started out to view the notable things in the vicinity of the lodge.
They went to that place where for the first time during their visit
they had seen the beauty and pleasantness of that upper world; they
admired the strawberry plants, bearing luscious berries, as tall as the
high grasses among which they grew; these were in bloom, for their
bearing season was continuous. They saw, too, the growing trees full of
fine blossoms; never before had they seen such beautiful flowers, which
supplied the light of that upper world; and they saw the plants and the
shrubs and bushes full of fruits of all kinds, all growing luxuriantly.
Never before had they seen paths so fine leading in various directions;
and they beheld along these paths the trees whose overhanging boughs,
loaded with blossoms, were scented with all manner of fragrance.
They beheld all figures of human beings (oñʹgwe) promenading along the
paths from place to place, but they realized that these were shades (or
shadows), and that consequently it was not possible to hold
conversation with them. Farther along in their ramble they came to a
village which was inhabited, there being many lodges in different
places in the manner of a village of human beings. In passing through
the village one of the hosts, addressing Dehaenhyowens, said: “In this
lodge, standing here apart, your mother dwells. She was still on the
earth below when you and your party left on this journey; but she
started for this country soon after you had departed therefrom. Here
also dwell your relations—all those who were able to observe the
customs of their ancestors during the time they dwelt on the earth
below.”
Then they went back to the place where the old woman awaited their
return. On entering the lodge they said to her: “We have now returned
from our ramble,” to which she replied: “I have quite completed my
preparations. Now you must start on your journey homeward, and the men
of the lodge will accompany you part of the way. In going home you must
pass around by the place where abides the Light Orb that travels by
day. Let them see Him too. May your dreams foreshadow your safe arrival
home.”
Thereupon they departed from the lodge of the old woman. Not far
distant from the home of their hosts there stood a lodge. One of their
hosts told Dehaenhyowens and his friends that that was the lodge of the
Sun. “Thence,” they said, “he starts to give light to the world beneath
this one.” Having reached the lodge, they entered it, and within they
saw the Sun engaged in cooking chestnut-meal mush. One of the men of
Thunder said: “We are now on our journey, accompanying these human
beings part of their way home. We are taking these men back to the
earth below this one. The reason that we have come around this way is
that we desired to have you and them see one another.” Then the Master
of the lodge, raising his voice, said to his visitors: “It is I,
indeed, who has met with you. and it is I whom you habitually call in
your ceremonies, ʻHoʻsgĕⁿʼägeʻʹdăgōwā, He-the-Great-War-Chief, and our
Elder Brother, the Diurnal Orb of Light. I have just completed my usual
preparations for the journey on which I am about to start. Furthermore,
just as soon as you depart hence I will start on my journey to make the
earth below light and warm again.”
In a short time, the visitors having seen all that was interesting in
the lodge, said: “Let us now go hence on our journey,” and they at once
resumed their own course. They had not gone very far when the men of
Thunder said: “It is now time for us to begin; Dăgāʹĕⁿʻʹdăʼ shall be
the first one to act.” Dăgāʹĕⁿʻdăʼ, the former member of the party of
Dehaenhyowens (Light Rays?), began to sing in a loud voice, thus
setting his orenda to work to carry out his function. Then the two
human beings who were to return to the earth below saw the earth in the
distance beneath them, and they heard, too, the people dwelling on the
earth say: “Now the beginning of the Spring Season has come upon us.
Indeed, the Spring Wind is blowing warm and hot, and now, too, the
Thunders are singing in the distance.”
Then the party moved on. Looking down on the earth from above the sky
and the clouds they saw the effect of the singing of the Thunder men.
At this time the voices of the Thunder men sounded loud and angry, as
it were, as they moved along the sky, and on the earth below fell
torrents of rain with great force, and they saw the creeks and rivers
swell and overflow their banks.
To the human beings of the party they had not gone very far, as it
seemed, when they were startled by alighting on the earth. Thereupon
one of the Thunder men said to them: “Now, indeed, you are again at
your homes whence you departed, so we have fully discharged our
obligation to bring you safely back. Moreover, we will now tell you
something regarding another matter. It is a long time since the former
inhabitants of this country withdrew from here and went to another
settlement. You will find them in the place where they are now living.”
Having conducted their friends some distance on the ground, one of the
men of Thunder said: “We will now separate one from another. You must
keep us in remembrance. For this purpose you shall employ the native
tobacco, making an offering thereby in words and in acts. This will be
quite sufficient for the purpose, for we shall hear the thanksgiving
and accept the offering at once. In like manner shall it be done to all
those, and only to those, who are charged by Him with duties and
important functions. If you should think of Him or of them, that is the
chief and essential thing—the employment habitually of native tobacco
by you in this important matter. Such is the method which you who still
live on the earth here below must regularly employ in forming your
messages of thanksgiving. Such is the regulation and decree ordained
and promulgated by Him whom you call Deauñhyawagon, familiarly as
Hawĕñniʹyo (He, The Master). These are the words which we thought it
necessary for you to hear before we separated one from another. May you
have good dreams.”
Then the two parties separated, the one from the other; and the men of
Thunder departed from the earth, going back into the cloudland to their
own lodge.
In turn Dehaenhyowens and his lone companion started from the place
where they had been left. They were not long in finding the traces of
the former home of their friends. They found that the place had become
thickly overgrown with large trees to so great an extent that one
unacquainted with the facts would be in doubt whether or not any person
had ever lived in that place.
On seeing this, Dehaenhyowens said to his companion: “Verily, it seems
that we must depend on ourselves to find our people. We must,
therefore, go to seek the place where they now dwell.” Thereupon they
started, directing their course eastward, as they had been instructed.
At no great distance they saw the smoke from a village and made their
way to it. On entering the first lodge they reached, Dehaenhyowens
said, “We have now returned home.” In reply the master of the lodge
said: “Whither did you go, and who are you? As for myself, I do not
know you.” Answering him, Dehaenhyowens said: “Have you not at any time
heard the tradition which says that a number of men (three tens)
started on a journey along the path of the Sun—a party formed by
Dehaenhyowens and Gaenhyakdondye, two famous war chiefs, of men who had
thoroughly habituated themselves to warlike exercises? They undertook
while going toward the sunset to kill and scalp all the peoples whom
they might encounter on their way.” The master of the lodge said to
them in reply: “I myself know nothing of the matter about which you are
speaking. When such a thing may have taken place I do not know. It may
be that the old woman living in yonder lodge may know about this
matter. You should go over to consult her concerning it.”
So Dehaenhyowens and his companion passed on, going to the lodge
pointed out to them. On entering the lodge Dehaenhyowens said to the
old woman: “Do you know the circumstance in the history of your people
when in the long ago some men—warriors, three times ten in number—went
on an expedition from which they never returned? The party was formed
by war chiefs, Dehaenhyowens and Gaenhyakdondye. They went toward the
sunset, following the path of the Sun.” Answering his question, the old
woman said: “It is indeed true that such an event took place. I have
heard my deceased grandmother say many times that when she was still a
child men to the number of 30 started out on an expedition, but they
never returned to their homes.” After some moments of thought she
added: “Probably the man who dwells yonder in that lodge not far away
from here remembers the whole matter, for he has had an exceedingly
long life, and so is probably familiar with the tradition about which
you speak. Therefore you would better visit him and seek further
information from him.”
Thereupon Dehaenhyowens and his companion again started on their quest
for some one who knew them. On reaching their new destination they
found the very old man of whom the old woman had spoken, and they asked
him: “Do you remember an affair, which took place many years ago, in
which warriors to the number of 30 departed hence on an expedition
along the path of the Sun?” After a few moments of reflection the old
man replied: “I remember the matter full well. This is what happened:
There lived a people yonder, some distance away, where this affair took
place. There were a number of young men who had grown up together, all
about 16 years of age; 30 of these organized themselves into a war
party, binding themselves together by means of an oath or vow. Having
fully organized their troop, they caused the people of the entire
community to assemble at the Long Lodge of public gatherings, whereupon
Dehaenhyowens arose and said: ‘Now then, it shall be made known to you
who have assembled here that we have indeed completed our preparations.
We young men, who are three tens in number, have enlisted by “notching
the stick” to go on an expedition along the path of the Sun. We have
made the agreement strong, for we have commingled our minds. Now it is
as if we had only a single head, only a single body of flesh, only a
single life, and we shall bleed as one person. Moreover, we renounce
our kindred, and we also forswear our lives. We shall now depart hence,
directing our course toward the West, for we desire to make a journey
to the place of the sunset—to the place where the Diurnal Light Orb is
wont to make his way to and fro. Our band have appointed me and my dear
brother to be their chiefs to lead them. We, too, have made a solemn
vow that no matter what the situation confronting us we will
nevertheless pass onward in our journey. We have indeed enlisted in
this matter seriously by “notching the stick.” This is, of course, as
you well know, the pledge that each one of us will do what we have
agreed to do one with another.’ Thereupon, they departed from us, and
they have never returned.”
Dehaenhyowens, replying to the old man, said, “How long ago may it be
since that event took place?” The old man answered, “It is now three
generations ago—that is, three generations have passed away since that
time.” Then Dehaenhyowens asked, “Who were the chiefs of those who
departed?” The old man said, “Dehaenhyowens and his brother,
Gaĕⁿʻhyakdoñʹdyeʹ; these two persons were chosen as the chiefs of the
party.” To this Dehaenhyowens responded, “Verily, grandsire, we are the
remaining members of that party—my brother, Gaĕⁿʻhyakdoñʹdyeʹ, our
friend Dagāʹdyeʹ, and I; so many of the number have now returned home.
It was, verily, our party that departed from the place where your and
my people formerly dwelt, at that place yonder not far away.” But the
old man, still doubting what he had heard, said: “It is probably not
you who went away, because it appears from your youthful aspect that
you have just reached manhood, and that event occurred a very long time
ago.” Dehaenhyowens, however, answered: “Nevertheless, we are the very
persons who started, at least those of us who still are left alive; and
we have now arrived home again.” On hearing this, the old man said: “If
possible, then, do tell me the name of the chief of our people when you
departed.” Dehaenhyowens quickly answered, “Dăgäidoñʹdyeʼ was the name
of the chief of our people at that time.” Now convinced of what he
doubted, the old man answered: “That statement is, indeed, also true.
The fact that he was my grandfather is the reason why I am so fully
acquainted with that matter. Now, I admit that I am convinced that it
is indeed you and your friends who departed so many years ago, and that
it is you, too, who have returned home; and as it is meet so to do, our
present chief shall now be made cognizant of this matter. So remain
here in this lodge, and I will now send him word of your return, to
await his pleasure.”
Accordingly the chief was made acquainted with the matter at once.
Forthwith he sent out runners, giving notice to all the people to
assemble immediately in the Long Lodge of public meetings to hear news
most startling and important; he set the following day for the assembly
of the people. When the morning of the next day dawned all the people,
having made the necessary preparations to attend the great council,
hurriedly gathered in the assembly hall. Dehaenhyowens and his two
companions went there in company with his host, the old man, whose
grandfather was a former chief of his people. The assemblage was large,
for everyone who could possibly leave home attended. When all were
seated the chief arose, and ceremoniously greeted the newly arrived men
in these words: “We have learned only a hint of what occurred during
your expedition, and we desire fervently to know more of the events
which took place while you have been absent. So now we shall listen to
the whole account, and we will hear the leader of the party.”
