As the children whose ancestors came from Europe have stories about
the heroes who killed wicked and cruel monsters--like Jack the Giant
Killer, for example--so the Indian children hear stories about
persons who had magic power and who went about the world destroying
those who treated cruelly or killed the Indians of the camps. Such a
hero was K[)u]t-o-y[)i]s´, and this is how he came to be alive and
to travel about from place to place, helping the people and
destroying their enemies.
It was long, long ago, down where Two Medicine and Badger Rivers
come together, that an old man lived with his wife and three
daughters. One day there came to his camp a young man, good-looking,
a good hunter, and brave. He stayed in the camp for some time, and
whenever he went hunting he killed game and brought in great loads
of meat.
All this time the old man was watching him, for he said in his
heart, "This seems a good young man and a good hunter. Perhaps I
will give him my daughters for wives, and then he will stay here and
help me always."
After a time the old man decided to do this, and he gave the young
man his daughters; and because these three were his only children he
gave his son-in-law his dogs and all his property, and for himself
and his wife he kept only a little lodge. The young man's wives
tanned plenty of cow skins and made a big fine lodge, and in this
the son-in-law lived with his wives.
For some time after this the son-in-law was very good and kind to
the old people. When he killed any animal he gave them part of the
meat, and gave them skins which his mother-in-law tanned for robes
or for clothing.
As time went on the son-in-law began to grow stingy, and pretty soon
he gave nothing to his father-in-law's lodge, but kept everything
for his own.
Now, the son-in-law was a person of much mysterious power, and he
kept the buffalo hidden under a big log-jam in the river. Whenever
he needed food and wished to kill anything, he would take his
father-in-law with him to help. He would send the old man out to
stamp on the log-jam and frighten the buffalo, and when they ran out
from under it the young man would shoot one or two with his arrows,
never killing more than he needed. But often he gave the old people
nothing at all to eat. They were hungry all the time, and at length
they began to grow thin and weak.
One morning early the young man asked his father-in-law to come and
hunt with him. They went to the log-jam and the old man drove out
the buffalo and his son-in-law killed a fat buffalo cow. Then he
said to his father-in-law, "Hurry back now to the camp and tell your
daughters to come and carry home the meat, and then you can have
something to eat." The old man set out for the camp, thinking, as he
walked along, "Now, at last, my son-in-law has taken pity on me; he
will give me some of this meat."
When he returned with his daughters they skinned the cow and cut it
up and, carrying it, went home. The young man had his wives leave
the meat at his own lodge and told his father-in-law to go home. He
did not give him even a little piece of the meat. The two older
daughters gave their parents nothing to eat, but sometimes the
youngest one had pity on them and took a piece of meat and, when she
could, threw it into the lodge to the old people. The son-in-law had
told his wives not to give the old people anything to eat. Except
for the good heart of the youngest daughter they would have died of
hunger.
Another day the son-in-law rose early in the morning and went over
to the old man's lodge and kicked against the poles, calling to him,
"Get up now and help me; I want you to go and stamp on the log-jam
to drive out the buffalo." When the old man moved his feet on the
jam and a buffalo ran out, the son-in-law was not ready for it, and
it passed by him before he shot the arrow; so he only wounded it. It
ran away, but at last it fell down and died.
The old man followed close after it, and as he ran along he came to
a place where a great clot of blood had fallen from the buffalo's
wound. When he came to where this clot of blood was lying on the
ground, he stumbled and fell and spilled his arrows out of his
quiver, and while he was picking them up he picked up also the clot
of blood and hid it in his quiver.
"What are you picking up?" called the son-in-law.
"Nothing," replied the old man. "I fell down and spilled my arrows,
and I am putting them back."
"Ah, old man," said the son-in-law, "you are lazy and useless. You
no longer help me. Go back now to the camp and tell your daughters
to come down here and help carry in this meat."
The old man went to the camp and told his daughters of the meat that
their husband had killed, and they went down to the killing ground.
Then he went to his own lodge and said to his wife, "Hurry, now, put
the stone kettle on the fire. I have brought home something from the
killing."
"Ah," said the old woman, "has our son-in-law been generous and
given us something nice to eat?"
"No," replied the old man, "but hurry and put the kettle on the
fire."
After a time the water began to boil and the old man turned his
quiver upside down over the pot, and immediately there came from it
a sound of a child crying, as if it were being hurt. The old people
both looked in the kettle and there they saw a little boy, and they
quickly took him out of the water. They were surprised and did not
know where the child had come from. The old woman wrapped the child
up and wound a line about its wrappings to keep them in place,
making a lashing for the child. Then they talked about it, wondering
what should be done with it. They thought that if their son-in-law
knew it was a boy he would kill it; so they determined to tell their
daughters that the baby was a girl, for then their son-in-law would
think that he was going to have another wife. So he would be glad.
They called the child Kut-o-yis´--Clot of Blood.
The son-in-law and his wives came home, bringing the meat, and
after a little time they heard the child in the next lodge crying.
The son-in-law said to his youngest wife, "Go over to your mother's
and see whether that baby is a boy or a girl. If it is a boy, tell
your parents to kill it."
Soon the young woman came back and said to her husband, "It is a
girl baby. You are to have another wife."
The son-in-law did not know whether to believe this, and sent his
oldest wife to ask the same question. When she came back and told
him the same thing he believed that it was really a girl. Then he
was glad, for he said to himself, "Now, when this child has grown
up, I shall have another wife." He said to his youngest wife, "Take
some back fat and pemmican over to your mother; she must be well fed
now that she has to nurse this child."
