PART 2

Seneca material collected by J. N. B. HEWITT in native text, in 1896,

on Cattaraugus Reservation, New York, and translated by him, with two

texts with interlinear translations.

SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS

108. THE LEGEND OF HAYANOWE (“HE-THE-FLEET-FOOTED”)

Once there dwelt together in a lodge in a village two brothers. The

time of the story is autumn.

It so happened that the elder brother said to the younger, “Now, let us

go to the forest to hunt deer.” The younger answered, “So be it. We

will take our blowguns.” But the elder said: “As for me, I will not

take a blowgun. I will make use of a tomahawk and a knife, for the

reason that I am very fleet-footed.” The younger brother rejoined, “Let

it be so. I am satisfied with what you suggest,” adding, “Come, now!

let us start for the forest.”

So they started for their destination in a distant forest. They

encamped on the way three nights before they reached the rendezvous

where they knew game animals abounded. Then they erected at once a

temporary shelter for their camp.

In the morning the elder said, “Now, early in the day we must go out to

do our hunting.” But the younger brother replied, “You must follow me

around in the forest, and then you will see how fleet I am on the

course.” Then the two started out from their camp to hunt. Carrying

only a tomahawk and a hunting knife, the younger brother took the lead,

while the elder brother followed him, as requested. Just before

starting from their lodge the younger brother said to the elder: “Do

not take a blowgun with you, for just as soon as I kill anything you

must bring it back to our camp.”

Having gone into the forest some distance, they finally saw a large

herd of deer, which at once fled from them, whereupon, then, the

younger brother said: “Whenever I kill one I will call out in a loud

voice, ʻam, ʻam.” So saying, with loud shouts he pursued the deer into

the forest, and by the time the sun marked midday he had overtaken and

killed six deer, on account of his great fleetness of foot. Then the

two brothers rested from hunting for the day.

When they had retired to their camp, the elder, addressing his younger

brother, said, “Do not ever say that you are fleet of foot, because

that quality is an essential of your character.” But the hot-headed

younger brother answered, “I am fleet-footed, anyway.” At this the

elder brother scolded him, saying, “Do not ever say that again, because

something sinister will happen to us owing to that.” But the younger,

heedless of the advice, rejoined: “Let it be so then. I shall match

myself, however, with anything, be it an animal or a human being; it

matters not what it may be.”

When night came they lay down to sleep. In the morning, after their

morning meal, the two again went forth to hunt. After a long tramp they

reached a place in which they saw many deer. At once the younger

brother began to shout loudly in order to frighten the deer, so that

they would run away from him, and he would have the opportunity of

overtaking them. Hearing his outcries, the deer fled from him, and the

youth pursued them. By midday he had overtaken and killed six deer.

As he was returning to his camp, he was surprised to hear the voice of

a man speaking to him, saying, “Verily, is it not you who are fleet of

foot and swift on the course?” Looking around, the now frightened youth

saw at one side an opening—a roadway, as it were, through the

forest—and standing in this roadway at some distance he saw a man, or

what he took to be a man, gazing at him. Boastingly the youth replied,

“It is certainly true that I am fleet-footed.” Then the strange man, or

what the youth took to be a man, said: “I will run a race with you. You

keep saying at all times and places that there is no one able to

outfoot you, so let us make an agreement to run a race with certain

conditions tomorrow. At midday we shall meet here in this place; right

here. And we will agree to wager our lives on the issue of the race.

One of the conditions of the race must be that I shall follow you for

two days. When we start let us be as far apart as we are now—the

distance from the spot where you are standing to this place where I

stand. You shall choose the direction that we shall take in the race,

whether we shall camp for the night, or not. When you decide that we

shall camp for the night, you must say, ‘We will camp for the night’;

and where you stop you shall make a mark from which you shall start in

the morning, and then you can go aside to camp for the night. And there

you may kindle a fire and prepare any food that you may have with you

(said sneeringly).”

Then the youth who was swift of foot answered: “I agree to your

proposition, and if at the end of two days you do not overtake me, then

I shall pursue you.”

Then the strange man rejoined, “We have now come to an agreement on

this matter, and you must tell your elder brother of it.” The

fleet-footed youth replied, “Let it be so; I will tell it to my elder

brother.” Thereupon the strange man admonished the youth, saying, “You

must not fail in the least to be here just at midday tomorrow, and we

shall stand here again.” Then the youth, answering, said, “So let it

be,” and he started for the place where stood the temporary camp of his

elder brother and himself.

When he arrived there he found his brother at home. As soon as his

elder brother looked at him he said, “You look very dejected; possibly

you are ill.” The younger brother said: “I am not at all ill. Perhaps

the reason why I am looking as I do is that I saw a strange man, who

said to me, ‘Are you the person who keeps on saying “I am swift of

foot?”’ I replied that I am the person. Thereupon the stranger said, ‘I

will run you a race just to test your words. So tomorrow when the sun

will be at midday here in this very place you and I must again stand,

and from this place you and I must start.’ Moreover, he told me that I

must inform you, my elder brother. So I have now informed you.” And he

continued to sit with his head bowed as if in deep trouble.

Then the elder brother said: “Oh! my younger brother, you and I are

brothers, and we are about to die because of your doing that which I

have frequently forbidden you doing, namely, your continually saying,

‘I am fleet-footed.’ I kept saying to you that your talking thus would

bring us misfortune. Now that form of talking has this day severed our

minds one from the other.” Thereupon the elder brother began to shed

tears of bitter grief, saying between paroxysms of weeping: “Perhaps

that thing with which you have made an agreement to run a foot race

with your life as a wager is not at all a human being. Verily, no one

knows of what abominable species of monsters it comes.”

Seemingly undismayed, the younger brother replied, “Oh! my elder

brother, now you must make me two pairs of moccasins, and I shall take

with me also two ears of parched corn, which I shall place in my

bosom.” So the elder brother sat up the entire night to make the two

pairs of moccasins which his younger brother required in his race on

the morrow.

In the morning the two brothers conversed together. The elder said:

“When you start away I shall go to notify our friends in their

encampment; for perhaps the person with whom you are to run a foot race

is not a human being. Perhaps, too, you are about to die, so you and I

may be now talking together for the last time.” Then they parted there.

The younger brother went to the place where he had agreed to be at

midday for the beginning of the two days’ foot race. In due time he

arrived at the spot, and he was surprised to see standing there the

strange man who had challenged him to the race, and who now addressing

him said, “Now, truly, you have arrived on time.” In reply Hayanowe

(“He-the-Fleet-footed”) said, “I have arrived all right, and I am ready

for the race.” To this the stranger answered, “Come, now, which way

shall we go?” The youth then said, “So let it be. We will go toward the

east—toward the sunrise.” The strange man replied, “Come on then. Get

ready; and when you are ready you must say, ‘Come now; I am ready.’”

In a short time the youth said, “Come on now; I am ready.” Then the two

started on a run. The youth Hayanowe struck a steady gait. When the sun

was at the meridian, and again when it was midway between noon and

sunset, the strange man urged his youthful competitor, saying, “Exert

yourself, my friend.” These admonitions caused the youth some

perturbations of spirit; he even feared for his life; so he put forth

his topmost speed and ran swiftly until nearly sunset, when the

standing trees gave out loud sounds, which seemed to come as the result

of a force which struck them hard. Thereupon the youth heard the

strange man shout to him, “Exert yourself, my friend; I will overtake

you indeed.”

Then it became night, and the youth, remembering one of the provisions

of his agreement with the stranger, although he somewhat doubted the

stranger’s sincerity in making it, said in a loud voice, “Let us two

camp for the night, as we have agreed to do.” The stranger replied, “So

be it. Have you marked the end of your run for the day, too?” The youth

answered, “I have marked it, indeed.” To this the stranger rejoined,

“So be it. You may eat your food now, and so will I. You also must

kindle a fire if you need it.” So the youth kindled a fire, and so the

strange man did likewise. The youth could plainly see the fire of the

stranger, for it was not far away at all, indicating that his opponent

was close at his heels in the race. He then took out his parched corn

and ate it, after warming it at the fire. Hayanowe was ill at ease, for

he fully realized that he had unexpectedly met his match, perhaps more

than his match. While he was eating his parched corn the strange man

said to him, “In the morning, just as soon as you are ready to take up

the race again, you must say aloud, ‘I have now taken my stand on the

scratch.’” The youth, answering him, said, “Let it be as you say.” But

he could not sleep during the entire night. He spent the time in

devising some plan by which he might win the race from the unknown

stranger, whether man or beast. He thought of many things, finally

deciding that he would choose deep thickets as the course of the race,

to see whether they would not retard the fleetness of his antagonist.

The next morning very early he made his usual preparations and then

went to the scratch. Standing there, he shouted to his antagonist, “I

am now ready.” The stranger answered, “So be it. And you must also say

as you start, ‘Come now.’” The young man, giving the required verbal

notice of his start, leaped forward with a bound, as did his antagonist

and challenger.

The youth exerted himself to the utmost, indeed, running at his topmost

speed. Finally he came to a dense thicket, which was large in extent,

which he entered at once. Stopping for a moment, he listened intently

for sounds made by his pursuer. It was not long before he heard the

sounds in the distance made by the stranger as he, too, entered the

thicket. The crackling of sticks and boughs sounded to him as if the

object pursuing him possessed great weight and strength.

In resuming his race for life, the youth said in his mind: “So now it

is again my turn to flee. I shall go back to the place where abide my

kinsfolk and my elder brother.” He then changed his course from the

east to the southwest. Running at top speed, he came to a mountain,

which he ascended and passed over. Then, not knowing whether his

challenger was still on his track, he listened for any sounds which

might indicate that he was being pursued. He had not been standing

there long when he heard the voice of his pursuer in the distance say,

“Exert yourself, my friend.” Again the youth put forth all his power,

running as swiftly as it was possible for him to do. He was directing

his course for the place where abode his kinsfolk and his elder

brother, for he had repassed their temporary camp in the forest, but

his brother had already fled. So he kept on thinking, “He has gone back

to the place where dwell my kinsfolk.” Having arrived there, he found

that they, too, had left their settlement, because his dear elder

brother had informed them of the conditions of the foot race, whereupon

they decided at once that their kinsman’s antagonist was not a human

being. They had fled because the elder brother had said: “We shall all

die if we remain here. I really do not know what kind of a being it is

that has challenged my younger brother to this foot race. Come, then,

let us flee from here.”

The youth, surmising where they had gone in their distress, followed a

course which would take him to their asylum. While he was running he

was greatly surprised to find a woman lying in his path. Stopping a

moment, he asked, “What is the matter with you?” She replied, “I was

ill when they decided to flee, so they built a cradle in which to bear

me along with them. They bore me along in it. Finally I said, ‘Put me

down here in this place, because I am ill in the manner of all women.’

[404] I will die here. Not having any women to bear me, I was left by

them here. And you must beware for I am still ill in the manner of all

women, and I am very, very ill thereby.”

The youth, answering, said, “So be it. Right here you and I are about

to die. There is coming behind me an animal, and I do not know what it

is or what it looks like. And I do not know whether we shall be aided

by what I am about to suggest.” Then he came forward from the direction

he had come and corpus ejus (mulieris) ille ita convertit ut pedes ad

animal appropinquans spectarent; eoque tempore cruribus mulieris

expansis omnibusque vestimentis ab ea sublatis corpus ejus sanguine

mentruo opertum vidit. Then He-the-Fleet-footed said to her, “Now, you

must remain perfectly quiet; do not move under any circumstances.” So

saying, he concealed himself behind a large tree near by, behind which

he awaited developments.

Looking back to the spot where the woman lay, he heard the sounds,

Woqʹ, woqʹ, woqʹ, approaching nearer and nearer and resounding very

loud. While looking back to see what was in pursuit of him, he saw at

last an animal following his tracks on the run. It was very large,

without a tail, and it had no hair on its body; there were only a few

bristles, which stood along the center of its back.

It came up to the place where the woman lay and it stopped there [tum

se gessit tamquam si aliquid insoliti odoraretur, cruoremque circa

corpus mulieris concretum intuitum est. Jam brevi tempore corpus

animalis tamquam frigore tremuit, iterumque sanguinem odorans]; its

body again quivered violently, and the great creature became nauseated.

It vomited a great quantity of blood, and in a short time fell over

dead, and its feet resounded on the ground.

