Part 1 — FICTION (continued 4)

“Now, my boys, you must never go to the southwest, to the gambling place,” said the father. The next day about noon the little boy started off alone. He came to a beautiful opening in the woods, at the farther end of which was a lean-to, under which was a man with a very large head (far larger than the head of a buffalo), who played dice for the heads of all who came along. Crowds of people were there betting in threes. When the game was lost the big-headed man put the three persons on one side in reserve; then he played again with three more, and when they lost he put them with the first three, and so on until the number was large enough for his purpose; then, getting up, he cut all their heads off. As the boy approached, a number who had lost their bets were waiting to be killed. Hope came to them all, for they knew that this little fellow had great orenda. Immediately the game began. When the big-headed man threw the dice the boy caused some to remain in the dish and others to go high, so the dice in the throw were of different colors. When he himself threw, all the dice, turning into woodcocks, flew high and came down sitting, and all of one color in the bowl. The two played until the boy won back all the people and the big-headed man lost his own head, which the boy immediately cut off. The whole crowd shouted, “Now, you must be our chief.” “Oh! how could such a little fellow as I be a chief. Maybe my father would consent to be your chief. I will tell him,” said the boy. So the boy went home and told his father, but the latter would not go to the land of gambling.

“Now,” said the father, “you must never go to the east; they play ball there; you must never go there.” The next day the boy, starting for the east, traveled until he came to beautiful plains, a great level country, where the wolf and the bear clans were playing on one side against the eagle, the turtle, and the beaver clans on the other. The little boy took the side of the wolf and the bear; they said, “If you win, you will own all this country.” They played, and he won for them. “Now,” they said, “you are the owner of all the country.” On reaching home the little boy said to his father, “I have won all the beautiful country of the east; you come and be the chief of it.” His father consented, and going to the country of the east with the two boys, there they lived. That is the story.

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35. The Faithless Wife and the Three Old Men

A man and his wife went into the forest to hunt. They built a lodge of hemlock boughs, in which they lived very happily. In the course of time a boy was born to them. They had plenty of meat, for the man was a successful hunter. While he was away hunting in the forests his wife would busy herself in dressing the meat, in bringing bark to keep up the fire, and in taking care of the child. Later another child, a girl, was born.

Everything went well until the boy was large enough to do errands. Then his mother began to send him for water, which was at some distance from the cabin. For some reason unknown to her the child was much afraid of going to the spring. Whenever his mother ordered him to go he would complain and try to beg off; but, taking him by the hair, she would lead him to the door, push him out, throwing the water vessel after him. Then the child knew he must pick up the vessel and go. When he had brought the water into the lodge the mother would wash herself, comb her hair carefully, and after donning her best robe she would take the forehead strap and hatchet and go away, telling the boy that she was going for bark for the fire and that he must stay with his sister.

This conduct was repeated at the same time every day for a long while. Then the mother began to be very cruel to the boy. She did not feed him properly, and neglected him in every way, seeming almost to hate him. At last the boy told his father that his mother did not give him enough to eat. The father had noticed that she was cross and cruel to the child, and had begun to think that something was wrong. Finally as he and the son were lying down together one night on one side of the fire and the mother and the little girl on the other side, the father began to question the boy about what took place at home while he was away hunting. Then the boy told him that about the same time every day his mother sent him after water to a place where he was afraid to go; that then, after washing herself and combing her hair, she would go off into the woods for bark for the fire, and remain a long time.

The next day when the father came home he asked whether the same thing had taken place. The boy replied, “Yes.” Then the man determined to watch his wife. The following day he started out to hunt, as usual. After going some distance, he crept back to a place whence he could see what took place around the cabin. Shortly he saw the skin door open and his boy thrust out and the water vessel thrown after him. He saw the boy pick up the vessel and start off, crying bitterly. This made the father very sad, but he waited as patiently as possible to see what would happen next.

The boy brought the water. Soon after this his wife came out in new garments, carrying her strap and hatchet. She walked away from the lodge in a bee line, her husband following cautiously. Walking down a little hill, she went on until she came to a dry black ash tree, from which the bark could be stripped easily. There she stood, looking up at it. Her husband drew as near as he could without being seen by her. After gazing up into the tree for a moment, she struck it with the back of her hatchet, making a beautiful sound. After waiting a while, she struck it a second time. Again the same musical sound was heard. The third time she struck it he heard a bird on the top branches. As she struck it the fourth time the bird flew down. As it alighted on the ground it became a handsome man. The husband saw how his wife and her lover dallied together. At that moment, drawing his bow, he shot an arrow. In the twinkling of an eye the lover, turning himself into a bird, flew upward and disappeared in the air. The woman sprang up, and seeing her husband, said, “It is you, is it?” “Yes,” he replied, “now I know why you abuse our boy.” “Yes; I do abuse him, and I will abuse you, too,” she declared. Seizing a club, she beat him until he was helpless; then, leaving him on the ground, she ran home, put her children outside the cabin, and set fire to the hemlock boughs composing its roof. These blazed up and soon the lodge was in ashes. Then she said to her children, “You stay here; everything will be all right.” Then, taking up a handful of ashes, she threw them into the air, saying, “Let there be a snowstorm and let the snow lie as deep as these trees are high.” As the snow began to fall, she said to the boy, “Here is your dog; keep him with you, and take care of your sister.” Then she started off.

The snow kept coming down. Soon the boy and girl were covered, but they felt as comfortable as if they were in a warm cabin.

In the morning when the brother and sister and dog woke up they found breakfast already cooked. The boy first gave the dog his share and then he and his little sister ate. At meal times their food was always ready for them to eat. Some time afterward the boy, becoming lonely, said to his sister and the dog, “We will go out to amuse ourselves.” He had a bow and arrows, but could not use them much, for he carried his sister on his back from place to place. The dog usually ran ahead, then it would run back, and it was in motion at all times. They kept looking around and enjoying themselves until the dog began to whine and tease, wishing to go home. Then the boy said, “I think our dog wants to go back home.” So they turned back, and when they got home their supper was ready.

A few days later they went out again, a little farther than on the first day. Again on their return home supper was ready. The boy always gave the dog his share first. A third time they went out. They had already gone a considerable distance from the lodge when all at once the dog ran after some wild turkeys. The boy followed the dog, which at last chased them into the bushes. The boy could not get into the bushes to shoot them, for his sister was strapped on his back. Thereupon he said to himself, “I will unstrap her for just a moment. Then we shall have a good fat turkey to eat.” So he took her off for a minute, but almost before he had reached the bushes she screamed, and he saw a great bear run off with her. The boy and the dog followed the bear for three or four days. The boy heard the dog bark as it ran on. At last it got out of hearing and he lost all track of both dog and bear; now he was alone in the world. He had nothing to live for and wished to die. He tried several times to destroy himself, but he could not.

One day he climbed the high banks of a great lake. Mounting a rock, with the thought, “Now I will end my life,” he leaped into the water. When he struck the surface he lost his senses. On coming to himself again he seemed to approach a beautiful country with the purpose to stay there, and he thought that he was very comfortable. But it turned out that a great fish had swallowed him when he had struck the water.

After a few days the fish got into a small stream, on the banks of which two sisters had built a lodge; they had also made a dam to catch fish. One morning on going to the dam they were delighted to find a great fish there. The first said, “Let us dress it right away.” “Wait,” the other said, “until we get the water boiling to cook it. We must cut it up carefully. Such a fish must have much roe.”

After a few days he thought he would go again toward the setting sun. Passing the old man’s place, he soon came to another opening, in which he saw a second cabin. All around it the ground was very smooth as if it were a great playground. Seeing nobody, he walked up quietly and peeped into the cabin; an old man sitting within called out: “Is that you, nephew? Come in. I have been waiting for you now some time.” “Yes, I was going by, and I thought I would look in and see you,” said the boy. “Well, I have a way of passing time. I play a game when my nephews come,” declared the old man. “What is your game?” asked the boy. “Playing ball,” replied the old man. “I like that game,” answered the youth. “I bet my head against my nephew’s,” said the old man. “All right. Let us play, then,” was the boy’s reply. They went to the middle of the clearing. At each end was a stake. The young man said, “Are you ready?” Counting, “One, two, three,” they threw the ball. The old man beat the young man in throwing, but the young man struck the ball, and was the better runner. When he was getting far ahead, the old man threw a horn after him, which stuck into the middle of the boy’s foot. He had to stop, sit down, and pull out the horn. Just as he drew it out, the old man passed him. Spitting on his hand, the young man rubbed his foot, and it was healed. He then threw the horn, hitting the old man, who now had to sit down and pull the horn out of his own foot. The ball rolled on, passing between the stakes. At the next turn the result was the same, so the game was lost for the old man, who wanted to try again; but the young man said, “No; that is not the rule.” Thereupon with his knife he cut off the old man’s head, and, after burning his cabin, went home.

