more supremacy falls into the hands of the few, until monotheism is
established on the plan of the empire. Then all of the inferior deities
whose characters are pure become ministering angels, and the inferior
deities whose characters are evil become devils, and the differentiation
of good and evil is perfected in the gulf between heaven and hell. In
all this time from zooetheism to monotheism, ancientism becomes more
ancient, and the times and dynasties are multiplied. Spiritism is more
clearly defined, and spirits become eternal; mythologic tales are
codified, and sacred books are written; divination for the result of
amorous intrigue has become the prophecy of immortality, and
thaumaturgics is formulated as the omnipresent, the omnipotent, the
omniscient--the infinite.
Time has failed me to tell of the evolution of idolatry from fetichism,
priestcraft from sorcery, and of their overthrow by the doctrines that
were uttered by that voice on the Mount. Religion, that was fetichism
and ecstasism and sorcery, is now the yearning for something better,
something purer, and the means by which this highest state for humanity
may be reached, the ideal worship of the highest monotheism, is "in
spirit and in truth." The steps are long from _Cin-au-aev_, the
ancient of wolves, by Zeus, the ancient of skies, to Jehovah, the
"Ancient of Days."
_MYTHIC TALES._
In every Indian tribe there is a great body of story lore--tales
purporting to be the sayings and doings, the history, of the gods. Every
tribe has one or more persons skilled in the relation of these
stories--preachers. The long winter evenings are set apart for this
purpose. Then the men and women, the boys and girls, gather about the
camp-fire to listen to the history of the ancients, to a chapter in the
unwritten bible of savagery. Such a scene is of the deepest interest. A
camp-fire of blazing pine or sage boughs illumines a group of dusky
faces intent with expectation, and the old man begins his story, talking
and acting; the elders receiving his words with reverence, while the
younger persons are played upon by the actor until they shiver with fear
or dance with delight. An Indian is a great actor. The conditions of
Indian life train them in natural sign language. Among the two hundred
and fifty or three hundred thousand Indians in the United States, there
are scores of languages, so that often a language is spoken by only a
few hundred or a few score of people; and as a means of communication
between tribes speaking different languages, a sign language has grown
up, so that an Indian is able to talk all over--with the features of his
face, his hands and feet, the muscles of his body; and thus a skillful
preacher talks and acts; and, inspired by a theme which treats of the
gods, he sways his savage audience at will. And ever as he tells his
story he points a moral--the mythology, theology, religion, history, and
all human duties are taught. This preaching is one of the most important
institutions of savagery. The whole body of myths current in a tribe is
the sum total of their lore--their philosophy, their miraculous history,
their authority for their governmental institutions, their social
institutions, their habits and customs. It is their unwritten bible.
_THE CIN-AU-AeV BROTHERS DISCUSS MATTERS OF IMPORTANCE TO THE PEOPLE._
Once upon a time the _Cin-au-aev_ brothers met to consult about the
destiny of the _U-in-ka-rets_. At this meeting the younger said:
"Brother, how shall these people obtain their food? Let us devise some
good plan for them. I was thinking about it all night, but could not see
what would be best, and when the dawn came into the sky I went to a
mountain and sat on its summit, and thought a long time; and now I can
tell you a good plan by which they can live. Listen to your younger
brother. Look at these pine trees; their nuts are sweet; and there is
the _us_, very rich; and there is the apple of the cactus, full of juice;
on the plain you see the sunflower, bearing many seeds--they will be
good for the nation. Let them have all these things for their food, and
when they have gathered a store they shall put them in the ground, or
hide them in the rocks, and when they return they shall find abundance,
and having taken of them as they may need, shall go on, and yet when
they return a second time there shall still be plenty; and though they
return many times, as long as they live the store shall never fail; and
thus they will be supplied with abundance of food without toil." "Not
so," said the elder brother, "for then will the people, idle and
worthless, and having no labor to perform, engage in quarrels, and
fighting will ensue, and they will destroy each other, and the people
will be lost to the earth; they must work for all they receive." Then
the younger brother answered not, but went away sorrowing.
The next day he met the elder brother and accosted him thus: "Brother,
your words were wise; let the _U-in-ka-rets_ work for their food.