The youth, who watched these things from his position behind the great

tree, now went to the place where the animal lay; when he placed his

foot on the body the entire carcass moved to and fro, showing that the

beast was dead. Then the boy removed the woman to a spot some distance

from the place where she first lay, saying to her for her comfort, “Lie

here a while. I will pursue our kinsfolk to learn whither they have

gone.” Thereupon he started on the trail with great fleetness of foot.

He had not followed the trail very far when he overtook them; they were

in large number, and among them was his elder brother. Coming up to

them, he said, “You must all turn back to see what kind of an animal it

was against which I ran the foot race.”

So all the people turned back, going directly to the place where they

had left the woman who was ill. When they reached the spot the ancients

held a council and, after carefully examining the animal, said, “This

is what is called Yăʼgwaiʻhē.[405] It is this thing which you overcame

in the foot race, the conditions of which have now been fulfilled. You

two wagered your heads on the issue of the trial of speed. So, then, we

will now kindle a huge fire. Let each one bring a piece of dry fuel.”

So, going out into the neighboring forest, each brought back a piece of

dry wood; with this wood they kindled a great fire. As soon as the fire

had become very large they cast into it the body of this animal, and

then they threw dry wood on the top of the body, causing the fire to

burn fiercely. When the fire died down only a few charred bones were

left of the huge animal. Then the eldest man of the assembly said: “Let

each one take a portion of these bones and make of it a fetish

(otcinăʻkĕⁿʼʹdăʼ) for hunting some kind of game animal, which he must

name; this fetish will give him the power to kill easily the animal

thus named.” So each of the assembly did as the hochinagen had

directed. One would take up a fragment saying, “I will employ this for

hunting the bear.” Another would say, “I will make use of this in

hunting deer.” A third person, “I will employ this for hunting

raccoons.” A fourth, “I will use this for hunting the otter.” A fifth,

“I will use this for fishing for sturgeon.” A sixth person, “I will

make use of this for trapping minks.” A seventh, “I will employ this

for hunting the raven.” An eighth, “I will use this for hunting women

(i.e., for winning the favors of the women).” Lastly, some vulgar,

worthless persons would say that they would employ the bones for

various filthy functions of the body.

Then placing on a pack-cradle for carrying wounded persons the woman

who was ill, they started for their homes, where they arrived safe.

This is the end of the story of Hayanowe.

109. OÑGWEʻ HAÑGESʹʻHÄʼ AND GAJIHSONDIS (SKIN-OF-MAN AND SPIKE-HITTER

[406])

In former times an uncle and his nephew dwelt together in a lodge. The

name of the old man was Oñgwe Hañgesha and that of his nephew

Gajihsondis.

It was the custom of the uncle when he left to be absent some time to

fasten his nephew securely in the lodge. He was also in the habit of

giving to his nephew the foot of a bear, with these instructions: “You

must remain in here quietly, and you must continue to shoot at the

bear’s foot. Whenever you hit the foot you shall say aloud,

‘Gajihsondis,’ but if it so happen that you do not hit the foot, you

shall not say that name. So you must keep at this business during the

entire day, but whenever you become hungry you must eat food which you

know is here ready for you to eat. Just as soon as you have finished

your meal, then you must again begin to shoot at the bear’s foot; you

must not stop in this task, but must continue to shoot at the bear’s

foot without ceasing.”

So the little nephew did as his uncle had instructed him to do, and

whenever he was fortunate enough to hit the bear’s foot he would

exclaim loudly, “Wagajihsondis!”

At last the nephew began to wonder what his uncle ate, for he had never

seen him eating anything. So Gajihsondis finally decided to watch the

old man and to continue doing so during the approaching night, as the

young boy had concluded that his uncle ate his meals at night. The boy

mused to himself, saying, “Tonight I will watch my uncle during the

whole time.”

So in the evening, when Gajihsondis lay down for the night, he wrapped

himself up in an old piece of skin; he lay on one side of the fire and

his uncle on the other. There was a rent in the skin covering of

Gajihsondis, probably a hole which he had made in it for the occasion,

and through this he peered as he watched his uncle. This hole in the

skin was very, very small. The boy did not sleep, but kept a watch on

his uncle to learn on what the latter fed to sustain life, for they two

had never taken a meal together.

At midnight, possibly a little past that time, the small boy, who was

on the watch, was surprised to see his uncle blow with great force on

the fire in the fireplace.[407] At once sparks shot up from the fire,

some of which fell on the boy as he lay there. But the little hero kept

quite still, although his uncle, in order to see whether the boy was

awake, said, “Gwēʹʻ, my nephew, you will burn; look out!” But still the

boy kept still. Then, after the lapse of a long time, the uncle arose

and while watching the seemingly sleeping boy, drew from beneath his

couch a bark case, such as was in use in the early times. He took

therefrom a small kettle and from the kettle something which the

watching boy did not recognize. The old man hung the kettle over the

fire, and then he again blew on the fire and the flames began to burn

briskly; and he kept on blowing the fire until it had become hot enough

to cook a meal. He had placed water in the kettle when he set it over

the fire—just the right amount for his purpose. Then the old man began

to scrape some object and permitted the scrapings to fall into the

kettle. The old man was acting just as one would have acted while

making chestnut mush. All the time he was being watched by his nephew,

who was called “Gajihsondis.”

When the mush was cooked the old man removed the kettle from the fire

and set it aside, and then he took out what he had cooked in a bark

dish and began to eat. When he had finished his meal, he blew on the

kettle and it began at once to grow small in size; then, blowing on it

a second time, the kettle became as small as it was at first, which was

very, very small. When it had returned to its normal size the old man

wrapped it up in something which the watching nephew did not recognize,

but before doing so he placed in the kettle the something out of which

he had made the mush which he had just eaten. Then he again drew out

the bark case from beneath his couch and replaced therein the kettle

and its contents. Having done this, he pushed the case back into its

hiding place. Thereupon the old man lay down again. His nephew had

observed him carefully in all that he had done—this for the first time

since they two had lived together, and while the boy was growing up.

The morning after this episode the old man made his usual preparations

for going out to hunt, and said to his nephew, “You must eat whenever

you get hungry.” He repeated this saying often.

Then the boy began to sport, as he had been instructed to do by his

uncle. Wherever he threw the bear’s foot he would attempt to hit it by

shooting at it. Throwing it here, he would shoot at it, and throwing it

there, he would shoot at it. When he hit it he would exclaim loudly

“Gajihsondis,” as he had been told to do.

When it was the usual time for the uncle to return from his hunting

trip, the boy would say to himself, “My uncle will soon be back now.”

So one day the youth said, “I believe I will prepare food for my uncle

against the time of his return.” Going at once to his uncle’s couch, he

drew from under it the bark case and took therefrom the kettle, which

was very small in size, and also an insignificant looking object

contained in the latter, which his uncle had scraped down to about

one-half its original size.

Next the lad blew on the kettle to increase its size, as he had seen

his uncle do, and after it had become sufficiently large he put water

into it and set it over the fire, musing to himself, “So be it. I will

now prepare food for my uncle, for he soon will return very hungry.”

The lad now blew on the kettle the second time, whereupon it increased

slightly only in size; so he continued to blow on it until finally it

was large enough to suit him, when he said, “It is now large enough.”

Then he began to scrape into the kettle from the small object, but soon

he exclaimed, “Oh, pshaw! it is not enough. I will scrape it all into

the kettle.” Having done this he said, “Perhaps this food is abundant

in the place whence he obtains it, so I have used it all.” As he began

to stir it briskly, using a paddle for the purpose, the mush commenced

to boil with great violence. At last, realizing that the mush was

rapidly increasing in quantity in the kettle, the boy merely kept on

stirring it. As soon as he began to blow on it to cool it, the mush

increased still more rapidly in bulk. While he continued to stir and

blow on the mush, it began to overflow and to fill the room around the

fire. Still he kept on as before (not realizing the effect of his

blowing), until at last he had to run over the couches at the side of

the room in his anxiety to stir the mush, for he was now thoroughly

frightened at what he had done. As he again blew on the mush flowing

from the kettle it still continued to increase in quantity until

finally he was driven from the room by the great mass, and had to climb

upon the roof of the lodge. Here he ran around while he vigorously

stirred the mush, which, with the kettle, entirely filled the lodge.

Suddenly he noticed his uncle approaching in great haste, anxiously

looking up at the lodge, for he saw his nephew Gajihsondis running

around on the roof. When the uncle reached the doorway, which, as was

the custom in those times, was closed by two pieces of bark, he found

these ajar, for the inside of the lodge was, as already said, filled

with the mush and kettle. The uncle began to blow on the mush,

whereupon it at once diminished in quantity, and after he had blown on

it many times it was reduced to small bulk.

The nephew still stood on the roof of the lodge, greatly frightened.

The uncle said to him, “Come, now, Gajihsondis, get down from there.”

At this the nephew descended from the roof and reentered the lodge.

Thereupon his uncle said, “Now you have killed me. I did not think that

you would do this, although fear that you might is the reason why I

never permitted you to see me prepare my food, because you have no

sense.” Then covering himself with a skin robe, he lay down, adding:

“So I shall die here. I do not know that there is anything left for me

to eat. Hunger will kill me, and you have brought this about by your

acts.” Having said this he covered himself up completely.

Thereupon the boy arose and standing beside the couch of his uncle,

said beseechingly, “Oh, my uncle! my mother’s brother, only have pity

on me. But tell me where the place is in which abounds that on which

you live?” The old uncle replied commiseratingly: “It is no use for me

to tell you. You are not able to go to obtain it, on account of the

great difficulties along the path; there are all manner of discouraging

perils along the way, for all manner of demoniac creatures lay in

ambush along the path.[408] And so for these reasons I think you are

unable to undertake the task of trying to get me more of my food.” The

boy simply asked, “What is the name of the substance you eat?” “It is

called Chestnut. Far from here it is planted by personages, beastlike

in appearance, which are full of evil magic power or otkon in their

actions.” “Oh, mother’s brother! it is needful for you to tell me the

direction that the path takes going to that place,” said the lad. The

uncle answered, “It is impossible for you to do anything in that

direction; you are powerless. You can not make the attempt and live.”

Then after some reflection he added, “The path leads directly west from

here.” To this the boy Gajihsondis answered: “I will make the attempt.

I will start, and I will get this thing called Chestnut that you are in

the habit of eating. So now I go. I have fastened together two limbs.

You must look at these from time to time. Whenever they break apart,

you will know that I have had ill luck away from here; that probably I

shall be killed by them. So only keep a watch on this thing, and if it

chance that they do not break apart, you may expect me to return after

the lapse of some time, bringing chestnuts.” So saying, the boy started

on his journey.

After going some distance he found a very narrow path which led

directly westward, and remarked, “This is perhaps the path indicated by

my uncle.” Finally he started to run, when all at once he heard sounds

seemingly made by a rattle. Keeping on, at last he came to the place

whence the sounds proceeded. There he found two huge rattlesnakes, one

on each side of the path, blocking it in such manner that he could not

pass. Going aside, he killed a large number of chipmunks, which he

bound into two equal bundles. Returning to the place where the two

rattlesnakes were on guard, he said to them, “You two seem to be in

need of food, and so I think that you two would like to eat these

things.” With these words he threw a bundle of chipmunks to each of the

rattlesnakes, which they ate.

After the two rattlesnakes had devoured the chipmunks the boy said to

them in a commanding tone: “You two must withdraw from this place, for,

you know, you are slaves, indeed; you must go from place to place to

hunt for your food, for this is always pleasant; and He who gave

faculties to our bodies did not intend that anyone should be held in

bondage.” Thereupon the two rattlesnakes withdrew and went aside from

that place; thus were they freed from their bondage to sorcerers.

Then the boy left on a very swift run, carrying only his bow and

arrows. Again, after having gone a long distance, he heard sounds in

the distance. Having reached the place whence came the sounds, he was

surprised to find there a great bear just beside the path, and, looking

on the other side of the path, he saw another of equal size and

ferocity; they were in ambush and barred the passage of the path. The

noises that he had heard were made by the tusks of these animals, which

projected far from their jaws and could be heard at a long distance,

thus—dūʼ, dūʼ, dūʼ, dūʼ.

Then the boy, taking his bow and arrows, went aside to hunt. He killed

two fawns, one of which he threw to the one bear, and the other to the

other bear, in order to occupy their minds and mouths. He said to these

guarding beasts: “It is too bad that you two are barring the way. One

might think you would be glad to eat this food which I now offer you.”