A third time the youth went toward the setting sun, farther than before. Passing the first and second clearings, he came to a third, in which he saw a great pond covered with ice; near it was a cabin. As the young man peeped in, an old man sitting there called out: “Well, nephew, I knew you would come. I am glad to see you.” “Yes, I thought I would look in and see you. Now I must go,” added the youth. “Oh, no! I have a rule that when one of my nephews comes I play a game. I run a race on the ice, and whoever gets beaten to the end loses his head. No matter how he gets there; only let him get there first, he wins.” Just as he was ready to start, the young man, taking a ball off an oak tree, said, “Let there come a high wind!” He got into the ball (which grows on the oak tree at a certain time of the year) and in a moment he was over the ice. The old man was scarcely halfway across. The young man then pulled out of his pouch a white flint. As he threw it toward the middle of the pond, he said, “Let this stone melt the ice and boil the water.” In an instant the old man was sinking in boiling water and cried for mercy, but the young man said, “No!” As the water boiled it melted all the ice; thereupon then the water disappeared, dry land appeared, and the old man was left in the middle of it, a great stone monument. After setting fire to the cabin the young man went home. He had never forgotten his father and sister, and he knew where they were.

He set out; after traveling a long way he struck another trail; then he began to meet many people, and as they journeyed the crowd kept increasing. When night came they all camped together and were very hungry. Going out, the youth killed game, which he told the men to bring in; this the women prepared. The next day all went on. The sisters had said to him before starting: “There will be one woman in the crowd who will seem to have power over all men. Do not notice her.” He saw the woman, for the men all crowded around her, and one after another she satisfied all their desires. He looked at her but passed on.

At last he reached the place where his grandmother lived. She was very poor. He said, “Grandmother, I have come.” “Poor grandchild, I am sorry. I have so little to give. I am alone and poor,” murmured the grandmother. “Oh! do not mind; we shall be all right,” said he, bringing in game until the old woman was so glad that she was almost crying with joy. She hurried around like a young girl to prepare food. Then he began to question her. She told him: “There is a great gathering at the Long Lodge. The chief’s daughter is to be married. She has been married before, but she nearly destroyed her husband, her daughter, and their dog. She had a son, but nobody knows where he is. Now she is going to torture her husband to death. He is hung up at one end of the Long Lodge, and everyone can strike him with a burning brand; his tears become wampum beads. Her daughter is hanging on a peg over the fire, slowly roasting. The dog is at one end of the fire and everyone who passes gives him a kick. He has consumption and his hair is all singed off.”

The boy was very angry. When night came he said to his grandmother, “I am going to the gathering.” She warned him to beware of evil men and women who played games and tried to deceive people. When he arrived at the gathering he pretended to be a little boy, playing around with the children and going into the Long Lodge with them. There he saw his mother decked out gaily, perched on a high seat in the middle of the room, where she could be seen by everybody. He saw his father secured to a stake. Over the fire his sister was roasting, and he heard his dog coughing, barely alive. Then he told his grandmother what he had come for; that the woman was his mother and the man his father. “Now, my mothers, the two sisters, told me to ask you to help me. Tell me what to do.” Consenting, she said: “I know everything and am ready to help you. I have a pair of moccasins you must wear. At certain intervals your mother orders your father to be branded. Now, you must stand near the fire. The moccasins, being made of the skin of a woman’s private parts, have sympathetic power over them. When your mother calls out, ‘Brand him,’ you must stick your foot into the fire.” The boy obeyed her, sticking his foot into the flame as the woman gave the order “Brand him.” That instant his mother screamed with pain. All, wondering at this, questioned her, but she would not tell. She was ashamed. Then the boy ran out of doors, but when it was time for her to give the order again he was near the fire. As she was beginning to say “Brand him,” again he put his foot into the fire and at that moment she screamed with pain. He tormented her in this way until she died. Each time she suffered his father and sister felt great relief. When she was dead, he took his father and sister and dog out of the building. Then he said, “Let this building turn to red-hot flint.” Immediately the lodge was in flames. As some of the people of the lodge had magic powers, their heads burst, the pieces striking against the stone walls, while their spirits flew out through the top into the air in the form of owls and other birds of ill omen.

Spitting on his hands, the young man rubbed his father and sister and dog, and they became as well as ever. Then he said, “Now, we will go home.” Thanking his grandmother, they started for the sisters’ cabin. When they came near, the sisters ran to meet them, saying, “We will be your father’s wives.” And they all lived happily together.

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36. The Dagwanoenyent (Daughter of the Wind) and Her Husband

There were a nephew and an uncle, who lived together in a bark lodge in the woods. The uncle gave the nephew nothing to eat, making him live on fungus. He told him he must not go north to collect fungus, but always south. The uncle himself went hunting every day but brought back no game. At home he lived on chestnut pudding and bear’s oil. The nephew could not find out for a long time how he made the pudding, but at last he discovered the process. The uncle had a little pot and a chestnut. He would put the least bit of chestnut into the pot, saying, “Watchisgwengo, Swell, Pudding.” Thereupon the mush would increase in quantity.

The next day after his discovery the boy did just as he had seen his uncle do, with the result that he had a good meal of chestnut pudding. He did likewise every day while his uncle was hunting. Then he began to wonder why his uncle forbade him to go northward. After thinking over the matter a few days, he determined to go in that direction notwithstanding his uncle’s injunction.

The boy started on his journey, traveling until he came to a Long Lodge. In the lodge was a great supply of venison and bear meat, and skin bags of bear’s oil were hanging all around the wall. The only person within was a woman, who was sitting in the middle of the room, with her head bent down. There was also a small boy toddling around, who clapped his hands and laughed when he saw the young man. The woman took no notice of him. The young man played a while with the child. After a time he started for home, taking with him a small piece of meat which he had filched. The uncle, returning home, prepared his pudding in secret as before.

Thus it happened every day from year to year. It was the custom for the old man to set out to hunt and for the young man to go to the Long Lodge to play with the little boy. The woman never moved nor spoke.

The little boy of the Long Lodge was about 15 when one day he said to the young man: “You and I are cousins. Your uncle is my father and that woman sitting there is my mother.” The nephew then asked, “Why does she never speak?” He asked her various questions, but she would not answer him a word. Thereupon with his bow and arrow he shot at a bag of bear’s oil which hung above her head. The arrow pierced the bag and the oil flowing out fell upon the woman’s head and face. This made her very angry, but she did not speak.

Now, all the meat in the lodge was the game which the uncle of the young man killed and brought in every day. He never came there until late in the day while the nephew went home early, so that in all these years they had never met at the Long Lodge. When the uncle came that evening he found the bag broken and the oil spilt over the woman. He suspected that his nephew had been there. On reaching his own lodge that night he asked, “Have you been at the Long Lodge?” “Oh, yes,” said the nephew; “I have been going there for the last 13 years. I have always eaten of the meat there. I have not eaten fungus for many years.” The uncle was very angry, and asked him whether he broke the bag containing the bear’s oil. “Yes,” the young man answered. “Oh! you have destroyed us both, I fear. That woman is an awful witch. She can not be killed. She will ruin us both,” said the uncle.

The next day the uncle went off again. But that time the nephew remained at home. During the day, raising the cover of his uncle’s couch, he found a great pot. This he filled with water, putting in also a good-sized piece of the chestnut, for he was very angry with his uncle. When the pot boiled, he began to strike it, saying, “Swell, Pot! Swell, Pot!” When it came up as high as the bed, he climbed on the bed. On the pot rising higher, he climbed on the shelf, which extended around the side of the lodge. When it rose as high as that, he climbed out of the smoke hole on the roof, enjoying immensely the increase of the pudding, knowing how terribly angry his uncle would be when he returned in the evening.

When his uncle came home he said to the boy, “What have you been doing?” “Making chestnut pudding,” declared the nephew. “Oh! it is too bad,” exclaimed the uncle. “Oh! that is an old story with me. I have been eating chestnut pudding for 15 years,” declared the boy. “By doing this you will destroy us both,” said the uncle, who was more angry than ever before. “You have enraged that woman. She will never stop her revenge until she has killed us both,” continued the uncle.