On the fourth day after he had been born the child spoke and said to
his mother, "Hold me in turn to each one of these lodge poles, and
when I come to the last one I shall fall out of my lashings and be
grown up." The old woman did as he had said, and as she held him to
one pole after another he could be seen to grow; and finally when he
was held to the last pole he was a man.
After Kut-o-yis´ had looked about the lodge he put his eye to a hole
in the lodge-covering and looked out. Then he turned around and said
to the old people, "How is it that in this lodge there is nothing to
eat? Over by the other lodge I see plenty of food hanging up."
"Hush," said the old woman, raising her hand, "you will be heard.
Our son-in-law lives over there. He does not give us anything at all
to eat."
"Well," said the young man, "where is your piskun--where do you kill
buffalo?"
"It is down by the river," the old woman answered. "We pound on it
and the buffalo run out."
For some time they talked together and the old man told Kut-o-yis´
how his son-in-law had abused him. He said to the young man, "He has
taken from me my bow and my arrows and has taken even my dogs; and
now for many days we have had nothing to eat, except sometimes a
small piece of meat that our daughter throws to us."
"Father," said Kut-o-yis´, "have you no arrows?"
"No, my son," replied the old man, "but I still have four stone
arrow points."
"Go out then," said Kut-o-yis´, "and get some wood. We will make a
bow and some arrows, and in the morning we will go down to where the
buffalo are and kill something to eat."
Early in the morning Kut-o-yis´ pushed the old man and said, "Come,
get up now, and we will go down and kill, when the buffalo come
out." It was still very early in the morning.
When they reached the river the old man said, "This is the place to
stand and shoot. I will go down and drive them out."
He went down and stamped on the log-jam, and presently a fat cow ran
out and Kut-o-yis´ killed it.
Now, after these two had gone to the river the son-in-law arose and
went over to the old man's lodge, and knocked on the poles and
called to the old man to get up and help him kill. The old woman
called out to the son-in-law, saying, "Your father-in-law has
already gone down to the piskun." This made the son-in-law angry,
and he began to talk badly to the old woman and to threaten to harm
her.
Presently he went on down to the log-jam, and as he got near the
place he saw the old man at work there, bending over, skinning a
buffalo; for Kut-o-yis´, when he had seen the son-in-law coming, had
lain down on the ground and hidden himself behind the carcass.
When the son-in-law had come pretty close to where the buffalo lay
he said to his father-in-law, "Old man, stand up and look all about
you. Look carefully and well, for it will be the last time that you
will ever see anything"; and while the son-in-law said this he took
an arrow from his quiver.
Kut-o-yis´ spoke to the old man from his hiding-place and said,
"Tell your son-in-law that he must take his last look, for that you
are going to kill him now." The old man said this as he had been
told.
"Ah," said the son-in-law, "you talk back to me. That makes me still
angrier at you." He put an arrow on the string and shot at the old
man, but did not hit him. Kut-o-yis´ said to the old man, "Pick up
that arrow and shoot it back at him"; and the old man did so. Now,
they shot at each other four times, and then the old man said to
Kut-o-yis´, "I am afraid now; get up and help me. If you do not, I
think he will kill me." Then Kut-o-yis´ rose to his feet and said to
the son-in-law, "Here, what are you doing? I think you have been
treating this old man badly for a long time. Why do you do it?"
"Oh no," said the son-in-law, and he smiled at Kut-o-yis´ in a
friendly way, for he was afraid of him. "Oh no; no one thinks more
of this old man than I do. I have always been very good to him."
"No," said Kut-o-yis´. "You are saying what is not true, and I am
going to kill you now."
Kut-o-yis´ shot the son-in-law four times and he fell down and
died. Then the young man told his father to go and bring down to him
the daughters who had acted badly toward him. The old man did so and
Kut-o-yis´ punished them. Then he went up to the lodges and said to
the youngest woman, "Did you love your husband?" "Yes," said the
girl, "I loved him." So Kut-o-yis´ punished her too, but not so
badly as he had the other daughters, because she had been kind to
her parents.
To the old people he said, "Go over now to that lodge and live
there. There is plenty of food, and when that is gone I will kill
more. As for me, I shall make a journey. Tell me where there are any
people. In what direction shall I go to find a camp?"
"Well," said the old man, "up here on Two Medicine Lodge Creek there
are some people--up where the piskun is, you know."
Kut-o-yis´ followed up the stream to where the piskun was and there
found many lodges of people. In the centre of the camp was a big
lodge, and painted on it the figure of a bear. He did not go to this
lodge, but went into a small lodge where two old women lived. When
he had sat down they put food before him--lean dried meat and some
belly fat.
"How is this, grandmothers?" he said. "Here is a camp with plenty of
fat meat and back fat hanging up to dry; why do you not give me some
of that?"
"Hush; be careful," said the old women. "In that big lodge over
there lives a big bear and his wives and children. He takes all the
best food and leaves us nothing. He is the chief of this place."
Early in the morning Kut-o-yis´ said to the old women, "Harness up
your dogs to the travois now and go over to the piskun, and I will
kill some fat meat for you."
When they got there, he killed a fat cow and helped the old women to
cut it up, and they took it to the lodge. One of those old women
said, "Ah me, the bears will be sure to come."
"Why do you say that?" he asked.