The bears ate what had been given to them and were quiet for the time

being. The youth then gave them this command: “You must withdraw from

this place; what you are now eating is abundant, as is well known; and

you must eat this kind of food regularly hereafter. You shall be free

to go and come as you choose, for He who made our lives did not intend

that you should be enslaved by sorcerers and confined to one place.”

The two bears at once fled from the spot, one going in one direction

and the other in another.

Then the boy went on his way. He had not gone very far when he heard

other sounds—dūmʻ, dūmʻ, dūmʻ. He soon came to the place where the

sounds were made, and he was indeed frightened, for then the sounds

were fearful in volume and rapidity. He was astonished to see two great

firedragons in ambush, guarding the pathway. Thereupon the boy said,

“So let it be; I will make the attempt.” Running aside, he killed a

large deer, and having dragged the body back to the place where the two

firedragons were, he divided it into two portions. Then saying, “You

two are guarding this pathway, and one would think that you might eat

what I am offering you.” He threw a piece to each of them. They were

pleased to get this food, which they ate ravenously; after doing this

they were quiet for the time being. Then the boy again spoke, saying,

“You two beings must withdraw from this place. This is food good to

eat; it is called deer meat. You now go to some other place. You are

indeed slaves, are you not? But He who completed our lives did not

intend that anyone should be a slave to a sorcerer.” He ceased

speaking, and the two firedragons fled from the spot, as they had

obtained their liberty.

Now the boy passed on. After having run a long way from his home, he

suddenly saw in the distance openings in the forest, which seemed to

indicate that there might be people dwelling in those places. So he

went along slowly and craftily, concealing himself as much as possible;

he arrived at the edge of the clearing, where he stood for a while. He

looked around to learn, if possible, what other antagonists he had to

meet. Suddenly he saw hanging up not far away the skin of a dead woman

watching the pathway. This woman’s skin [409] was guarding the trees of

chestnuts which grew in the clearing into which the boy had come. In

performing this duty the skin kept saying, “I espy (out-eye) you. You

who are a human being, I suppose.” But the boy kept very still,

standing at the edge of the clearing. He saw in the distance a lodge

that stood on the farther side of the clearing, and he saw women going

in and coming out of it. Most of these were maidens. On looking around

the boy saw the chestnut trees that grew there, and he noticed that

they bore many burs. He realized at once that within these burs were

the chestnuts. And as he watched he saw some of the chestnuts fall from

the trees.

But while he was thus engrossed he was surprised to hear the woman’s

skin begin to sing, Giʹ-nu, giʹ-nu, giʹ-nu, giʹ-nu; “I espy a human

being,” and then out of the lodge in the distance the boy saw three

women and their mother emerge. The mother, addressing her daughters,

exclaimed, “Exert yourselves, my children! I suppose, now, that some

one has come to rob us of our chestnuts.” The skirts of these women

reached to a point just above their knees, and they carried war clubs.

They ran toward the place where hung the woman’s skin, which was

guarding their chestnut trees. When they arrived there they found no

human being. Thereupon the old woman angrily said, “Indeed, you have

told a falsehood,” and struck the hanging skin with her war club, and

each of her daughters, running up, did likewise. Then all the women

went back to their lodge, and the boy said to himself, “How may I

deceive this woman on the watch?” At last he hit upon a scheme which he

thought would accomplish his purpose. Stripping off a piece of basswood

bark as wide as his person, he removed the outside rough portion of

suitable length. Spreading this out on the ground, he drew thereon with

a piece of charcoal the outlines of many kinds of animals, all true to

nature. He then filled the outlines with the animals he had drawn—the

bear, the deer, the wolf, the fox, and the raccoon; in fact, with the

forms of all the animals.

Then the youth returned to the edge of the clearing, where he again

took his stand. He found the skin of the dead woman still hanging

there, watching, looking this way and that, to detect, if possible, the

approach of any stranger. In full readiness to execute his design, he

finally started toward the skin, and, running swiftly, reached the spot

before she was aware of his approach. Seizing it at once, the skin

ceased swinging. Thereupon the boy said to it: “Do not report my taking

this pile of chestnuts away with me. I will pay you for this favor;

indeed, I will pay you a very high price; it is of the value of a man’s

life. I will pay you with what is called a wampum belt, which is made

of wampum beads.” Saying this, he gave her what he had made, and she

accepted it. She opened her eyes wide in looking at it, exclaiming,

“Oh! it is beautiful,” for it looked fine to her, and she laughed with

delight. Then she said, “So be it; I will not give the alarm.”

Answering, “Do not give the alarm,” he proceeded to take a bark case of

chestnuts which had been left there temporarily. Placing this on his

back by means of a forehead strap, he departed at once. He had not gone

very far when suddenly he heard the voice of the hanging skin of the

woman singing, “Giʹ-nuʻ, giʹ-nuʻ, giʹ-nuʻ; one has closed my mouth with

a belt of wampum. Giʹ-nuʻ; at the edge of the clearing goes the pack of

chestnuts.”

On hearing this, the old woman, the mother of the three women in the

distant lodge, said urgently, “Take courage! Bestir yourselves, my

children! I suppose some one has now robbed us of our chestnuts.” In a

moment they rushed out of the lodge and ran toward the place where the

woman’s skin hung swinging to and fro, singing the notes of alarm. They

soon arrived there, and, lo! the skin swung to and fro, gazing intently

at a wampum belt, and saying, “It is of the value of a human life, and

by it one closed my mouth.” The women rushed up, and their mother

snatched the so-called belt from her hands, exclaiming: “This is not a

wampum belt; it is a piece of bark, and still you say it is a belt of

wampum. You, indeed, have no sense.” And throwing the piece of bark

away she struck the skin of the woman a cruel blow with her war club.

Continuing her rebuke, she said, “It is too true that you have no

sense. It is entirely your fault that one has robbed us of our

chestnuts.” Then the woman, looking far away in the distance, saw the

pack, consisting of the case of chestnuts, disappearing in the forest

beyond the edge of the clearing. Then the old woman said: “Come! Let us

pursue him. It is distressing to think that he has robbed us. On the

other hand, it seems that he is a person who has more orenda (magic

power) than his uncle Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ (“Human Skin”), this

Gajihsondis. So, therefore, let us pursue him and kill him with blows

of our war clubs. If, perchance, we may be able to overtake him, we

will surely kill him.”

It so happened that Gajihsondis heard the footsteps of the women as

they drew near in pursuit of him, and without further ado, he took his

pack from his back and laid it down, and seated himself beside it.

When the women came close to him on the run, he struck the case of

chestnuts with his arrow, saying: “It seems that I should sing you a

song so that you may dance, because you come in so great anger. It is

fine, indeed. The song that I will sing is pleasant to hear. So, now,

you must dance.”

Then he sang: “One shall not return from the upper side of the sky. One

shall not return from the upper side of the sky. One shall not return

from the upper side of the sky. One shall not rob me of my song (the

orenda of my song).” He kept on singing this song; and the women, the

mother and her daughters, danced without ceasing as they circled around

the spot where he was seated; and the mother kept on saying, “Exert

yourselves my children; this is a very fine song.” But Gajihsondis kept

on singing, “On the upper side of the sky, on the upper side of the

sky, on the upper side of the sky, one shall not return thence”; and

the women kept on rising in the air. Before long they had ascended half

the height of the tallest trees, and they still danced on. Then

Gajihsondis suddenly ceased his singing, and taking up his pack and

slinging it on his back by the forehead strap, started on homeward

leisurely. He had not gone very far when suddenly he saw the body of a

woman falling, followed in quick succession by the bodies of three

other women, all falling, head foremost, to the earth.

Then the young man started for home, but he stopped along the way to

rest at times. Without further adventure he reached his uncle’s lodge,

bearing the bark case full of chestnuts. On reaching the lodge he

called out, “Oh, my uncle! Are you still living?” The old man, who was

indeed feeble, replied: “Alas, my nephew, it can still be said I am yet

alive, my nephew—you who are called Gajihsondis.” His nephew answered:

“I have now returned, and I bring with me what I sought to obtain; I

have a large quantity. So now you can eat again, and now I will prepare

mush of chestnuts for you, and you will again become satisfied with a

sufficiency of food, and will recover your health.” So saying, the

young man set to work making a very large quantity of the mush for his

poor old uncle. When it was cooked, he removed the kettle containing it

from the fire and poured the mush on a piece of bark. Then he went to

the side of his uncle, and raising him up and urging him to be of good

cheer, fed him the mush, although his uncle could hardly move. The old

man ate the mush, for he was nearly famished; his privations had

reduced his body to a mere skeleton—just skin and bones. He ate a large

quantity before he had enough. He did indeed recover his strength and

health.

Later the old man said to his nephew: “My nephew, I am very thankful

indeed that you were able to accomplish this great task. The only thing

I did was to watch the branch, which was the index of your state and

situation. I could only think that you were still alive. I now again

thank you for being able to accomplish this great task. On my part, I

am much delighted with our fortune.

“Now I am going to ask you by what unheard-of means did you accomplish

this great task.” The young man answered: “I, of course, know, but I

will tell you only this: That I have destroyed all those women,

possessed of great orenda and moved by evil purposes.” The uncle said,

“So be it. What a wonderful thing this is. You and I will return to

that place.” To this the youth replied: “So let it be,” and then, after

making their usual preparations, they departed. They stopped along the

route and finally reached the spot where the women dwelt who had

planted chestnut trees. The only one who was alive was the skin of the

woman which was hung up to swing to and fro and to watch and to give

the alarm should any person make his appearance.

When they arrived at the empty lodge of the women they unfastened and

uncovered the bark cases containing chestnuts, which the women had

stored and guarded from all mankind. Taking up a handful of the

chestnuts, the old man exclaimed in a loud voice: “All people shall eat

this food. Never shall it again be the possession of a single family,

but it shall be for all human beings”; and they scattered the chestnuts

in all directions by handfuls. When they had completed their task they

went to the place where the skin of the woman was swinging to and fro.

Arriving there, they took down the skin, and the old man said to her:

“You shall go together with us to our home. You will recover, indeed,

from that awful thing which the women had done to you, and you shall be

restored to the likeness of a living human being.” So saying, he

proceeded to rub her entire body with his hands reenforced by his great

orenda (magic power). She soon was restored to her normal figure and

condition, and she again had the appearance of a human being.

Then the old man, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, said to her and his nephew, “Come

now, let us start for home”; and after making suitable preparations,

they departed. They stopped to camp many places on the way, but in due

time they arrived at their home, whereupon the old man said to his

nephew: “We have now returned to our home. You have now also grown to

manhood, and it is a custom that when one attains to manhood, he

marries. Marriage must take place in your case now. You must start on a

10-days’ journey. There are on the way 10 camping places with

fireplaces, which are visible. That is the distance which you must go.

To reach this place you must go eastward, and there you will find a

valley. You must go along the path leading thither. You must summon all

your courage and resolution in undertaking this journey, for along this

path there are found all manner of difficulties and dangers. Along this

path you will find one who is called Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ (the Abuseful

Trickster), who continually haunts this pathway. Come, now! I will

dress you for the occasion.” So he anointed him abundantly with

sunflower oil over his entire body. He said to him: “You must take

along with you this pouch of human skin, in which there is a smoking

pipe which was the skull of a human being; and for a lighter there are

a flint and a piece of tinder, or punk; and also an awl and a knife.

These are the things this pouch contains, and with these you will

provide for your needs on the way. You must now start. The trees along

the way have been blazed, and you will find the camping places,

although it is not certain that they are still easily discovered. But

you must find them, and there you must spend the night. This you must

do for 10 nights, and then your pathway will lead you to the valley.

There you shall find assembled a large concourse of people, and you

shall see there also the home of a woman who has a tall tree, on the

top of which are perched mysterious Hawks (?), three in number, which

are her servants and which obey her thaumaturgic commands; but these

are three of her daughters. He who will hit one of these mysterious

birds shall be privileged to marry her youngest daughter, who is a

“down-fended” [410] virgin; that is to say, a noble virgin. So the

fortunate one shall marry her. And so you shall go thither. It is known

that in the days that have gone by no one has hit one of these

mysterious birds, although those who shoot at them daily are very

numerous. You it is who will be able to hit the bird. Come, then, now

depart. But perhaps it might be better that another day should break on

us together; that you and I should again eat together, for we know that

it is very doubtful whether you shall return in health and peace. All

manner of difficulties and dangers fill the way which you must follow.