They went to bed, the old man feeling very bad. Just at daybreak the next morning they heard a terrible noise away off in the distance. The trees began to moan. The sound grew louder and louder. The two anxious watchers heard the cracking of branches and the falling of trees. They said the most awful tempest they had ever heard was coming, with the woman right in the midst of the storm. Sweeping down on the lodge and tearing it up from the ground, she caught up the uncle and bore him away. The nephew had hidden, so she did not find him.

That day the boy, going to the Long Lodge as before, found the old woman sitting there, mute and motionless, as if nothing had happened in the meantime. He asked the other boy, “What has your mother done with your father?” “Oh! you will never see him again. She will come for you tomorrow morning. I do not know what she has done with my father, but she went off with him and came back without him,” declared the boy.

The nephew of the man went home to prepare for the coming of the woman. He had a mole for his guardian. He got inside of the mole, which, instructed by him, went down into the ground under the lodge as deep as he could. The next morning the woman came again with terrible fury, raging worse than before. She uprooted all the trees in her path, but she could not find the nephew, so she had to go away without him.

Soon afterward the nephew went again to the Long Lodge. There sat the woman, motionless as before. “Oh!” said the small boy, “she went for you this morning, but could not find you. Where were you?” “I was right there,” replied the nephew of the man.

Then the nephew went home. The next morning at daybreak a similar tempest came; but the boy was down in the ground, inside the mole, so that the woman could not find him. Thereupon, making herself into a great whirlwind, and digging a deep hole in the ground, she lifted the earth to the sky, carrying the mole along in the dirt. The mole fell, but escaped, while the boy was killed. The old woman went home well satisfied.

The mole went immediately to work, however, and by blowing the breath into the boy’s mouth and withdrawing it brought him back to life.

After that the nephew set out to find where his uncle was, going northward. He went beyond the Long Lodge, traveling as fast as he could all day and night and carrying the mole with him. The next morning at daybreak the witch again came after him in a terrible tempest. Once more getting into the mole, he went into the ground, where she could not find him, so she went home to the Long Lodge. He traveled the second day as fast as he could. On the third morning the woman came still again in a roaring tempest. Finding that the nephew was in the mole, she made once more a whirlwind, which scooped up the earth, leaving a great hole, and carried him in the dirt far up into the clouds. The mole falling to the earth, the boy was killed. The witch went home satisfied. The mole, by again working over the dead nephew, brought him back to life. Whereupon the latter, putting the mole into his belt, ran on as fast as he could all the third day. That night he spent deep down in the great rocks of a mountain.

On the fourth morning at daybreak the woman came in a tempest, as before, but could not find the nephew. The same day he traveled until he came upon a lodge in an opening, like the other Long Lodge, which was supplied with everything; there, under the roots of a great elm tree near the lodge he found his uncle. The tree was standing on his breast, and his feet were sticking out at one side and his head at the other. He was reduced to skin and bones. He begged for a smoke, exclaiming, “Oh, my nephew! if only I could have a smoke.” “Poor uncle! I will get you a smoke,” said the nephew, and pushing the tree down he gave him a smoke. After smoking, the uncle arose, well. He and the nephew then went into the lodge, where they remained together two or three days.

One morning at daybreak the tempest came again. By watching the young man had found that the witch came in a narrow path and that it was possible to get out of her course. So he told his uncle to run westward, keeping out of her path, for she was the wind. The nephew himself stayed at home to meet her, going into the ground again, and again she dug him up and killed him. She went home contented, but the mole brought him to life. Then he followed her immediately to the lodge, where he found her sitting motionless. Shooting an arrow at the witch, he killed her. Then forming a great pile of dry bark, wood, and bear’s oil, he burned the body thereon, throwing the bones far away in every direction. When he had finished this task he said to the small boy, “We will go to my uncle, your father.” They went together to the old man and lived at the second Long Lodge for a few days.

But the witch came to life, and suspecting that they were at the Long Lodge, she went there in a terrible rage. Now the nephew, determined to meet her alone, sent his uncle and the boy away. He himself kept out of her path, for he had discovered her habits and her strength. He had learned also that after a certain time her force was spent, so that she became weak and could not go fast. He kept swerving to one side, therefore, until she turned into a whirlwind, and even afterward. When all her strength was spent and she had not found him the witch turned to go home. She had to walk, for she could no longer go through the air. Then, following her, the nephew killed her with his arrows. Thereupon he called his uncle and cousin. They burned her body to ashes and taking all the larger bones to the second Long Lodge they there pounded them into powder. This powder the nephew divided into three portions, each one of which he put in one of three skin bags, which he tied tight. One bag he gave to his uncle, another he gave to his cousin, and the third he put into his own pouch, saying: “I will keep it here. She shall never come to life again. When we are in a storm we must always keep apart, so that the force that is in these powders can not unite.”

Then the three went to the first Long Lodge, where there was a large supply of every kind of dried meat, and they lived together, prosperous and happy.

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37. A Raccoon Story

An uncle and a nephew lived together in a lodge in the forest. The nephew was a fine hunter. One day when the nephew was off in the woods hunting for game, a handsome woman, bringing a basket of bread, came to the lodge and said to the old man, the uncle, “My father and mother have sent me here to marry your nephew.” “Is it true that they sent you?” asked the uncle. “Yes,” said the young woman. “It is well,” said the old uncle. Lowering the basket, the girl set it before the old uncle. In it was the customary marriage bread. When the nephew came home, the old uncle said, “You are married now; here is your wife,” showing him the young woman. “It is well,” replied the nephew, and he and the young woman became man and wife.

Every day the nephew went out hunting, always returning with a heavy load of game.

One day while out hunting he came to a tree in the top of which was a large hole. In this he found a litter of raccoons. Climbing the tree, he threw one raccoon after another to the ground. All at once he heard a woman’s voice under the tree, saying, “Come down! come down! you are tired.” With that, she ran off through the forest. When he reached home, he told what had happened. His wife laughed at his perplexity, but said nothing.

Not long afterward, on a hunting trip, while packing up his game and making ready to start home, a woman came up behind him, and taking him by the arm, led him to a neighboring log. They sat down on it, whereupon drawing his head on her lap, she began to look for vermin. He was soon asleep from her orenda (magic power). Putting him into a basket, which she threw on her back, the woman went to the rocks in the middle of a lake. Then she took him out, and awakening him, asked, “Do you know this place?” Looking around, he replied, “Yes. This is the place where my uncle and I used to fish,” and giving a sudden spring into the water, he became a bass and escaped in a flash.

On reaching home, he told his wife what had happened to him. She laughed, but said nothing. He was so frightened at what had taken place that he remained at home for several days. At last the feeling of fear wore away and he started off to hunt.

As he was packing up his game to return home, a woman’s voice said, “Stop! Wait a while, for you must be tired.” They sat down on a log, and she, drawing his head on her lap, began looking for vermin. The man was soon asleep. Putting him into a basket, the woman carried him off to a great ledge of rocks, where there was only a small foothold. Taking him out of the basket, she asked, “Do you know this place?” “I will tell you soon,” said he, looking around. But at that instant the woman disappeared. He soon saw some one farther along on the rock, and heard him say, “I am fish hungry. I will fish a while.” Then, throwing out his line into the water below, he began singing while he pulled up one fish after another. At last he said: “I have enough. I shall take a rest now and have something to eat. This is what we people eat when we are out all night in the rocks.” Then he took a baked squash out of his basket.

The young man said to the rock, “Stand back a little, so that I can string my bow.” The rock stood back. Stringing his bow and saying, “Now boast again!” he shot the fisherman. The young man soon heard a loud noise, and looking in the direction from which it came, he saw an enormous bat pass a little to one side of him. Taking from his pouch a hemlock leaf, and dropping it over the rocks, he began to sing, “A tree must grow from the hemlock leaf.” Soon a tree came in sight. Then he talked to the tree, saying, “Come near to me and have many limbs.” As the tree came to a level with the place on the rocks where the young man was sitting, it stopped growing. He had seen along the narrow shelf on the rocks many other men. He called to the nearest one, asking him to tell all to come, so they could escape. Slowly creeping up, one after another, they went down the hemlock tree.