Thereupon Dehaenhyowens arose, amidst deep silence, and spoke briefly,
as follows: “There were 30 of us who started on the expedition along
the path of the Sun; but only three of us have returned. It is I who
bear the name Dehaenhyowens. On this hand sits my brother,
Gaĕⁿʻhyakdoñʹdye’ʹ, for such is the name that he bears; and on this
hand sits our friend, Dăgāʹdye’ʹ, for such is the name that he bears.
So many only are we who survive. It came to pass during the time of our
expedition along the path of the Sun to the skyland that one of our
number remained there as an assistant to the people in that far-away
land. It is quite impossible for him to return again to this earth to
live.” Then Dehaenhyowens related at great length all that had occurred
to him and his party and all the things that they had seen from the
time they had left their homes until their return. After speaking thus
Dehaenhyowens resumed his seat.
The chief then said: “It was in fact a marvelous thing that was done by
your party. It is a very long time since you departed from your homes;
but now you have returned, only you three persons. Of course, one of
the most essential things about this matter to be remembered is that
Deauñhyāwaʹgon, sometimes called Hawĕñniʹyo, forewilled that you, and
only you, should be enabled to return home safely. Preparations have
been made so that we may now exchange greetings, and this shall be
done. You, the surviving ones of the party, three in number, will take
a suitable position, and I will take the lead in a ceremonial greeting
to you; for I, of course, stand in the stead of the one who was the
chief of the people when you departed. My name is Dagäʹidoñʹdyeʼ. Then
we will do this: We will mutually and severally stroke one another’s
body in greeting. This ceremony shall be for all persons, including our
children—we will all greet one another in this ceremonial manner, for
this was the custom of our fathers on such occasions.”
Accordingly Dehaenhyowens and his two friends took suitable positions
in which to receive the greetings of the people, and the people with
the chief in the lead came forward and cordially stroked their bodies
according to the custom. All the men, women, and children arose and
greeted them. When the ceremony was over the chief said: “We will do in
the future all the things that we have today learned should be done.
This, too, you shall know—you who have just returned home—that we shall
be equal with you in the enjoyment and disposition of the things that
we possess, so that our minds and yours shall think in peace. Here, you
know, dwell the people, and now, of course, we again shall commingle
and associate together. Everything is in readiness for us to rejoice
and be happy, seeing that you have returned home in safety and health.
The first thing to be done is to make merry by a game. They whose
bodies are strong will play at a game of lacrosse ball; thus shall they
amuse your minds, and you may rejoice. When that shall have passed we
shall dance, beginning with the Pigeon Song, or Song of the Pigeons.
When that is passed it will be time for us to disperse to our homes.”
Thereupon Dehaenhyowens, arising, said: “It is marvelous to know that
we have been absent from our people during three generations; and we
are rejoicing that we have, though much fewer in numbers, returned to
our homes. We are indeed very happy that we are again one people with
you.”
Then the young men went to the public gaming grounds and there engaged
in an exciting game of lacrosse ball. When this game was over the
people assembled in the Long Lodge of public meetings and there they
performed the ceremony of the Song of the Pigeons. They danced all the
songs of this ceremony, which is quite long and exciting. Even the
children danced to show their pleasure at seeing the returned men.
(This is the end of the story.)
120. AN ADDRESS OF THANKSGIVING TO THE POWERS OF THE MASTER OF LIFE
[440]
We congratulate one another this day because we are still alive in this
world.
Besides this act we give thanks to the Earth, and we give thanks also
to all the things which it contains. Moreover, we give thanks also to
the Visible Sky. We give thanks also to the Orb of Light that daily
goes on its course during the daytime. We give our thanks nightly also
to the Light Orb that pursues its course during the night.
So now, we give thanks also to those persons, the Thunderers, who bring
the rains. Moreover, we give thanks also to the servants of the Master
of Life, who protect and watch over us day by day and night by night.
And now, furthermore, we send our thanks also to his person, to the
Finisher-of-our-lives. To him our thanksgiving we offer in fervent
gratitude.
And now a ceremony shall begin, a ceremony which was given to us, to
mankind, by the Finisher-of-our-bodies—namely, the ceremony of the
Great Feather Dance.
So let everyone be enthusiastic, then, in this ceremony. We must enjoy
ourselves as much as possible during this ceremony. It was given to us
for the purpose of benefiting us in its performance in honor of him,
the Master of Life, who gave it to us, and we must all do what is right
and just one to another, and we also must continue to give thanks to
the Master of Life for the good things which we enjoy at his hand.
So now will begin the singing of the songs of the Ritual of the Great
Feather Dance. So let each and every one share in it, then. [At this
point the singers on the song bench begin singing the songs of this
ceremony. All who take part should be arrayed in festival attire. The
faces of the dancers should be painted, and their heads should be
adorned with feather headdresses. When this ceremony is ended the
Master of Ceremonies, arising, makes the following statement:]
“So now, moreover, in such an assembly of people as this is, another
ceremony is about to begin, one other that the Finisher-of-our-lives
has ordained for our performance. So, then, let us be thankful,
moreover, that our lives and persons are still spared in the affairs of
this world.
“So now, moreover, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving
thanks for the bounties it has received from the Master of Life.
“So now, moreover, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving
thanks. The Master of Life has willed that there be officers among the
people whose duty it is to promote the celebration of the Six
Ceremonies. So we give thanks, too, that you who are officials among
the people are still spared your lives.
“So now, moreover, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving
thanks for the bounties it has received. He, the Master of Life, willed
that there shall be certain persons among men who shall be called
chiefs (because their renown is great), and that upon them,
furthermore, shall rest the grave responsibility of promoting peace and
health among the people, and also that upon them shall rest the
responsibility of making addresses of thanksgiving at the celebrations
of the Thanksgiving Ceremony, in which they shall direct their words to
the Maker-and-finisher-of-our-lives, at the same time earnestly urging
all persons to enjoy themselves there and to be happy.
“So now, moreover, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving
thanks. The Creator-of-our-lives willed that there shall be in life two
varieties or kinds of life, one of which shall be called Female and the
other shall be called Male. He willed that by this means mankind shall
see the coming of humanity (through the birth of children). So,
therefore, we give thanks that this ceremony or rite of the union of
two kinds of life is going on, just as he decreed that mankind should
live in pairs—male and female. So, therefore, we offer up thanks
because we have our eyes on our offspring who are coming, differing in
size, to us.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there be an earth continually. So let us give
thanks that the processes of the earth go on in accordance with his
rule, and that we human beings are traveling about over it.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be springs of water, and that
there shall be waters that flow. So, too, we give thanks because there
are waters that flow as ordained, and because there are springs of
water likewise, which are for our comfort as we go to-and-fro over the
earth.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed, too, that ‘I will bestow that on which they shall
live—corn, and that it shall grow in its seasons.’ So then, let us now
give thanks because we have again set our eyes on all those things upon
which we live. We are thankful that we again see all these things.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall continue to grow on the earth all
manner of herbs, and, too, that these shall be for use as medicines,
which shall be, each and every one, a succor and support to the people;
they shall be for medicine.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall grow various kinds of flowers on
the earth, and that among these shall grow continually strawberries.
So, too, let us give thanks because these are for our pleasure and
contentment.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall grow shrubs on the earth
continually, and that all these shall be for medicines for mankind at
all times. So, too, let us give thanks that these are giving us perfect
satisfaction and comfort, and because these shrubs are our own aid and
sustenance.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that other shrubs and trees in groves shall ever
grow to maturity on which various fruits and berries shall ever hang in
abundance. So, too, let us give thanks because these fruit-bearing
shrubs and trees grow continually, giving us at all times abundantly
contentment and pleasure.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be forests that shall continually
reproduce themselves by growth, which shall continue to be at all times
helpful to mankind, ‘whom I have placed on the earth.’ So, too, let us
be thankful that our minds are contented for the reason that the
forests grow.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that in the forests which shall continue to grow
there shall live and increase all manner of game animals in utmost
variety. So, too, let us give thanks for this bountiful provision,
because in full measure and number the game animals are abundant in the
growing forests, as intended by him, and they are ever the full means
of giving us pleasure and contentment while we dwell on the earth.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be growing forests in which there
shall be certain trees from which (maple) sap shall habitually fall in
its season. So, too, let us give thanks because there still grow here
and there maple trees, for we still can look upon maple sugar.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be brakes of great herbs on which
shall grow sunflowers continually in their season, and that these shall
serve to give pleasure and contentment to mankind dwelling on the
earth.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed, ‘I shall place a duty on certain persons to care
for and watch over the earth, and they shall cause rain to fall
habitually, and the rain shall prosper all the things that grow out of
the earth, and these persons shall habitually approach from the west,
and people will call them Our Grandsires, whose voices are heard from
place to place—the Thunderers.’
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall ever be a Sky, on which there
shall ever appear a Light Orb which will go about from place to place
as day succeeds day, and people shall call this orb of light the Sun.
So, too, let us be thankful that we see each day that the light orb
moves on in its course.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be darkness by periods of a
certain length, and that in the sky there shall ever appear a Light Orb
which shall ever go from place to place, and which human beings will
call the Nocturnal Orb of Light—the Moon. So, too, let us be thankful
because night after night we see this orb of light holding to its
course, and know that our Creator so decreed it.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall ever be a Sky, and that in it
there shall be Stars fixed from place to place. So, too, let us be
thankful, because we see these stars night after night, just as our
Creator has decreed that it shall be.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be Persons who shall guard mankind
from harm by day and by night. So, too, let us be thankful that these
Four Persons protect us daily and nightly.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks.
He willed that just and righteous acts shall be the means of making us
true men and women. So, too, let us be thankful because his words are
being carried out on earth.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that in thanksgiving addresses the celebrant must
offer thanks to all things, beginning with these on earth and ending
with the person of the Master of Life. So, too, let us be thankful that
we have now rendered to our Maker our thanks for the bounties of life.
“So now, too, this assembly of people, such as it is, is giving thanks
this day. He willed that there shall be persons who shall have the
ability to sing the songs of the Great Feather Dance, which were
bestowed on us by our Creator. So now we thank you, Singers, who have
this power and who have so well again performed your duty, a duty which
is not an easy one.
“May all the people here enjoy peace and health until the time for the
next celebration of this ceremony, which is fixed at a future day.
Live, then, in peace and health. I end.”
121. A CORN LEGEND AND A FLOOD STORY
There is a story that in ancient times there occurred a great calamity,
which was caused by a rain that lasted three months. The result of this
long rain was that the waters rose high and soon flooded the whole
extent of the dry land. Only one man was saved. He climbed a tree to
save himself from the waters.
The waters rose high in every place except on one tract of land on
which stood a village of about six families, from which all the game
had disappeared; so the people of these families had nothing to eat.
This village was situated on the bank of a small stream where grew a
large number of slippery-elm trees. The absence of all other food
compelled the miserable wretches to strip the bark from these trees to
use as food. They dried the bark and then pounded it into a kind of
coarse meal, which they mixed with water to make a sort of bread to
satisfy their hunger.
During this terrible time of scarcity, one night when all others were
fast asleep one of the young men of the small village, being awake,
heard some person walking with very heavy tread. He was not moved to
fear by this experience, so he decided not to inform his companions of
what he had heard. For 30 successive nights he heard this tramping and
walking to and fro, as he surmised. But the young man had been thinking
deeply on the meaning of the sounds he had been hearing night after
night, and on the morning of the day following the thirtieth night he
informed his companions that some person was about to pay them a visit.
