was earth.) He now remembered the subterranean passage, and looking

around, he found it; then he lay down to sleep. The next morning when

he went out there was a deer standing close by, which he killed and

skinned. Having roasted some of the venison, he ate it for breakfast.

Then the man went on top of the rock, which he found large and level.

The tenth day, as he sat on the rock he heard a great noise coming from

the south, but he could see nothing. After a while the sound seemed to

approach the village, whereupon he saw something that looked like

smoke. He saw, too, that the trees in a very wide area were uprooted

and were falling toward the village. As the terrible noise neared the

village, he went under the rock, where he took position opposite the

underground passage. As he looked through it the village seemed to him

to be right at hand. In a short time he heard a terrible outcry, which

was the screaming of the people in distress. He could see that the huts

were hurled up into the air and torn to pieces. He could also see the

Monster eating the people. When all the rest were eaten, it missed one,

and laughing, said, “The world is not large enough for him to hide in.”

Then the man saw that the trees bent toward the east, and from this he

knew the Monster was on his track. Stringing his bow, he began to shoot

through the underground passage as rapidly as possible. When but few of

his arrows remained the noise seemed to be rapidly approaching.

Finally, when only two arrows were left, he saw a great Black Monster

[389] approaching. Thereupon he shot the last arrow. At that instant

the roar and noise ceased, and the Monster fell; he heard it say, “It

is dismal (awendonyat); you have killed me.” The man said, “I will go

and see this creature.” On going to the place where the head lay, and

examining it, he discovered that every arrow he had shot was in the

head. As he stood there, thinking, he said, “I must do as I was

commanded,” so he took part of the scalp from the crown of the head,

with the long hair hanging to it. This he tied around his body, saying,

“You must always help me and not let me be overpowered by anything.” He

then climbed the remainder of the hill, reaching the top quickly, for

he could now go very fast. On looking around, he found a place to build

a brush hut and began work. In a short time he had completed the hut.

Then he said, “I must have plenty of meat,” and going out, he saw deer,

bear, and all other kinds of game in great numbers. Having killed what

he wanted, he skinned the deer and the bears. In doing this, he merely

took hold of the skin of the head and pulled it off. After he had

skinned the animals, he put up hurdles in brush arbors, on which he

placed the meat to dry.

It was still the day on which he killed Dagwanoenyent. When it began to

get so dark that he could not distinguish objects, he started, as his

dream had said, toward the north. He had not gone far when he came to a

fallen tree with the roots turned up. On starting to go around this,

when halfway around, he saw Gaasyendietʻha, which had its great mouth

open and seemed very angry. When the Gaasyendietʻha saw that the man

was not frightened, it began to laugh; then, changing itself to a man

(human being), it said: “You must take one of my teeth out. This will

be of great use to you, for it will enable you to change yourself into

any form you wish.” The man took out one of the double teeth, the one

farthest back in the jaw. At this Gaasyendietʻha said: “You shall live.

You shall have full magical power in your possession, but you and I

must always counsel with each other, especially if you are in trouble;

now we must part.” Immediately Gaasyendietʻha, resuming his natural

form, flew off through the air.

Going back to his hut, the man made up his mind that this should be his

home hereafter. He remained in the hut one year; at the end of that

time, getting lonely, he thought of the people, and said to himself: “I

will go and see whether I can find anybody.” As he started he turned

himself into a Gadjidas [390] and flew toward the southwest. He did not

know how far he might go before finding people, but, as he soared high,

he kept looking down on the earth. After a time he saw something

directly to the west which made him think people were living there, so

he came lower and lower. When near the ground he saw a village and

said: “Well, I shall eat up all the people that live here, but if I

find a good-looking woman, I shall take her home.” Then he turned

himself into a Ganiagwaihegowa, and, beginning at the first house, he

ate all the people. When he thought he had eaten everybody and had seen

no woman that suited him, he saw away off on one side of the town a

little hut from which smoke came out. Going there, he found an old man

and a woman with several children, all of whom he ate. Then saying, “I

have finished,” he changed himself into a man. He stood around a while

and then, seeing a little trail, followed it. He had not gone far when

he met a woman who was very handsome and whom he liked at once. As they

talked together he asked: “Where do you live?” “Oh! right over here at

that lodge,” she replied. He said, “You would better go home with me,

for there is no one living there; all the people are dead.” “I must see

first,” she answered. They then went back to the village. She led him

to the last hut, in which he had found the old man and woman with the

children. She was their daughter. Finding only the blood on the ground,

she began to cry. He laid his hand on the top of her head, and as he

touched her she instantly became senseless; whereupon he shook her,

causing her to become a small gnat. Changing himself into a hen hawk

and putting the gnat (ogenhwan) under his wing, he flew off in the

direction of his home. In a short time he was there, and, changing

himself into a man again, he took the woman from under his wing and

shook her back into her natural form and size. Then he said: “This is

our home; you must stay here and take care of the meat and the lodge.”

She obeyed, while every day he went off to hunt.