Then he said, “Let us go to our wife” (meaning the woman). After traveling some distance the young man killed an elk. Cutting into strings the hide they made a “papoose board,” but big enough for an adult; then they started on. Soon they came near a lodge, where they saw a woman pounding corn. When she noticed them coming she began to scold and, holding up the corn pounder, was going to fight with them. When the young man said, however, “Let the corn pounder stop right there,” it stopped in the air, half raised. Seizing the woman, they strapped her to the board, saying, “You must be very cold.” Then they set the board up in front of the fire in order to broil her slowly. Just at this time the young man’s wife came. Finding that they were roasting the woman, she was angry and, freeing her, said, “You are now liberated and I shall go home.” Making her way to the lake, she called on the bloodsuckers to stretch across it so that she could walk over on them. Each man went to his own lodge. When the young man came home his wife was there.

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38. The Self-sacrifice of Two Dogs for Their Master

In a certain village lived a man who was very fond of hunting; he had two dogs, which were so very strong and fierce that they would attack and kill a bear.

One day the man started off from the village to hunt. After he had traveled for two days he pitched his camp. The next morning he began to hunt. He was very successful for many days, killing a great deal of game. One night as he was going to sleep his dogs began to bark furiously. Not far away from the camp was a very large elm tree, whose top had been broken off. Hitherto the man had thought it might be hollow, although he had never examined it. One dog ran in the direction of this tree. The other dog followed it, and by the sound of its barking the man knew that it had stopped near this tree.

After a time one dog came back to the man, saying: “My brother, I believe that we are going to die to-night; we have seen a creature such as we have never beheld before. We think that it will come down from the tree to attack us. I will go and watch it; but first you must mark me with coal from the end of my mouth to my ear.” The man did as the dog wished. Then the dog said, “Now, I will go to the tree and my brother can come to be marked by you as I am marked.” Off he ran. The other dog soon came and the man marked him in the same way. Taking a torch, the man went to the tree. There on the broken top he saw a terrible creature; its head and part of its body were protruding out of the hollow in the trunk; it had very long teeth, enormous eyes, and long claws. The man had never before seen anything so dreadful. He went back to his camp. One of the dogs followed him, saying: “We two shall be destroyed, but we will do what we can to save you. You must hurry back to the village. Do not take a torch or a bow with you; it will only be in your way. Put on a pair of new moccasins, and carry also a second pair. I will lick the soles of your feet to give you speed.” The dog licked the soles of his feet; then the man, putting on the new moccasins, started toward home.

He had been running a good while when he heard a sound, and one of the dogs, overtaking him, said: “Run as fast as you can! Our enemy has started in pursuit. It does not travel on the ground, but leaps from tree to tree. The only thing left for us to do is to get between the trees and spring at it as it leaps past. When you come to water, stick your feet in it, making it as muddy as you can; then drink that water. You have noticed that since we have been your dogs we have drunk such water; it is better for us.” The man soon got very thirsty. Coming to a place where there was water, he stirred it up with his feet; then, after drinking what he wanted, he went on. He had not gone far when a dog came up to him and said, “I think there is a hole in your moccasin.” (The man looked; there was indeed a hole in his moccasin.) “Put on new ones.” Again the dog licked his feet and put on new moccasins. Then the dog said, “My companion will come the next time.” Then the dog ran back and the man rushed on.

Soon the other dog, rushing up, said to the man: “The enemy is coming very fast, and we are afraid it will overtake and kill you. When I go back my brother will come to aid you once more, whereupon the monster will kill him.”

The dog disappeared. Listening, the man heard both dogs barking. As he listened the barking of one ceased, and he knew that a dog was coming to aid him. On coming up this dog said: “I am here merely to speak to you and see you once more. When I go back I will attack our enemy and do all I can to defeat it, but it will kill me.” The dog returned. Then the hunter heard both dogs barking and then a howl; he knew by the sounds that a terrible fight was going on. The cry of one dog died out; this told him that that dog was killed. Now only one dog barked and howled. The man tried to increase his speed. It was still dark. The barking ceased, and presently the dog spoke behind him, saying: “My brother is killed and I am left alone. You would better start the death cry; our village is not far away and the people may hear you.” The man began to scream out the death cry, Goʹweh, as he ran. There happened to be a dance at the Long Lodge that night, and some people were sitting outside. Suddenly a young man, hearing a voice of some one in distress, gave the alarm.

Now, the dog came again to encourage the man with these words: “Do your best; you are near home, and perhaps you will escape. I will come once more. Then I will leap upon and draw the monster down and fight it.” The man heard the dog when the latter got back, and knew the monster was drawing near by the sound of the animal’s barking. Then the man ran on as fast as possible. The dog ceased barking and coming again said: “This is the last time I shall see you; I shall be destroyed now. If the people hear your cries and come to meet you, you will escape; if not, you will surely be killed.”

The dog went back; he had but a short distance to go this time. As the man ran, screaming, he saw a torchlight ahead. The dog howled in distress; then his howl died away and the man knew that he was dead. Finally, seeing people coming to the rescue, he struggled on harder and harder. When he met the people he fell in a faint; he heard the sounds behind him as he fell, and that was all he knew.

Holding up their torches the people saw a terrible animal; its fore legs seemed longer than the hind ones. They shot at it, whereupon it disappeared, and they returned to the village. The animal had made a journey during one night which it took the man two days to finish when he was going to hunt. As soon as he could talk he told the people what occurred from the time the dog first spoke to him. They decided to go to his camp and bring home the meat. Not far from the village they found the last dog torn to pieces, and farther on the other one. When they reached the camp they saw that the strange animal had eaten most of the meat; what remained they took home. They did not see the animal and never knew what it was.

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39. The Three Young Women, Daughters of Awaeh Yegendji or Mother Swan

There was an old woman who had three daughters, all of whom were young, good-looking, and clever.

When the eldest was 16 years of age and the youngest 12, the old woman said: “We want some venison and bear meat. We have lived here a good many years, and have had no meat—nothing but bread, and corn, and beans, and I long very much for meat. And now,” said she to the eldest, “you are old enough to be married to a man who can get us some meat.” To the second daughter she said: “You must go with your sister; perhaps you will have to stay all night on the way. There are an old woman and her son living in a broad field where you must go. The young man is handsome and a successful hunter. The old woman’s name is Big Earth.”

Both girls were willing to go, so the old woman continued: “To-morrow we must make marriage-bread.” After shelling and pounding corn, they made marriage-bread and some cakes, which they baked in the ashes. They made twenty-four of these cakes, which were put into a basket. The old woman painted the elder girl, combed her hair, and dressed her well. Then she told her: “Carry this basket on your back. You must take no notice of anyone you meet, and do not stop to talk with any person no matter what is said to you. When night comes, do not stop at any lodge but camp in the woods.”

The girls started, going along in a narrow path. They saw no person and no lodges until the evening; when they noticed a man running on ahead of them. He had a bow and arrows and was trying to shoot a squirrel in a tree. On seeing the girls he stopped them, saying, “Put down your basket and watch my arrow; see where it goes,” adding that he was almost blind and could not follow its course. He was very pleasant, so the elder girl put down her basket, and both sisters ran for the arrow. When they got back the basket, which they had left on the log, was gone. “Now,” said the younger girl, “we have disobeyed our mother. She told us not to answer anyone who spoke to us.” They had then nothing to do but to go home.

On reaching home they told their mother: “We met a man who begged us to bring his arrow. We put our basket on a log and when we got back it was gone.” The old woman did not scold much, although she was very sorry; she said that they could not love her or they would obey her words. Later she said to the youngest and to the second sister, “You must go for the young man.” Then they made more marriage-bread. The mother told the youngest: “If your sister wants to stop, make her go on. Do not speak to or answer any man.” The sisters traveled until they met the same old fellow. Thereupon the elder, who carried the basket, wanted to ask how far it was to the place where Big Earth lived, but the younger cautioned her, repeating her mother’s words. As they came up to him, however, he was so kind and pleasant and spoke so agreeably that the eldest asked how far it was to Big Earth’s lodge. “Oh,” he said, “she lives in the first lodge; it is not far from here.” Running around to the lodge, he told his wife to go to the other side of the fire with her child, as two girls were coming and he wanted the bread they brought, and, further, as he had informed them that Big Earth lived there. Then he threw ashes over his wife, making her look old.

By and by the two girls came in and, as the old man was painted and looked fine, they sat down by him—they thought he was the young man they were seeking. In a short while they heard some one coming, who kicked the door, saying: “Gesagwe! Gesagwe! They want you at the Long Lodge.”