The sounds of the walking had appeared to him to come from the east.
Not long after this the people realized the truth of what he had told
them, for a strange woman [441] came to their lodge. No one knew whence
she came, for they were surrounded by water, and there was no land in
sight. The strange woman did not remain at this lodge, but went
directly to the lodge of the brother of the young man who had heard her
walking. When the brother, who had been outside the lodge, reentered it
he found the woman seated. He had never before seen another woman like
her, for she was beyond measure attractive in person, in manner, and in
her words and actions. The brother questioned her, asking her whence
she came and whither she was going. The woman replied: “I have come
from the south to assist you and your people in obtaining food for your
needs. I came because my mother sympathizes greatly with her people,
and it is she who has sent me here to become the wife of your elder
son.” Answering her, the man said: “It seems very strange that your
mother should send you here, but of course she probably knows that we
are in despair, expecting nothing but death from hunger and
starvation.” By way of reply to this the young woman asked: “Will you
grant me the pleasure of having my mother’s request fulfilled?” The
man, whose mind had already begun to hope for better things for his
people, replied, “Yes; her request will be granted, and you will become
the wife of my son.” She did become his wife, and they lived as husband
and wife.
The bride wife the next morning said to her brother-in-law: “You must
have the corn bins cleared out and ready, just as if you expected to
use them for storing corn.” The brother-in-law at once told his sister
to clear out the corn bins just as if they expected to store corn in
them. Having done this, the sister informed her sister-in-law that they
were ready. The younger brother exclaimed: “I am glad that our family
has increased.” At the dawn of day the next morning the people,
awakening as if they had been frightened, heard sounds which indicated
that corn was falling into their corn bins, which had been empty so
long. Some hardly believed their ears, and doubted that they had
received so much corn freely. So when the bride wife asked that corn be
prepared and cooked, her husband told his sister to make it ready,
although in his mind he felt that his wife had said this just because
she knew well that they had nothing to eat and nothing with which to
prepare anything.
Then the bride wife said to her brother-in-law: “You go to the river
and catch for us some fish, so that we may have fish to eat with our
corn bread.” But the young man replied: “It is strange that you should
think that there are fish in the river, for I have not seen one there
for many months.” But the woman insisted that he should go, saying:
“You will, however, find fish there.” He, in some doubt still,
answered: “Very well, I will go, although I know that I shall not find
any fish there.” Finally he went, as she had asked him to do, for the
sake of his people. On reaching the stream he saw a fish; it was indeed
the first he had seen since the great rainstorm had begun. He planned
his measures so well that he caught the fish, which was very large, and
at once started for the lodge. Arriving there, he said that it was the
only fish he saw. The bride wife said: “This is the fish I meant. Now
your sister will clean it and place it in the kettle to cook it.” When
the sister was told to get some corn and to prepare it for cooking, she
said: “I have indeed cleared out the bins; all are empty, and not a cob
is left on the poles on which hung the corn strings. Before this
terrible rain came we had an abundance, but now we have not even a
kernel for seed; all has indeed strangely disappeared.” The brother
insisted, however, on her going to the bins, saying: “Go to see what
you can. I heard a strange sound at dawn this morning, the sound of
falling grains of corn.” To satisfy him the sister went to the bins
where she was so fortunate as to find enough to fill both hands full.
Delighted at finding even this small quantity, the girl returned and
set to work preparing the corn for pounding into meal. It was not long
before she had prepared and cooked a loaf of corn bread about two spans
of the hand in circumference.
When the bride wife was informed that the loaf and the fish were ready
to eat she said: “You must invite all your neighbors, so that each may
have a portion of what you have cooked. You will cut the loaf into as
many portions as there are persons in this village, and you must divide
the fish in the same manner.” This was done. When the people who had
gathered together in response to the invitation were all seated, the
elder son of the family, the bridegroom, arose to speak. He said: “The
Master of Life has gladdened our hearts with this loaf of bread and
with this fish, the kind of food we ate before this water surrounded
us. It must indeed be the will of the Master of Life that we should
live. Before this young woman came to our lodge we expected to starve
to death, and it is she who has invited every one in this village to
come here to eat this food. In the future, therefore, it shall be the
custom that when anyone shall have good fortune in his hunting or
fishing he shall prepare a feast to which all his neighbors shall be
made welcome.” His sister was told to serve all the people who had
come. It seemed impossible, however, that even a small mite of fish or
bread could be given to each of so many persons. But after she had
begun to serve out the bread and the fish, she found that she could do
this with what she had; and all were satisfied. There indeed seemed to
be only a spoonful of broth in which the fish was cooked, but all were
given a drink out of it and grew strong. The woman received the thanks
of the people for the food which she had brought to them. What they had
received seemed enough, and it was their opinion that this was an
example for them to follow, so they declared: “Hereafter, if we obtain
anything good to eat, it shall be shared equally by all. Such shall be
our custom.”
Then the bridegroom’s brother informed the people that the bride
desired the people to go to their homes and clear out their corn bins,
just as if they were expecting to fill them with grain, and that they
must act at once in this matter. So the people quickly returned to
their lodges to carry out the bride’s request. During the following
night the young man who had first heard the walking of the still
unknown woman again heard the sound made by falling corn grains. In the
morning the people of the several lodges found their corn bins well
supplied with corn, and they were greatly rejoiced at this good
fortune. Then an old woman, one of the near neighbors of the bride,
said: “I will ask the young woman whence she came to us, so that we may
know who it is that has been so kind and merciful to us.” So going to
the lodge of the newly married couple she addressed the bride, saying:
“I have come to ask you to tell us whence you came to us?” The bride
willingly replied: “I came from the south, where my mother lives. She
knew of your destitute condition and felt very miserable about it,
hence she sent me to marry this young man. He indeed knew that I was
coming before I arrived here. My mother sent me on this errand so that
I could protect you by providing for your most pressing needs.”
Replying, the old woman said: “I am thankful and so are all my
neighbors that your mother was moved to pity us by seeing our
distressing condition and destitution; it is through her that we shall
live. We are indeed grateful to her and to you for fulfilling your duty
in the matter.” Thus it was made clear to all the people to whom they
owed their good fortune. They saw then that it was through the bride
and her mother that the bare corncobs that hung in the corn stacks were
again filled with grains of corn, and that their corn bins were again
full of grain.
After this there came a time when the bridegroom’s younger brother
began to dislike his sister-in-law, and he sought in many ways to abuse
her, saying rude things to her at times. At first the sister-in-law
paid no attention to his abuse.[442] One day she made bread from corn
grits, and she gave a loaf of it to her hostile brother-in-law, saying:
“I have made this for you.” But he seized it rudely, exclaiming: “Do
you mean to insult me? I will not eat such bread as that; it is not fit
to eat.” With these words he tossed the loaf of bread into the fire.
Without a word of remonstrance the young woman cast herself down on her
couch and covered her head in sorrow; and she remained thus until her
husband returned. At once he asked the cause of her sorrow. At first
she refused to tell him. Finally, however, he prevailed on her to do
so. She said: “Lately your brother abuses me at every opportunity. I
made him bread of the best material I had, and he sneeringly threw it
into the fire. So I will go home to my mother. If you desire to
accompany me, you may do so. It will require as much time for me to
return to my home as it required to come here. When my mother sent me
she did not expect me to return to her home again. But I must go, and
all that I brought with me shall go back with me. All is due to your
brother’s fault. This is why I am sorrowful.” Her husband was deeply
grieved at the prospect for his people, and he sought to persuade his
wife to change her resolution, but he could not induce her to remain.
In the evening, having completed her preparations, she started on her
return journey, saying to her husband: “When you are hungry, follow my
trail. You shall encounter many difficulties, but you must not falter
by the way. At all times keep in mind that you are going to your wife.
You must not stop to rest either day or night. So take courage and do
not falter. Now I go.”
During that night all the people heard the sound of falling grains of
corn, which dropped from the cobs hanging on the strings of ears. The
next morning the bridegroom asked his sister to go for corn. She went
as directed, but found the corn bins empty and the corncobs bare. This
was true, indeed, of all the lodges of the village.
The night following the morning which showed the people that all their
corn had mysteriously disappeared the old woman who had asked the
strange young woman whence she had come visited the lodge of the lone
bridegroom and asked him where his wife was. He told her that she had
returned to the lodge of her mother because of the abuse which his
brother had heaped on her, and that all the good things which she had
brought with her had gone away with her; and he told the old woman
further that it was all due to his brother’s fault. He said that his
wife could not punish the culprit without punishing all the
people,[443] and that he could do nothing in the matter.
The direful plight of the village caused the bridegroom to resolve to
follow his wife to her home to learn whether it were possible to
relieve the distress of his people. After making some necessary
preparations, he started out on the trail of his wife. As he followed
it he found that there was a well-defined path on the waters which
entirely surrounded his people. When he started on this perilous trip
the husband remembered what his wife had said to him about the
difficulties of the journey, and what he must do to overcome them; so
he kept on his way by day and by night without stopping. At all times
he could plainly see her trail, which appeared as if it had just been
made.
In the meanwhile, when he started his mother-in-law said to her
daughter, who had returned home: “Your husband is coming to you and to
us; he has now left the home of his people.” It is said that his
mother-in-law could hear his footsteps as he followed the trail.
As his wife had told him to give no thought to the great difficulties
of the way, he kept them out of his mind; he did not realize the great
length of time he was on the journey. After many days he reached a
cornfield, and by this sign he was delighted to know that he was very
near his journey’s end. Stopping for a moment and looking around he saw
a column of smoke rising from the middle of the cornfield, and he at
once decided that it must come from the lodge of his mother-in-law;
thereupon he went directly toward it.
Having arrived in front of the doorway he was gladly surprised to hear
the voice of his mother-in-law from the inside saying to him: “Come in,
my son-in-law.” On entering the lodge he saw his wife and was made
welcome by her and his mother-in-law. His wife said to him: “You have
done my bidding, and I am pleased that you have. Is it not good to see
our cornfield so exuberantly filled with rich ears of corn? And is it
not pleasant to think that we can live here in peace and comfort? Being
faithful, you shall be prosperous.” The mother-in-law, who knew that he
was approaching, had ready, cooked and prepared, a large bark bowl full
of oniasont (crook-necked squash), which she hastily set before him
without reserving any portion of it. When he had eaten his fill he
thanked her and the Source of All Life. He remained in the lodge of his
mother-in-law until the growing corn had ripened. Then he said: “I
think that it is time for me to be going back to my people. I can now
be of some service to them.” His wife said to him: “Your brother, who
found pleasure in abusing me, is dead; he died, indeed, of hunger and
starvation. It is, indeed, too bad that he had so evil a disposition.”
The husband replied: “I do not mourn for him, for he knew well what he
was doing when he heaped abuse on you.” The wife answered: “You will
find your people still without food. You must be very cautious on the
journey. I am afraid that you may be overcome on the way.” Thereupon
she told him of a number of animals which he would find along the path,
and which did not exist until after the second creation. The waters of
the great flood had then gone down, and the earth had become new. She
gave him food for his people; also, for seeding, one ear of corn of
each variety, some beans of each variety, and one squash, which his
people must use for seeding their land. The wife gave her husband also
provisions for his journey, ready cooked for eating cold. She cautioned
him not to stop on the way, lest he be overcome by the evil powers
which infested the pathway to his home. Then they parted
affectionately.