One night some time afterward, as they sat in the hut the man heard a

noise outside, as though some one were coming on a run. Suddenly the

door opened and a man came in. They greeted one another. “I have come

again,” said the man. “I find that you have made yourself into two

persons now. I am here to warn you. A great monster has become very

envious of you and has said, ‘There is a man over yonder who has become

magically very powerful, and I have determined to try to overpower him

and to eat him.’ Tomorrow at noon this monster will come. You must go

eastward until you reach a large hill of stones, half as high as the

highest mountain, not far from here. The place will be your only refuge

when this monster attacks you. Get up on these rocks, and when it

approaches you, you must jump from one rock to another. It will jump

after you, but when it fails to reach you and falls, you may feel safe.

We will then take care of it. This is what I had to tell you, so now I

shall go.” The man and his wife went to sleep. The next morning the

woman, noticing that her husband was gloomy, said, “What is the

matter?” “Nothing, except I am thinking of what will become of me today

at noon.” (She had neither seen nor heard the strange man who had

spoken to her husband, although she was present. They two were so

powerful in orenda that only they heard what was said.) The husband,

walking up and down, seemed to be very uneasy.

As it neared noon, leaving his wife, the man started for the rocks.

Seating himself on the top of the highest rock, he waited. Just at

midday he heard a great noise, a distant howl; then he heard another

nearer; then a third howl, just at the rocks. Now by way of defiance he

gave a whoop, calling out, “I am the strongest of the strong. Nothing

can overpower me.” The source of the sound was a bear, the oldest and

strongest of the great bears. As it came up, it leaped on the rocks

where the man stood, whereupon he jumped on the next rock, with the

monster close behind him. In this way they kept leaping from one rock

to another, being ever about the same distance apart, until the man

began to feel tired and faint, and as he looked ahead the next rock

seemed farther off than any of the others had been. Making a greater

exertion, he just reached it. The bear was close behind him, but as it

sprang, it fell short, just striking its jaws on the edge of the rock.

The man looked over the edge of the rock and then jumped to the ground.

As he struck the ground, looking behind him, he saw the rock from which

he had leaped turn over and fall on the monster, killing it. “That is

what I said; there is nothing that can overpower me,” the young man

thought. He then went back to his hut very happy. His wife asked what

had happened to him. “I have killed a monster bear that came to destroy

me,” he replied.

Now all went on as usual. One day after the man returned from hunting,

as he and his wife sat by the fire they heard a man approaching the

hut, and they kept listening until he came to the door. When the man

opened the door, there stood his friend. For the first time now the

woman saw him. They greeted each other. The guest said: “The time has

come when your life is again in danger, but I will try to save you and

your wife. I will tell you what to do. Rub your hands on your wife’s

head and she will turn to Osʻhada;[391] then you must tell it to follow

you wherever you go. It will not be well for you to stay here; you must

go away, but remain here as long as you can after your wife has gone.

She must start immediately after you change her into Osʻhada, and when

you have given up all hope of being able to stay, then flee directly

toward the south. Tomorrow morning as soon as you get up, you must do

as I have told you. I shall go now and we shall meet again.”

Thereupon the visitor started off. The man and wife began to talk. They

did not know what to do. In the morning the man rubbed her head,

saying, “Let my wife become Osʻhada.” At once she became Osʻhada and

rested on his hand, while with the other hand he rubbed it off in the

direction it was to go. Then piling up all his meat, he said in a loud

voice, “I give this meat to you, all flesh-eating animals that live in

the woods.” He now went toward the southeast from his lodge to a very

large elm tree, which was smooth up to a great height, where branches

formed a crotch. Climbing the tree, he sat in this crotch. Soon he

noticed that he felt faint and very weak at intervals, and he thought

that there must be near him something mysterious. He looked around

everywhere, but saw nothing. Taking out the tooth Gaasyendietʻha had

given him, he dampened it with spittle; then having rubbed his finger

over the tooth, he passed it over his eyes, saying, “Now I can see

everything that is going on, even down in the ground.” On looking into

the ground, he saw, deep down, a tree and on the tree a great monster.

He sat still, watching it as it slowly climbed the tree. As it came

near the top, the faint feeling grew stronger on the man. He saw that

the animal was a Djainosgowa,[392] the greatest of the Djainos family

of monsters. This Djainosgowa had determined to overpower the orenda of

the man. It came up out of the ground and up into the heart of the tree

on which the man was sitting. As it came nearer and nearer, the man

leaped to another tree. At that instant the Djainosgowa, coming out at

the place where the man had been sitting, said, “Guhge sedjinoⁿ (You

are indeed somewhat of a man, but I am determined to overpower you in

orenda).” Thereupon the Djainosgowa leaped toward the man, but the man

jumped to another tree, and then from tree to tree, the Djainosgowa

following. There was a great rock at the brink of the hill to which the

man ran; from this he leaped through the air across the great valley to

a mountain far away. Thence he ran directly southward, right along the

top of the mountain, descending on the other side to another very wide

valley. He ran across this valley and had begun to ascend the mountain

on the other side when he heard the monster in close pursuit. It

continued to run all night. In the morning he came to an opening, on

the other side of the valley. It was nearly dark, but the man continued

to run all night. In the morning he came to an opening, on the farther

side of which he could discern a hill and smoke arising. As he came to

the foot of the mountain, he stopped, and turning around, he saw that

the monster Djainosgowa had gotten to the opening. Raising its paw, it

struck the man’s footprint on the trail. Instantly the man fell to the

ground. As he fell, his friend appeared and said: “Get up; you cannot

live if you fall this way.” So saying, he pushed him into a run,

telling him to hurry. The man then felt stronger and again ran fast

from valley to valley, with the Djainosgowa always about the same

distance behind. All at once the man fell again. Immediately his friend

was there, and put him on his feet, saying, “Keep up your courage,” at

the same time pushing him into a run. Again he felt stronger and ran

fast. He ran all night. It was a very dark night and he struck a great

maple tree, going straight through it; this happened many times during

the night, whenever he hit a tree.