Turning to the girls, the old man said: “My name is not Gesagwe. They always call me nicknames.” By and by the child cried out, “Oh, father!” Whereupon the old man explained, “The child’s father died yesterday and now he is calling for him.” After a time the runner came again, saying, “Gesagwe, the people are waiting for you.” Again he said, “They call me nicknames all the time.” The girls thought it was all right, and he told them to lie down and wait for him.

But the younger sister thought something was wrong. When the old woman lay down the girls went out. She said to her sister: “Something is wrong. This is not the man. He is the man we met, and our mother told us not to speak to anyone.” The elder said, “I suppose we have done wrong.” Then, putting into the bed two slippery-elm sticks and covering them up, they started on with their basket of marriage-bread. They heard dancing, and as they approached the source of the sound they saw a Long Lodge. Peeping in, they saw Gesagwe in the middle of the floor. The singers sang to him. Then everyone, rising, threw corn into his mouth. He had a blanket around him. They threw what they had into his mouth. A woman and her son sat by the fire, and they, too, looked very attractive. The younger sister said, “That is the young man we want.”

Going into the lodge, they walked up to the old woman, Big Earth, and put down the basket. Big Earth was pleased. When the dancing was over all the people went home. The man who was dancing went home. Seeing what he thought were two girls in his bed, he said: “Well, I must smoke. They have had a big council. They could not do anything. I was there.” Taking down a piece of deer’s tallow, he chewed it. Every time he spat it simmered on the fire. He lay down and one of the girls, he thought, pinched him. He said, “Wait until I get ready to lie down.”

Undressing himself, he started to get into bed, whereupon he found two rotten logs and a bed full of ants. Awfully angry, he scolded his wife and threw the logs out of doors.

The girls lived happily with Big Earth’s son for two months. At the end of that time he got bear meat and deer meat, which he put into very small packages. He made two loads of the meat, one for each of his wives. Then they all started with the meat to visit his mother-in-law. She had been very uneasy, thinking that her daughters had been deceived again. When she saw them coming with their husband she was pleased. After they had lived there some time, Big Earth’s son said he was going to take his mother-in-law to his own home. They all went to his place, where they lived happily together.

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40. Hinon and the Seneca Warriors

(A TALE OF THE WARS OF THE SENECA AND THE CHEROKEE)

Once a war party of Seneca while on the warpath against the Cherokee became very hungry. Seeing a bear, they chased it into its den, one of the party following it. When he had gone some distance into the den he could no longer see the bear, but he saw instead a fire burning briskly and three men sitting around it. The eldest asked the Seneca warrior why he had tried to shoot one of his men whom he had sent to entice him into the den. He continued, “I want to send word to the eldest man at your camp to tell him that his friend is here and wants some tobacco, and that tomorrow as many of his warriors as wish may come to see me here.” So the warrior went back to the camp of his comrades and reported what he had heard.

The next day, accompanied by five of his companions, each bearing a pouch of native tobacco, he returned to the den of the bears. When they gave the tobacco to the old man, he was very glad, and said to them: “I am thankful to you for this present of tobacco. I shall enjoy it a long time, for it will last me many days.” While in the den one of the warriors remarked, “Oh! I am very tired and sleepy.” Overhearing this remark, the old man said to him, “Lie down, then.”

When the others also had laid themselves down the old man arose, and going over to the spot where the first warrior lay, rubbed his body from his feet to his head. Then setting down a vessel which he held in one hand he proceeded to dismember this warrior’s body joint by joint until he had taken him to pieces. Placing each piece in a mortar, with a pestle he pounded the bones to a jelly, which he poured into a bowl. Then he took the bowl and the other vessel into another part of the den, where he left them. Returning and sitting down, he began to smoke.

After a while he called out: “My nephew, come out now. You have been there long enough.” When the young warrior came out, he appeared as light, fresh, and lithe as a boy. Then another of the Seneca warriors said, “Can you do this for me, too?” The old man answered, “Yes, if you wish me to do so.”

Then the warrior laid himself down, and the old man went through the same process as he had with the other warrior. After he had carried the two vessels into the remote part of the den, the old man, returning, began to smoke. Shortly he called out, “Oh, my nephew, you have now slept long enough!” At once the warrior arose and came forth so fresh and lithe that he felt no weight in his body. Thereupon another Seneca warrior asked the old man to treat him in the same manner. The latter man consented and, after going through the same process as that which renewed the others, this warrior, too, was made young and as light as a feather, and consequently was very happy.

Then a fourth warrior asked the old man to transform him likewise, but the old man refused, saying: “I have now done enough. I will tell you why I have taken the trouble to do this to four of your people. There is a large opening extending from one end of the world to the other. In this opening is a great rock, and in this rock is a man possessed of enormous horns. We have tried to kill him, but can not do so. Now, I want two of you to try to crush this rock and so kill him; but first you must go out and try your strength in orenda” (magic power). So, going out, they shot at a rock, which crumbled to pieces when they hit it. Then they shot at an enormous tree; this, too, they brought down when they hit it, leaving nothing but a stump. “Now,” said the old man, “you may go to the opening and see what you can do with that enchanted rock. Your companions may remain here; they will not die, for we never die here. I always help my grandchildren. I cover your trail whenever you need to conceal it. It is I who cause it to rain.”

The two transfigured warriors went to the opening, as directed, and seeing the great enchanted rock, they shot at it; then, returning to the old man, they told him what they had done. He quickly asked them, “Did you use all your orenda?” They replied, “No. We could have struck the rock a harder blow”; whereupon the old man said, “Go back there and employ all your magical strength.” Returning to the opening where the great rock stood, the two warriors shot it with all their orenda. After waiting for some time, they heard a person coming toward them. Soon they saw that it was a man carrying the head of an enormous horned snake securely strapped to his back. This man was the old man who had transformed them. Returning to the den, the two warriors said, “Now our work is done; the great horned snake is dead.” Then they went back to their homes.

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There was a little boy, Hodadeñon, who lived with his elder sister, Yenyentʻhwus, in a bark lodge.

When the sister went out to plant, she would fasten the door of the lodge so that nothing might harm her brother. She did not allow him to go out alone. To amuse him she got a raccoon’s foot, and also brought him a bow and some arrows. In playing he tossed up the raccoon’s foot, telling the arrows to strike it, and the arrows always hit the foot before it fell to the ground.

One day while Yenyentʻhwus was at home, a voice was heard in the upper part of the lodge, saying, “Mush, brother! Mush, brother!” Hodadeñon asked, “How is this? I thought we were alone in the lodge?” The sister said, “It is our poor brother; he is only just alive.” “Well, my sister, make him some mush,” said the little boy.

Hodadeñon heard the singing and the beating of time overhead. A little later they heard Hadjisgwas call out, “Tobacco!” and the little boy said, “My sister, our brother wants to smoke.” “Oh!” said she, “Our poor brother! he is barely alive; he lives on chestnut meal and tobacco.” Going aside, she got a big pipe, into which she put tobacco. Lighting it with a coal of fire, she gave it to the little boy, saying, “Take this up to your brother.” Hodadeñon went, with the words, “My brother, I have come with a pipe for you.” “Thank you,” said Hadjisgwas, and with one puff he so filled the room with smoke that he nearly smothered the boy, who had to hurry down to escape. Soon they who were below heard a sound as though Hadjisgwas blew through the pipestem and rapped out the ashes from the pipe. After rubbing his arms and legs, he began to sing. They thought his voice was stronger. Then Yenyentʻhwus went out planting, having first fastened the door so as to keep in her little brother.

When his sister had gone, Hodadeñon thought he would like to make some chestnut mush for his brother in the loft and to sing and dance for him. Finding the little pot under his sister’s couch, he took from it the piece of chestnut, every bit of which he scraped into the kettle. As it boiled he tapped the pot, which grew as large as any vessel. When the meal was cooked he poured it out—a great bark bowl full of chestnut mush. This he took up to the loft, saying, “My brother, I have made you another bowl of mush.” “Thank you, brother,” said Hadjisgwas, who ate the mush and, after rubbing himself, began to sing. He was stronger now, so he could sing a regular song. After Hodadeñon had come down and put away the kettle, he thought, “My brother must have a smoke.” Therefore he cut up all the tobacco there was and put it into the pipe, which he carried to the loft, saying, “My brother, I have brought you a pipe.” His brother said, “Thank you.” “After you have smoked, I wish you would sing while I dance,” said Hodadeñon.