“If it be so that you become a son-in-law, then you must say to your

mother-in-law, ‘I shall now smoke my pipe.’ And when you have lighted

your pipe you shall inhale the smoke twice, and your mother-in-law must

spread a buckskin on the ground. Then you shall inhale the smoke only

twice and shall expectorate wampum beads thereon. Together in one place

you and I shall eat again and also sleep again.”

So they spent the night in the lodge together, and in the morning they

ate together. When they had finished their meal the young man said: “I

am all ready now. Oh, uncle! I start now. Put forth, therefore, your

orenda (magic power = hope, in modern usage) that in peace and health

you and I may see each other again.” The old uncle answered, “So let it

be as you have said.” The young man replied, “Indeed, you did say that

there are 10 camping sites indicated by signs of fireplaces on the way,

and that it is 10 days’ journey.” So saying, he started on his journey.

After leaving the lodge the young man ran very swiftly. He had not gone

very far, as he judged, when he was surprised to see the ashes and the

dead coals of a former fire—the signs of a camping place. At this he

exclaimed, “Ah! he did not say that some of the camping places were

quite near.” He stopped and thought seriously for some moments, finally

deciding to return to the lodge for further information from his old

uncle. So he ran homeward, going to the place where lived his uncle,

his mother’s brother. On arriving there the uncle said to him, “Well,

what has happened to you?” The young man answered, “I have come to ask

you again about my journey. You did not say that one of the camping

places was near by.” The old uncle exclaimed, “Wuʻʹ! Did you go as far

as that?” “I went as far as that,” replied the young man. The uncle

answered, “Ho, you are indeed quite immune to the spells of sorcery.

These camping places are all like this one along the way.” The young

man replied, “So be it. I will stop there again. It does not matter,

does it, that you and I see daylight together?” The old man was much

discouraged. Daylight came upon them, and they ate their morning meal

together. When they had finished eating, the old man, addressing his

nephew, said, “You shall hereafter be called Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ. It

shall be your custom when anyone asks you your name to say, Oñgweʻ

Hañgesʹʻhäʼ.” The young man answered, “So be it. I now start,” and he

left the lodge of his uncle.

The youth came to the place marked for the first camping place, but he

passed it and kept on, and thus he did with all the others, until he

arrived at the tenth camping place, although the sun was low in the

west when he had reached the first one. At the tenth camping place he

saw that the forest edges were wreathed in long films of dew clouds,

and he stopped there for the night. Quickly arising in the morning, he

was startled to hear the voices of a number of men, who were laughing

as they went eastward, and who passed by on the path.

The young man got ready and went on. When he reached the pathway he saw

that all the tracks indicated that these persons were going eastward.

He continued his journey along the path in the same direction. Suddenly

he saw ahead of him a man, who was very old in appearance and very,

very small in size. Just before overtaking him the young man decided

that this must be Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ, who was in tatters. When the young

man came up with him, the small man exclaimed; “Oh, my nephew! you have

overtaken me, so now you and I will go on together. For all are going

in pairs. All those who are going to the place where the Hawks (?),

perched on the woman’s tree, forthtell for her. I shall follow you, as

you can go so much faster than I.” Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ answered:

“It is impossible for me to agree to that proposition. You yourself

take the lead, because I am fleeter than are you.” The only reply the

old man made was, Wuʻʹ, and then they two went on with the old man in

the lead. All at once he began to run. Hohoʻʹ, he ran on ahead. He kept

on for a long distance, and then suddenly he turned aside into the

forest. In a short time he began calling, “Hō! come hither, my nephew.

I have treed a fisher here, and you must get its skin for me. Come,

come!” he kept on saying; “you must shoot it, too, and this is a good

place to stand when you are about to shoot at it. Come on, come on!” he

kept on saying. Finally, the young man said, “I will shoot it.” Then he

went thither and shot at it, striking it fairly through the heart, and

with the arrow still sticking into it the fisher fell dead to the

ground. The old man exclaimed, “Come on! Come this way. I forbear

touching your arrow.” Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said, “My arrow has lost

its orenda (magic power).” Overhearing this remark, the old man said,

“Wuʻʹ. One would think perhaps that he is a sorcerer,” and he then drew

out the arrow from the dead fisher, and carried it to his companion,

saying, “I am free from (magical) taint, you know, and so I can not

de-magic-ize [411] your arrow. Here, take it!”

The young man took the arrow again and they went on to the spot where

they would encamp for the night. When they arrived at the place the sun

was low in the west. The old man said to his nephew, in order to remove

any apprehensions from his mind as to his own good intentions, “I will

now skin the fisher and prepare its skin.” At this time they heard in

the distance the sounds of persons laughing. And, they say, these

persons made their several camps there. Then Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ said,

“Here let us, for our part, pitch our camp, because when among people I

am much abused because I am quite old.” So Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and his

companion kindled a fire with fagots and soon had it burning briskly.

Each took opposite sides of the fire and lay down to sleep for the

night.

Some time during the night the crafty Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ sat up and blew

the fire up in such manner that sparks and coals fell all over Oñgweʻ

Hañgesʹʻhäʼ as he lay asleep. But the latter arose suddenly and asked,

“Why have you done this unreasonable thing?” The old man

dissimulatingly replied, “Oh! that was probably caused by a gust of

wind driving the sparks over your body.” Then they lay down again.

Again, just before the break of day, the old man once more blew the

fire on his seemingly sleeping companion. Thereupon the latter arose,

and taking his bow and flint-pointed arrow, crossed over the fireplace

to the place where his companion was lying. He was surprised to see him

awake, looking at him. The old man deprecatingly said, “Oh, my nephew!

you do not seem to know that you were nearly burned up, as the fire was

falling on you; and you must not think that it was I who did this to

you.” Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ was greatly astonished at what had happened

and said to his companion, “If you do not refrain from what you are

doing it is possible for me to destroy you.”

When it was nearly daylight sounds were heard in the camp ahead and the

occupants started on their journey; then the two in turn started on

their way. They had not gone very far when they heard sounds in the

distance which told them that they had arrived at the place in which

were congregated all the people who were shooting at the mark.

Sʻhodieʹoⁿskoⁿʼ and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ kept right on their way until

they reached the spot. The nephew did not fear anything. Once on the

ground they were quickly made aware that a tree stood there and that on

its top sat a hawk (?) or hawks (?). There was a large number of people

who were engaged in shooting at the prize, seemingly fastened to the

top of the trees, which stood in the dooryard of the old woman who

dwelt in this place; but all failed to hit the mark. A short distance

from the place where the people were engaged in shooting at the mark

there stood a lodge, in which the old woman, the mother of the family,

walked to and fro, murmuring, “He who will hit that thing which is

perched on the top of my tree shall marry my youngest daughter.” She

kept on saying this as she went from place to place. Without cessation,

day after day for many days the marksmen kept on shooting at the hawk

(?) perched on the top of the old woman’s tree. Sometimes an arrow

would fly very close to the bird, which would merely flap its wings; at

this the assembly would give a loud shout of encouragement. At once the

old woman would come forth on the run and would ask anxiously, “Who is

it that hit the mark? Who is it that is my son-in-law?” But the people

would reply, “It is not true that one has hit it. No one has done so.”

Then she would return to her lodge somewhat disappointed.

Now the people began to say among themselves, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has

arrived, and he is immune (from the influence of hostile orenda).” Then

he said to the assembly, “Now it is my turn to shoot. It is not certain

what will take place when I shoot. You will see what happens.” He

strung his bow, and all the people became quiet and attentive as they

watched him. Assuming a suitable position and taking aim, the young man

drew his arrow to the very point and then let it fly. Without a hitch,

the arrow struck fairly in the center of the bird’s body, causing the

bird to fall over on the opposite of the tree, whence, with wings

feebly flapping, it fell to the ground. At this the assembly broke out

in a loud shout of applause—so loud that one would think the sound

struck the heavens. The old woman came up on the run, anxiously asking,

“Who is he that has become my son-in-law?” All the people rushed

forward to the place where lay the bird with the arrow still sticking

in its body.

It so happened that one of the marksmen would run up and attempt to

withdraw the arrow, but would fail,[412] and then another, and then

another; but they all failed. Again Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, coming up, said,

“Who has become my son-in-law?” As the marksmen failed to withdraw the

arrow, she continued, “He who shall be able to withdraw the arrow shall

be my son-in-law.” Just then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ came up, saying, “All

stand back. This is my arrow.” The people drew back, and he walked up

to the bird and, as he walked along, he drew out the arrow. Then the

old woman said, “Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ has become my son-in-law,” and,

taking him by the arm, she led him back to her lodge. Then the people

dispersed in all directions. Then the old woman and her companion

reached her lodge, in one side of which was a sort of apartment

occupied by her daughter, who was born with a caul, and hence was

regarded as of noble birth. The epithet applied to such maidens and

young men is “down fended.” The old woman, leading the young man into

this apartment, said to her daughter, “This man has become my

son-in-law. He is called Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, and he is immune from

enchantment.”

The young man then took up his abode in his wife’s family. Hō! He

remained there for a long time. Then he said, “I shall go on a hunt,”

and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his three brothers-in-law, “Come with me

to hunt.” Having accepted his invitation, they started on their hunting

trip, but they had not gone very far when they were surprised by a

small herd of deer, which fled from them. Then the young bridegroom

said to his brothers-in-law, “Remain here, and I alone will pursue them

from place to place.” In a short time he shot at one and hit it, and it

fell. Then, following the remaining deer, he killed them one by one.

Thereupon he stopped, and hailing his brothers-in-law, said to them,

“Come hither, my brothers-in-law, and let us dress these deer.” So they

went to him and took part in the skinning of the deer. When they had

finished dressing the carcasses they began at once to pack the pelts

and the venison into suitable bundles in such manner as was customary

in the early time. When they were all ready they bore these bundles on

their backs by means of the forehead strap—the usual and the most

convenient method of carrying heavy burdens; and they started for their

home with Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ in the lead.

Having arrived at their lodge, they laid their packs of venison and

pelts at the feet of their mother, who wept for the great joy she had

in receiving so much venison, saying: “I am very thankful to my

son-in-law for this bounty, and on my part I will fulfill my duty in

providing the feast of the ‘eat-all-up,’ [413] which shall take place

tomorrow.” So the next morning they put the kettles over the fire in

the early dawn, and the daughters set to work industriously to prepare

food for the approaching feast. Suddenly the old woman,

Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, went out of the lodge and ran through the village,

saying to the people: “The feast of eat-all-up is to be held at my

lodge. Let all go directly to the place whence I have come, and start

at once.” This she said as she went through the village, and then she

returned to her own home. Then her daughters and sons removed the

kettles from the fire; and they placed the corn-meal mush and the

venison, cooked in pieces, in bark trays and bowls which they had ready

to receive the prepared food.

Now people began to arrive, and they sat down and became very quiet. At

this time the old woman, the mother of the daughters of the lodge,

Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ said, addressing the assembly: “Now, you who have come

here this day know that the usual custom for a feast of this kind shall

be followed. You who have come in by invitation shall first eat your

shares of the food; and it was for this reason that I desired a feast

of eat-all-up as my thanks offering; and when you have finished eating,

then my children and I will eat. For such is the custom when one

marries. Now, then, you must eat. You must eat up all that is

apportioned to you, for this is the reason that this feast is called

the feast of eat-all-up.”

Thereupon the neighbors began to eat. They ate during the entire day;

they ate the venison; they enjoyed also the corn-meal mush; and they

kept saying as they ate, “I am thankful for this food,” each as he felt

satisfied. Thus in time they fulfilled the rites of the feast of

eat-up-all, which is usually given when one is married; they ate up all

that had been prepared for them—a good omen for the newly married

couple. Then each went his way home. But there was one matter which was

postponed until the next day.

The day after the feast of eat-all-up there took place what Oñgweʻ

Hañgesʹʻhäʼ had said would come to pass. He had said, “I crave a smoke,

and so very early tomorrow morning you, my mother-in-law, must again go

around and invite your neighbors, telling them as you go from place to

place that your son-in-law is about to take a smoke, and that he will

then disgorge wampum beads.” Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, the mother-in-law,

replied with joy, “So let it come to pass,” and she went forth again to

issue invitations to her neighbors, represented by small sticks,

saying: “I extend to you hereby an invitation to come to my lodge. My

son-in-law, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, is going to smoke, and he will then

disgorge wampum beads.” So saying, she visited all her neighbors, and

then she returned to her own home.