For eight days and nights the monster chased him. When it discovered

that the man went through trees it threw its power ahead of him, making

the trees so hard that the man could no longer go through them. On the

ninth night the monster commanded a terrible rainstorm to come and the

night to be so dark that the man could not see where he was going, but

the man ran on until midnight without hitting a tree. Just at midnight

he struck a tree and was thrown far back. At that moment his friend was

there, who said, “Do all you can; exert yourself”; and taking hold of

his hand he led him. The two went and traveled a great deal faster than

the man had gone alone, unaided by his friend, Gaasyendietʻha, the

Meteor. The two ran together until daylight, when the friend left and

the man went on alone. This was the tenth day and he began to be very

tired and faint, but still the monster was approaching and its strokes

on his tracks were frequent, so that the man fell often. The chances

seemed against his escape. Night came and the Djainosgowa made it

terribly dark. Running against a tree, the man bounded far back, but

fortunately the Djainosgowa was so near that he fell behind it. The

Djainosgowa, having likewise struck the tree, was also thrown back. At

once the man was up and running forward again. The Djainosgowa was just

upon him and was reaching out to grasp him when the man fell, as it

seemed to him, into a hole in the ground. He thought, “Well, I am near

my end. When I strike I shall be dashed to pieces.” He kept falling,

and as he fell he grew sleepy. Looking up he saw the monster coming

down the side of the hole, winding round and round. Thereupon the man

went to sleep. After a long time he woke and was still falling, and the

monster was still pursuing him. At last the man landed on his feet. He

seemed to have come out of the hole, and on looking around he saw a

beautiful country. Saying to himself, “My friend told me to go toward

the south,” he ran in that direction. As he went on rapidly he saw the

Djainosgowa coming toward him very fast, and thought, “Now I shall

die.” As it came near the monster turned itself into a man. The runner,

closing his eyes, kept on thinking, “I will not be looking at him when

he reaches me.” He ran until he thought it was a long time to wait to

be seized; then he opened his eyes and looked around, but he could not

see the Djainosgowa, but still he kept on running.

Soon the man came to a lodge, which he entered, finding within an old

man, who, looking up, exclaimed: “Oh, my grandson! I am glad you have

come. I have been waiting for you a long time. You are bringing with

you what I have wanted to eat for a long time. So go back there and

stay. The Djainosgowa and I will fight alone. We will see whether it is

as powerful as it thinks it is.” Soon the noise of the monster’s

approach could be heard. Coming to the lodge, it asked, “Where is the

man I have been chasing?” The old man said, “Here I am.” “No; you are

not the man,” Djainosgowa replied. “I am; but if you think it is some

one else, you shall not find out until you overpower me,” retorted the

old man. The Djainosgowa said, “Come outside; there is not room in

here.” “Very well,” replied the old man, and, arising, he went out.

Then they began to fight. Whenever the animal bit the old man, tearing

open the flesh, it immediately came together and healed. The old man

tore off the forelegs of the Djainosgowa. They fought until the

Djainosgowa was torn to pieces and the old man convinced himself that

the pieces were not alive. Then he hung up the meat in the lodge and

said to his grandson: “Come out! I have killed the monster you were

afraid of. I am very thankful, for I have been wishing for this kind of

meat for a long time.” The old man boiled the meat in a large kettle,

not leaving a particle. In a small kettle he cooked bear’s meat for his

grandson. As the meat was boiling, he put corn into the pounder and

with only a few strokes it became corn meal; then having made bread, he

began to eat. He was constantly giving thanks for the meat he was

eating. At last, when he had eaten every bit of the great Djainosgowa

he said: “I thank you, my grandson, for this will last me for a great

many tens of years. You must stay with me until you are rested and

cured, for you have been infected by the orenda (magic power) of this

great monster.”

One day the old man said, “I want you to see what I have planted.” A

short distance from the lodge they came to a field where something was

growing. The old man said, “This is called onĕñoñ.” There were great

tall cornstalks with ears of corn on them as long as the man was tall

and kernels as large as a man’s head. The field extended farther than

the eye could see. The old man said, “Let us go on the other side.”

There the young man saw another field, where all varieties of corn were

growing. Going on, they came to a third field, whereupon the old man

said, “These are squashes.” They were very large and in great variety.

Passing the squash field, they went to the old man’s lodge.

The next day, after he had rested, the grandson, having bade the old

man good-by, went on. He traveled many days and finally came to a large

opening, where there was a village. After thinking a while, he went to

the lodge of the chief, who received him well. The chief’s daughter,

looking at him, asked, “Have you ever heard of a man sending his wife

off in the form of Osʻhada, a vapor?” He thought and thought this over;

he had entirely forgotten about it. After a good while, remembering the

past, he said, “Yes; I myself did that.” “I thought I recognized you. I

am your wife,” declared the woman. They were glad to be together again.