Hadjisgwas sent out such a puff of smoke that the little boy had to hurry down the ladder to escape it. He had not been down long before his sister came in. He said to her, “Oh, my sister, I have made our brother some pudding.” “How did you make it?” she asked. “I cut up all the chestnut and boiled it,” he replied. “Oh, now he will die on your account,” she said. “After he ate the mush,” said Hodadeñon, “I gave him a smoke.” “How did you do that?” asked Yenyentʻhwus. “I shaved up the piece of tobacco, put it into the pipe, and gave it to him,” said he. “Now we shall surely lose our brother on your account,” said Yenyentʻhwus; “you have done great mischief.” “Well, my sister, where are the chestnuts? I will go and get more of them.”

“Those chestnuts,” she said, “grow at the eastern end of the world; and on this side of them, where the tobacco grows, are many wizards. Before you come to the lodge of the wizards is a river, over which trees are thrown to walk upon. Just beyond the river are two great rattlesnakes, one on each side of the path, which attack every one who goes that way. If you pass them safely, you will come to a great rocky mountain, so steep that no mere man can climb it. There is but one pass through that mountain, and just beyond the pass stand two Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, each one half as tall as a tree. If you should succeed in passing these, going farther you would come upon two men at the edge of an opening or clearing, who give the alarm the moment they see anyone, whereupon the wizards run out to attack whomsoever they find approaching. If you should make your way past these men and reach a knoll from which the lodge of the wizards can be seen, you would find there a woman walking back and forth on a platform in front of the lodge, who begins to sing as soon as she sees a stranger; straightaway the wizards, rushing out, kill him who is approaching.”

The next morning the boy said to his sister, “You will have to tie a belt around me now; I am going out.” She had to do what he asked, for she could not help doing it. Putting the belt on him and preparing him for the day, she said, “You must not go north nor far away; stay near the lodge.”

The next morning before daylight Hodadeñon, having made a good fire, called up his sister to cook. After they had eaten she warned him not to go north nor far away. She then went out to plant while he went hunting.

He had all he could do to carry it home. He put it in the corn mortar. When his sister saw it she said, “This is a partridge.”

She dressed the bird, took half and hung it up on a stick; the other half she cooked for herself and brother.

Hodadeñon ran back to the woods, the men chasing him to the edge of the opening, where they turned back. Hodadeñon went a short distance toward home; then, taking a long stick of wood from a pile which his sister had made, he carried it to the edge of the opening, where he stuck it into the ground, saying, “When the men in that lodge run after me with their clubs, do you fight against them to help me.” Then he brought another stick, which he put down by the side of the first, with the same words. He kept on in this way until he had a great many sticks standing in the ground.

Then, running to the lodge, he looked in again. The Odjineowa men, seeing him, said, “Let us be sure to kill him this time,” and rushed out with their clubs. The boy escaped, however, to the woods, and when the naked men came to the edge of the woods the sticks of Hodadeñon became people and fought, killing all the men. Thereupon Hodadeñon came, and after dragging the men one after another into their lodge, he set fire to it, burning them all up.

Having taken the sticks back to his sister’s woodpile, Hodadeñon went on until he came to the tall stump of a broken tree on which stood a man, who called out “Ogongaqgeni hiwaden, My eyes have outmatched yours, my nephew,” but the boy thought, “He does not see me,” so he passed by. The uncle did not see him. When the boy walked up, the uncle said: “You have come to me. I am an Hodiadatgon, a great wizard. What would you do if it should rain spears upon you?” “Oh,” said the boy, “I think my sister and I would be very glad, for we have no spears to fish with now.” Then he ran home with all his speed. When near the lodge he saw his sister go into it, whereupon he ran around it, saying, “Let our lodge be stone,” and straightway it was stone. Just then he heard a terrible roar, and a great rain of spears came down; some broke on the roof, others fell on the ground. When the shower of spears was over, his sister said, “You have gone toward the north.” “Yes, but I shall not go again,” replied the boy.

After a while he went out to play. While playing he thought, “I will go to my uncle and be the first to say, ‘Ogongaqgeni, My eyes outmatch yours.’ ” So he went on until he came as near his uncle as he could without being seen. Then he called a mole and, entering his body, he traveled underground up to the roots of the stump on which his uncle was standing. Coming out, he cried, “Ogongaqgeni hawknosen, What would you say if a fire should come and burn up that stump and the woods and all else there is about here?” “Oh, nephew, that is too much,” answered the uncle. “I did not say that is too much,” replied Hodadeñon, “when you sent a rain of darts on my sister and me.” At that moment thick smoke was seen coming, and soon the woods were in a blaze on every side. The fire spread to the spot where Hodadeñon’s uncle was. He fell off the stump, and, his head bursting, an owl came out of it and flew away.

“This is good sport,” said Hodadeñon, “I shall find another uncle, perhaps.” He traveled through the woods for a while until he came to a third opening. Far ahead in the center of it was a great rock, on which sat a Dagwanoenyent. Near the opposite side of the opening was a lodge. As Hodadeñon went up to the rock, the Dagwanoenyent called out, “Oh! you are my nephew. I have been wishing for a long time that you would come to see me; now we will play hide and seek.” Hodadeñon was to hide first. Dagwanoenyent faced the other way, and at that moment Hodadeñon, making himself into a flea (dewaqsentwus), jumped into the long bushy hair of Dagwanoenyent, where he hid. Then he called out, “You can not find me, uncle; you can not find me.” Dagwanoenyent looked all around—up in the air, in the trees, everywhere. At last, noticing a weed with a knot on its stem, he said, “Nephew, you are in that knot;” but the nephew was not there. Looking around a second time, he saw a knot on one of the trees. “You are in the knot on that tree, nephew.” “I am not,” answered Hodadeñon. When Dagwanoenyent saw that he had not found the boy he was terribly frightened. “There is danger,” said he, flying far away from the rock. Rising above the clouds, he sat on them. Then Hodadeñon called out from the long shaggy hair, “You can not see me, uncle; you can not see me.” “Oh!” said the uncle to himself, “I have come just by accident on the place where he is.” Then, flying off to an island in the sea, the old man stood there. Again Hodadeñon called out, “You can not see me, uncle; you can not see me.” He could not indeed see the boy, so he flew back to his place in the opening in the forest. Once more Hodadeñon cried, “You can not see me, uncle.” Dagwanoenyent replied: “I have lost the game, but I did not bet my head. Now, you may have control of these three witches,” pointing to three women who were pounding corn outside the lodge at the edge of the clearing. The women, who were man-eaters, were very angry when they heard the words of Dagwanoenyent, their servant, and ran to strike him with their clubs. They had the clubs raised to give the blow, when Hodadeñon willed their death, and they dropped lifeless. The boy and his uncle cut their heads off and burned their lodge. Now Dagwanoenyent and Hodadeñon became friends, and the uncle said, “Nephew, if ever you get into trouble, all you have to do is to think of me, and I will come and help you.”

The boy thought, “I have had sport enough, and shall now go to my sister.” After he had come in and sat down he began to laugh. His sister asked, “Why do you laugh?” “Oh, I laugh about what I have seen,” he said. “I have put an end to my uncle on the stump and my uncle who played dice; I have beaten my uncle Dagwanoenyent and frightened him terribly; and I have killed the three witches and cut off their heads and burned their lodge. This is why I laugh.” “Now,” said the sister, “I thank you, my brother, for many people have been deceived and killed by these persons.”

Hodadeñon went on until he came to the opening in the forest, at the farther end of which was the mountain wall. When he came to the wall he found the pass. As he was coming out on the other side he heard all at once hoⁿ hoⁿ hoⁿ hoⁿ, and saw the two Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, half as tall as the highest tree. “Keep still! Keep still!” said Hodadeñon: “I have brought you dumplings. You like dumplings.” So saying, he gave each one. Then he said: “You are free now. You need not guard this place any longer.” Thereupon they ran away.

Hodadeñon went on until he came to the woman’s skin walking along on a platform. Turning back, he peeled bark from a slippery-elm tree. Marked off into small pieces, he made it turn to wampum. Then he called a mole and, getting into it, said, “Carry me to the platform yonder.” The mole took him under the ground to the platform, whereupon he put his head out and gave the woman wampum, saying, “Keep quiet!” Leaving the mole, he went to a tree where there were great piles of chestnuts. Here he took up a nut and, splitting it, put one-half into his bag and hurried back. He had almost reached the woods when the woman on watch cried, “I have seen some one!” One of the three sisters, running out, looked at the woman, who changed her words, calling, “I have lied, Ogenowent.” The three sisters were very angry and had a mind to kill the watch. When the latter called again, “I have seen some one,” then the mother said, “Do your best, my daughters; do your best. It must be Hodadeñon; kill him and finish his family.”