The husband started homeward. He encountered many obstacles and unknown
beasts and animals on the way; but at last after many days of travel
without stopping to rest, he safely reached his home. He found there
only low timber and bushes and weeds growing. On arrival at his own
lodge he gave a few kernels of corn to each family, saying: “This corn
shall be the chief source of sustenance of the people hereafter.” In
like manner he did with each of the several kinds of seeds which he had
brought back with him. It is from these seeds that were propagated all
the food plants which the human race had in ancient times.
122. THE LEGEND OF MAN’S ACQUISITION OF CORN
(A SENECA-TUTELO LEGEND)
In ancient times there was a village situated on the banks of a river.
The chief source of subsistence of the people was the natural products
of forest and stream—that is to say, game and fish, berries and various
edible roots and tubers.
There came a day when the people dwelling in this village were told by
an old woman that she heard the voice of a woman singing on the river;
and she told them further that the words used by this strange singer
were: “Luxuriant and fine are the planted fields where I dwell, going
to and fro. Luxuriant and fine are the planted fields which we have
planted. My grandmother and my ancestors have planted them.”
After hearing this singing for 10 nights the old woman said to her
family and neighbors: “Let us go out to see what this singing means;
perhaps some woman has fallen into the water, and it may be she who is
singing in the middle of the river.” They did go to the river bank, but
saw nothing, and they returned much chagrined at their failure to
discover the singer.
On the tenth night following, the woman again began to sing, seemingly
from the middle of the river not very far from the village. Again she
sang: “Luxuriant and fine are the planted fields (of corn) where I
dwell, going to and fro. Luxuriant and fine are the planted fields (of
corn) which we have planted. My grandmother and my ancestors have
planted them.” Then the women of the village, going to the river bank
for three nights, sang songs of welcome and recognition, and on the
third night these women perceived that the singer on the river had
drawn nearer to them. On the fourth night the women watching with their
children on the river bank, and singing in response to the singing on
the river, were surprised to see coming toward them a large number of
women. Thereupon one of the girls exclaimed: “Oh, grandmother, do not
let these women seize us,” and the children fled from the place. But
the spokeswoman, who was the eldest person present, said: “I alone
shall remain here to await whatever may befall me, and I do so because
my granddaughter, who is coming, is in need of pity and aid.”
At this the woman, the midstream singer, exclaimed: “Oh, my
grandmother! take me hence. I am not able to go there (where you now
are).” Then the grandmother (so called by the courtesy of clan kinship)
placed her canoe of birch bark in the stream and soon by rapid paddling
reached the side of the young woman who had been singing in midstream.
She found her granddaughter lying on the back of a beaver, which
mysteriously held her above the water. The granddaughter was the first
to speak, saying: “Oh, my grandmother! take me hence.” The grandmother,
replying: “Oh, my grandchild! your wish shall be fulfilled,” at once
proceeded to place her granddaughter in the canoe, after which she
headed for the shore of the stream, paddling to the landing place in a
short time. When they had landed, the young woman said: “Oh,
grandmother! now leave me here. I will remain here, and you must come
after me in the morning. Nothing shall happen me in the meantime.” The
grandmother at once returned to her own lodge, where, of course, she
related in detail what had taken place.
Early the next morning she returned to the landing place where she had
left her granddaughter (by courtesy). There she saw only the growing
stalk of a plant. Drawing near to this she found growing on the stalk
an ear of corn, and breaking it off she carried it back to her lodge,
where she hung it up on a roof-supporting pole hard by the fireplace.
It came to pass during the following night that the grandmother, so
called, had a dream or vision, in which the young woman who had been
singing in midstream said to her, “Oh, my grandmother, you should
unhang me from this place, for it is indeed too hot here. You should
place me in the ground—plant me—and then leave me there; for I will
provide for you and your people, you human beings. So kindly place me
under the ground.” This dream came to the old woman three nights in
succession. So she took down the ear of corn, and after shelling it she
planted the grains of corn in the ground just as she had been
instructed to do by the dream.
But on the following night the grandmother again dreamed, and the young
woman in the dream said to her, “You and your people must care for me.
You must not permit weeds to kill me. You shall see me sprout and grow
to maturity; and it is a truth that in the future all the people who
shall be born will see that I will provide for their welfare. So you
must take great care of me. You will see, you and your people, a great
multitude of people who are about to arrive here. You will see, I say,
that I will provide for all during the time the earth shall be in
existence. You shall now learn what is a well-known truth—that is, that
I am corn; I am native corn; I am sweet corn. I am the first corn that
came or was delivered to this earth.” For three successive nights the
grandmother, so called, had this same dream or vision, hence she came
to regard it as a direct intimation to her regarding the disposition to
be made of the corn on the ear which she had found on the bank of the
river. So forcibly did the injunctions impress her that she planted the
corn in the ground as directed; and she carefully followed the
directions of the Corn Maiden as to the care required by the growing
corn to enable it to mature and to prevent it being choked to death by
weeds.
In the autumn the old woman [444] harvested her corn, and taking it
into her lodge she divided it into as many portions as there were
families in the village of her people. Then she gave a portion to the
chief matron in each lodge, telling each that the corn should be used
in the spring for seed and also how it should be planted and
cultivated. Afterward she returned to her own lodge. She was greatly
rejoiced at the prospect of her people having something which would
supply them with a staple food, if they would only properly care for
it.
In a short time after reaching her own lodge she lay down on her couch
to rest for the night; but she had hardly fallen asleep before she had
another dream, or vision, of the Corn Maiden. In this dream the Corn
Maiden said to her: “You must tell my children (the human beings) that
they must not waste in any manner the corn which shall grow to maturity
in the future. It is well known that those who do not honor and
properly care for me invariably come to want and destitution; for
unless they act so toward me when I leave I shall take all the corn and
other seed away. And, grandmother, you must tell all these things to
your people and kindred.”
Some time after this event the old woman said to her nephew (?): “Do
not travel around from place to place, for it is a well-known fact that
there are beings roaming about which have the disposition to overcome
and destroy men by the exercise of their orenda.” But the nephew (?)
replied: “Oh! there is nothing going about from place to place which
has the power to kill men.”
Then there came a time many days after this that the Corn Maiden saw
her brother arrive there. He was a human being, tall beyond measure,
and in other respects of corresponding size. He said to her: “Do you
now come forth (out of the lodge).” She obeyed him by leaving her
lodge, whereupon he took her up in his arms. He saw there a stone ax
and an arrowhead of flint. After carefully examining these he asked:
“Have these things, simple as they are, the power to kill a person?”
She made no reply to this question, and the giant departed, carrying
away captive his youngest sister. On the way she began to sing: “Oh,
elder brother! have you not been in the habit of saying that there is
nothing that roams about which has the power to kill persons? How do
you explain this?” Now the name of the person who stole this woman is
Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ [445] (Ga-mĕñdji-dāʻ-kăʻ is the Tutelo name), (The
refrain of the song she sang was the Tutelo words, Daʻhĕñgeʻ,
daʻhĕñgeʻ, wāʻhoyăʼ ĕñ gi lo yot.)
Another brother of the Corn Maiden (of the lodge of the old woman)
taking a stone ax and a bow and arrows, and asking his grandmother to
follow him, said: “Let us two go fetch home my younger sister.” So
saying, he started in pursuit of Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ, the so-called Stone
Giant, and his grandmother followed him on the perilous journey. His
pursuit was vigorous and tireless, and he was not long in overtaking
Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ. Coming up to him, he shot him with a flint arrow,
saying at the same time: “I have come to bring back home my younger
sister.” Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ, weeping with pain, said: “I confess my
guilt. I did a great wrong in stealing this maiden from her home.” Then
he surrendered her to her brother, who, taking his sister by the hand,
started with his grandmother for their home.
When they had arrived at their own lodge the young woman who had been
kidnaped by Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ said to her grandmother: “You will now
prepare some food (bread). You will take one grain of corn from the cob
and pound it into meal. This alone will suffice, it is well known, to
provide us (all human beings living) with food enough to satisfy our
appetites at this banquet held in celebration of the return of the
Maiden captured by Doōdĕⁿnĕñyāʹhoⁿʼ, the Stone Giant.” When the corn
had been procured and prepared, the Maiden again spoke, saying: “I am
about to give a feast, which shall be held in my honor, and in which
you women shall dance the Corn dances.”
The feast was held in accordance with her wishes, and the women danced
the Corn dances as she directed them, and all the people rejoiced with
her. When the feast of thanksgiving was ended the Maiden said: “Now, as
for me, I am starting on my return to my home. I shall go back to the
place whence I came. It shall be an established thing in the future
forever that corn shall exist, and that mankind shall never again die
from starvation. I now go to my home.”
Thereupon she started away, going back on the river on which she had
come; and as she went along she sang a song, the words of which were
“We, the varieties of corn, beans, and squashes, are the mothers of the
peoples of the whole world.” These words she sang to teach the people
what to sing in their Corn dances.
After she had returned to her home she received a proposal of marriage
from Oʻstawĕⁿʼsĕñʹtoⁿʼ (Sumac Tree?). She accepted his suit and the two
were married. When they were together the Corn Maiden said to her
husband, “You must love me (that is, regard me as a precious thing);”
and her husband assured her that he would indeed comply with her
request and his duty.
Then they returned to the lodge of Mother Bean, which they reached by
traveling on the river a long distance. Mother Bean said to them: “You
two must carry back with you some beans, which you must take to that
distant land, where you shall leave them.” On their return to their own
lodge the bridegroom carried the beans to that other land in which his
wife had left seeding corn, and after performing his mission returned
to his own wife and lodge.
Afterward the bride wife heard her sister singing beside a planted
field: “Is there perhaps anyone who will marry me again? Let him ask
me.” She had not been singing long when Tʻhăʻhyoñʹnĭʻ (Wolf) replied:
“I will marry you if you will accept me.” To this she answered: “If I
marry you, what will be my usual food?” Tʻhăʻhyoñʹnĭʻ replied: “You
shall have meat for your usual food.” Her answer was: “I shall die if I
am compelled to eat that kind of food.”
Thereupon the maiden resumed her singing: “Is there perhaps some one
who will marry me again? Let him ask me to do so.” Nyāʹgwaiʼ (Bear)
answered her: “I will marry you if you will accept me.” The maiden
answered: “If I marry you what will be my usual food?” Nyāʹgwaiʼ said
in reply: “Your usual food will be various kinds of nuts.” She said:
“In the event that I am compelled to eat that kind of food I shall
surely die.”
Again she began to sing: “Is there perhaps anyone who will marry me
again? Let him ask me.” While she sang Neʹogĕⁿʼ (Deer) answered her: “I
will marry you if you will accept me.” The maiden said in reply: “If I
should marry you what would be my usual food?” Neʹogĕⁿʼ replied: “Your
food would be buds and sprouts and the moss growing on trees.” The
maiden’s response was: “In the event that I am compelled to eat that
kind of food I shall surely die.”