104. DAGWANOENYENTGOWA SʻHAGODIGENDJI [393] AND YENONSGWA

Dagwanoenyentgowa Sʻhagodigendji, the eldest woman of her people, lived

in the woods with two grandchildren, a boy and a girl.

One day, when the old woman had gone on a journey, a Yenonsgwa came to

the lodge. Picking up the younger child, after speaking kindly to her

and saying that she was a pretty little thing, the Yenonsgwa swallowed

her. Then she began to talk to the boy, telling him how well he looked,

but did not kill him. Sitting on the bed, she told the boy that if he

would get on her back she would take him out to look for his

grandmother. Accordingly he climbed on her back; but soon becoming

frightened, he grasped her so tightly that he became fastened to it, so

he could not get off, although he tried hard to do so. The Yenonsgwa

started off, but went in a direction different from that where his

grandmother was. The boy told her so, but she said: “Oh! we shall soon

come to the place where she is.” The Yenonsgwa woman went very far into

the woods, and the boy began to cry for his grandmother; he cried so

hard that Yenonsgwa told him to get off her back. She did not like to

hear him cry, and, moreover, she wanted to eat him. But he did not get

off, for he could not do so. Yenonsgwa could neither get her hands

around to pull him off, nor could she turn her head to bite him; she

could not get at him in any way. Knowing this, the boy clung to the

middle of her back, for he knew also that she would eat him if he

slipped down. They traveled thus for many days.

When the grandmother returned home she found that the boy and girl were

not in the lodge, and she became very uneasy. She searched everywhere,

but found no traces of either. After a while, finding the tracks of the

Yenonsgwa around the lodge, she guessed what the trouble was. The old

woman followed the trail of the Yenonsgwa, saying that she was bound to

get her grandchildren back.

Yenonsgwa tried to get the boy off, even rubbing him against a hickory

tree, but the boy said: “Oh! I like that. Rub harder.” At this she

stopped rubbing and went on. The grandmother, in the form of a

whirlwind, followed her, and Yenonsgwa told the boy that his

grandmother was following as a whirlwind, and would strike and kill

both. The boy was silent. Then looking around for a refuge, Yenonsgwa

found a hiding place in a deep ravine. There she dug a hole, into which

she went and covered herself with the earth which slipped down from

above. Now Yenonsgwa heard Dagwanoenyentgowa coming, and said to the

boy: “You can hear your grandmother coming if you listen.” Then the

Dagwanoenyentgowa rushed over the place where they lay. The boy shouted

to his grandmother, who heard him. Changing her course, she came back

straight to the spot where they were, blowing the earth off the hiding

place, so that Yenonsgwa was visible on the surface of the ground. When

the grandmother asked the boy whether he was there, he answered: “Yes.”

The Yenonsgwa, however, lay still, whispering to the boy: “Be quiet!

Your grandmother will see us.” The grandmother then called to the boy

by name: “Dagwanoenyentgowa, get off Yenonsgwa’s back.” Having done so,

he went a short distance from her inside the cavern. Then the old

woman, his grandmother, hurled great stones at Yenonsgwa, rending all

her clothes of rock and killing her. Thereupon the old woman took her

grandson with her toward home. On the road she said: “Never allow

yourself to be treated in this way again. Never let anyone maltreat

you. You can master all those people if you only use your orenda (magic

power), for you are a Dagwanoenyentgowa like myself.” The old woman

remained at home a few days with her grandson.

Meanwhile some of the Yenonsgwa’s people found her trail, which they

followed until they came to the place where her clothes were rent and

scattered, and she lay dead. When they asked, the spirit of the

Yenonsgwa told them that the old woman had killed her and had rent her

coating of stone. The men of the Yenonsgwa’s people now resolved to

collect a large company of their people to kill the old woman,

Dagwanoenyentgowa.

While they were preparing for this, the old woman, while she was out on

one of her journeys, found out their plans. When she heard the news of

the intended attack she said to her grandson, “We must get your sister

out of the belly of the Yenonsgwa, for she is sitting within, crying

for me all the time.” So they set out from home, and when they reached

the place where Yenonsgwa lay dead the old woman, having built a little

fire, began to burn tobacco on it for her granddaughter, saying, “This

is what we like; this is what we like.” She burned perhaps half a pouch

full and kept pushing the smoke toward the Yenonsgwa’s body, saying,

“This is what we like. Do you come out of Yenonsgwa’s body.” Still no

sign of the granddaughter; she did not come out of Yenonsgwa’s body. At

last the old woman said: “We must have more help. You have a great many

relatives—uncles, aunts, and cousins. We must call them here.” So

saying, the old woman, the Dagwanoenyentgowa, called them loudly. They

came one by one. There was a great number of them. They broke up and

removed all the clothing of the Yenonsgwa, which they threw away,

leaving the body naked. Then the old woman built a fire at Yenonsgwa’s

head, on which she burned tobacco. All the Dagwanoenyentgowa walked

around the fire, each throwing tobacco into it, saying, “This is what

we like; this is what we like.” After each one of them had gone around

once and had thrown tobacco into the fire once, the young girl started

up in Yenonsgwa’s body, panting for breath. Soon she arose, and walking

out, said, “How long have I been here?” The people gave her tobacco to

smoke. She inhaled it until she gained her full strength. Then all went

home—the old woman with her two grandchildren to her lodge, and the

other Dagwanoenyents each to his own place.