The three sisters saw Hodadeñon far off in the distance. The eldest sister ran ahead. As she raised her club to strike, Hodadeñon disappeared into the ground and the woman, striking her kneepan with the club, fell and could go no farther. The next moment Hodadeñon was up, walking along again slowly. The second sister came up enraged, but as she raised her club to strike he disappeared into the ground. She, too, striking her kneepan, fell. The youngest sister tried, but with the same result, and then the old woman. All four were disabled, while Hodadeñon went back to his sister unharmed. He gave Yenyentʻhwus the half chestnut, saying, “Make plenty of mush for our brother, as much as he wants, and give it to him often.”

That night Hodadeñon told his sister to pound parched corn and make meal for him. In the morning he got ready for the road. Yenyentʻhwus put the food in a bundle on her brother’s back. It was so heavy that at noon he had only reached the edge of the clearing where their lodge was. Sitting down there, he ate his lunch. Yenyentʻhwus, who was watching him all the time, said, “Poor brother, I think he will come back soon.” She looked again, but he was gone.

In the evening Hodadeñon looked for a hollow tree in which to spend the night. Having found one, he crawled in, and was lying there at his ease when in the early part of the night he heard a man coming up. When he reached the tree, the man called out, “Hodadeñon, are you here?” “I am,” answered Hodadeñon. “Well,” asked the stranger, “what would you do if one of the Ganiagwaihe should come to eat you up?” “Oh, I should have fun with him,” said Hodadeñon.

The other went away and soon a very large Ganiagwaihe came. Pointing his arrow at it, Hodadeñon shot the bear in the neck. Then away ran the bear. The boy said, “I will go to sleep now, for there is no use in being troubled by such creatures.” The next morning when Hodadeñon came out he found that the trees had been torn up by the roots all along the track of the bear. At last coming to the place where the bear lay dead he thought, “I shall have nothing to do with such an ugly creature,” and drawing out his arrow, he left the bear’s carcass lying there.

The next evening he found another hollow tree, into which he crawled, prepared to sleep. But early in the night he heard some one come up to the tree and say: “Hodadeñon, you are now here. What would you do if a Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa should come to kill you?” “Oh! I should have sport with him,” replied Hodadeñon. “It is well,” the other returned, going away.

Very soon a Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa, a very large one, came up to the tree. At once Hodadeñon, drawing his bow, shot it with his magic arrow; then, retiring into the hollow tree again, he went to sleep. In the morning he saw a trail along which the trees were broken down and torn up by the roots. Following this trail he soon came to a point where he found the Sʻhagodiyoweqgowa lying dead. This being had a face of most terrifying aspect. Hodadeñon, remarking to himself, “I will not have anything to do with a creature of so malign aspect,” drew out his arrow from the body and went on his way.

The next morning Hodadeñon said to the old woman’s grandson, “Let us go to hunt game.” Agreeing to the proposition, the little boy made suitable preparations to accompany Hodadeñon. After going a long distance into the woods they found a large hollow tree frequented by a bear. Hodadeñon tapped the tree, saying to the occupant, “Thou who dwellest in this tree, come forth.” At once the bear came out, whereupon Hodadeñon shot it with an arrow, and the bear fell to the ground, dead. Together the two carried home the carcass of the bear. When they threw it on the ground in front of the door it made a great noise, causing the old woman to call out in fear, “What is that?” But when she learned what it was she was overjoyed. Having carefully dressed the bear, they cooked enough meat to make a good meal for all. As they gathered around the steaming bark bowl of meat and broth a young girl came in. The old woman asked her to eat with them, and she willingly accepted the invitation. The boys ate together and the girl and the old woman by themselves, as was the custom. When they had eaten their meal the strange girl asked for a piece of the meat to take home, and the old woman gave her a generous portion for her mother. On receiving it, the mother said, “Do you now give them corn bread and get some of the meat in exchange.” The girl did as her mother requested, receiving two good-sized pieces of meat for the corn bread. Feeling that others might like to have meat in exchange for bread, Hodadeñon said, “Let them have the meat for the corn bread, for corn bread is what we want now.”

Toward evening of the next day Hodadeñon, with the old woman and her grandson, went to the Long Lodge, where Hotgoendaqsais, tied to a post, was being tormented with firebrands. Before going into the assembly hall the boys gathered a bundle of dry reeds for the purpose of lighting the pipes of those who desired to smoke. Hodadeñon then said to his young companion, “You go to one of the fires in the Long Lodge and I will go to the other.” Passing into the assembly hall they found that there were already many people inside. When Hotgoendaqsais saw Hodadeñon he smiled as he seemed to recall him to his mind. One of the old women saw this and said: “The bound man smiled when these boys came into the room. It would seem that one of them is Hodadeñon.” After the old woman spoke Hotgoendaqsais turned his face away. At this time one of the chief men present said, “It is well that these boys have come in to bring coals for our pipes.” He said this because all the men who were smoking continually called the boys to bring them fire, and the boys carried the torches to all.

In the Long Lodge were two women who had two firebrands, and it was they who took the lead in torturing the man. First one of these two women would burn Hotgoendaqsais on one side from one of the fires, and then the other would burn him on the other side from the other fire; and each time a brand touched the victim he would cry out, and thereupon wampum fell in showers from his eyes instead of tears. Then all the people would rush forward to gather as much of the wampum as they could; one and all struggled and fought for it. When all had enough for that day they were dismissed by the chief, and then the chief herald would say, “Tomorrow you must all come and we shall have a much better time.”

The boy friends went home together, and on their way Hodadeñon said to his companion, “The young man whom they are torturing is my brother. Tomorrow I shall destroy the place and all the people who are in it.”

The next day, as he had done before, the herald Hadyuswus came with the invitation to the lodgehold (household) to be present in the torture chamber that evening; then he hurried away. Thereupon Hodadeñon told his boy friend to caution his grandmother with these words: “Do you go to the back part of the village to warn all our relations not to go to the Long Lodge this evening, for my good brother is going to destroy all the maneaters and their home this very night.” So, going forth, the old woman informed all her relations to remain at home that night, for her grandson was going to destroy all the maneaters and their home. In the evening Hodadeñon said to his little brother, “Do not go into the Long Lodge. I shall go in alone. You must remain outside.”

When Hodadeñon entered the torture chamber he heard the people saying that the two torturing brands would not burn, surmising that they were not dry enough. But the wizards knew well why they would not burn—they themselves were being overmatched by superior orenda (magic power). Finally the chief said: “We might as well take a rest, and in the meantime the firebrands will get dry and burn again. So let us lie down.” Hodadeñon then brought deep sleep on all who were inside the chamber of death. When they were all fast asleep, quickly unbinding his brother from the post where he had been tied, he carried him out to his new brother—the old widow’s grandson; then, closing the door of the Long Lodge, he fastened it securely. Thereupon he ran around the lodge, saying aloud, “I want this Long Lodge to become flint, so strong that the greatest wizard can not escape from it, and then I want it to become red-hot at once.”

Instantly the Long Lodge became flint. When it was red-hot the wizards ran around on the inside in an attempt to escape, but they could not. One said, “I shall go out of the smoke hole,” while another shouted, “I shall get out through the ground,” but not one was able to escape from his doom. After a while the roof fell in upon the devoted wizards, whose heads burst with the intense heat; from out the chief’s head there flew a horned owl; from the heads of others, owls of various kinds; and from those of still others, a red fox, a gray fox, and a nighthawk.

After the annihilation of the wizards Hodadeñon took his brother, Hotgoendaqsais, to the old widow’s lodge. The old woman was very glad and said: “He is my own grandson. I came for him years ago, but I was myself captured by the wizards and I have had to remain here in captivity.”

The next morning Hodadeñon said to his grandmother, “Tell all the prisoners to come here, lest evil befall the innocent.” When they had all come to the lodge of the old woman, Hodadeñon said, “We will now go through the village and kill all the children of the wizards and anyone else who is left of the maneaters, for some of them may not have been present in the Long Lodge last night.” So, going forth they killed all the relations of the maneaters and burned their lodges.