After thus refusing each of these proposals of marriage, once again she
began to sing: “Is there perhaps anyone who will again marry me? If
there be one such, let him ask me.” While she sang, expressing the
impulses of her heart, a man named Corn answered her challenge, saying:
“I will marry you if you will accept me, for I know that you are
circumspect in making your selection of a husband.” In reply the maiden
asked: “If I should marry you what shall be my usual food?” Corn
answered: “If you will marry me your food shall be corn; corn shall be
your sustenance.” The maiden replied: “I accept you, and I am thankful
for my good fortune in finding just what I want. For a long time I have
been lonely, for I desired to see a human being, to be in a position to
mingle with mankind.” With these words she ran forward, and throwing
her arms around him fondly embraced him, saying: “I will share with you
your fortune or misfortune, whichever it be, wherever mankind shall
have charge of your welfare and needs, for my grandmother has appointed
me to care for mankind during the time that this earth shall endure. So
it shall be that they shall plant us always in one place. So from one
place you and I together shall depart when the time during which we
shall provide (food) for mankind, as has been appointed for us, shall
expire. We must teach them our songs and dances, so that mankind may
express their gratitude when they shall gather in their harvests of
corn and beans and squashes.”
Continuing, she said to her husband: “We must instruct mankind with
care in this matter, so that they shall do the essential things and
sing the essential songs of the Aʻkoñwiʹʻsĕⁿʼ,[446] (the ceremony of
the Corn dances). The women and the young maidens of both the Father
and the Mother side in beginning this ceremony shall stand on their
respective sides of the fire, forming in orderly lines with the matrons
of their several clans as leaders. One side shall first sing the song
which is in order, and then the other side shall sing that song; then
they shall sing it alternately, while the several leaders in taking the
lead must carry the turtle-shell rattle. It is important that this
shall be done in order, and that the rhythm of the songs be not broken.
When the song has been sung by both sides then the two lines of women
shall encircle the fire and dance around it three times. This shall be
done in the case of each song of the Aʻkoñwiʹʻsĕⁿʼ.
“Now, the words of the essential songs are as follows:
“(a) ‘Coming hither I heard them; I heard them sing and dance the
Aʻkoñwiʹʻsĕⁿʼ.’
“(b) ‘We have now arrived—we who are about to sing and dance the
Aʻkoñwiʹʻsĕⁿʼ.’
“(c) ‘Among living, growing, unplucked flowers I am walking reverently
(silently, slowly).’
“(d) ‘I am now dancing among living, growing, unplucked flowers
(blossoms).’
“(e) ‘We have now returned—we who are corn dancers and singers—we who
are women.’
“(f) ‘You two cousins,[447] do you now get the bark bowl (for sprouting
the seed corn). You two cousins, do you now get the bark bowl.’
“(g) ‘Oh! the berries have ripened. Oh! the berries have ripened—on
stalk and stem.’
“(h) ‘I see (in vision) a beautiful Spring season.
“‘I see a fine field of growing corn.
“‘In the middle of this field of corn there stands a lodge of
bark.
“‘There I see a profusion of drying poles and racks.
“‘Thereon I see fine fat strings of corn hanging.
“‘On these fine fat strings of corn I see rich lively seed
corn.’
“(i) ‘Now, I am walking along. I am walking along giving thanks to the
Life God.’
“These are the essential songs which mankind shall sing.”
123. THE BEAN WOMAN [448]
(A FRAGMENT)
In ancient times a people dwelling near a river bank were startled by
the sound of singing, which came apparently from downstream. The voice
was that of a woman, and tradition says that it was indeed the
Bean-Woman who was singing.
The Bean-Woman sang, it is said, “Who shall marry me again? Let him ask
me in marriage.” The Panther-Man, answering this challenge, said: “I
will marry you if you will accept me for your husband.” Pausing in her
singing, the Bean-Woman asked: “If I marry you what shall be the food
which I shall regularly receive from you to eat?” The Panther-Man
replied: “You shall always have meat in great plenty to eat.” The
Bean-Woman answered: “In that case it is very probable I should die,
for I do not eat that kind of food under any circumstances.”
Thereupon the Bean-Woman resumed her singing: “Who will marry me again?
Is there one who is willing to marry me again? If so, let him ask me.”
Then the Deer-Man approached the Bean-Woman and said: “I will marry you
if you will accept me for your husband.” The Bean-Woman asked him:
“What food will you regularly provide for me to eat?” The Deer-Man
replied: “Browse and buds and the tender bark of trees, for these are
the things which I regularly eat.” The Bean-Woman answered: “Such a
marriage would not bring good fortune to me, because I have never eaten
that kind of food.” So the Deer-Man departed.
Then the Bean-Woman resumed her song: “Is there not some one who is
willing to marry me? If there be, let him ask me.” As she sang she
heard the Bear-Man say to her: “I will marry you if you will accept
me.” Whereupon she asked him: “What kind of food will you regularly
provide for me to eat?” He replied: “I will provide you with nuts of
various kinds, for even now I have many bark receptacles filled with
nuts for food.” The Bean-Woman replied: “In this event I should most
certainly die, for I have never been in the habit of eating that kind
of food; so I can not accept you.”
Without feeling disappointed she resumed her singing: “Is there not
some one who will marry me again? If so, let him ask me.” Then the
Wolf-Man approached her, saying: “I am willing to marry you if you will
accept me.” Once again the Bean-Woman asked: “If I should marry you
what kind of food would you regularly provide for me to eat?” The
Wolf-Man answered: “I will provide you with meat and venison.” At this
the Bean-Woman said with scorn: “It is, indeed, quite proper for you to
offer me meat and venison for food, but I have never had the desire to
eat meat which has been stolen.” Thereupon the Wolf-Man departed.
The Bean-Woman resumed singing, as before: “Is there any one who is
willing to marry me again? If there is, then let him ask me.” Then the
Corn-Man, drawing near, said: “I am willing to marry you if you will
accept me.” In reply she asked: “If I should marry you what will you
give me for my regular food?” The Corn-Man’s answer was: “You shall
have sweet corn to eat at all times.” In reply the Bean-Woman said: “I
pray that it may so come to pass. I am, indeed, thankful for this
offer, for it is a well-known fact that I am in need of it.” When the
Corn-Man had heard her answer, he said to her: “Come to me.” Rushing
forward, she threw her arms around his neck and embraced him, saying:
“This is, indeed, a condition established by Him who sent us, by Him
who created our bodies, beginning with the time when the earth was
new.” They dwelt together contented and happy.
This is the reason that the bean vine is at all times found entwined
around the cornstalk.
124. THE LEGEND OF ONENHA (THE CORN)
The event related in the following legend came to pass in ancient times
in the land inhabited by the Tuscarora; and Corn-Woman herself declared
this event to men.
In that ancient time there lived in that land a man who was alone, and
who had no kindred or friends in that place. He became very ill; so ill
that he was no longer able to leave his mat on the couch. Of course
there was no fire in his abode for he was unable to obtain fuel to keep
a fire burning; besides there was nothing for him to eat. He began to
be very sorrowful, expressing his grief thus: “Verily, I have become
poor and miserable indeed. I am hungry, too, and, perhaps, I shall die
by starvation.”
While he was ill it was usual for him to lie with his head covered.
There came a day when he heard the sound of voices, which he inferred
were those of women. Uncovering his head he listened intently to learn
something about the voices he heard. Then he heard one woman addressing
another: “What do you think of this matter? The man who dwells with us
is very ill; truly he is in a wretched condition, and he lacks care and
attention.” Then he heard the reply: “It is befitting, it would seem,
that we assist him at once to recover his health, for we know that
while he enjoyed good health it was customary for him to respect and
honor us in his travels. This is, indeed, what he was wont to do: In
whatever place he was traveling, on finding along the trail one of our
sisters who had strayed or become lost, and so had become the victim of
want, he would take her up and speak to her words of pity, saying:
‘Thou art in need and in distress; thou art lost on thy way, and there
is no possibility for anyone except me to have mercy on thee.’ Then he
would care for her. For this reason we should now repay him for all
these acts of kindness by aiding him, since now it is he who is
forsaken and in need of care.” The man who was ill now sat up with
uncovered head, thinking, “I shall see them; I shall have a look at the
two women who are conversing.” But he saw no one, and so was
disappointed. For several days he overheard these two women talking,
but he was not able to see any person around him.
There came a night, however, when the ill man had a dream, in which he
saw a woman of low stature but of fine appearance, with beautiful long
hair. In the dream she said to him: “I have been requested to come to
you (do you know it?) to tell you that we will now aid you in your
illness. We desire to have you stop thinking that you are about to die
and that you are poor and wretched because you have no kindred or
friends. Moreover, be of good courage, for you shall be well again
before long, and shall again travel much. This, too, shall come to
pass: A shower of rain shall come, whereupon you must arise and place
some receptacle where the raindrops may fall into it, and all the water
that falls into this receptacle you must drink. This shall suffice to
cure you of your illness. It is we who are making a repayment of an
obligation which is due you from us. We are merely doing our part in
aiding you at this time, because you have so many times had compassion
on us during the long time you have been traveling over the earth. For
it was your wont when you were traveling on whatsoever paths they were,
when you saw lying on the trail ‘Corn,’ ‘a Bean,’ or the ‘Seed of the
Ancient Squash’—we are of course sisters—to take her up and have pity
on her, saying: ‘Thou art lost and forsaken even on the trail.’ It is
for these acts of kindness that we shall now, I say, repay thee.[449]
“Moreover, it shall come to pass that you will hear us when we sing and
dance the Corn dances to give thanks that you are again to travel over
the earth, for such is, indeed, our custom when we are happy.
“Know this, too, that when mankind give attention to us, when we are
born (sprout) out of the earth, and when they till the ground whereon
we stand, we give thanks for this attention. Again, when they form the
hills of earth around us, we also rejoice; then, too, when they enlarge
the hills to accommodate our growing bodies we regularly give thanks by
singing and dancing the Corn dances; and when they pluck the ears of
corn, gather them in heaps in the middle of the field, husk them, and
braid them into osteⁿʼsaʼs (corn-strings), and hang these on frames or
lintels of poles, we also give thanks in like manner; and as soon as
these strings have dried and they bring us into the lodges we give
thanks and rejoice by singing and dancing Corn dances.
“Now, I bid you do this. Tell all human beings whom you shall meet that
they, too, must sing and dance the Corn dances when they wish to
express their thanksgiving at the time they are pleased to see us come
to maturity again; and this is the reason that they must perform this
ceremony. It is we, of course, who continue to assist you by furnishing
that on which you human beings subsist. So be of good courage and
cherish my words.”
Then the ill man awoke and verily he saw a rainstorm on the horizon
which was approaching. He arose, and taking a bark bowl he set it
outside of the lodge where the raindrops would fall into it. In a short
time it began to rain and the raindrops soon filled the bowl. He
proceeded at once to drink the rain water and began to recover his
health.
The following night as he lay on his couch he heard the voices of women
singing. He noticed that there had come on the drying poles in the
lodge several strings of ears of corn and further that these strings
swayed slightly to and fro, and that the singing proceeded from the
grains of corn, in the guise of women, on the ears. Some of the words
employed in these songs were: “Among the Flowers I am moving
reverently,” “Among the Flowers I am singing and dancing;” and the
women’s voices he heard saying: “The Fruit or Berries are ripe, the
Fruit or Berries are ripe,” and many other songs of the Corn dances.
Thereafter the sick man rapidly regained his wonted health and again
traveled over the earth.
In time the man returned to his own people and related to them all his
experiences, and he sang for them the songs that he had heard sung by
the Corn women. It was at this time that the Council of Ancients—the
Elders—of the people said publicly: “We are indeed fortunate to learn
of this matter; and we must regularly perform this ceremony in the time
to come.”