But how shall they be furnished with honey-dew? I have thought all night
about this, and when the dawn came into the sky I sat on the summit of
the mountain and did think, and now I will tell you how to give them
honey-dew: Let it fall like a great snow upon the rocks, and the women
shall go early in the morning and gather all they may desire, and they
shall be glad." "No," replied the elder brother, "it will not be good,
my little brother, for them to have much and find it without toil; for
they will deem it of no more value than dung, and what we give them for
their pleasure will only be wasted. In the night it shall fall in small
drops on the reeds, which they shall gather and beat with clubs, and
then will it taste very sweet, and having but little they will prize it
the more." And the younger brother went away sorrowing, but returned the
next day and said: "My brother, your words are wise; let the women
gather the honey-dew with much toil, by beating the reeds with flails.
Brother, when a man or a woman, or a boy or a girl, or a little one
dies, where shall he go? I have thought all night about this, and when
the dawn came into the sky I sat on the top of the mountain and did
think. Let me tell you what to do: When a man dies, send him back when
the morning returns, and then will all his friends rejoice." "Not so,"
said the elder; "the dead shall return no more." The little brother
answered him not, but, bending his head in sorrow, went away.
One day the younger _Cin-au-aev_ was walking in the forest, and saw
his brother's son at play, and taking an arrow from his quiver slew the
boy, and when he returned he did not mention what he had done. The
father supposed that his boy was lost, and wandered around in the woods
for many days, and at last found the dead child, and mourned his loss
for a long time.
One day the younger _Cin-au-aev_ said to the elder, "You made the law
that the dead should never return. I am glad that you were the first to
suffer." Then the elder knew that the younger had killed his child, and
he was very angry and sought to destroy him, and as his wrath increased
the earth rocked, subterraneous groanings were heard, darkness came on,
fierce storms raged, lightning flashed, thunder reverberated through the
heavens, and the younger brother fled in great terror to his father,
_Ta-vwots'_, for protection.
_ORIGIN OF THE ECHO._
_I'-o-wi_ (the turtle dove) was gathering seeds in the valley, and her
little babe slept. Wearied with carrying it on her back, she laid it
under the _ti-ho-pi_ (sage bush) in care of its sister, _O-ho-tcu_
(the summer yellow bird). Engaged in her labors, the mother wandered
away to a distance, when a _tso-a-vwits_ (a witch) came and said to
the little girl, "Is that your brother?" and _O-ho-tcu_ answered, "This
is my sister," for she had heard that witches preferred to steal boys,
and did not care for girls. Then the _tso-a-vwits_ was angry and
chided her, saying that it was very naughty for girls to lie; and she
put on a strange and horrid appearance, so that _O-ho-tcu_ was stupefied
with fright; then the _tso-a-vwits_ ran away with the boy, carrying
him, to her home on a distant mountain. Then she laid him down on the
ground, and, taking hold of his right foot, stretched the baby's leg
until it was as long as that of a man, and she did the same to the other
leg; then his body was elongated; she stretched his arms, and, behold,
the baby was as large as a man. And the _tso-a-vwits_ married him and
had a husband, which she had long desired; but, though he had the body
of a man, he had the heart of a babe, and knew no better than to marry a
witch.
Now, when _I'-o-wi_ returned and found not her babe under the
_ti-ho-pi_, but learned from _O-ho-tcu_ that it had been stolen by
a _tso-a-vwits_, she was very angry, and punished her daughter very
severely. Then she went in search of the babe for a long time, mourning
as she went, and crying and still crying, refusing to be comforted,
though all her friends joined her in the search, and promised to revenge
her wrongs.
Chief among her friends was her brother, _Kwi'-na_, (the eagle), who
traveled far and wide over all the land, until one day he heard a
strange noise, and coming near he saw the _tso-a-vwits_ and _U'-ja_
(the sage cock), her husband, but he did not know that this large man
was indeed the little boy who had been stolen. Yet he returned and
related to _I'-o-wi_ what he had seen, who said: "If that is indeed my
boy, he will know my voice." So the mother came near to where the
_tso-a-vwits_ and _U'-ja_ were living, and climbed into a cedar tree,
and mourned and cried continually. _Kwi'-na_ placed himself near by on
another tree to observe what effect the voice of the mother would have
on _U'-ja_, the _tso-a-vwits'_ husband. When he heard the cry of his
mother, _U'-ja_ knew the voice, and said to the _tso-a-vwits_, "I
hear my mother, I hear my mother, I hear my mother," but she laughed at
him, and persuaded him to hide.