Having reached home, she said to her son-in-law, “In a short time the

people will have assembled here.” Shortly after, the people began to

come. They seated themselves in the lodge and became very quiet. Then

the old woman, Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʻ, placing a bench or block of wood in

the center of the room, called to her son-in-law, “Oh, my son-in-law,

Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ, come hither.” At this he came forth from the place

wherein the “noble” or “down-fended” maiden lived. Seating himself on

the block provided by his mother-in-law, he threw over his knee the

entire skin of a woman,[414] which still had the head affixed to it;

the eyes winked and moved from side to side. Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ took

from his pouch his pipe and filled it with tobacco. The tobacco which

he used was a mixture of native tobacco, hemlock gum, spicebush bark,

and red willow bark.414a When he placed it in his pipe this mixture

emitted a very pleasant odor.

Then Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his mother-in-law, “You must spread out

here a tanned buckskin.” So she hastened to obey his instructions and

spread a buckskin on the ground in front of him and between his feet as

he sat on the block of wood. In explanation of what he was about to do,

he said: “Oh, my mother-in-law, all the wampum that shall fall on this

buckskin shall belong to you; but the wampum that shall fall away from

this skin shall be for prizes to those of the assembly who may be able

to seize it, for all will struggle to obtain some. This will take place

twice, for I will draw into me the smoke several times. The first time

that I draw in the smoke I will disgorge black wampum beads; but the

second time I will disgorge white wampum beads. So the people may

strive to obtain some of the beads which fall away from the buckskin.

This is what will take place.” After a moment’s deliberation he said to

the woman’s skin, “Do thou, my human skin, light my pipe; the fire is

yonder.” Thereupon the woman’s skin brought a coal from the fire and

placed it in his pipe while he held it in his mouth. Then he drew in

the smoke with the sound huʻkt, and then he disgorged, saying Hwuʹʼw;

and the beads in falling made the sound dāʹ. His mother-in-law took up

a large quantity of the beads from the buckskin. But for those beads

which fell away from the buckskin the people struggled among

themselves. In the strife the people created a great noise and uproar,

for everyone attempted to get all that he possibly could. He who was

quick was able, of course, to lay hold of the greatest quantity, and

the slowest could obtain but a few of these wampum beads. Oñgweʻ

Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said, “Now this time the wampum beads will be of a black

color.” His mother-in-law, as was the custom on such occasions, spread

another buckskin on the ground. Then he drew in the smoke a second time

and at once disgorged wampum beads which were entirely black in color;

some of these fell on the buckskin and some away from it. As before,

the people engaged in a lively contest for the beads which fell away

from the buckskin, thus creating a great uproar. He who was active

secured the most of the beads in these contests. Now Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ

said, “This affair is over entirely, and all people must return to

their homes.” At this all the people departed from the lodge of

Godwĕñniăʹʻdănĭʼ and went to their several homes.

Things remained thus for a long time and the couple lived quietly

together as husband and wife. One day Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his

mother-in-law: “I am now thinking that she who lives with me and I will

return to the place where my uncle, my mother’s brother, dwells. I do

not know whether or not he is still alive, and for this reason we two

will go back there. Now, my mother-in-law, I am going to tell you what

I am thinking. I am not certain in my mind that you would be willing

for me to suggest that you and my old uncle should mutually care for

each other. You two are fine-looking and are about the same in age and

bodily condition. How is it? Will you be willing to undertake this

condition?” To this the mother-in-law answered, “Oh, my son! indeed

your mind and thought suit me well. What you have suggested shall come

to pass as you have said, provided your uncle is still in good health

and alive when we shall arrive at the place where he lives. I will

accompany you two home, my daughters will remain here with my sons and

they will not want for anything.” So the next morning she was fully

prepared with food for the journey to the former home of her

son-in-law, and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his former companions on his

journey homeward, “Let us now return to my home; and we bid you

good-by.” So saying, he bade farewell to his brothers-in-law and

sisters-in-law.

Then they departed on their long journey, and the bridegroom took his

wife and his mother-in-law with him. They encamped on their way

homeward many times. As soon as they arrived near the lodge of the

young man’s uncle, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ said to his two companions: “Stop

here until I visit the lodge of my home to make a reconnoissance, for I

do not know whether my uncle is yet alive or not. I will return soon.”

Thereupon he started on the run to his home. Arriving there, he found

his uncle eating his midday meal. The old man quickly arose and seized

the young man, saying, “Now hast thou returned? Is it thou, my nephew?

Art thou Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ?” The nephew replied, “I it is, Uncle.”

“Where is my daughter-in-law?” asked the old man. The nephew answered,

“Oh, my uncle! she and another halted at a place not far from here,

while I came here to make a reconnoissance to learn whether you were

still alive or not. I am married in fact, and what is more than this, I

have brought with me my mother-in-law. They two are very fine-looking

women. I have thought very seriously of your age and also of the age of

my mother-in-law, and you two seem suitable in this respect one for the

other. I have already told her that I have thought well of having you

two abide together as husband and wife. Oh, my uncle! I have now said

to you what I intended to say. My mother-in-law is very thankful to me

for my kindness in this matter and for my desire to make you and her

happy and contented. Thus have I thought about this matter. Now will

you agree to what I have proposed for your welfare?” Greatly pleased,

the uncle exclaimed, “Oh, my nephew! how thankful I am for your kind

effort in my behalf. Let me dress myself, and you may now bring the

woman.” Delighted with the reception his uncle gave the marital

proposal, Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ ran back to the place where the two women

were anxiously awaiting his return. On arriving there, he exclaimed:

“He lives! He lives and is in the best of health. He is eating. Let us

go to him.” Thereupon they started for the lodge.

When they reached there they found the old man dressed and ready to

receive them. As they entered the lodge the old man, tapping his couch

several times, said gently to the mother-in-law, “Here you may abide.”

She came forward and took her seat beside him, and Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ

and his wife seated themselves opposite, putting the fireplace between

them as was the custom for families to do in the ancient time. Then the

old man said to his nephew: “I am indeed thankful that you have been

able to overcome difficulties of all kinds along your path to and fro.

You have heroically braved all. Now, you must hunt, and mother and

daughter shall live in contentment and peace.”

So Oñgweʻ Hañgesʹʻhäʼ spent his time in hunting. Day after day he

hunted. He knew well what animals to kill. Thus it came to pass in the

ancient time that they dwelt together in peace and harmony and great

contentment.

This is the end of the tale.

110. GAJIHSONDIS, THE AMULET-HITTER [415]

(A LEGEND OF THE CONTROL OF THE GAME ANIMALS)

An old man and his grandson, who was very small, lived together in a

lodge for a long time, during which they occupied opposite sides of the

fire, as was customary among their people. The little grandson played

by himself on his side of the fire, rolling about in the dust and

ashes. The old man was quite anxious at times about the future of the

boy.

There came a time when the old man saw the child sitting about in

different places on his side of the fire. Finally the child was

surprised to hear the old man say in no kindly voice: “You will become

a pitiable object if you continue in this way, for you are very small.

It is necessary that you should do something to help yourself and

provide yourself what you may need. A bow and arrows are perhaps the

first of your needs.” So saying, the old man started making these for

the boy, and when he had completed this task he went over to the place

where the child was rolling about in the dust. Taking him in his arms,

he said, “You must use these in this way,” and then standing the child

on the ground, he said, “You must learn to shoot with these.” Then,

grasping one of the hands of the child, the grandfather placed it on

the bow in the usual position for shooting; then in the other hand he

placed an arrow, at the same time instructing the child how to fit the

two together in proper positions for shooting. Then the old man himself

drew the bowstring, telling the little grandson, “This is the way you

must ordinarily do.” In this manner he instructed his grandson in the

art of shooting with a bow and arrow, and the child was not long in

learning how to do it. Again he told him: “That is the way you must

continue to do it.”

Afterward the old man drew forth his bundle of trinkets and treasures,

and taking therefrom the foot of a raccoon he fastened it to a staff,

which he set upright a long distance away, saying to his grandson: “You

must shoot at this continually, and whenever you hit it you must say

‘Gajihsondis.’ This you must say, and I shall then learn what a good

shot you are.” Now the child did indeed follow his grandfather’s

instructions.

Finally the time came when the old man said to his grandson: “I will

now free you from my tutelage and now you must depend on yourself. No

matter where you may be you must keep saying ‘Gajihsondis’ whenever you

may hit any object—even this foot of the raccoon.” Therefore the old

man paid no more attention to the welfare of his grandson. The latter

ran around at pleasure for a long time. At last he asked his

grandfather this question: “My grandfather, where are our kinsmen?” In

answering him the old man told his grandson a number of things.

Pointing off a long distance he replied: “They have gone far away to a

place where lives a great beast. It is impossible for anyone to reach

this place in seven years.” Without replying the youth kept on playing,

as was his custom. Some time after while at play he arose and, going to

his old grandfather, asked “What is the exact direction of that place

whither our kinsmen have gone?” Going out of the lodge and standing

beside the doorway the old man pointed far away straight toward the

place where their relations had gone. He said: “There in that distant

place is a spring of water in which lives the great beast, and in that

place all our former kinsfolk perished.”

The youth answered, “Now, my grandfather, I will go to that place.”

Very early the next morning, it is said, the youth, taking his bow and

arrows, started on his long journey, saying, “Oh, my grandfather! I

start now.” After a while the old man went out of the lodge, and,

standing beside the doorway, said, “Kuʹ; he is indeed going a very long

way off. It may be that he will be able to go there.” With these words

the old man reentered the lodge.

How now with regard to the youth? Starting at a slow running gait,

finally he reached a place which his grandfather had indicated to him,

and after going over a mountain which was on his way he came to a lake,

in the middle of which he was surprised to see floating about a white

waterfowl. Taking aim, the youth at once shot at this strange fowl; the

shot went so true that the fowl merely fell on its side dead. Pulling

hairs from his head, the youth spliced them together until he had

produced a cord sufficiently long for his purpose. This he cast out on

the lake, and by this means was enabled to draw the body of the

waterfowl to shore. At once he rushed up to the body and fell upon it.

Soon he had prepared it so it could be borne on his back by means of

the forehead strap. Then the youth started for home, and when he

arrived at his grandfather’s lodge he said, “There now. I bring a very

large animal.”

After looking at the body, his grandfather said, in reply: “Oh! this is

not the right thing on which to be avenged.” The youth answered, “So be

it, then. I will take it back to its home, as it seems proper to do.”

Having packed the body by means of the forehead strap, he started for

the place whence he had brought the great animal. On arriving at the

shore of the lake he cast the animal down on the ground, saying, “As to

you, I shall leave you here, and, furthermore, you must come to life

again.” Then, starting for home, the youth was not long in reaching the

lodge of his grandfather, to whom he said: “I have now released the

animal.” He did not delay in resuming his sports around the lodge, and

continued them for a time.

One day when weary with playing he went up to his old grandfather, with

the words, “Come now, just tell me the exact direction to take to go to

the lair of the great animal of which you have told me such awful

things.” The old man replied, “So be it.” Going out of the lodge he

stood there. As soon as he had taken a suitable position he said to the

youth: “Here it is; it is just here. As soon as you start and have gone

quite a distance, then verily you will see that this pathway has the

habit of shrinking back.[416] This will be taking place continually,

and this is the reason that it will require seven years to reach the

place where is the spring which you are seeking. This path is one, too,

of great danger and difficulty, for in that place dwell female beings

which feed on human flesh, and it is they who devoured all the kinsfolk

we had.”

After hearing this and following with his eyes the direction shown by

his old grandfather, the youth started. After the lapse of some time

the old man again said, “Let me see where he is.” Going out of the

lodge, he stood looking around for his grandson, whom he finally saw

disappearing in the distance. He mused with himself, saying: “It is

certain, I believe, that he will be able to accomplish the feat of

reaching the place where are the pitfalls set by the eaters of human

flesh.”

When the youth arrived at the spring, he was indeed very thirsty. At

once he decided to inspect the place in order to see how true was the

saying of his grandfather that there lived in the spring a number of

female beings (women?) possessed of great orenda (magic power).