Not long after this event the man who had been ill again heard the
singing of the Corn women; he heard them singing in the place where the
corn had been planted. Moreover, he saw them—a great company of Corn
people, Bean people, and Squash people, and so far as he could see they
were in all respects perfect human beings. They danced in a slow,
gentle manner in imitation of the waving of the corn stalks as they
stand in the ground. Women and girls took part in the dance.
The man again heard all the songs and so learned them. At once he told
his people what he had seen and heard. Again the Council of Ancients
said: “We must perform this ceremony, too, for this is part and parcel
of the other.”
From this time the Corn dances and Corn songs were known and used, and
these are the songs that are in use at this day on the anniversaries of
the various seasons, beginning with the time the people plant the corn
grains and ending when the strings of ears of corn are stored in the
lodges—the corn harvest. This ceremony is called Goñdăʻgoñwiʹsas.
125. THE ORIGIN OF WHITE CORN, OR KANĔÑHAGĔÑÄT
In ancient times there lived a community of people at the foot of a
very high, steep, and rugged cliff. There came a day when they heard
the plaintive singing of a woman, who seemed to be on the top of this
almost inaccessible mountain. The mysterious woman directed the words
of her songs to a very old but highly respected man of this small
community. The burden of the songs was expressed by the words: “Oh!
kinsman of my father’s brother, come up here; I indeed desire greatly
to become your wife.” These words gave much anxiety to the people who
heard them, but the old man paid no attention to them.
The woman, seemingly on the mountain top, continued to sing daily,
however, and finally some of the people urged the old man to go up to
the summit to learn the designs of the persistent singer. But he
excused himself, saying: “The mountain is so steep and rugged, and I am
now become so aged that I do not feel able to make the attempt to climb
its side.”
But the woman on the height, continuing her singing from day to day,
and the anxiety of the people becoming very marked, the chiefs of the
community in council finally requested the old man, whom they highly
respected, to go to the mountain top to unravel, if possible, the
meaning of the mysterious singing. They represented to him the
importance of this mission, since the persistent singing might have
some relation to the welfare of the community at large.
After long meditation he replied to the request of the council, “Oh, my
chiefs! at your request I will go to the mountain top to learn, if it
be possible, the meaning of this woman’s singing.”
Having made the necessary preparations the old man started, and after
overcoming many difficulties he finally reached the summit of the
mountain. There he saw a young, fine-looking woman, who stood not far
from the brink of the cliff. She had been standing in that position
while he was painfully wending his way up the mountain side and urged
him to have patience and courage to persist in his attempt to climb the
mountain. Seeing that he had reached the top of the mountain, the young
woman beckoned him to her side, at the same time saying: “Do thou come
to me, Oh, my friend! I desire to share my mat with thee.” Drawing near
to the young woman, the aged man said kindly to her: “I am
unfortunately past the age when it might have been in my power to
comply with your request.” But the young woman replied: “Fear not, but
draw near me. I will endow thee with the power which will enable thee
to comply with my desire. So come close to me. Now, mark my words and
carefully cherish them. Out of the ground at the spot whereon I have
lain a plant shall sprout and grow. Care tenderly for this, for it
shall be a boon to your people, a chief source of food to them; and it
shall be called Kanĕñhagĕñät; that is to say, White Corn. In five days
from now you must return to care for what you will find growing out of
the ground, as I have already told you. As for me, I shall die.” The
aged man drew near the woman and embraced her. Time passed and he
swooned. When he finally recovered his senses he discovered that the
young woman had disappeared—vanished into thin air—and he believed that
he had embraced a vision. Arising from the ground, he returned to his
people at the foot of the mountain.
Remembering the words of the young woman to the effect that he must
return to the mountain top to obtain a mysterious plant, at the end of
five days the old man returned to the summit. There he found on the
spot whereon the young woman had lain a growing corn plant. He
carefully pruned away from it all weeds and placed rich, fine earth
around its rootlets, and also watered it from a neighboring spring.
Taking great delight in caring for this corn plant, the aged man came
frequently to the mountain top to attend to it. In course of time it
had grown to maturity, bearing three ripened ears of white corn. These
he carefully husked and carried back to his lodge. In the spring he
assembled all the people of the community and divided the corn among
them equally, a few grains to each family; and he instructed them in
the method of planting and caring for the corn, telling them that in
time it would become one of their staple food plants. Such is, it is
said, the manner in which the white corn originated among the
Tuscarora, who have generously shared the seed with neighboring tribes
and kindred.
126. THE ORIGIN OF THE PORCUPINE PEOPLE OR CLAN [450]
In ancient times, it is said, a people dwelling in a certain country,
having become very numerous, decided to divide into equal parts their
hunting grounds and the game animals living on them. This division of
lands took place at a public assembly.
It was solemnly agreed that all persons should respect the boundary
marks separating their own lands from those of their neighbors; that no
person should cross such boundary lines for the purpose of hunting game
animals; and that any person violating this agreement would be guilty
of trespass. The part assigned to every family (ohwachira) was, indeed,
very large, being considered sufficiently extensive to provide
sustenance for that family. It was still further agreed that when the
trespass should be discovered the aggrieved people might, after
learning all the facts in the case, exterminate the family of the
transgressor, unless a suitable expiatory recompense were offered and
accepted from such clan and family. This compact was solemnly kept for
many years and the several contracting clans or peoples lived in great
harmony.
There came a day, however, when a hunter from one of these neighboring
clans deliberately violated the compact of his clan with their
neighbors by crossing the boundary line into the territory of an
adjoining people and there killing some game animal. His act, which was
soon discovered, led to a long and bloody war between the two families,
resulting in the virtual extermination of the clan of the offender.
Only one man escaped the vengeance of the offended family. He saved
himself by flight from his home and succeeded in avoiding his pursuers
by dropping into a deep cavern in a rocky cliff far from his land.
Having passed through the entrance of the cavern, the man saw that the
passage led to a very large open space, which he found to be well
lighted. In the center of a spacious field he saw a lodge, which
attracted his attention. While watching for some sign of life in the
lodge, he was gratified to see a woman emerge therefrom and then
reenter.
Going back into the passageway to the cavern, the man kept a close
watch on the lodge. In a short time another woman came out, followed by
the woman he had first seen. The two walked splay-footed toward the
place where the fugitive had concealed himself. On reaching the opening
of the cavern they stopped, and one said to the other: “Let us go back
home, for I smell the smoke of a fire.” Thereupon the two started back
down from the entrance. So they quickly returned to the lodge and at
once reentered it. Shortly afterward a man came out of the lodge. He
shook himself as a dog shakes himself after coming up out of the water,
and it seemed to the fugitive that the place became lighter.[450a] The
man came directly to the mouth of the cavern and then returned to the
lodge. He told the women that the scent in the entrance was not that of
smoke but of a human being.
Again the two women came forth, this time to find the source of the
human odor that scented the cavern’s mouth. They were not long in
discovering the man, who had seated himself near the entrance.
Approaching him, the elder woman said: “Whence have you come, Human
Being?” In reply the man said: “I came in here to conceal myself from
my enemies. All my people have been killed in a day.” The elder woman
answered: “We invite you to our home. Will you not come home with us?”
The man replied: “I willingly accept your invitation. I will go home
with you. Let us start now.”
In a short time they reached the lodge, and on entering it the brother
of the two women greeted the man, saying: “Be of good cheer. Fear not.
No harm will come to you. You shall not suffer any want. You shall
marry my elder sister, and there is plenty of food in this lodge and in
our store-cache.” The fugitive was greatly delighted with his
reception, and he informed the man that he agreed to the proposals made
to him by his host, and he took up his abode there with these three
people.
The bridegroom was indeed very happy, for he kept saying: “I am very
happy, for my wife loves me. I am indeed glad to be here in this place
with you.” It was not long before he and his loving wife were blessed
with an infant son. They all lived in comfort and amity.
When the man had lived in this place about 15 years and had become the
father of a number of interesting children, his brother-in-law one day
said to him: “The time has now arrived when you should return to the
place whence you fled to this cavern home; and when you depart you
should take back with you your wife and your children. They are now
your own people, although they are of our blood too.”
After making the necessary preparations by packing up their small
belongings, the man with his wife and children bade their kindred
farewell and started for their future home. Passing through the mouth
of the cavern they emerged into a dense forest of large trees, in which
there were here and there bare tracts. In this region the husband and
father found much game, consisting of deer, bear, wild turkeys,
partridges, quail, rabbits, elk, moose, and many other animals which
served as food. When they had erected a camp in a sheltered place in
the forest the father spent his time in hunting to support his family.
As he went from place to place through the forest he met a number of
other hunters, whom he invited to visit his camp. These visitors
brought their wives along to see the newcomers. They were greatly
surprised to find that the wife and the children spoke a strange
language, which was not understood by any of the visitors, although
easily comprehended by the husband. At last one of the visitors asked:
“Of what clan are you?” directing his question to the wife of the host.
The host replied for her: “She is of the Porcupine clan of the Wañʹdat
tribe. I am of the Wañʹdat tribe, too.” After a long silence one of the
visitors said: “How did you receive such a name?” The host replied,
“The Porcupines gave me that name.” Then the visitors exclaimed: “We
have found a new people, who are called Wañʹdat, and we must love them
as we do our own peoples and tribes. Let us greet them as our friends.”
From this time the family of the Porcupine clan of the Wañʹdat had many
friends and before a long time had passed they had become very
numerous. The children of the women were called the Porcupine people.
Their numbers made them powerful and influential. They were well fed
and strong physically. They were fine hunters, knowing well where to
find game of all kinds, where to gather nuts of all edible kinds and
various kinds of berries and small fruits, and they knew also just
where the wild pigeons had their roosts.
They noted the whereabouts of these places, and when the season was
fully come their leaders and chiefs would call to their people in a
loud voice: “Come! Let us go to feed ourselves abundantly where the
wild pigeons have now prepared their roosts for the purpose of
breeding.” At this time the wild pigeons were so numerous that many
flocks stretched over large tracts of territory, darkening the light of
the sun and making with their wings a loud rushing sound resembling
that of an approaching tornado. Giving heed to the call of their
leaders, the people would make the necessary preparations to go to the
roosts of the wild pigeons. Having reached the designated place, the
people quickly put up temporary camps and then went out at once to kill
the squabs, which they brought to their lodges to broil and eat with
boiled corn bread and corn soup. All were delighted with the bounty of
nature—the gift of the Master of Life.
Having thus spent part of the summer killing wild pigeons, after the
birds had departed, a leader among the people would say: “Oh! friends,
cousins, and kindred, the deer have gone in this direction and are now
fat and in good condition to be killed for food and for their skins.
Let us then decamp now and go to the place where they may be found. Up
and let us be going. Let us lose no time in delay.” So leaving the
grounds of the pigeon roost early in the autumn, they would journey to
the lands where the deer were accustomed to feed and to raise their
young. There they would erect temporary camps and make ready for the
deer hunt. Then the good hunters led out small parties in quest of the
deer and in this manner usually succeeded in killing large numbers of
them. The venison they dried for their winter supply of food, and the
skins they tanned into fine buckskin for leggings and moccasins and
other garments; and so these people were warm and contented during the
winter months. They shot the deer with bows and arrows and caught some
with traps, in the setting of which they were adepts. Thus they made
the natural food supply of their home country contribute to their
welfare and comfort, and being well fed they were strong, alert, and
resourceful.