Now, the _tso-a-vwits_ had taught _U'-ja_ to hunt, and a short time
before he had killed a mountain sheep, which was lying in camp. The
witch emptied the contents of the stomach, and with her husband took
refuge within; for she said to herself, "Surely, _I'-o-wi_ will never
look in the paunch of a mountain sheep for my husband." In this retreat
they were safe for a long time, so that they who were searching were
sorely puzzled at the strange disappearance. At last _Kwi'-na_ said,
"They are hid somewhere in the ground, maybe, or under the rocks; after
a long time they will be very hungry and will search for food; I will
put some in a tree so as to tempt them." So he killed a rabbit and put
it on the top of a tall pine, from which he trimmed the branches and
peeled the bark, so that it would be very difficult to climb; and he
said, "When these hungry people come out they will try to climb that
tree for food, and it will take much time, and while the
_tso-a-vwits_ is thus engaged we will carry _U'-ja_ away." So they
watched some days, until the _tso-a-vwits_ was very hungry, and her
baby-hearted husband cried for food; and she came out from their hiding
place and sought for something to eat. The odor of the meat placed on
the tree came to her nostrils, and she saw where it was and tried to
climb up, but fell back many times; and while so doing _Kwi'-na_, who
had been sitting on a rock near by and had seen from where she came, ran
to the paunch which had been their house, and taking the man carried him
away and laid him down under the very same _ti-ho-pi_ from which
he had been stolen; and behold! he was the same beautiful little babe
that _I'-o-wi_ had lost.
And _Kwi'-na_ went off into the sky and brought back a storm, and caused
the wind to blow, and the rain to beat upon the ground, so that his
tracks were covered, and the _tso-a-vwits_ could not follow him; but
she saw lying upon the ground near by some eagle feathers, and knew well
who it was that had deprived her of her husband, and she said to
herself, "Well, I know _Kwi'-na_ is the brother of _I'-o-wi_; he is a
great warrior and a terrible man; I will go to _To-go'-a_ (the
rattlesnake), my grandfather, who will protect me and kill my enemies."
_To-go'-a_ was enjoying his midday sleep on a rock, and as the
_tso-a-vwits_ came near her grandfather awoke and called out to her,
"Go back, go back; you are not wanted here; go back!" But she came on
begging his protection; and while they were still parleying they heard
_Kwi'-na_ coming, and _To-go'-a_ said, "Hide, hide!" But she knew not
where to hide, and he opened his mouth and the _tso-a-vwits_ crawled
into his stomach. This made _To-go'-a_ very sick and he entreated her to
crawl out, but she refused, for she was in great fear. Then he tried to
throw her up, but could not, and he was sick nigh unto death. At last,
in his terrible retchings, he crawled out of his own skin, and left the
_tso-a-vwits_ in it, and she, imprisoned there, rolled about and hid
in the rocks. When _Kwi'-na_ came near he shouted, "Where are you, old
_tso-a-vwits_? where are you, old _tso-a-vwits_?" She repeated his
words in mockery.
Ever since that day witches have lived in snake skins, and hide among
the rocks, and take great delight in repeating the words of passers by.
The white man, who has lost the history of these ancient people, calls
these mocking cries of witches domiciliated in snake skins "echoes," but
the Indians know the voices of the old hags.
This is the origin of the echo.
_THE SO'-KUS WAI'-UN-AeTS._
_Tum-pwi-nai'-ro-gwi-nump_, he who had a stone shirt, killed
_Si-kor'_, (the crane,) and stole his wife, and seeing that she had
a child, and thinking it would be an incumbrance to them on their
travels, he ordered her to kill it. But the mother, loving the babe, hid
it under her dress, and carried it away to its grandmother. And Stone
Shirt carried his captured bride to his own land.
In a few years the child grew to be a fine lad, under the care of his
grandmother, and was her companion wherever she went.
One day they were digging flag roots, on the margin of the river, and
putting them in a heap on the bank. When they had been at work a little
while, the boy perceived that the roots came up with greater ease than
was customary, and he asked the old woman the cause of this, but she did
not know; and, as they continued their work, still the reeds came up
with less effort, at which their wonder increased, until the grandmother
said, "Surely, some strange thing is about to transpire." Then the boy
went to the heap where they had been placing the roots, and found that
some one had taken them away, and he ran back, exclaiming, "Grandmother,
did you take the roots away?" And she answered, "No, my child; perhaps
some ghost has taken them off; let us dig no more; come away."