After they had been home a while a Yenonsgwa came to the old woman’s

lodge, who talked pleasantly and inquired how they were. Finding out

that they were only three in number, the Yenonsgwa went back, thinking

it would be a small task to kill them. After the Yenonsgwa had gone

away the old woman said, “We are in trouble now. There is a great

number of these Yenonsgwa people leagued together against us. They are

assembled somewhere around here. When this struggle commences we do not

know whether or not we shall be able to come home here again.” As soon

as she had finished talking with her grandchildren the old woman went

out and called loud and long, “Dagwanoenyentgowa! Dagwanoenyentgowa!

Dagwanoenyentgowa!” The girl did not know what that meant, so she asked

her grandmother, who told her, “I am calling your relatives to help us.

You are a Dagwanoenyentgowa, too.” They came one by one. When all had

come they numbered 60, besides the old woman and her grandchildren.

Dagwanoenyentgowa Sʻhagodigendji said that each one must have a round

stone to strike with, just heavy enough to handle well. They had barely

gotten the stones when the Yenonsgwa began to appear, thousands and

thousands in number. The Dagwanoenyentgowa were frightened when they

saw them, but the old woman who led them said, “We must separate and

attack them singly. You must keep the stones in your hands. Be firm and

have the faith that you will kill with one blow each one you hit and

you will do so.” [394] Then the Dagwanoenyentgowas ran off in different

directions, with the Yenonsgwa chasing them. Whenever they had the

chance the Dagwanoenyentgowa struck and killed a Yenonsgwa, and so they

kept retreating and killing the Yenonsgwa for a long distance. The old

woman told all her people to go up a high mountain on the south ahead

of them and to continue fighting as they went, saying, “When we all

reach the top we will go down a little on the other side, and the

Yenonsgwa will come to the top, and we shall then strike them. One part

of us will strike them from the east and the other from the west side,

and we will get behind them and drive them into the great ravine on the

south side of the mountain, where a river runs, and they will all

perish there.” On coming to the mountain top, where there was a large

space, and looking around the Yenonsgwa saw nothing of the

Dagwanoenyentgowa. They looked on every side, but could see no one,

whereupon they thought that the Dagwanoenyentgowas had gone for good.

They had not stood there long, however, when they heard the sound of

wind below them on the mountain on both sides of them. The sound grew

louder and louder, and presently the Dagwanoenyentgowa struck them on

both sides, and uniting in their rear struck them there also. So

terrible were the attack and the power of the Dagwanoenyentgowa that

they tore all the trees out by their roots and swept the earth from the

top of the mountain, hurling the trees and earth into the ravine and

river below. The dead Yenonsgwas were piled up on one another like

rocks in the river bed and along its banks. The Dagwanoenyentgowa were

now dancing on the mountain top, when the old woman said, “We have

hurled the Yenonsgwa down there now and we would better finish them.

Let half of you go along the ridge running south from this mountain

east of the river and the other half on the western ridge and blow all

the trees and stones and earth into the great ravine.” They did so, and

when they came together they had stripped the mountain spurs naked. The

river forced everything to the end of the ravine, piling up the débris

in a great dam, so that the river became a lake on the south side of

the mountain, which is called Hadiqsadon Genonsgwa ganyudae.395

105. THE TWELVE BROTHERS AND THEIR UNCLE, DAGWANOENYENT

Once there lived 12 brothers who were great hunters, and who dwelt very

happily together. Everyone knew that they excelled in whatever they

undertook, for they had great magical powers and were honest.

Every morning the brothers would start off in different directions to

hunt, and would return in the evening. The eldest brother seemed to

understand best the women, who went around the world to destroy men, so

he always avoided them. One day, however, while he was hunting he saw a

red-headed woodpecker drumming on the trees, making a great noise. As

he watched the bird, it went around the tree and then flew to another

tree and around that. Finally it flew to the ground, and, behold! a

beautiful young woman took the place of the bird. She said to the

hunter, “Are you not ashamed to point an arrow at a woman? Come and

talk to me.” Thereupon he went up to her—this was the last thing he

remembered. She took him to a high rock where stood another woman, who

said “Let his bones come to the ground,” and his body fell, becoming a

heap of bones. Great piles of human bones lay around this rock, for

many men had been decoyed to the place by the first woman and destroyed

by the other.

Night came, and as the eldest brother did not return, the remaining 11

said that some evil had befallen him, and that he would never return.

As predicted, he never came home; his mat remained vacant, and they

left everything as it was and mourned him as dead.

After a long time another brother was missing one evening and he, too,

never returned. Later it was learned that while walking along in the

woods he came upon two women, who with their wiles put him to sleep.

One of them said: “Let us put him into the ground until mold appears

all over him—he shall be alive—and let him remain there until his uncle

finds out where he is and rescues him.”

Now, the 10 remaining brothers were greatly alarmed, and they told

their youngest brother, whom they loved very dearly, that “he must stay

at home and not go roaming about the forest, for he was young and did

not know the world as well as they did.”