After that they went outside of the village, where they found great piles of bones which once belonged to persons whom the wizards had killed. These they collected near a great hickory tree. When all had been gathered together, Hodadeñon pushed against the tree, crying out to the bones, “Rise, my friends, or this tree will fall on you!” Instantly from the heap of bones living men sprang up. In the confusion of the moment sufficient care had not been taken to put together the bones belonging to the same persons, hence one had an arm too short, another a leg; but Hodadeñon went around among them stretching and arranging these defective limbs. Then he said to their possessors: “I have now brought you to life again. You must remain in one place for two days while I go to get meat for you.”

So, selecting a comfortable spot, they patiently waited. Hodadeñon went out to hunt and killed a great quantity of game. He sent men to bring it into the camp. These were gone all day, but they brought in an abundance of meat. When all had returned, Hodadeñon said: “Now, my brother is tired. Stay here and rest. I must go away for a short time, for I have much work to do.”

Thereupon Hodadeñon started away. As he hurried along he heard the sound, “Dum, dum, dum!” This, he knew, was caused by the man whose name was Deagahgweoses, in making tobacco, which he pounded with a mallet. When he arrived at the lodge he found the old man sitting inside hammering tobacco and singing, He yondyengonni goyengwayen gens, signifying “Wherever one makes tobacco, one possesses tobacco customarily.” And when the tobacco rolls were ready he would tie them with bark cords. Addressing him, Hodadeñon said several times, “Well, uncle, I have come to your lodge,” but the old man gave him no recognition. Then Hodadeñon struck the old man a blow on the head with a small mallet which was lying near, saying at the same time, “I have come to visit you, uncle.” But even then Deagahgweoses paid no attention to the visitor. Again Hodadeñon struck him a blow, saying, “Uncle, I have come to visit you.” Then the old man exclaimed, “I do think that the mice have thrown down the stone bowl,” but he kept on at work pounding his tobacco. So Hodadeñon struck him still another severe blow, whereupon the old man raised his upper lids, which hung down over his face to his chin. Carefully tying them back with bark cords, he scraped out the filth from his eyes with a clamshell, saying, “I think that some one has come into the lodge.” Then, looking around and seeing Hodadeñon, he asked him, “For what do you come here? What do you want?” Hodadeñon replied, “I have come for tobacco.” The old man refused tobacco to his visitor, saying, “You will get no tobacco here.” Then starting up, exclaiming, “I will kill you!” he pursued Hodadeñon with a large club out of doors and around the lodge. Hodadeñon outran him and was soon far ahead of him. Finally, turning and facing the old man, he shot two arrows into his body. Thus died Deagahgweoses.

Then Hodadeñon cast into the air toward the west a large quantity of tobacco, saying as he did so, “Go ye to the lodge of my sister, Yenyentʻhwus.” Far off in the west Yenyentʻhwus picked up the rolls of tobacco which fell on her doorstep, with the words, “I thank you, brother; I am so thankful to you, brother.” When Hodadeñon had sent home all the tobacco he burned up the lodge of Deagahgweoses. Then he went back to the place where he had left his newly recovered brother and the other men whom he had brought to life. Having arrived there, he told the men to go home if they so wished. Those who remembered whence they had come started, but those who did not know said, “You must take us with you.”

The next morning they set out for home. After journeying for some time, Hodadeñon, halting the company, said to them, “You have with you two of my uncles, who can show you the rest of the way, for I must go on by myself.” It was his desire to go on alone and thus to reach home first. When he arrived at the lodge of his sister, he told her that he had brought to life all their relatives who had been captives, and that he had also saved their brother from the tortures of the wizards. He informed her that these were coming with others who were not relatives. “Now,” said he, “we must make preparations to receive them and to welcome them to our place.”

Hodadeñon thought that he would make a number of commodious lodges of equal size and of like appointments; so he marked out certain spaces with his feet, walking sidewise, each area being as large as the lodge he desired to stand therein. Then he wished for the lodge with suitable provisions and whatever else was needed. As soon as he wished it, the lodge came into being with everything in it as he desired. In this peculiar way he made a long row of lodges. He made his own lodge also in the same way, but he caused it to be larger than any of the others. When he had prepared everything he went to meet the people who were coming. Having joined them, he brought them to the place he had made ready, where he gave each one his own home. Hodadeñon gave each of his relations a couch in his own lodge; but there were not people enough to occupy the place, so Hodadeñon said, “All who belong here have not yet come home.” Here he referred to his father, mother, and sister, who had been killed at the chestnut trees, and it was his intention to go after them; but he could not mention this lest he should put those who had killed them on their guard. They would have heard his words and so would have learned exactly what were his intentions.

So he started, and as he went on he heard this same sound from time to time. Directing his course toward the spot whence came the sound, at last he reached the edge of a village. Entering the first lodge he encountered, he met nobody there. He then went to a second lodge, and that, too, was empty. Thus he entered every lodge until he came to the center of the village; there was no one in any of them. He stood looking on every hand, quite discouraged. At last, seeing smoke arising from the opposite side of the village, he directed his way toward it. On reaching it he entered the lodge, where he saw an old man on a couch. Raising himself and throwing off the skin mantles which covered him, the old man said to Hodadeñon: “You must take my life at once, for you have caused all my pain and misery.” Hodadeñon replied: “It is not I who have done this. It may be my companion, who looks exactly like me. I am here to see whether it is he who is making all this trouble.” The old man said: “It is time for him to come now; and on this account I made my niece hide in that room yonder. We are now the only persons left in this place.” Hodadeñon, going to the room indicated, said to the young woman in there: “I have come to see how that man keeps the agreement he made with me. If he has taken to eating human flesh, he must kill me before he eats more, and to aid me you must do just what I tell you to do. So help me all you can. I shall fight with him for 10 days. We shall begin here, and shall continue fighting westward. At the end of 10 days we shall return, fighting as we come. At that time there will be nothing left of us except our heads. You must kill your dog and try out its fat, and when the tenth day comes you must have it ready in a vessel, boiling hot. But you must not mistake me for him, for if you do I shall be lost and you will die.”

As they came out of the woods into the opening there was nothing left of them but the skeletons and the skulls—frightful to look at as they rushed at each other and then fell back exhausted. When they closed again the skeletons were gone; nothing remained except the skulls, naked and bloody. After the encounter one of the skulls, rolling up to the young woman, said, “Now is the time to do what I told you.” Then the other skull, rolling up immediately, said the same thing; but she kept her eyes on the second skull, on which she poured hot dog fat. “Now you have killed me,” said the other skull. She paid no heed to this charge, but, taking up the skull on which she had poured dog fat, she carried it into the lodge. In a short time Hodadeñon had regained his flesh and he was again in good health. To the young woman he said, “I thank you for what you have done for me, for you have faithfully performed what I asked and have thus saved my life.”

The old man, recognizing an obligation to him, said to Hodadeñon: “I have made up my mind to say that since you have delivered us from a horrible death you should have my niece for a wife if she suits you. What is your pleasure in the matter?” Without hesitation Hodadeñon replied: “It is well. I accept your niece as a wife, but I must cure you first.” So, spitting on his hands to endue them with the healing power of his orenda (magic power), he rubbed the body of the old man where the flesh had been cut away, and immediately it was made whole and well.

“Now,” said Hodadeñon to his two companions, “I want your assistance in what I am about to do.” Then he led them to the edge of the forest, where lay a great quantity of human bones scattered around on the ground. These they proceeded to gather together in some kind of order near a large hickory tree. When they had collected all the bones, Hodadeñon pushed against the tree, shouting, “Oh, you dry bones! Behold, the great hickory is about to fall on those who sleep here. Arise, friends.” At that moment the bones arose as living men, and Hodadeñon said to them: “Be ye alive now, and go back to your several homes. There is now nothing to trouble you.” So each man went his way.

Hodadeñon took the old man’s niece for a wife, and they started for home. But after going some distance Hodadeñon said, “I have one more thing to do. I must go after the chestnuts, so you go on and I will overtake you.”

So starting off, he changed his course and continued his journey until he came to the ridge of a hill, near which was a woman on watch, whose task required her to walk back and forth on a kind of raised platform. Before going up to her and revealing himself Hodadeñon got slippery-elm bark, which he turned into wampum. Then hailing a mole, he said to it, “Take me to that woman on the platform, but do not let her see us; so pass beneath the surface of the ground and emerge under the platform.” The mole, obeying, took Hodadeñon, who had reduced his size by magic, into its body and, going underneath the surface, did as it was ordered. It emerged very near the place where the woman was passing to and fro. Coming out of the body of the mole, Hodadeñon said to her, “Friend, I give you this wampum as a reward to you not to give the usual alarm on my account.” She accepted the wampum.