But the boy was not satisfied, as he greatly desired to know what all
this meant; so he searched about for a time, and at length found a man
sitting under a tree, whom he taunted with being a thief, and threw mud
and stones at him, until he broke the stranger's leg, who answered not
the boy, nor resented the injuries he received, but remained silent and
sorrowful and, when his leg was broken, he tied it up in sticks, and
bathed it in the river, and sat down again under the tree, and beckoned
the boy to approach.
When the lad came near, the stranger told him he had something of great
importance to reveal. "My son," said he, "did that old woman ever tell
you about your father and mother?" "No," answered the boy; "I have never
heard of them." "My son, do you see these bones scattered on the ground?
Whose bones are these?" "How should I know?" answered the boy. "It may
be that some elk or deer has been killed here." "No," said the old man.
"Perhaps they are the bones of a bear;" but the old man shook his head.
So the boy mentioned many other animals, but the stranger still shook
his head, and finally said, "These are the bones of your father; Stone
Shirt killed him, and left him to rot here on the ground, like a wolf."
And the boy was filled with indignation against the slayer of his
father. Then the stranger asked, "Is your mother in yonder lodge?" and
the boy replied, "No." "Does your mother live on the banks of this
river?" and the boy answered, "I don't know my mother; I have never seen
her; she is dead." "My son," replied the stranger, "Stone Shirt, who
killed your father, stole your mother, and took her away to the shore of
a distant lake, and there she is his wife to-day." And the boy wept
bitterly, and while the tears filled his eyes so that he could not see,
the stranger disappeared.
Then the boy was filled with wonder at what he had seen and heard, and
malice grew in his heart against his father's enemy. He returned to the
old woman, and said, "Grandmother, why have you lied to me about my
father and mother?" and she answered not, for she knew that a ghost had
told all to the boy. And the boy fell upon the ground weeping and
sobbing, until he fell into a deep sleep, when strange things were told
him.
His slumber continued three days and three nights, and when he awoke he
said to his grandmother, "I am going away to enlist all nations in my
fight," and straightway he departed.
(Here the boy's travels are related with many circumstances concerning
the way he was received by the people, all given in a series of
conversations, very lengthy; so they will be omitted.)
Finally, he returned in advance of the people whom he had enlisted,
bringing with him _Cin-au'-aev_, the wolf, and _To-go'-a_, the
rattlesnake. When the three had eaten food, the boy said to the old
woman: "Grandmother, cut me in two." But she demurred, saying she did
not wish to kill one whom she loved so dearly. "Cut me in two," demanded
the boy, and he gave her a stone ax which he had brought from a distant
country, and with a manner of great authority he again commanded her to
cut him in two. So she stood before him, and severed him in twain, and
fled in terror. And lo! each part took the form of an entire man, and
the one beautiful boy appeared as two, and they were so much alike no
one could tell them apart.
When the people or natives whom the boy had enlisted came pouring into
the camp, _Cin-au'-aev_ and _To-go'-a_ were engaged in telling them of
the wonderful thing that had happened to the boy, and that now there
were two; and they all held it to be an augury of a successful
expedition to the land of Stone Shirt. And they started on their
journey.
Now the boy had been told in the dream of his three days' slumber of a
magical cup, and he had brought it home with him from his journey among
the nations, and the _So'-kus Wai'-un-aets_ carried it between
them, filled with water. _Cin-au'-aev_ walked on their right and
_To-go'-a_ on their left, and the nations followed in the order in which
they had been enlisted. There was a vast number of them, so that when
they were stretched out in line it was one day's journey from the front
to the rear of the column.
When they had journeyed two days and were far out on the desert all the
people thirsted, for they found no water, and they fell down upon the
sand groaning, and murmuring that they had been deceived, and they
cursed the One-Two.
But the _So'-kus Wai'-un-aets_ had been told in the wonderful dream
of the suffering which would be endured and that the water which they
carried in the cup was only to be used in dire necessity, and the
brothers said to each other: "Now the time has come for us to drink the
water." And when one had quaffed of the magical bowl, he found it still
full, and he gave it to the other to drink, and still it was full; and
the One-Two gave it to the people, and one after another did they all
drink, and still the cap was full to the brim.
But _Cin-au'-aev_ was dead, and all the people mourned, for he was a
great man. The brothers held the cup over him, and sprinkled him with
water, when he arose and said: "Why do you disturb me? I did have a
vision of mountain brooks and meadows, of cane where honey-dew was
plenty." They gave him the cup, and he drank also; but when he had
finished there was none left. Refreshed and rejoicing they proceeded on
their journey.