Thereupon the youth deliberately put his feet into the water. As soon

as he did so the hideous being covered with scales quickly darted

forward and snapped off his leg far above the knee. The youth merely

laughed, saying, Hăʻhăʻ, and wondered what would happen if he placed

his other leg in the water. On doing so, the being at once snapped off

this leg also; but the youth merely laughed and said nothing. Finally

he said, “Let it be so. Now perhaps I will fish with a line.” This he

proceeded to do. For the purpose of carrying out his design he removed

portions of flesh from his thighs, which he fastened on his hook. Just

as soon as he cast the hook into the water the great being seized it,

whereupon the youth pulled his adversary out of the water and cast its

body aside. It is said that now the great being began to whimper, “My

grandson, put me back into the water again.” But the youth, paying no

attention to what it was asking him to do, again baited his hook and

cast it into the waters. At once it was seized in the mouth of another

one of the great wizard beings, which appeared in assumed shapes, and

immediately the youth began to pull on his line, soon landing another

of his adversaries. This, too, like the other, began to whimper,

saying, “My grandson, will you please put me back into the water?” The

youth replied: “I have no legs. You have broken off my legs.” At this

the two beings came forward and began to work on his body. And the

youth said to them in turn: “Do you two reset my legs. You see that I

can not do it myself.” So the two beings, which were possessed of great

orenda, obeying his instructions, put back his legs. Next the youth

kindled a great fire, and just as soon as this was burning fiercely,

seizing the hair of the male being, he cast him into the flames, and he

did likewise with the body of the female being. When the bodies were

consumed the heads of these beings exploded and out of them flew

owls.[417]

Continuing a short distance, the youth found the lair of panthers which

were fierce in aspect, for they were fighting. Raising his bow and

arrow, he said to them, “Stop your anger, you two, for the place where

you are belongs to me.”

Going on a short distance farther, he found a number of elk fighting in

their turn. He said to them also, “Stop fighting, you two;” and they

did stop fighting and separated. The youth told them, too, “This region

belongs to me.”

Then there arose a great tumult and noise among the animals of all

kinds. The youth saw there what seemed to be a long lodge, on the top

of which owls were seated; these, too, were making outcries, saying

“Hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ, hiʻ. Awake! a male human being is coming.” The

youth now watched them, and he was surprised to find there lying down

the body of some one who much resembled his grandfather, and he saw

also everything that was inside the lodge. Among the things he saw was

a kettle of corn mush, which was boiling over the fire. “I have found

something which is perhaps good to the taste.”

Entering the lodge, he went to the farther side of the fire, whereupon

from the opposite side of the fire a white deer came forth and entered

the bosom of the old man. At this the youth started out of the lodge,

and at once everything in the lodge began to leave. The breechclout of

the old man went out, and the boiling mush, too, started out. The youth

had gone a long distance before the old man awoke, exclaiming, “Pshaw!

I think that he still has a grandson, that old man.” Straightening

himself up, he said: “So let it be. I now believe that I also will

start.”

Then the old man took his club from its usual resting place, the one

with which he was accustomed to fight, and pursuing the youth, soon

overtook him, as was to be expected. Addressing the youth, he said,

“For what reason did you rob me as you have done?” So saying, he struck

the youth a heavy blow, causing the young man to fall over in an

unconscious condition; and he lay where he fell.

Thereupon the old man turned back homeward, and all the things that had

started out also returned homeward. As he walked along the old man

restored the body of the great beast and all other things which had

been disturbed by the youth during his visit to him.

Meanwhile the youth regained consciousness, and, realizing his

condition, exclaimed, “Wŭʻʹ, my head does certainly pain me; I believe

that the old man has really killed me. So let it be. I think I will go

back, perhaps, to the lodge of the old man.” When he reached the lodge,

ho-wŭʻ, the owls were making a great outcry: “Awake you! Now, indeed,

the male human being is again coming.” At this the youth exclaimed, “Do

you keep quiet! these things, here.” Entering again the lodge by

stealth, he saw there the war club resting in its place, the club with

which the old man did his fighting; it was full of nicks from hard

usage in combat. Thereupon the youth said, “Keep thyself still; and

indeed, you must give me assistance at this time. We will awaken the

old man to his death.” Again entering the lodge, the youth went to the

back part of the lodge, where he took a seat. Again the very small

white deer came forth and entered his bosom. Then he arose and stood

there, and all the things on the inside of the lodge started to follow

him out of it. Even the breechclout of the old man he took from him.

The youth had gone a long distance before the old man again awoke.

Realizing what had taken place, the latter exclaimed, “Gwăʻʹ. He is

alive again, I believe. Now, indeed, he shall suffer for this. I will

do him harm in many places.” Then the old man started, after which he

exclaimed, “Kwŭʻʹ! I have forgotten that, I have not painted my face,

as is the custom, for I believe that I shall have to fight with one who

is, it seems, a brave man, this youth.” Having poured dead coals into a

basket, he carried them to a mortar standing near by, in which he began

to pound the charred coals. He made a great noise in doing this, the

blows with the pestle sounding “dum, dum, dum.” This action of the old

man caused the youth to grow weak and faint as he walked along.

When the old man had finished pounding the coals he painted his face.

Then he started in pursuit of the youth, saying, “I am following you.”

The old man finally overtook the youth, whereupon he said to him, “Look

here, my grandson! I am going to kill you.” The youth replied, “So let

it be,” at the same time striking the old man a blow with the war club.

Then they fought, and being evenly matched, the struggle was fierce.

Thus the battle went on for some time until at last the youth succeeded

in killing his grandfather. Then he started for home, followed by all

the things that were in the lodge of the old man.

The youth did not realize the time it took him to arrive at the lodge

of his living grandfather, who exclaimed: “You certainly have brought

back home our great beast. How did you accomplish it? Was the old man

willing for you to bring it home? Was he willing, too, for you to take

all the things which you have brought back with you?” The youth

replied, “I killed the old wizard.” At this his grandfather began to

weep, saying, “Now, indeed, you have killed him who, when living, was

my brother.” Without making any reply, the youth prepared to lie down

for the night. The two occupied the same side of the fire.

As soon as the youth fell asleep, the old man, his grandfather, arose

and, addressing the sleeping youth, said, “I suppose that I must now

kill you, wicked man, in your turn.” Taking up his bow and three arrows

and, going over to the opposite side of the fire, he shot three arrows

into the back of the youth, his grandson, who was asleep. Then the old

man returned to his bed and laid himself down again. Some time after

this the youth awoke and said, “Kwŭʻʹ! indeed my back does give me much

pain.” On examining it with his hands, he was surprised to find three

arrows sticking in it. At this discovery he exclaimed, “Gūʻ! now, I

suppose, I must depart from this place, for it seems that my

grandfather has killed me. So be it then. I will now go far away.” He

started at once on his journey, and all the things which he had taken

from his dead grandfather went with him—his grandfather’s breechclout

and also the mush—these all went along. As soon as the old man saw that

these things started to leave, he began to weep. So the youth left his

grandfather.

When the youth had gone a long distance from his home, he was surprised

to find a village of people. Leaving his slaves and domestics near the

village, he went to the first lodge, where he visited. He found in this

lodge a young man who resembled himself very closely in age, size, and

manners. It was soon customary for them to go around together. It is

said that they two kept company with each other wherever they went.

Finally the youth from the village said, “Kūʻ, game is indeed very

scarce. Where may be the game animals? Perhaps they have gone far away

to seek subsistence. Possibly they have gone to the place where dwells

the great beast.” In reply, the visiting youth said to his friend, “I

am, it is known, called the great beast.” The other youth answered,

“Aā, it is true. So be it. I will now show you where abide my domestic

(game) animals.”

Then the two youths departed from the place and at last came to the

spot where dwelt the great beast, the prototype of all others.

The youth from the village now said to his friend: “I will now give up

all the animals over which I have control, that they may go over the

whole earth and dwell in freedom; that they may increase and multiply

at their will and go and come as seems good to them. Then the noises

made by all the animals became great in the world.

This is the story.

111. THE LEGEND OF HONENHINEH AND HIS YOUNGER BROTHERS

In times long past Honenhineh and his younger brothers dwelt in a lodge

together; the lodge was constructed of bark and was very long,

according to the custom of the country. There were three fires

occupying the place provided for fire along the midway of the lodge.

These brothers dwelt thus together for a long time in this long lodge.

It was their custom to go out into the forests daily to hunt game

animals, and every evening those who had gone out that day to hunt

returned, bearing each his burden of venison or other flesh, which

would be cast down in the middle of the floor space of the lodge. It

was usually dressed when packed for carrying; this was done for

convenience. Then one of the brothers who had not been out hunting

would unpack the bundle and proceed at once to cut up the meats and to

hang them up for drying all along the sides of the lodge. This was the

daily routine of these hunters of the lodge of Honenhineh. Thus they

traveled much in many places in the forests.

At times, when all but the youngest brother, who was still very small,

started out to hunt, one of the elder brothers would produce the foot

of a raccoon, and throwing it to the end of the lodge, he would say to

the youngest brother, “Here! This is something with which you can amuse

yourself.” Then, when he would be ready to start he would scatter ashes

around the doorway in such manner that no person or thing could enter

the lodge without leaving tell-tale tracks to betray the intruder.

Afterward he would say to the small boy, “Oh, youngest brother! You

must not leave the lodge; you must not go outside of it.” So it was

that this youngest brother never went outside of the lodge and did not

know what the light of outdoors was like. The name of this boy was

Little Burnt Belly.[418] The youngster amused himself daily by tossing

up the raccoon’s foot and shooting at it while it was in the air. It is

said that he never missed the foot, for he had become an expert bowman

from his daily practice. So the days went by for some time.

Then there came a day when the Honenhineh returned from hunting without

bringing back anything in the way of game, but the other brothers

returned, bringing large packs of venison and other meats and furs and

skins. As each brother returned he saw the eldest brother Honenhineh

lying on his couch in silence, but not one of them paid any further

attention to him, for they had returned with heavy packs while he had

brought back nothing. Remaining thus for some time, Honenhineh finally

arose and unpacked the packs of his brothers and hung up the quarters

of venison and bear’s meat and the flesh of other animals to dry, and

he hung up also the skins and furs properly prepared to dry—some to be

made into buckskin and others into furs for robes and other useful

articles.

This state of affairs in the lodge continued for many days and nights,

and Honenhineh continued to fast rigorously. At last one evening one of

his younger brothers said to him, “Oh, elder brother! you should take

some food.” But Honenhineh replied: “No, I will not do so now. Do you

help yourselves and take what food you may need. In a short time I

myself shall take some food. There has come a change in the manner of

my life. The land over which I hunted has become deserted of all life.

Tomorrow I shall start from here, going in a northerly direction this

time.”

So, without breaking his fast, Honenhineh lay down on his couch and his

brothers retired for the night. But late at night Honenhineh arose and,

going to the fire, he gathered together the embers and firebrands to

stir up the flames, close beside which, it is said, lay Little Burnt

Belly. Honenhineh having stirred up the fire, the rising flames caused

many sparks to fall on the uncovered legs of Little Burnt Belly, who

passively bore the pain. The elder brother, after watching the effect

of the sparks, finally said, “Oh! my younger brother is very sleepy.”

But in this he was deceived, for his younger brother, having made a

small aperture in the skin with which he was covered, was watching all

that he was doing. It is said that the skin was that of an old

she-bear. Thus deceived, the elder brother prepared some food for

himself and ate what he wanted of it. While watching him the youngest

brother fell asleep. In the morning the youngest brother arose after

his brothers had gone out on their hunting trips, and was very

anxiously watching for the proposed departure of his brother Honenhineh

after his long fast. When he had made all his preparations he said to

his youngest brother, “Now I have started,” adding, “Do not, my

brother, go outside of this lodge.” Then, taking out of his pouch

suddenly a bear’s foot and casting it into the middle of the lodge, he

said, “Here! Thou shalt amuse thyself with this object by using it as a

target continuously.” On going out of the lodge, he scattered ashes all

about the entrance so that nothing could enter without disturbing the

ashes and so showing what it was that entered the lodge. On starting

away, he said to his youngest brother, “For this journey I am going

toward the north to hunt.” So saying, he departed from the lodge.

Honenhineh kept on his northward course for a long time. When the day

was past the meridian, on looking ahead he saw what appeared to him a

number of clearings. When he emerged from the forest into these

clearings he stopped and looked around; then he walked along slowly for

some time.

Ahead of him a great deep gorge or valley yawned.

Scarcely had he taken a good look at this gorge when he heard in the

distance an ominous tapping on a tree and the voice of a man singing:

“It is a fortunate thing for me. A human being is walking along on the

farther side of the valley.” Somewhat surprised, Honenhineh exclaimed:

“Wūʼʹ! A man has discovered me. I suppose that he has treed a bear.