Again many moons passed, and then one night the third brother was

missing. The others knew he must be dead, or he would not have failed

to return when night came. Now, three mats were vacant, and the

remaining brothers were almost heartbroken.

Time went on, and one brother after another had disappeared, until only

two were left—the second and the youngest, and there were 10 empty

places. Then the elder said to his younger brother: “You must not go

out of doors. You must stay close at home, where no harm can come to

you, for you are all I have to depend on when I grow old.” “But,” said

the younger, “it may be that our brothers are still alive and are being

kept captive and tormented by the spell of some magic power. I wish to

go in search of them.” “No; you can not,” replied the elder; “you are

still young. But we have a great uncle, who knows everything. He is a

terrible man; no one can go near him. He could bring our brothers back,

if we could get to him, but the trouble is he would not know that we

are his nephews, so we would be destroyed. He is Dagwanoenyent. He

lives on a rock. His long hair sweeps the ground, so that all around

the rock it is as smooth as ice; and he has enormous eyes.” [396] “I

must go to see this uncle,” said the younger, “and find out where our

brothers are.” “You will travel the wide world over and never find them

unless he tells you,” came the reply.

“What does he live on?” asked the younger. “He gnaws the bark of

hickory trees,” answered the elder. “That is an easy living. I will get

plenty of it,” said the younger, and having cut down the largest

hickory trees he could find, he took off great blocks of bark for his

uncle to eat. Then he made himself six arrows, each arrow being a great

tree. He would lift the tree out of the ground by the roots. “I want

you to be small,” and made an arrow of it; the blunt end of the arrow

was the butt near the roots. The elder brother did not know that these

arrows were large trees. He was afraid to have his brother go and put

but little faith in his success. While the younger brother was making

his arrows he practiced running. One day while so engaged he thought he

heard a groan under his feet, as it were, and going back and forth he

found the exact place whence it seemed to come. It was as though he ran

over a man and each time hurt him fearfully; so digging down into the

ground, he found a living man, whose features were perfect but whose

face was covered with thick mold. He took him home to his elder

brother, saying, “We have plenty of bear’s oil, and you can anoint him

until he regains his natural skin.” The newly found man could neither

see nor hear.

The elder brother told the younger to run toward the north. The next

morning the latter started, having cautioned the elder to stay in the

lodge while he was gone, as he would bring his uncle home with him. He

ran for several days until he came near the place which his brother had

described. Possessing magical power over a mole, he said to it, “You

must carry me under the ground so that the leaves shall not rustle.

When we are very near my uncle, Dagwanoenyent,[397] let me out.”

Thereupon he entered the mole, which ran on until they were near the

Great Head, when he looked out. He was almost afraid to come forth, so

terrible was this enormous object, but he sprang out of the mole with

his arrow drawn, crying as he did so, “Uncle, I have come after you!”

Away sped the arrow! As it whizzed through the air it grew to the size

of a large tree. When it hit the Great Head above the eyes, with a loud

laugh the latter, rolling off the rocks, swept along in the air, making

a broad track of fallen trees as it passed through the forest like an

immense cloud. The young man kept ahead by running with lightning

speed. As the Great Head was nearly on him, he turned and shot another

arrow, which drove it back some distance, and again he got ahead. This

act he repeated whenever he was in danger of being overtaken, otherwise

he would have been killed by the big trees that fell in the track of

the Great Head. So on he ran for his life, and as his last arrow was

spent, he reached home. Each time the rebound of the Great Head

decreased, so it gained on him continually.

While the pursued and the pursuer were still a long way off, the elder

brother began to hear a frightful roar and to feel a great wind rising.

Thereupon, saying, “My uncle is coming,” he opened the skin doors

(there was one at each end of the lodge) and put great pounders on

them, and made a big fire. When the younger brother reached the lodge

he took up the pounder, and as the Great Head came down to the

threshold and rolled in, both brothers began pounding it and kept on

doing so until it rolled almost to the end of the lodge and became

silent. At this the young man said: “I brought you here, uncle; now,

you must stay with us and tell us where our brothers are.” “I can not

stay,” replied the Head, “but I will help you, and your brothers will

come back.”

By this time the elder brother, having rubbed nearly all the mold from

the man’s face, found he was his brother. The Great Head blew on the

body, whereupon the man became well and sound again. Now there were

three brothers. At night the Great Head would remain outside the lodge,

gnawing the hickory bark provided for it. After a time it said, “I can

not remain and must be going home, but I will take you to the spot

where your brothers are”; so they started off together. The Great Head

would make long leaps, springing high from the ground. It conducted the

young man to the woman on the rock. As they passed the first woman the

Great Head said, “We shall have to kill this woman.” She tried to make

the Great Head laugh, but it would not, saying, “Oh, woman! Come down

and be bones.” Enraged at these words, she tried to spit at the Great

Head, which repeated the words. The third time, both women rolled off,

and as they fell their bones made a noise like the pouring out of many

shells, and the Great Head said, “Scatter the bones.” So the young man,

gathering them up by handfuls, threw them in every direction,

commanding them to become such and such birds; and they became

birds—horned owls, hawks, crows, and woodpeckers—which disappeared in

the air. “Now,” said the Great Head, “you must work hard. Fit all these

other bones together nicely, giving to each body its own bones by

putting together as many bodies as you can. While you are doing this, I

will go off a long distance and then come back straight over this

forest. When I approach you will hear the roar of the wind, and

thereupon you must cry out to these bones, ‘Arise, or the trees will

fall on you.’ They will obey you. I will pass over them and go to my

home; if you want me again, you may come for me.” The young man went to

work with great haste and laid together many skeletons. Nearly all the

bones were arranged when he heard the deep roar of the wind and knew

thereby the Great Head was coming. Then he called out, “Arise, you

bones, or the trees will fall on you,” [398] and as the Great Head

swept with an awful noise over the skeletons, all sprang to their feet.