The next day, being without food, they were hungry, and all were about
to perish; and again they murmured at the brothers, and cursed them. But
the _So'-kus Wai'-un-aets_ saw in the distance an antelope,
standing on an eminence in the plain, in bold relief against the sky;
and _Cin-au'-aev_ knew it was the wonderful antelope with many eyes,
which Stone Shirt kept for his watchman; and he proposed to go and kill
it, but _To-go'-a_ demurred, and said: "It were better that I should go,
for he will see you and run away." But the _So'-kus Wai'-un-aets_
told Cin'-au'-aev to go; and he started in a direction away to the left
of where the antelope was standing, that he might make a long detour
about some hills, and come upon him from the other side. _To-go'-a_ went
a little way from camp, and called to the brothers: "Do you see me?" and
they answered they did not. "Hunt for me;" and while they were hunting
for him, the rattlesnake said: "I can see you; you are doing"--so and
so, telling them what they were doing; but they could not find him.
Then, the rattlesnake came forth, declaring: "Now you know I can see
others, and that I cannot be seen when I so desire. _Cin-au'-aev_ cannot
kill that antelope, for he has many eyes, and is the wonderful watchman
of Stone Shirt; but I can kill him, for I can go where he is and he
cannot see me." So the brothers were convinced, and permitted him to go;
and he went and killed the antelope. When _Cin-au'-aev_ saw it fall, he
was very angry, for he was extremely proud of his fame as a hunter, and
anxious to have the honor of killing this famous antelope, and he ran up
with the intention of killing _To-go'-a_; but when he drew near, and saw
the antelope was fat, and would make a rich feast for the people, his
anger was appeased. "What matters it," said he, "who kills the game,
when we can all eat it?"
So all the people were fed in abundance, and they proceeded on their
journey.
The next day the people again suffered for water, and the magical cup
was empty; but the _So'-kus Wai'-un-aets_, having been told in
their dream what to do, transformed themselves into doves, and flew away
to a lake, on the margin of which was the home of Stone Shirt.
Coming near to the shore, they saw two maidens bathing in the water; and
the birds stood and looked, for the maidens were very beautiful. Then
they flew into some bushes, near by, to have a nearer view, and were
caught in a snare which the girls had placed for intrusive birds. The
beautiful maidens came up, and, taking the birds out of the snare,
admired them very much, for they had never seen such birds before. They
carried them to their father, Stone Shirt, who said: "My daughters, I
very much fear these are spies from my enemies, for such birds do not
live in our land"; and he was about to throw them into the fire, when
the maidens besought him, with tears, that he would not destroy their
beautiful birds; but he yielded to their entreaties with much misgiving.
Then they took the birds to the shore of the lake, and set them free.
When the birds were at liberty once more, they flew around among the
bushes, until they found the magical cup which they had lost, and taking
it up, they carried it out into the middle of the lake and settled down
upon the water, and the maidens supposed they were drowned.
The birds, when they had filled their cup, rose again, and went back to
the people in the desert, where they arrived just at the right time to
save them with the cup of water, from which each drank; and yet it was
full until the last was satisfied, and then not a drop remained.
The brothers reported that they had seen Stone Shirt and his daughters.
The next day they came near to the home of the enemy, and the brothers,
in proper person, went out to reconnoiter. Seeing a woman gleaning
seeds, they drew near, and knew it was their mother, whom Stone Shirt
had stolen from _Si-kor'_, the crane. They told her they were her
sons, but she denied it, and said she had never had but one son; but the
boys related to her their history, with the origin of the two from one,
and she was convinced. She tried to dissuade them from making war upon
Stone Shirt, and told them that no arrow could possibly penetrate his
armor, and that he was a great warrior, and had no other delight than in
killing his enemies, and that his daughters also were furnished with
magical bows and arrows, which they could shoot so fast that the arrows
would fill the air like a cloud, and that it was not necessary for them
to take aim, for their missiles went where they willed; they _thought_ the
arrows to the hearts of their enemies; and thus the maidens could kill
the whole of the people before a common arrow could be shot by a common
person. But the boys told her what the spirit had said in the long
dream, and had promised that Stone Shirt should be killed. They told her
to go down to the lake at dawn, so as not to be endangered by the
battle.