Well, so be it; I will go thither.” So saying, he started down into the

valley on a brisk run. As he ran along he came to a ridge, or shelf,

leading into the valley, and he was startled by seeing pieces of bark

fall all about him several times. Stopping and raising his head to look

up into a tree standing in front of him, he saw a flicker, or

yellowhammer, clinging to the tree trunk far above the ground, looking

at him. As he looked at the flicker it began to smile at him and

audibly said, “He who has the bow is well known to be a fairly bad

shot,” and continued to smile at him. Honenhineh at once strung his bow

and shot an arrow at this smiling yellowhammer, but the arrow flew wide

of the mark, sticking harmlessly into the tree trunk. He shot all his

arrows away in this manner without disconcerting the yellowhammer in

any way.

Withdrawing a short distance, Honenhineh broke his bow and threw away

the pieces. Then he said: “So be it. Let me pass on in my way yonder.”

He continued onward until he reached the bottom of the valley, when he

stopped to look around; ahead of him he saw a lodge out of which arose

smoke. He resolved at once to go up to the lodge and started toward it.

Going along slowly, he finally reached the side of the lodge, where he

stood still. But he had not come to a halt before he heard from within

the lodge the voice of a man saying to him: “My grandson, thou hast

visited my lodge; so come in.” Honenhineh, at once obeying the summons,

entered the lodge.

On looking around, he saw before him a young maiden seated, who was

engaged in weaving a pack strap from the strands of slippery-elm bark

prepared for this purpose. The man of the lodge said to the maiden, “Do

thou make room on thy mat for the man who has entered our lodge, for

you and he do now become husband and wife.” Complying with this

request, the young maiden made room on her mat for Honenhineh to sit

beside her.

Then the elderly man said to her, “My granddaughter, prepare some food

and set it before him who has entered our lodge, for he is probably

hungry. With dried green corn as it cooks in the pot you must mix dried

venison pounded fine, and into this mixture you must put a sufficient

quantity of maple sugar and a quantity of bear’s grease or fat, to make

the whole savory and appetizing.” The old man’s granddaughter at once

obeyed, and after kindling the fire to make it burn briskly, she set a

pot of water over it containing a quantity of dried sweet green corn.

Bringing maple sugar from her store in a bark case, she put it into the

pot with the corn. Then, procuring the dried venison and the bear’s

grease, having pounded them fine, she put these ingredients also in the

pot to cook with the other things. When she found that the corn soup

was cooked she removed the pot from the fire and set it aside to permit

the contents to cool. When it was sufficiently cooled the young maiden,

taking up a portion of the soup with a ladle, placed it in a bark bowl

and, setting it before Honenhineh, said to him, “Take this and eat it.

I have prepared it for you.” Honenhineh, being quite hungry, willingly

ate what was set before him.

It was not long after Honenhineh had finished eating that night came.

Before the evening was far advanced the old man said, “Let us now

retire for the night. Our guest has come here tired out in all

probability, for he has traveled a long distance.” So they lay down for

the night. Then the old man said, “My granddaughter, let me tell my

story,” and he began to sing, “It is said that there were eight

brothers who lived in a lodge.” This was the topic of the story which

he chanted three times.

After waiting a few moments he said in a stage whisper to the sleeping

visitor, “My grandson, are you listening to my story?” The only reply

he received was the loud snoring of the guest. Presently the old man

exclaimed, “The game animals are just toying with me. Why, one has even

come into my lodge (to show its contempt for me).” So saying, the old

man arose and took down his war club from its resting place, and

approaching the sleeping visitor, he killed him with blows on the head.

Then, replacing his club, he got out a huge clay pot, which he set over

the fire after placing some water in it. Next he quartered the body of

his victim and placed all the pieces in the pot to cook. While engaged

in this gruesome work he kept saying, “I still can deal with the game

animals which visit my lodge in my approved way, and so I am still able

to eat the flesh of the most rare game animals.”

In the meantime, when night came on the lodge of Honenhineh and his

younger brothers, the brothers returned one by one until all were there

except the eldest, Honenhineh, who of course did not return. His

absence was duly noted. The brother next in age said, “I met him just

this side of the Great Valley.” The following morning the brother next

in age to Honenhineh started out on his brother’s trail to seek for

him. He had gone along for some time when he was surprised to find the

tracks of his brother, which he at once followed. Before long he saw

ahead of him light through the trees from clearings in the forest, and

he found also indisputable evidence that his brother had stood there.

So he started forward slowly and finally came to the top of a hill

overlooking the Great Valley, where he stood still for a moment. While

standing there he heard the sound of a blow struck by a war club on the

opposite side of the valley, and he heard the voice of a man singing,

“I am indeed fortunate, for on the opposite side of the valley a human

being walks along.” After thinking a few moments, he exclaimed: “Pshaw!

This is all right. There is where my elder brother is moving about from

place to place. Perhaps he has treed some animal or has found an animal

in its lair. It must be a bear, I think. So be it; I shall go thither.”

In pursuance of his resolution, he resumed his brother’s trail and

descended into the valley until he came to a bench, or terrace, where

he stopped for a moment. Here he was surprised to see pieces of bark

fall several times around him. Looking up into a tree near by, he saw

clinging to the trunk far above the ground a small flicker, or

yellowhammer. The bird smiled at him, exclaiming, “He has a bow in his

hand just as if he could use it, for it is well known that he is quite

a poor marksman.” At this the young man at once strung his bow and shot

an arrow at the bird, whereupon he was surprised to see the arrows of

his brother stuck in the tree. His first shot missed the bird, as did

all the others. When all his arrows had been shot away, stuck fast in

the tree top, he broke his bow and cast it away. Now, he was greatly

surprised to see the pieces of his bow fall beside those of his

brother’s bow. While he was shooting at the bird, it merely smiled and

said, “It is curious that one who is a poor marksman generally goes

about with a bow and arrows,” and it was only when he had lost all his

arrows that he drew aside in disgust and destroyed his bow as a token

that he did not care about what had happened to him. After casting away

his bow the young man exclaimed: “Pshaw! I will go on farther, for I

now hear my brother singing in the distance,” for he heard the voice of

a man singing on the opposite side of the Great Valley.

Starting on a run down into the valley, he had not gone far before he

saw ahead of him a field. When he reached the border of this he stood

there a moment, but seeing in the distance a lodge and smoke issuing

from it, he exclaimed: “So be it. Let me go to that lodge to see what I

may find. My elder brother has gone there.”

When he reached the lodge the young man came to a halt, but he had no

sooner done so than he heard the voice of a man inside say to him: “Oh,

my grandson! come in; you have visited my lodge at this time.”

Accepting this challenge, the young man entered, whereupon the old man

said to him: “I am thankful that you have now paid our (two) lodge a

visit.” In front of him the young man saw a young maiden seated on a

couch, weaving a forehead pack strap from slippery-elm-bark fiber. Then

the old man said to her: “Make room on your mat for our visitor, for

you and he are to become husband and wife. I am so delighted by this

visit, for we two are to be pitied, living alone in this lodge, I and

my granddaughter.” Obeying her grandfather, the young maiden made room

on her mat for the young man. Next the old man said to the young man:

“You have come here looking for your elder brother, Honenhineh. He

passed here. Yonder, not far away, stands another lodge. There is where

your brother has gone; he will return soon, I think.” Turning to his

granddaughter, the old man said: “Oh, granddaughter! prepare food for

our visitor; he is perhaps hungry, having come a long distance. You

must pound up dried green sweet corn and dried venison, and place these

in a pot to cook, to make corn soup; and you must put into the pot also

maple sugar and bear’s grease. When the soup is cooked, place a bowlful

before our visitor and let him eat his fill.”

The maiden set to work preparing the corn soup, as she had been

instructed to do. First she pounded up dried sweet green corn and then

dried venison. Then, having placed a large clay pot over the fire with

water in it, she put in the dried corn and venison, which soon began to

cook. Presently she added maple sugar to her soup. While these were

cooking, the old man got for her some bear’s grease, which he brought

to her in a bowl, saying: “Oh, granddaughter, put this also in the pot

of soup.” When the soup was cooked, the maiden removed the pot from the

fire and the contents were then placed in bark bowls to cool. When

ready, the young woman placed a large bowl of the soup before the young

man, telling him to eat his fill. When he had eaten what was set before

him he thanked the old man, his “grandfather,” who acknowledged the

compliment by saying, “My grandson, you were to be pitied, for you were

very hungry when you visited my lodge.”

It was not long after this that night came. Before night had fully

settled down the old man said: “Let us retire to sleep. Our visitor has

come to us very tired, I suppose. You should prepare a separate couch

of bark. I am very anxious concerning the probable return of his elder

brother tonight. At all events, I suppose he will probably return by

tomorrow.” Having said this, the old man lay down, saying to the young

man and the young woman: “Do ye two retire to sleep. I my own little

self am asleep” (i.e., lying down to sleep).

After they had all retired for the night the old man said aloud, “Let

me tell a tale,” and thereupon he began to sing, “They (masc.) have a

lodge as a home, it is said; they are eight in number; they are lost

(devoted to destruction).” He sang this song through three times. Now

the young man began to snore loudly, for he had fallen sound asleep. In

a short time the old man arose, and carefully readjusting his robe,

said: “I am greatly perturbed in my mind. A game animal has come into

my lodge on a visit.” Then taking down his war club and approaching his

sleeping guest, he killed him by blows on the head.

Going to a corner of the lodge, he obtained there a great clay pot and,

after putting water in it, he set it over the fire. Having quartered

the body of his victim, he put it into the pot to cook. While he was

engaged in this gruesome work he kept saying, “There is still no lack

of power to do things in my manner of living, for I have no trouble to

live. Game animals habitually come to my lodge.” So spake the old man,

who was then cooking the entire body of a human being, and was happy.

(It is said that he gave to his granddaughter the flesh of leeches to

eat and putrid things also. She was not aware of what she was eating,

for he had hypnotized her to think these things were proper and good.

This granddaughter was a prisoner whom he had taken in one of his

raids. But he himself ate human flesh in his lodge, and in order to

satisfy his unnatural appetite he was engaged in killing people from

all the neighboring settlements; this conduct agitated the entire

country around.[419])

In the meanwhile the brothers of Honenhineh, it is said, were not very

much surprised when night came and the next younger brother had not

returned, for they suspected some harm had befallen both their missing

brothers. Then the eldest of the remaining brothers said, “Well, it is

now for me to go to find my brothers who have not returned from the

north.” So in the morning when they had eaten their morning meal he

started out alone on the northward trail to seek for his missing

brothers. After having gone some distance from the lodge he found the

tracks of the eldest of the two brothers and followed their lead.

While running along he suddenly saw ahead of him the light in the

forest from clearings near by. Keeping on his course, he finally came

to a large clearing or field, where he stopped to look around, because

the tracks of his two brothers led him to this point. While examining

the country he saw in the distance the Great Valley, and as the trail

led thither he followed it until he came to the brink of the valley,

where he stopped again to view the country around. At this point he

heard a sound coming from the farther side of the valley, made by the

blows of a club on a dead tree, and also the voice of a man who sang:

“I am indeed lucky. On the opposite side of the valley there is a human

being going along.” This song was repeated by the unknown singer.

Thereupon the younger brother of Honenhineh said to himself: “It is

strange that my two brothers have not given notice of this thing. It

indeed seems certain that they have chased a bear to its lair; let me,

then, go thither.”

So the young man started on a run down the slope leading into the

valley along the trail made by his two brothers. Having run some

distance, he suddenly noticed pieces of bark falling around him. At

this he came to a halt and, looking up into a tree which stood near,

saw high up on the trunk a small bird, a flicker or yellowhammer, now

clinging to the tree trunk, and now flitting from place to place. As he

raised his eyes to it the flicker, smiling, said, “He carries a bow and

arrows pretentiously (as if he knew how to use them), although he is

notoriously a very bad marksman.” Quickly stringing his bow the young

man said to his tormentor, “Do not say anything more.” But the flicker

only laughed, saying, “There is nowhere on this whole earth among the

inhabitants a person living who has the ability to kill me.” The young

man replied, “Be careful of thyself,” and he at once nocked his arrow.

The flicker became visibly agitated and kept glancing at the young man

furtively as it slowly crept around the tree trunk. Thereupon the young

man shot at it, and then he saw not far from the spot occupied by the

flicker the two shocks of arrows which belonged to his two brothers.

The aim of the young man and his orenda were such that the arrow hit

its mark, becoming fixed in the body of the flicker, which uttered a

loud wail of despair and fell to the ground.

The young man did not withdraw his arrow, but took it up with the

flicker’s body transfixed by it and placed it on his shoulder, thus to

carry his victim. In the meantime the flicker kept saying, “You should

let me go free again. I am doing nothing wrong.” But the young man

replied, “No. I will not let you go free. I desire to show you to my

two brothers.” With these words he resumed his journey.

He had not gone very far when he reached a clearing, at the border of

which he stopped to look around. He saw at some distance a lodge, out

of which smoke arose, whereupon he said, “I will go thither to the

lodge. My two elder brothers are certainly idling away their time, for

I believe that they are both there in that lodge.” He came to this

conclusion because he noticed that the tracks of his two brothers led

to the lodge. Having reached the side of the lodge, he came to a halt.

He had no sooner stopped walking than a man’s voice inside challenged

him, saying, “Come, my grandson. Thou hast come to visit me in my

lodge.” On entering, the youth was greatly surprised to see before him

a fine-looking young maiden, who was seated on her couch weaving a

forehead pack strap from the prepared fibers of slippery-elm bark. The

old man said to his young visitor: “It has been, indeed, a very, very

long time that I have been looking for you to pay me a visit. I have

been saying that a great hunter is on his way here. There sits my

granddaughter whom you are to marry. Granddaughter, move along on your

mat to give him room to sit beside you.” As the young man passed him

the old man noticed that he was carrying something that he had killed,

and he quickly arose, saying: “Give me the body that you are carrying.

That is indeed a very fine game animal which you have killed on your

way here.” The young man replied, “No. I will not give it up until I

first see my two brothers.” To this the old man rejoined, “They passed

here, and so they will return here, perhaps very soon.” Then, turning

to the young maiden, he added: “Prepare some food for him. He has come

here hungry, perhaps. You must procure a quantity of dried green sweet

corn, which you must pound in a mortar, and also dried venison, which

likewise must be pounded fine. Set a pot containing water over the

fire, and into this you must put the pounded corn and venison, adding a

quantity of maple sugar, dried huckleberries, and lastly bear’s

grease.”

The young woman hastened to prepare the corn soup in the manner in

which she had been instructed by her old “grandfather,” and it was not

long before the soup was cooked and ready to be eaten. At this time the

old man brought from an adjoining room a bowl of bear’s grease, which

he gave to the young woman, who put it into the pot of soup. Having

done this, she removed the pot from the fire and set it where the

contents would cool. Presently she placed a large bowlful before the

young man, who ate it with a good appetite, and he gave thanks to his

host for what he had eaten. Night coming on shortly after this, the

three persons began to get ready for retiring. At this time the old man

said to his guest, “You should give me the body of the bird which you

have brought with you. You will leave it with me to keep for you.” But

the youth replied, “I will not give it up to you.” To this the old man

answered, in a threatening manner, “I am greatly agitated in my mind.

Let us retire for the night. A game animal has indeed come into my

lodge. I am now an old man. Still there is nothing that curbs my orenda

(I am unaffected by any influence). I am bound to get back my own bird

at any cost.”

So saying, he arose and, going aside, he took down his war club. Then,

returning to the side of the young man, he said, “Do thou give up to me

the body of the bird which you have.” The answer came, “I will not give

it up to you.” The old man, now in a great rage, retorted: “You are

risking your life. You are about to die, and you can not escape from

it.” With these words he raised his war club, shouting, “Will you hand

me the bird, or not?” But the young man still replied, “No. I will not

give it up to you.” Then the old man struck the youth on the head with

the club and killed him. Thus he recovered the body of the bird and

gave back its life [420] (which was that of a female relation of the

old man).

These events gave great pleasure to the old man, who went around

saying: “There is nothing that yet affects my orenda; I am not

suffering in any manner; no one from any place can come here who is

able to treat me lightly.” So the old man was quite happy. Having

brought out his great clay pot, with water in it, he set it over the

fire, and after quartering the body of the young man, he placed it all

in the pot to cook. After a suitable time he remarked, “It is perhaps

cooked now.” He kept on looking into the pot from time to time to see

whether the flesh was done. As it seemed not to cook thoroughly, the

old man was greatly concerned about it, and continued saying, “There is

something wrong; otherwise it would be possible to cook this

thoroughly.” Finally, getting out of patience, the old man removed the

pot from the fire and ate the raw flesh.

Now, in the lodge of the brothers there was anxiety when night came and

none of the brothers who had gone northward had returned, and the five

remaining brothers were wondering what had befallen them. When those

who were left were back in their lodge Little Burnt Belly said, “Oh,

elder brother! you must go tomorrow to bring them back.” Then they

retired for the night and went to sleep. In the morning they arose and

all except Little Burnt Belly went to hunt, as usual. The latter seated

himself beside the fire and there he sat all day long without moving.

When evening came the two missing brothers had not returned, and the

hunting brothers came back empty handed, having killed nothing during

the day. They all saw Little Burnt Belly seated beside the fire, silent

and motionless.

The brothers retired for the night and slept soundly. When daylight

came and they arose they saw Little Burnt Belly still seated beside the

fire. He maintained the one position and said nothing to any of his

brothers. When they ate their breakfast he did not arise to have his

share. The other brothers then left the lodge to go out hunting for

game animals for food. After they had gone Little Burnt Belly arose,

saying, “Let me amuse my elder brothers.” Thereupon he then took down

his bow and arrows, and shot two arrows up out of the smoke-hole of the

lodge.

As the brothers were engaged in the chase at no great distance one from

another, they were greatly surprised to see a very large deer rush up

to them and fall dead at their feet, and soon another deer did

likewise. They saw that an arrow protruded from the body of each deer—a

circumstance which was very mysterious to them. As quickly as possible

one of the brothers rushed up to the stricken deer, and breaking off a

leaf, wrapped it around the arrow before touching it with his hand to

draw it forth, saying, “I do not desire to uncharm my youngest

brother’s arrow.” Then drawing out the arrow, he carefully laid it up

in the fork of a tree. Having done this he started at once for home,

carrying the whole body of the deer. Before it was dark Little Burnt

Belly saw his elder brother bringing back the deer. Not long afterward

the other brother came into the lodge bearing on his back the other

deer properly packed for carrying. The other two brothers returned with

them as guards.

They found Little Burnt Belly still seated before the fire. But when

they were back in the lodge he said to them, “Our missing brothers have

not yet returned home. Tomorrow I myself will go on their trail to seek

for them.” After eating their evening meal they retired for the night

and slept soundly. When morning came they prepared their usual

breakfast and then started out to hunt. Thereupon Little Burnt Belly

arose, and going to his couch procured such articles of apparel as he

needed for his journey. He took also his bow and arrows, which were his

immediate trust and dependence for accomplishing his task, for they

were full of orenda (magic power), which he could control for his own

use. He ate no breakfast; he needed none, for he desired to have all

his faculties clear and alert. While seated beside the fire he had been

taking suitable medicine to make him sound and clear visioned that he

might be able to cope with the wizard whom he suspected of having

destroyed his missing brothers.

Leaving the lodge, Little Burnt Belly shaped his course northward to

find the trail of his three brothers. It was not long before he struck

this, and he followed it on the run, presently entering a vast forest

whose great trees made it dark and gloomy. He had been running for a

large portion of the day when he saw daylight through the trees, from

which he inferred that there must be a clearing ahead of him. Keeping

his course, finally he came to the edge of a large clearing or field.

As he saw the tracks of his brothers there, he stopped to look around.

Immediately he heard a peculiar sound of tapping, and looking in the

direction whence the sound seemed to come he perceived that it

proceeded from the opposite side of a great valley just ahead of him.

Making his way along to the brink of the valley he heard the voice of a

man saying, “It seems that I am in luck, for on the opposite side of

the valley a human being walks along.” He heard this voice three times.

As the trail led him in the direction of the sound he said, “I think it

my duty to follow this trail, for the voice may be that of one of my

brothers (said ironically).”

So descending into the valley he came to a terrace or bench, along

which he was following his brother’s tracks, when his attention was

attracted by pieces of bark falling around him. Halting and looking up

into a tree standing just at his side, he saw a small bird high up on

the trunk, clinging to it and flitting at times from place to place. He

saw that the bird pretended to be a flicker, or yellowhammer. When the

flicker saw him looking up, it said with a laugh, “Some people who

believe themselves possessed of orenda go about with bow and arrows

just as if they knew how to use them, although they may be the poorest

of marksmen.” Pointing an arrow at it, Little Burnt Belly said: “Be

careful of thyself. Some people trust their orenda too far, for they

lay claim to too much power for their own good.” At once the flicker

became visibly agitated, and kept glancing at Little Burnt Belly

furtively, as it slowly crept around the tree trunk. At an opportune

moment he let fly an arrow, which pierced the body of the flicker,

causing it to fall to the ground without uttering a sound. Little Burnt

Belly did not fail to notice the shocks of arrows sticking in the tree

trunk near the spot where the flicker was clinging and to recognize

them as belonging to his brothers; he saw also their broken bows, and

knew that they were in the power of some wizard.

Taking up his arrow with the flicker still pierced by it, and placing

it over his shoulder, he resumed his journey. He was not long in coming

to the lodge which he had seen in the distance, and to which the trail

of his brothers had led him. As he drew near, a man’s voice within

said, “Oh, my grandson! come in; I am thankful that you have come to

visit me.” On entering the lodge he saw an old man whom he recognized

as a cannibal, and he saw also before him, seated on her couch, a

fine-looking young maiden. The old man exclaimed: “I have been looking

for you for a very, very long time. I have said all along that a great

hunter was on his way to visit me. There sits my granddaughter whom you

are to marry. Granddaughter, move along, and give him some room by

you.” As Little Burnt Belly passed the old man the latter saw that he

was carrying something which he had killed, and he arose quickly,

saying: “Do give me the body of that thing which you have killed, for

it is indeed a very fine game animal.” But Little Burnt Belly replied:

“I will not give it up. I will first see my missing brothers.” The old

man persisted, however, saying: “You should give me that bird. I am

greatly agitated in my mind. Nothing yet has curbed my orenda. I will

get back that bird at any cost. A game animal has now come to my

lodge.” Little Burnt Belly retorted: “You are boasting of the

invulnerability of your orenda, but this bird contains your life, and I

am your master, and you know it. You have long ago forfeited your life

by all your murders and cannibalism, so now you shall die.” So saying,

Little Burnt Belly crushed his head with the blows of his war club.

Then he liberated the slave, or prisoner, of the cannibal from the

effects of drugs which had been given her by her master, and after

bringing back to life his own brothers, who had been devoured by the

cannibal, they all returned to the lodge of Honenhineh.

112. THE LEGEND OF GODASIYO

In the beginning of time, when the earth was new, when the inhabitants

of it spoke but a single tongue, when these good people dwelt in

perfect harmony and peace, and when the several settlements lived in

such manner that there were no quarrels or contentions among them,

there dwelt in one of these settlements, or villages, Godasiyo, a

woman, who was the chief of her village.

The village over which Godasiyo held sway was situated beside a very

large river; in fact, it occupied both sides of this important stream.

It was the custom of the people of Godasiyo to cross the river for the

purpose of visiting, of attending the dances which are held every

night, and of exchanging their goods—meat, venison, skins, furs, roots,

bark, and dried fruits and berries—in order to supply their several

needs. Moreover, the lodge of public assembly was situated on one side

of the river—a feature that occasioned considerable traveling across

and back. This stream was very large and rapid. The people crossed it

by means of a bridge constructed of saplings and of limbs of trees

carefully fastened together. The state of good will and contentment,

above described, continued for a long time, but at last trouble arose.

The cause of this was a white dog which belonged to the chief,

Godasiyo. The dissension became so serious that there was great danger

that the factions would become involved in a fight over the matter. The

great river divided the two parties.

Finally, Chief Godasiyo, after long deliberation, decided that the only

way in which a deadly contest could be avoided would be by the removal

of her own adherents to some other place of residence. Having decided

to take this step, she at once informed her adherents of her resolution

to remove westward by ascending the stream on which they were living.

She invited all who had taken her part to follow her into exile from

their present settlement. And they all agreed to emigrate with her. She

told them further that they would ascend the river in canoes of birch

bark, which would enable them to transport their small belongings with

ease. So the people set to work to construct the water craft. Two

canoes of birch bark of suitable size were made, and these were

fastened together by means of strong saplings extending from one canoe

to the other so as to support a kind of platform extending over the

canoes and the space between them. This structure was for the sole use

of the chief, Godasiyo. The followers of Godasiyo proceeded to

construct birch-bark canoes for themselves also. When Godasiyo took her

seat on the craft constructed for her sole use all her adherents and

defenders launched their own canoes containing their effects.