These people were very observant of the phases and phenomena of nature,
and had signs by which to foreknow coming events. Should they wish to
know the degree of the cold of an approaching winter they would watch
carefully the muskrats as they prepared their winter quarters. If the
lining of the winter home of the animal was made thin the people would
conclude that the coming winter would be mild; but if thick, that it
would be severe.
Another sign from which they judged the severity of an approaching
winter was the condition of the deerskins which they secured. If these
were thin and if the hair on them was short and not close, the people
would conclude that the coming winter would be mild. If the people saw
the bears making their winter quarters of leaves early in the autumn
they would infer that the approaching winter would be very severe.
If much hail fell during the autumn and winter the people concluded
that there would be much fruit and many nuts the coming season.
Again, should a person traveling through the forest lose his way he
would notice on which side of a tall straight tree trunk moss was
growing. Assuming this to be the north side he would thus get his
bearings.
Should a person see a rock damp from the humidity in the air he would
forecast rain for the following day.
If a person observed wild ducks and wild geese disporting themselves
actively in the water he would anticipate showers for three days.
The foregoing are some of the signs and omens which the Porcupine clan
taught to their neighbors, and through these they were able to forecast
coming events with great success. These things made the Porcupine clan
of the Wañʹdat tribe noted for wisdom and foresight.
127. THE ORIGIN OF THE BEAR SONGS AND DANCES
Concerning the origin of the Bear songs and dances the following legend
is told by our ancestors, said a Seneca shaman. This is what took place
when these songs and dances became manifest on their human side, or
rather, became manifest in their relation to human beings in their
quest of happiness.
In the past, it is said, a boy was kidnaped from a temporary camp of
some hunters. It happened in this manner. A woman of the hunting party
was left alone at the camp while the hunters were out in the forest for
the day; it was her duty to keep the fire and to have food cooked when
the hunters returned in the evening. The woman had a child, a boy, who
was then nearly 2 years of age. The little fellow played outside of the
lodge while his mother was busy around the fire or with her other
duties inside of the lodge, feeling that her child could take care of
himself in the meantime.
One day, when the men had gone on their usual hunting trips in the
forest, the woman fell asleep while the child was outside of the lodge
playing by himself. Suddenly he was surprised to see a strange man
coming toward him. This man, whom the child did not know, came directly
to the place where he was at play. When he reached the child he said:
“My child, I have come for you. You shall go with me to our lodge. My
children desire that you should visit us, and you and they shall play
together regularly. The reason for this is that you are entirely alone,
and they will amuse you so that your mind will be contented.” Then they
two started away. They arrived at the lodge of the strange man, where
they found two small boys of the same size who lived there. On entering
the lodge the father said: “I have now brought here the person whom you
two for a long time have desired me to bring to you, so now your wish
has been fulfilled. You two must love and be kind to him; you must
never hurt him; you two must not annoy or vex him; let there be peace
and pleasantness during the time that he shall be on a visit to us. So,
whatever happens, be kind to him.”
The three children went around from place to place and played together.
The visiting boy observed carefully all that he saw in and about the
lodge. He saw what these people were accustomed to eat; that they lived
on various kinds of nuts, on honey, and on huckleberries, mulberries,
and various other kinds of berries. All these things he understood. He
saw, too, that they had plenty of corn, on which they lived, as well as
on the berries and honey and nuts.
The visiting boy had been there for some time when it became the custom
for him to accompany the other two children around from place to place;
he would accompany them when they went out to seek for nuts. He learned
that they prized the chestnut above all other kinds of nuts; that next
to these they highly prized honey; and next to this they prized
huckleberries and mulberries. It was the custom of these people in
gathering these things to work independently to get for themselves as
much of these articles of food as was possible when they were in
season.
After the lapse of many days spent thus the headman of this lodge, who
had brought the child there, said to his little guest: “Now I am about
to tell you something. You must tell the human beings when you have
returned to your home what I will now reveal to you as our wishes. You
shall tell them that we have strong desires that there might be found a
way by which we could be enabled to give aid to mankind whenever they
may be forced into a critical situation by means of sickness, which is
wont to befall mankind. You shall know that we have observed in the
past that disease travels about from place to place; and it comes to
pass, as we have observed, that when it has selected its victim this
person at once realizes that he has pains in a certain part of the
body. It is well known that if they would remember to call on us we
certainly have the power to cause this evil thing to turn aside so that
it shall pass on one side or the other of the person, in such manner
that the person will not become very ill and he will soon recover his
usual health.
“Now look at what belongs to us and which it is our custom to use.
Examine this carefully. It is this that we use when it so happens that
a man while out hunting takes a course directly toward the place in
which we abide. This object is held up before us, and the hunter is
turned away from us.”
The young child, on looking at the object, saw a forked wooden rod in
the hands of the strange man. Thereupon the man said to the child:
“This is the way in which I regularly use this thing.” So saying, he
held the forked rod up before himself, and continued: “The support of
the forks must point toward the hunter, and as he follows the direction
of the rod he is bound to pass on one or the other side of the place in
which we abide. As he passes I guide the rod around past my side toward
the rear of our position. Thus we ward off the hunter from finding and
injuring us.
“It is this thing we shall use in giving aid to mankind in their
necessities if they will only appeal to us to aid them, and this is the
way in which we shall proceed to do so. In the first place, when the
people desire to make their appeal to us they shall prepare a drink
composed of huckleberries and of mulberries, into which they shall put
maple sugar. When they have prepared this drink they shall collect
native tobacco, which they shall cast upon the fire, at the same time
saying: ‘Oh, you Bears! do you now partake of this native
tobacco—tobacco which our Creator has provided for us, and with which
He intended that mankind should support their prayers to Him, no matter
to what object of His creation they wished to direct their appeals.’
So, now, you Bears, who move from place to place in the forest, and all
with whom you are united in bonds of mutual aid, we ask you to assist
in bringing about such conditions that we shall think in peace, and
that those who are being called away by death may recover health and
contentment of mind.
“Now the drink of berry juices has been prepared and sweetened with
maple sugar—the drink which you Bears so highly prize; and now mankind
are about to assume your bodily forms, and they will then touch you in
making their appeals to you. Then one shall cast native tobacco on the
fire, at the same time saying, ‘Now, be it known that there shall begin
the ceremony which is of you, Bears.’ Then the people shall be
exsufflated [451] by the masters of ceremony; and the people shall take
a drink of the berry beverage, and in taking it each person shall say,
‘I give thanks unto you severally, you Bears.’ This is all that is
necessary to be done. Then, verily, the duty devolves upon us to give
aid to mankind. But when we are engaged in giving the aid we shall not
be seen by mankind. Moreover, this shall be done. You must take back
with you the songs which we are accustomed to use when we wish to enjoy
ourselves in our dances.”
Thereupon, the strange man began to sing the songs, and these songs the
child learned and brought back with him to his own lodge. In the songs
the singer employs these words: “No matter what a human being may
desire to do this shall accomplish his desire.” “I know all the virtues
of the things that grow on plants on the earth.” These are the words of
the songs which the child heard the strange man sing to him.
This is what took place in the lodge from which the child was stolen
when the mother of the child awoke from her sleep. Finding that the boy
was missing, she hunted for him everywhere. When the men returned from
hunting they at once joined the mother in searching for the lost boy,
but they failed to find him. They sought for him even to the banks of a
river which flowed at some distance from the lodge; they even sought
for the tracks of the boy on both sides of the river. Then, boarding
canoes, they went up and down the river to learn if possible whether
the child had been drowned or not, but they were unable to find any
trace of him in the water. Next they turned their attention to the
neighboring forest, which they thoroughly searched, but they did not
find him.
By this time they were much troubled in mind because of the child who
was lost, indeed. Then the father of the child went out to hunt, and
when he returned he said to his wife: “It is, perhaps, the proper thing
for us to prepare a ‘reunion’ feast; for it seems true that our child
has perished.” Thereupon the mother set to work preparing the food.
When it was ready she placed it on the ground in the customary place
for eating, and they two sat down to eat. Taking a portion of the food
they were eating and setting it aside, the mother said: “As respects
this food thy and my child does now become its owner and disposer.”
Thus they finished their feast of “reunion of the living.”
After the lapse of some time the mother said to her husband: “Perhaps
we two should now leave for our home, going back to our own people,
because it is true that I am not at peace in my mind on account of what
has happened to us.” The husband consented to her proposition, and they
packed their meat and their small belongings and, boarding a canoe,
started for their home. After their arrival at home the news of what
happened to them spread among their people. After some days the mother
of the lost child said to her husband: “Is it not perhaps a good thing
for us to go back to the place in which our child was lost? It is now
nearing the anniversary of the disappearance of our dear child, and it
seems good that we two should be there when that time shall come again,
so that we may prepare food there again just as we did when he was
still with us.” Her husband replied: “Let it be done as you desire. I
am willing to go.”
After making their usual preparations they again started for their
hunting grounds. They went most of the way by canoe. At last they
reached the place where they had encamped when their child was lost,
and they kindled their fire in the same place again. Then the father
went out to hunt as usual.
One day the mother said: “The day has now come which is the anniversary
of the loss of our child. We two shall now have a feast of the ‘reunion
of the living,’ and we shall set aside a portion for our lost child;
and it shall come to pass just as if he were present with us.” So, as
soon as the food was ready, she set it on the ground in the usual place
and they two began to eat. She also took a portion of the food and,
setting it aside, said: “This food which I have set aside I give to my
child.” When they had finished this meal they gave thanks for life and
for the food which nature supplied to them.
Then the mother of the lost child said: “Now, there is nothing for us
to do but to start for our home. We will go back to the place where
dwell our own people. We will do this because this place is so
unpleasant, for indeed I can do nothing but think about the misfortune
which befell us two in the days which have past.” Her husband, agreeing
with her, said: “I see no reason why that, too, may not be done, for I,
too, am in the same frame of mind as you are. My thoughts are not at
all pleasant, so we will not remain here any longer.”
At that time they left the hunting camp and started for home, where
they soon arrived by canoe and a short land journey. On their way the
woman took her seat in the bow of the canoe, while the husband sat in
the stern and paddled. The woman wistfully viewed the banks of the
river as they moved along rapidly. When they had gone quite a distance
the woman noticed a mountain which stood on one side of the river, and
which was covered with a dense growth of small shrubs and undergrowth.
As she watched this mountain top she was surprised and agitated to see
her lost child walking there at the edge of the dense undergrowth. At
once recognizing him, she sprang up in the canoe, frantically
exclaiming, “Oh! I see my and thy child again. Look, there he is
walking along.” The father, too, recognized their son whom they mourned
as dead and hastened to bring the canoe to the river bank at the point
nearest to the place where the child had been seen. As soon as the
canoe reached the land they both alighted. The father then went
directly toward the child, who apparently awaited them; the mother was
following at her husband’s heels. But as they approached him the child
fled away into the shrubbery, and they pursued him. The father had some
difficulty in overtaking him. When the father had caught him the mother
came up to them. Then the delighted parents began to ask the child
questions, but he did not give any answer. He did not seem to be able
to make a reply, and they saw that the child was too much frightened to
be able to understand them. So the father lifted him in his arms and
carried him back to the canoe. They saw that his face and hands and
feet were all still natural in appearance, but that the other parts of
his body were covered with fine fur; in this respect he was just like a
bear. Again boarding the canoe and hastening home, they soon arrived
among their people.