The bones of two skeletons were interchanged. One who from the shape of

his foot had gone by the name of Sharp-pointed Moccasins had but one of

his own feet, while the second man had the other, so both were

cripples. One of these men had been enticed from a great distance; he

was a man-eater and wished to commence a meal at once, but the young

man killed him with a single blow of his club. Among those now restored

to life were the nine missing brothers. Each man found whatever he had

brought with him and all separated; those who did not know where their

homes were went with the brothers. Thus, again, after many years the 12

brothers were united.

106. ONGWE IAS [399] AND HIS BROTHER, DAGWANOENYENT

There was a man who had three nephews, and all lived in a lodge which

was divided into two parts by a partition. The old man lived in one

part and the young men in the other. There was no door between the two

rooms; they could talk only through the partition. The old man,

however, was an Ongwe Ias; he was a brother of the Dagwanoenyent who

chased the panther and her cubs.

When the old man went hunting he always started on a run, and one could

hear the sound of his going. The young men used to go hunting, too.

Whenever the old man came home they could hear him throw down a

person’s body and cut it up; then they could hear him eating. Afterward

he would ask the boys whether they had all returned from hunting,

whereupon they would say, “Yes.”

One morning after the old man had gone off the youngest of the three

started by himself. At a short distance from the lodge lay a big tree,

over which moss had grown everywhere. When he put his knee on this tree

to get over it he saw a man who had grown to the tree. The man said: “I

am glad you have come; I am tormented here. I think you would better

take me to your lodge. I will be a brother to you and stay with you as

long as you live.” “I do not think this would be well,” replied the

young man, “for our uncle is a man-eater; but I will go home and talk

with my two brothers, and tomorrow I will let you know our decision.”

That night when the old man got home he asked whether all had gotten

back. “Yes,” they answered. Then the youngest said to his uncle: “We

have found a man who wants to come here to be our brother and live with

us. You must not touch him.” The old man agreed not to injure him,

saying, “I will give him a name; he shall be called The-Found-One.”

[400] They brought the man in. When he had recovered his health he was

a swifter runner than the old man-eater.

One morning all started off to hunt, the three brothers and

The-Found-One. In the afternoon the old man came back home and stayed

in his part of the lodge. At night he asked, “Are you all here?” One

answered, “No; our eldest brother has not come.” The old man was

astonished, and told the second brother that he must start early the

next morning and follow his brother’s tracks.

In the morning the second brother started on the run to look for his

elder brother. After a while he came to a clearing, in the middle of

which sat an old woman; his brother’s tracks went straight toward her.

He made up his mind to inquire of the woman about him. Going straight

up to her, he asked, but she gave no answer. Then she struck him and

straightway he turned into bones. Now, two of the brothers were gone.

When night came and the uncle reached home, he asked the lone brother

whether all had returned. The youngest said, “No,” whereupon the uncle

said, “You must follow them and see what has happened.”

So the youngest went out the next morning, and soon reached the opening

or clearing, where he saw the gray-haired woman. It came into his mind

that she was the cause of the trouble; so taking a start he ran and

then jumped on her back, asking “Have you seen my brothers?” Having

said this, he jumped off. After trying in every way to hit him, at last

the woman just touched him and thereupon the three brothers were gone;

he, too, then becoming merely bones, like the other two.

At night when the old uncle returned he asked the fourth person,

The-Found-One, “Have your brothers come back?” “No,” was the answer. At

this the old man, astonished, said, “When you rise in the morning get

crotched sticks and make a platform on them; put as many stones as

possible on the platform, and then start in search of your uncle. You

can not help finding him. When you see him you must shoot him in the

forehead; then he will follow in the direction from which the arrow

comes.” The next morning, having made a platform, the man put on it as

many big stones as possible. After doing this, he started in the

direction the old man had pointed out. During the forenoon he heard a

big noise, and when he came out into a broad opening, or clearing, he

saw his uncle, Dagwanoenyent, on a great rock which he was eating,

biting off large pieces. On seeing him, The-Found-One shot an arrow at

his forehead, saying at the same time, “I have come for you, uncle.”

His uncle, the Great Head, followed him, and he shot another arrow. The

Great Head always followed the course of the arrow. After shooting

twice The-Found-One was back at the lodge, where he called to the old

man-eater, “Uncle, I have come.”

Very soon they heard the noise of a great wind, and Dagwanoenyent came,

and standing on the platform, began to eat stones;[401] the sound of

his craunching could be heard a long way. The man-eater spoke to his

brother Dagwanoenyent, saying: “I sent after you, and you have come.

The three brothers have gone and have not come back. Now I am going for

them, and if I do not return, you will come after me.” The next morning

The-Found-One was alone. Dagwanoenyent came, and standing on the

platform, ate a stone, and called out, “Have they returned?” “No,” was

the reply.

