Note 198 — FICTION (continued 7)

Doonongaes journeyed on a whole month. One morning he came to an opening called Gendagwen(t),198 where he saw nothing. Having passed through this he saw a woman. He ran forward swiftly, but could not overtake her. She went with such speed that they were the same distance apart at night, when he thought, “I can not catch her, so I may as well camp.” Picking up some dry sticks, he made a fire. On looking around he saw that the woman had camped just ahead. “Oh, pshaw!” thought he, “I will go there.” He started, but as he advanced so did she. When he came to her fire there was no one there, so he said, “I will stay here.” Soon he saw another fire ahead, which he knew to be the fire of the woman whom he was following, whereupon he said: “I am ashamed to stop here, so I will go on.” He reached the second fire, but no one was there. Then he said, “I will go back to my own fire and stay there.” When he reached his camping place the woman was back again at her first fire. He followed her all the next day, always at the same distance. On reaching an opening she went into a lodge. Following, he found her sitting on one side of the fire, and an old man on the other side with his head bowed. Seating himself near the woman, Doonongaes asked her, “Do you not want to marry me?” She made no reply. He asked again, “Will you marry me?” He asked three times, but received no reply. Then the old man, who was a Dagwanoenyent (i.e., Cyclone), raising his head, said to the girl: “You have brought home game. Wash my big kettle, granddaughter, and boil some water, and I will kill the game.” At this he began to sharpen his flint knife, whereupon Doonongaes ran out, with the old man following him. Doonongaes mused: “What trouble comes to me: I shall die now. This is because I tried to catch the girl.” The old man was close upon him now, and as he lifted his knife to strike, Doonongaes stepped aside, so the old man cut his own knee. He fell down on account of the pain, but spitting on his hands, he rubbed the wound, thus curing it instantly. Then springing up, he ran on. All day he followed Doonongaes. Many times he cut himself as he did the first time, but always healed the wound with spittle. At sunset Doonongaes said, “What a shame! I ought to kill that man.” Turning himself into a snake, he tore him to pieces. As he threw off the legs, he said, “I want you to become owls,” and away they flew, owls. He made the old man’s flesh into all kinds of birds.199