After they had reached their home lodge the children of their neighbors
came to visit the newcomer, and they began to play together. At first
it was quite impossible for the recovered child to converse with the
other children; it was a long time before he was again able to talk
even a little. Gradually, however, he became able to carry on an
extended conversation with them.
There soon came a time when he voluntarily began to relate to his
father and mother the circumstances under which he had been lost to
them. He told them that a strange man had carried him away to his home.
The child carefully told what things he had seen that were strange to
him, what he had seen when he had traveled around with the strange
people, and what these people used for food. He said that the strange
man who had taken him away had instructed him to carry back a message
which he should relate in detail to his people. This gave all that was
necessary to enable them to perform the ceremony of the Bears, and he
also taught the people all the songs of the Bears, which he had been
taught by the Bear people expressly to be taught in turn to the people
of the stolen child.
The child told the people that he had lived with the Bear people during
the time he had been in captivity. He told the people the correct use
of the forked rod of wood in turning away from the people the course of
disease, by means of which the Bear people were able usually to cause
the hunter to pass by the hiding place of bears, for which he might be
on the hunt.
It was in this manner that the Bear ceremony was revealed to mankind,
so that it is possible for them to perform it. Such is the legend of
the origin of the Bear ceremony, as it is called.
128. THE ORIGIN OF THE PIGEON SONGS AND DANCES
This is the manner in which the origin of the Pigeon songs and dances
was disclosed to human beings in ancient times. These birds had formed
a nesting place, or one might say more properly that they had assembled
at a so-called pigeon roost.
Having received knowledge of this fortunate circumstance a great number
of men and women with their children, starting from their villages,
went to the place where the pigeons had formed their roost. In time
these people arrived at their rendezvous and they at once began to
build their temporary camps according to their ohwachiras and clans and
kindreds.
There went with this concourse of people a man who had just reached the
age of puberty and who had no evil habits. He was a very good person.
Then it came to pass that they began to travel from place to place
through the roost to kill such pigeons as they needed. At this time the
upright young man heard the tumult arising from the cries of the
pigeons holding converse together and he also saw the pigeons in vast
numbers wheeling in circles.
Suddenly he was greatly surprised to see flying among the pigeons one
white in color as to its body. He watched it for a moment flying in
circles, when, leaving the others, the white pigeon came flying toward
the place where the upright young man was standing and alighted very
near to him. At once the pigeon began to speak, saying: “Be it known to
you that we have selected you to tell your people what it is we desire
the most, what it is we most need. You must tell your chief that we do
not like to have so many among you who are in this place who do not
remember Him who has created us. There are indeed many whose thoughts
are only of evil things which they desire to do to please themselves.
We wish that those among you who have these thoughts should put away
evil longings and purposes, and we believe that whoever does not do so
will suffer some grave misfortune.
“We further wish you and your people to join with us as a custom in
offering thanksgivings to Him who created us when each day shall return
to us, and also when each evening comes upon us. We think it is
profitable that this should come to pass as I have suggested. You see
us when the morning comes making a great tumult, and you hear us all
talking while we circle around the place in which we have our roost.
The reason for this action is the giving of thanks. We are offering
thanksgivings to Him who has created our bodies. In the evening this
again takes place; we again offer up thanksgivings to Him; and you see
us then making circles around our roosting place, and there is the
accompaniment of sound and the confusion of voices which you hear. Now,
know this: We are performing the ceremony of the dance, and we are all
singing. This signifies that we are happy; we are full of joy.
“We have no remonstrance to make against your coming to this place
seeking to obtain the young growing persons of those whose bodies are
such as ours. Indeed, you wish that these shall become a source of
contentment and satisfaction—these, the offspring of the pigeons. So it
is that we have none but the kindest of feelings toward you in this
pursuit of your desires. You must know, too, that He who created our
bodies has ordained that this (flesh) shall be for the welfare and
contentment of human beings dwelling on the earth.
“You must know further that I, on whom you are looking, I, who am
speaking to you, am indeed the oldest person among my people, and it is
on account of my great age that they have chosen me to come to you to
tell you our wishes and to teach you our songs. You, too, are able to
sing them. It is needful that you shall enjoy yourselves; that you
shall dance in order to do this; and that all your people who are here
shall take part. In dancing you shall make circuits around the places
where you have kindled your fires. When you have finished the singing
and the dancing you shall go with your chief to make an offering of
tobacco at the very border of our encampment, where you two shall stand
to perform this ceremony. When you have kindled a fire you shall cast
native tobacco thereon, and while thus occupied you must pray our
Creator to permit you and your people to pass your period of sojourn
here in health and in prosperity. At that time your chief, too, shall
cast something on the fire—things of which you make daily use, and
these objects shall become the prayer (the word) [452] or message of
the people. Furthermore, we together, your and my people, must unite in
the performance of this ceremony, and we must also be of one accord
when we make this prayer and request of the Creator of our bodies. Now
it is for you to return to your people and tell them fully what I have
said to you. This is what I have to say.”
Then the upright young man replied to his pigeon friend: “Your
proposition is agreeable to me, and I will fulfill my duty in the
matter by telling my people all that you have said to me.”
Without further speaking the white pigeon mounted in the air and flew
away. The young man, while watching it fly off, saw a large number of
pigeons moving in a circle as they flew along; and he heard the birds
sing, making a very loud sound, a tumult of voices. He listened very
attentively for a long time and finally learned the songs which the
pigeons were so loudly singing. Then he returned to his lodge and his
own fireside.
At once he related in every detail all that the white pigeon had said
to him. A messenger was sent for the chief of his clan, and when he
arrived the upright young man again repeated all that the white pigeon
had said to him as to the duties of the people who were there to hunt
for squabs. When the chief had heard in great detail all that the young
man reported he at once said: “Let this be done at once by us as has
been proposed by the white pigeon. Let some one be detailed to make a
collection of offerings, and then we shall proceed with the remainder
of the ceremony.” Certain headmen were directed to make the collection
of offerings. Going from lodge to lodge, they made a collection of
various articles presented to them as offerings in the ceremony. Some
gave wristlets, some bracelets, some necklaces, while others
contributed articles of dress, moccasins, and tobacco of the native
variety. When they had visited all the lodges they returned to the
lodge of the upright young man, where he and their chief awaited them.
After they had properly arranged the offerings the chief said: “Let us
now start; we will go toward the place whereon borders the pigeon roost
or nesting place.” Then they two started, the chief and the upright
young man. When they had reached the border of the pigeon roost they
kindled there a very small fire, and the young man made an offering of
native tobacco by casting it into the fire, at the same time asking the
Creator for the health and welfare and contentment of all the people
while they were at that place. His prayer was long and earnest, and
when he ceased his invocation the chief stepped forward to begin his
prayer. Bringing all the articles which had been offered and standing
before the fire, he said in prayer: “Thou who hast created our bodies,
here lie all those things by which we support our message (by which we
support its head), all the words of our prayer. We offer these to Thee.
Accept them as a testimony of our faith.” Then he laid all the objects
which he had brought near the fire. Thereupon the two men returned to
the lodge of the upright young man.
When there they went at once from lodge to lodge to call a council of
the people. As soon as the people had come together and had seated
themselves according to their families and their clans the chief arose
and addressed them. He urged them to repent of their evil deeds through
self-condemnation and to offer up thanksgivings to their Creator in the
morning and also in the evening; he said to them that this custom
should continue forever, as it would bring health and prosperity and
happiness to all those who practiced it. When he had finished his
address on the need of observing faithfully the things which had been
taught them by the Pigeon people, he said: “Now let us severally give
thanksgivings to the Creator of our bodies, and, moreover, we will
dance to the songs of the Pigeon people. Every person should take part
in this ceremony.”
Thereupon the upright young man and the chief took their stations at
the head of the line of dancers. When all were in line and ready the
young man began to sing the songs of the pigeons, and all danced,
following the leaders. In dancing they made a circuit of the lodges,
moving slowly to the rhythm of the songs as they turned from the right
toward the left. When the young man had sung all the songs the head of
the line had reached the point of departure.
Then the chief, addressing the people, said: “We have now, indeed,
performed this ceremony as it has been taught to us by the people of
the pigeons; and when we shall depart from this place we must take back
with us this ceremony, which will be of great benefit to us. We have
learned these songs here from a superior people, and so we must cherish
this ceremony. We have learned, too, that in dancing we must always
make the circuit of the fires in one certain direction, namely, from
the right toward the left. The reason for this is that you use your
right hands either to seize or to release whatever you wish, so it is
necessary that the right side at all times be on the outside of the
circle of dancers, and that the part of the body in which lies our life
shall at all times be on the inside of the line of dancers. Let us now
make ready to start for our homes.” With loud shouts of approval and of
exuberance of joy the dancers returned to their lodges to make
preparations to depart for their homes.
129. THE LEGEND OF HAHADODAGWATʻHA
Once there dwelt together a brother and his younger sister in a lodge.
The brother had a rich suit of hair, half of which was red and the
other half black. It was the daily occupation of the brother to go out
hunting, and the younger sister was contented. They lived thus in peace
for a long time.
One morning the brother went out as usual to hunt. He had not been gone
long when seemingly he returned, laughing and looking at his younger
sister, it is said. He took a seat by her side as she sat on her bed
and embraced her, whereupon she said to him: “What has happened to
you?” He made no reply but attempted to throw her backward on the bed
while he tickled her. At this she exclaimed: “You are abusing me; you
have never before acted in this manner;” and she struggled with him as
he continued to grapple with her, until at last he went out of the
lodge.
Not long after this episode her brother entered the lodge. Having been
injured, she was weeping. Her brother said to her: “What has happened
to you? Are you, perhaps, ill?” She made no reply and would not give
him any food. Then she spoke to him, saying: “It is, indeed, an awful
thing, the manner in which you have abused me, your own sister.” He
answered: “What have I done to you?” She replied: “You abused me and
tickled me, and desired to throw me on my back. This is the reason why
my mind is troubled.” Answering, he said: “Not in the least could I
abuse you, for I have too much compassion for you.” But she did not
believe him. Then he continued, saying, “Now: it is, perhaps, my friend
who has visited you and who looks exactly like me, having hair like
mine, of which half is red.” Then she said: “That is not true; at all
events, it was you who came into the lodge.” Thereupon he added: “My
friend made this visit, because you have now arrived at womanhood. Not
far away stands the lodge where mother and son live; the son is my
friend.” She told him that she would not believe a thing he had said to
her. He answered that whatever happened to him happened also to his
friend.
The brother himself warmed up some food and ate his meal. In the
morning his sister would not arise, for she was still very angry with
him; so he himself prepared his morning meal and ate it. When he had
finished eating it he went out to hunt. Before going, he said to his
sister: “Do not think hard of the conduct of my friend, for he only
desires to marry you.”
Just after the brother had left he (as she supposed) returned and
seized her as she was walking along, and they struggled desperately in
the lodge. She succeeded in scratching him in the face, whereupon he
left the lodge and fled.
When the sun was nearly set her brother returned to the lodge. He said
to his sister: “Oh, my younger sister! I fell among thorns and
briers—that is why I am all scratched up.” She was indeed astonished at
what he had told her, for had she not herself scratched him in the
face? So she replied: “I for my part can not believe what you say.”
Then she began as usual to weep.