“Well, I am going after my brother; he ought not to eat men, if he too

gets lost.” With these words, Dagwanoenyent flew up high in the air.

The old woman knew he was coming, so shading her eyes with her hand,

she kept watch; presently she saw him approaching. Flying down where

she was, he bit at her, but she had disappeared; then he bit gravel. On

flying up he could see nothing. At last he hid behind a cloud and

watched until he saw her; thereupon, plunging down, he bit deep into

the ground, this time killing the old woman and letting out her blood.

Then he said to himself, “My brother should not eat people, if he is

such a coward that he can not kill an old woman.”

Dagwanoenyent had to bring to life his three nephews and his brother.

The-Found-One came to the place where the old woman was killed, and

Dagwanoenyent told him to put the bones together, and then to go to a

big hickory tree near by and push against it, calling out, “Rise! you

people, lest the tree fall on you.” Having put together the bones as

directed, he pushed against the tree, at the same time calling, “Rise!

lest the tree fall on you.” At once all came to life, whereupon the

man-eater said, “I give up; I will never eat man again.” All went home

together, and are said to be living in some parts of the Rocky

Mountains now. Dagwanoenyent is living still.

MEDICAL NOTE

107. NOTES ON THE MEDICINE NIKAHNEGAAH [30] [402]

Solomon O’Bail, an aged Seneca, living on the Cattaraugus Reservation,

in 1884 had about a tablespoonful of the Great Bird-medicine in the

form of powder.

Only a minute portion of this medicine, mixed with water, was needed.

In putting the small portion of the powder into the cup of water O’Bail

sprinkled a little on the east side of the cup, another portion on the

west side, and still another on the side nearest to the lips of the

patient. If all the powder remained on the surface of the water instead

of mixing with it, the indication was that the patient must die; but if

the powder dissolved completely in the water, this was taken as a sign

that the patient would live. When the powder would not mix with the

water the latter became of the consistency of sirup; but if it mixed,

the water remained clear. When the medicine would not dissolve in the

water the hochinagen [403] knew that there was no help for the patient

and would not give the medicine to him; but in case the powder

dissolved in the water, the solution was given to the sick man to

drink.

About 20 men on the Cattaraugus Reservation still had, in 1884, a small

portion of this medicine. This medicine is the same as that which the

birds made when they brought Bloody Hand to life. It is so powerful in

orenda, or magic potency, that when it was given to the sick by the

hochinagen the patient was forbidden to eat anything that was colored;

he could eat, however, pure white beans and pure white cob corn. If

anything black or in any manner colored was eaten, the taboo was

broken, and the man or woman would die, as the medicine’s virtue was

thus destroyed.

If another man came into the patient’s presence after having stopped to

see a corpse on the way, and looked at the patient, the sick person

would immediately grow worse and would die shortly thereafter. For this

reason it was customary to hang up a skin or a blanket so that the

patient should not by any chance see such a person.

It is said that medicine similar to this ancient bird medicine could be

made, but no one knows how to make corn grow without seed corn.

When this Nikahnegaah was taken, the smell of burning or broiling meat

had a bad effect on its virtues. During her catamenial periods a woman

was not permitted to look at a person who had taken this medicine; if

she did so he would surely die. Hence it was a standing rule that a

patient who had taken this medicine should not be seen by any one for

four days except the person who was caring for him.

When a person who was ill desired to try this medicine, he or some

friend was required to give a handful of native tobacco and some other

small present to the person who had the medicine. The hochinagen could

do what he pleased with the presents. The hochinagen would cast into

the fire a piece of the tobacco, at the same time saying to the

medicine, which he then held in his hand, “Take a smell of this

tobacco, for I am about to make use of you.” Then he would visit the

sick man, and taking a small vessel he would go to a running stream,

and after making an offering of tobacco to it in the name of the

patient, he would dip up the water with the current, not against it. He

took what water he could dip up in this manner.

If the sick man was not very ill, this one dose would cure him; but if

he was very ill other hochinagen who have this same kind of medicine

must come to assist in the cure. They must cook a kettle of white beans

for themselves and the singers who come to sing that night; they would

also give strength to the medicine by the burning of tobacco as

directed by the birds.

The first sentence of the song is “Now, this is the medicine to be

taken.” When the medicine is swallowed the words are, “Now, let it

begin to work over all his body.”

If the patient recovered his health he must celebrate the event by

preparing a feast, the chief dish of which must be a great kettle of

hulled corn seasoned with meat or venison cut into small pieces.

The hochinagen who gave him the medicine must come to sing and dance in

honor of the medicine through whose aid they were enabled to cure the

patient. Some of the sentences employed in the songs are: “The spirits

have come and they have cured the ill person”; “We now dismiss them

with thanksgiving”; and then they sing the songs employed when

preparing the medicine, of which some of the sentences are: “I have

been to the place of the plant”; “I have been to the mountain”; “I have

been at the falls”; “I have been beyond the clouds”; etc. After recess

they use: “Now we have assembled where the tobacco is”; “Now they meet

together, say the ducks”; “Now the deer with two prongs say, ‘We have

assembled,’” and similar lines. Only hochinagen may sing at this feast.

SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS