Part 2 — SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (continued 3)

At last the youngest, the seventh, son informed his sister that she and he would have to follow the path of their father. The time was winter, but they started, following the trail in a light snow. As they set out, the young boy, seizing his diminutive cur, dashed it against the ground, whereupon it immediately arose in the form of a very large dog. At this the boy sent the dog away, as it was of no further use to him. The brother and sister traveled the entire day, and when they were nearly famished with hunger they came to a lodge just as it was growing dark. In this lodge they found, to their great delight and comfort, embers still burning and before the fire, which was nearly out, a large piece of broiled venison still attached to the sticks and skewers. By adding fuel to the fire they succeeded in building it up so that it would last during the night. Having eaten the broiled venison, and being very tired, they lay down near the fire and were soon fast asleep.

In the morning they ate the remainder of the venison and at once resumed their journey. They had no provisions to eat on the way, but they traveled onward until the darkness made it difficult for them to proceed farther, when, tired, hungry, and ready to drop from exhaustion, they reached another lodge. In this they found dying embers and a substantial piece of broiled venison. As on the previous night, they rebuilt the fire, and when they had eaten the venison they lay down to sleep beside the fire.

Next day the remains of the venison furnished their breakfast. Just before starting the boy found a flint and a stone ax, which he took with him. Toward nightfall a blinding snowstorm set in, but the little wanderers kept on their way. When it was quite dark they came to a rude covert formed by the interlocking of fallen trees, the united limbs of pine and cedar holding the snow in such wise as to form a very rude shelter. Under this retreat the two little wanderers found a place full of dry leaves. Outside of this shelter the snow had fallen to so great a depth that it overtopped their heads in many places. In this refuge they decided to remain for the night, although they had nothing to eat and no hope of getting anything. Nothing daunted by the cheerless prospect before them, the boy and his sister kindled a fire with dried twigs and other fuel. As soon as the fire began to radiate its heat a covey of quail came out from under the branches of the trees forming the shelter. The boy at once killed several of these, which he dressed and cooked for himself and his sister. After eating their supper the boy added to the fire enough fuel to keep it until morning; then they retired for the night, burrowing among the dry leaves, not far from the fire, for covering. Next morning the fire was built up again, after which the boy found and killed more quail for breakfast. After cooking and eating these, they awaited the abatement of the storm before starting out on the trail.

During the day an old woman, who lived alone in the vicinity and quite aloof from her people, left her lodge to look for hickory bark to keep up her fire in order to prevent the cold from freezing her to death. Noticing smoke issuing out of a great bank of snow at some distance, she went to see what kept the fire from going out, and she was astonished to find the small boy and his sister. Moved with pity, the little old woman took the children from their uncomfortable place and brought them to her lodge, where she placed before them what little food she had. They ate their fill. The children were indeed very glad to be with a friend. The little old woman told them that she desired to have them remain with her as her own children.

Every day thereafter, in the same manner, the boy sent out his arrow to hunt game animals for the food required by him and his little sister and their adopted grandmother. Sometimes the arrow would kill a bear, sometimes a deer; it killed game of all kinds, and the small family had plenty to eat and some to spare, in addition to their constant feasting. Thus they lived several years, and the boy grew to young manhood. During this time the youth did not go beyond the immediate neighborhood of the lodge in which he lived; and he had no friends except a certain young man, one of the people of the region, who came to see him frequently and who was his close friend.

At this time the presiding chief of the settlement offered to give his comely daughter to the best bowman and hunter among the young men of his people. So he appointed a day when all the young men should go out to hunt deer and bear to provide a suitable feast for the occasion. Now the friend of our future hero came to the lodge to tell him of the occasion, but he did not tell him, however, that the prize for the winner would be the chief’s daughter; he merely asked the young man to accompany him as his partner. So they started out together to hunt, but they did not exert themselves very much in killing game animals. The young man with the enchanted arrow occasionally sent it out to hunt for them. When finally they resolved to start for home, the arrow had killed in all twenty-four deer, so the share of each was twelve; but five or six deer apiece was the average of those who went out singly to win the prize for marksmanship. On the return of the hunters to the village they learned of the great success of the two youths who had gone as partners, and they could not repress a feeling of envy toward them. Notwithstanding the result of the hunt the chief said, still withholding his daughter from the winner: “I will fulfill my promise after we have made many feasts with all the deer which have been killed for this occasion.” Our future hero, however, still did not know what he had justly won as a reward of the efficiency of his enchanted arrow.

During the festivals the envious young men conspired to put this unsuspecting youth out of the way. In carrying out this resolution they invited him to accompany them to an island on which they assured him there was an abundance of game, and that they would return in time for the festivities on the morrow. So he consented to go with them to this place, in which they had agreed among themselves to leave him to die of hunger and exposure. On leaving the village they went to a large lake containing an island, from which the mainland was not visible in any direction. After landing on the island the party dispersed, ostensibly the better to hunt. Having previously agreed on their method of procedure, the conspirators waited until they saw that the youth had gotten some distance into the forest. Thereupon they returned at once to the landing place and stole silently away, leaving their victim to die from hunger or to be devoured by unknown monsters which, it was said, infested the island.

Their intended victim kept on hunting, however, and finding only two partridges, killed them and carried them along with him. When it became so dark that he could not see, he returned to the landing place to seek for his supposed friends, only to find that they had gone off, leaving him to his fate. Seeking the tallest pine tree that he could find, the young hunter climbed very high, to a point where the limbs were closely interlocked. Having cut off a number of overhanging branches, he placed them on the top of those on which he desired to rest, thus forming a fairly comfortable resting place. Seating himself on this perch of boughs, he soon began to doze.

Some time during the night he was roused from his slumbers by the barking of dogs, which were following his trail. These belonged to a Son of the Winter God, who was hunting for human flesh to eat. Finally the dogs came up to the tree in which the youth was concealed, whereupon he threw down to them at once one of the partridges which he had been fortunate enough to kill. Seizing this, the dogs went off fighting for it. Shortly they returned to the tree and began to bay at him. At this he threw to them the other partridge, with the result that they again went off as before. Seeing the dogs eating what he believed they had treed, the Son of the Winter God called them off to another part of the island, and they did not return hither.

In the morning the youth, descending from his lofty perch, went to the shore of the island at the point where the party had made a landing. Finding no boat there he struck his breast several smart blows, which caused his stomach to give up a canoe no larger than a plum pit, provided with a pair of oars. Several sharp blows on the diminutive canoe with his enchanted arrows immediately caused it to assume the proportions of an ordinary canoe. The same treatment made the pair of oars assume the size of ordinary oars. Placing his canoe in the waters of the lake and boarding it the young hunter soon rowed his way to the shore whence he had been kidnaped by the envious young men. On landing the young man drew the canoe ashore, and then striking it several sharp blows with his enchanted arrow, it quickly assumed its former diminutive size, and he in like manner restored the pair of oars to their former dimensions, after which he swallowed them again. Thereupon he wended his way at once to his own home with his adopted grandmother.

It was not long before it became village gossip that the young man had returned home. Then his friends sent for him, asking that he attend the shooting match and feast of venison given by the chief, whence he had been kidnaped and taken to the island to die. Notwithstanding this treatment, the young man consented to go to the chief’s entertainment.

Finally, the chief said to the Master of Ceremonies: “Now, after this, let each man try only once more and then let those who have failed to hit the target retire … from the group of candidates, and place them in a separate place from those who have not made this last attempt.” This was ordered, and as quickly as a man took his last shot he was placed at a distance from those who had not yet made the trial, lest some mistake be made and someone be unwittingly given two or more chances. Finally, when all the candidates had shot, it was suddenly discovered that Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ had failed to take his chance. All had failed before him to hit the hen-harrier hawk, so his friend urged him to make the attempt, but he as steadily refused, saying, “I do not want to kill it.” Notwithstanding his positive refusal, his friend placed his bow and arrow in his hands, and with Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ resting his hand upon it, he pulled the arrow to its full length and then let it fly. The arrow shot upward and transfixed the body of the hen-harrier hawk, which fell to the ground. Then the chief himself informed Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ that in winning the contest for marksmanship he had also won his daughter as the prize of the victor in this contest.

Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ informed the chief that he had not known until then that there would be a prize for the winner in this contest for marksmanship, and that as he himself had been adjudged the winner of the contest and also of the chief’s daughter, he felt constrained to thank him for thus considering him worthy of these great honors. The chief replied by bidding him to repair to his lodge to claim his bride. This Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ did.

When the competitors and suitors saw that Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ had won the prize for which they had striven for so many days, they were greatly chagrined, and, moved by jealousy and malice, they went forth and secured the aid of sorcerers to compass the death of their more fortunate competitor. The sorcerers were asked to permit Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ to live with his wife until the dawn of the following day, when a messenger of death should pierce his heart so that he should die.

With a light heart Djĕñgoʹʻseʻ repaired to the nuptial bed of his newly won spouse and they two were very happy. But at the dawn of day on the morrow he expired in his wife’s arms. Stricken with grief, the widowed bride, divining the cause of her affliction, went out of the lodge to see how near daybreak it was and lest her lamentations would disturb the repose of the spirit of her dead husband. She was not afraid … for she was alone in the yard adjoining the lodge. Presently she heard the door, which she had just closed after her, open, and looking back again she saw her husband come out of the lodge and walk briskly past her without speaking to her. At once she followed him as rapidly as she could, but she could not overtake him. She did not become weary in her pursuit, feeling no fatigue nor hunger. She kept up her pursuit all that night, all the next day, and all of the following night. Thus, for three nights and days she kept closely on the trail of her husband. He had, of course, outwalked her, and so she could not see him on the trail ahead of her.

Taking the two pheasants and thanking the two men for their kindness, the woman again followed the trail of her husband. When she had gone a long distance she saw the couchant panthers guarding the way of death and the dead. Following the instructions of the two men, and throwing a pheasant to each, she quickly passed them. After following the trail a long time, she finally came to the third passageway. The man who guarded it said to her: “What do you here? What brings you to this place, seeing that you are not dead?” She answered him: “I am following the trail of my husband, which leads through this passageway.” Then she briefly related to him the events which had caused her to undertake the journey hither. The warder replied: “I will assist you in recovering your husband. You must take with you this gourd, which is closed with a tendon, for in this receptacle you will have to bring back the soul of your husband, carefully shut up. You must take also this small gourd bottle, which contains the fat or oil of man; you must take it with you for you will need it. When you reach a very large strawberry field stretching on both sides of the path, you must rub some of this oil on the palms of your hands. In this field you will see an elderly woman picking berries; she is the hostess of this country, and she will aid you in all things, telling you just what to do. After anointing your hands with the oil you must hold them up with the palms turned toward the berry picker. Now start on your way.”

When night came the approaching whoops of the gathering ghosts could be heard. Finally, one by one they began to enter the lodge of the Mother of Ghosts. At once the hostess began to sing and to beat on the drum used in the Great Feather dance. Then the concealed guest heard the ghosts begin to dance. The ghost of her husband, however, had not yet entered the lodge. When they had danced through a number of songs there was a short recess, to give the dancers an opportunity to rest and to readjust their apparel and ornaments. At last, the hostess asked the bystanders: “Where is the newcomer?” They answered that he was outside of the lodge, being still bashful among so many strangers. The hostess then said: “Bring him into the lodge; let him, too, dance and be merry.” So they persuaded him to enter the lodge, and when the hostess again began to sing and beat the drum he joined in the dancing.

After dancing a short time the dancers, sniffing the air, said: “What now? We smell the odor of a human being!” At once they started to flee from the room, but the hostess chidingly said: “Oh, pshaw! It is only I that you smell, for I am now getting very old again.” So they did not leave the room, but began to dance again. When the ghost of the newly arrived husband approached quite close to the hostess, she attempted to grasp him, but he deftly eluded her hand, and the dancers all fled from the room. But the hostess remonstrated with them, saying: “Oh, pshaw! It is only I scratching myself. Why do you flee from me?”

The ghosts were finally persuaded to reenter the lodge and resume the dance. Before long another opportunity presented itself, and the hostess succeeded in seizing the ghost of the newly arrived husband, while all the other ghosts escaped from the room. Quickly uncorking the gourd bottle, the hostess soon compressed the ghost therein, and securely closing it with its tendon stopper she called the embodied guest from her place of concealment and hurriedly gave her the gourd containing the husband’s life, and also the small gourd which contained the oil of the body of man. Then she said to the now highly excited woman: “Be you gone now! Be quick, lest they see you; the man at the first passageway will fully instruct you what to do to have your desire fulfilled. So go.”

Hurrying from the lodge into the darkness the woman followed the narrow trail. When she reached the first passageway, its warder said: “When you arrive at your home stop up with fine clay the nostrils, the ears, and every other opening or outlet of your husband’s body, and then rub the oil of man over his body. When you have finished this task, carefully uncork into his mouth the gourd bottle containing his life, in such manner that his life can not escape, but will reenter his body and so reanimate it again.” The embodied woman agreed to follow these instructions. Then the warder, giving her two roasted pheasants, which were to serve as sops to the two couchant panthers guarding the middle passageway, wished her a safe and auspicious journey home, and bade her start.

The woman thereupon departed from the first passageway, walking as rapidly as possible. She hastened along until she came to the middle passageway. There she gave one of the roasted pheasants to each of the panthers, and, quickly passing through the passageway, continued her journey. Finally she came to the first passageway, through which she went, and then, after traveling for three days and nights, she safely reached home.

Here she quickly prepared the body of her husband as she had been directed to do, filling every opening and outlet with fine clay mixed with deer fat to soften it, and then she carefully rubbed it with the oil of man. As soon as she had completed the preliminary work she carefully and anxiously uncorked the gourd bottle containing the life of her husband into the mouth of the body thus prepared. In a few moments she was elated to see her husband’s body come to life again.

This experience rendered the body of the husband invulnerable to the spells and incantations of sorcerers and wizards. The faithful wife and her resurrected husband dwelt together in peace and health and happiness until, in the fullness of years, they died and went to the land of the Mother of Ghosts.

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117. The Legend of Hodadeñon and His Elder Sister

It is said that once there lived together all alone in a very long lodge an infant brother and his elder sister. The only remaining fire burned at the end of the lodge. In this place for some years abode these two, undisturbed by any unusual event.

One day the brother said to his sister: “Oh, elder sister! what truly is the reason that we two live here alone in a lodge which is so very long?” In answer his sister said: “Indeed, we have been quite numerous in the not distant past; our relations, who have lived and are now dead, filled this lodge on both sides of the fire pits, to the doorways. The sorcerers have caused them all to perish; and this explains why you are called Hodadeñon, for you are the last one not under enchantment.”

It was evident that the young boy would become powerful in the exercise of orenda (magic power). It happened one day that he said: “Elder sister, you must make me a bow and an arrow.” She had great compassion for him, so she answered: “Let it be so.” Then she made a bow and an arrow, using on them her best skill. Having completed her task, she gave them to him. “Thank you, elder sister,” he said; “now I will hunt. Hereafter you and I will regularly feed on meat. Now I will go to hunt.” She said: “Let it be so.”

Then the boy went out of the lodge. His voice continued to break forth as he went murmuring right there round about the lodge. He did not go far away. In the evening he entered the lodge, saying: “Ho, my elder sister, I come, having killed nothing. Tomorrow, very early in the morning, you must arise and prepare food for me. Then I will go to hunt, for very early in the morning game wanders about in the clearings.” In the evening they became quiet and slept.

At the dawn of day the boy spoke, saying: “Elder sister! come now, arise. You must prepare food for me. As soon as I finish eating I will go to hunt.” Arising, she prepared food, which was soon ready for him. As soon as he finished eating, he said: “Now, elder sister, I will go to hunt.” “Let it be so,” she said in reply, thinking that he would not go far away, as he was still so very small.

He went out of the lodge early in the morning. After a long time his voice was no longer heard. Thereupon his sister went out, wondering, “Where has he gone?” She looked around, going from place to place, but nowhere was he to be found. Then she thought, “He will get lost.” Soon after she had reentered the lodge, the sun being nearly set, it happened that all at once a noise again arose, as if something had struck the door—then suddenly Hodadeñon pushed his body against it and entered the lodge. He said: “Elder sister, it is a fact that I have been to hunt for game. I have killed a something, I know not what [it is]. Blacklegs, perhaps, it is called; banded-tail, perhaps, it is called, this thing that I have killed. So to the spot you and I must go, and you must take along the ‘burden cradle,’ for in that will the body be brought, as it is of great size.” “Let it be so; go on,” she said. “You would better take the burden cradle,” he said again. “Wah, I will carry its body easily,” she said. “Wah, you must be very strong,” he replied. “Go; let it be so,” she admonished him.

Then the two started. Having arrived at the place, he told her: “Right there I stood, and there it walked. Thus [I did] with my arrow, saying, ‘sî, sî, sî, sî, stop thou, first.’ So it did stand, forsooth. From here I shot, so that I hit it right in the center [of its body], whereupon it fell backward, saying, ‘daʻ, daʻ, daʻ, daʻ.’ Toward it I ran, crying, ‘Do not break my arrow that I prize so highly,’ while it rolled itself about in the dust.” While they slowly made their way along Hodadeñon did not cease telling what had happened. At times his sister would say: “Come, go thou on.” Suddenly he said: “Right there it lies. Do you think you can indeed carry it back?” “Wah,” she said, seizing it by the neck and starting homeward, adding: “Come; go thou on.” “Goh, it is true, thou art strong, elder sister,” he said.

It was a usual thing in the evening that this boy did not go to sleep at once. Continually in the dark noises were heard here and there; then, again, under the bed these noises were heard. What he was doing was not known. So the elder sister said: “My younger brother, what are you usually doing making noises in the dark, yes, even under the bed, for long periods; and, too, you go about laughing?” “Well,” said he, “I will tell you. It is this. I am engaged in hunting fleas. They are very palatable, tasting good to me. I have now told you. Whenever one escapes I laugh. So never ask me this again.” He added, “Now again I will go to hunt.” “Let it be so,” she said in reply.

Thereupon the two started. She followed him a long distance, when at last he stopped and she did likewise. He said: “Right here I stood when suddenly yonder there walked a very large animal, and when I said, ‘Tci, tci, tci, tci, tci. Stop thou first.’ Just this way [indicating] I did with my arrow. I shook my arrow. The animal stopped. Then I said, ‘What, indeed, is thy name? Bald-head, it may be, you are named; Snot-nose, it may be, you are named.’ Then I shot it there so that the arrow fixed itself just in the center of the body, making it fall backward, saying [with its wings] du, du, du, du; it fluttered loudly its wings as it fell backward. Thereupon then I ran thither, saying as I went, ‘Do not break my arrow’; which I prize so much. Then I went near the place where it lay. So right there it lies.”

Hodadeñon then asked: “Gwe. What is its name?” She replied: “O’soont it is called.” Seizing it by the neck and throwing it on her shoulder she started homeward bearing the body, and said: “Come, go thou on; let us go home.” So they started homeward. They had not gone far when he said: “O’soont, is it not the name of what I have killed?” “That is it,” she said. Soon afterward he again said: “O’soont, is it not the name of what I have killed?” “That is it,” she again replied; “go thou onward; so be it.”

Once more they started forward. It was troublesome to answer him as they went along, for every little while he would stop again, saying: “My elder sister, what is the name of what I have killed?” Her answer was always: “O’soont is its name. Come, do you go on.” She became thoroughly provoked with him because at short intervals during the day he kept asking her the same question over and over.

When finally they reached their home, he asked: “Does it taste good?” She replied: “Hoh, it tastes good. It must be accompanied with hulled-corn mush.” After plucking the animal and cutting it up, she boiled it in a kettle over the fire. While it was cooking she exclaimed: “Hoh, how fat it is,” for the oil came bubbling up in the kettle. Again Hodadeñon stood around and kept saying: “My elder sister, does it taste good?” She would reply, “Woh, it does, indeed, taste good.” Then she hulled corn and made meal, from which she prepared mush to go with the boiled meat. Having removed the kettle from the fire and skimmed off the fat, she mixed it with the corn-meal mush. Next pouring the meat into a bark bowl and the corn-meal mush into another, the sister said: “Come now, let us two eat together.” While they ate the boy still kept saying: “Elder sister, I do think that the thing I killed tastes good. It is called O’soont, and it certainly does taste good.” They finished their meal, whereupon the boy said: “Tomorrow again I shall go to hunt. This time perhaps I shall kill something which will indeed be much larger than what I have killed already.” Soon it became night, and they lay down to sleep. But as for Hodadeñon he spent the night going about hunting fleas, laughing when one would escape him.

When morning dawned the boy said: “Come, my elder sister, arise now. The game animals habitually go about the open spaces very early in the morning.” The sister having warmed up things [to eat], they ate their breakfast. When they were through the boy said: “Now I shall go out to hunt.” With these words he went out of the lodge. After going around the lodge murmuring for a long time, all of a sudden his murmurs ceased. He was now nowhere about the lodge, for he had gone to some unknown place. It was a long time before the sister heard the footsteps of a person who was approaching—the sounds, dih, dih, dih, dih. Again Hodadeñon struck the door, making it fly open, at which the boy leaped into the lodge, exclaiming: “Elder sister, let us go back right away. I have killed a very large game animal, but I do not know what animal it is. It may be that its name is Great Eyes; it may be that its name is It Has Two Long Ears; it may be that its name is White Tail. Now it is that you must take the burden cradle; otherwise you can not bear its body, for it is so great in size.” Answering, she said: “So be it. I will take the burden frame.”

Then the two started, and having arrived at the place, the boy suddenly stopped, saying: “Just here is the place where I was when I was surprised to see this animal running along there. Only my arrow I held out and said to the animal, ‘Tci, tci, tci, tci. Stop, first,’ and it stopped. Thereupon I asked it: ‘What is thy name? Perhaps Thy-Two-Eyes-are-Large is thy name; perhaps Thy-Two-Ears-are-Long is thy name; perhaps Thy-Tail-is-White is thy name?’ Then I shot, hitting the animal in the very center of its body. It ran along farther, and I pursued it. At a long distance from here I suddenly found its body lying there, with the arrow protruding very little, so deep had it penetrated into the middle of the creature’s body.” The two went on to the place where the game animal lay, and on reaching it, the boy said: “Here it lies.” His sister was surprised to see the body of a deer lying there, and she exclaimed: “My younger brother, I am thankful that now you have killed a large game animal. I have been in the habit of pitying you, hoping that perchance by the risks you have taken you might grow up to be a good hunter. Now I think you are immune to the orenda (magic power) of the neogen, for you have killed an animal bearing this name.” In a short time the boy exclaimed: “Oh, elder sister! does it taste good?” She answered: “Yes; indeed, it tastes good, and I shall now skin it.” When she completed this task she quartered the deer, after having cut off the legs, which she placed aside in a pile by themselves. Then she proceeded to arrange a package of the meat on the burden cradle, securely binding it with cords of bark. Having finished her own load, she next proceeded to make a load for the boy of the four legs of the deer. Deftly fashioning a pack strap of bark, she fastened the load on his back, saying: “Come now, you take the lead.” At this he started ahead, and kept on while she gathered up her utensils and made ready to follow. Her load being very heavy, she could hardly manage it. In order to get it on her back she had to place it first on a log, from which she was able to raise it to her back. Then, with the sister following the lead of her younger brother, both went along with their burdens. A long distance was covered when she saw him sitting on a log with his burden resting on the log, too. He said: “I am resting because the load is so heavy. Come, do you also rest yourself here.” So, setting her load also on a log, she, too, rested. Again the boy asked: “My elder sister, what is the name of the thing that I killed?” She answered: “Neogen is its name.” He asked: “Does it taste good?” “Hoh, it tastes good,” she replied, “if it is cooked in the right way. Come now, let us go on homeward.” Of course she helped him get his burden on his back. When she readjusted her own load, she followed her brother. On reaching home, she found that he forsooth had arrived there too. As she entered their lodge her forehead strap broke, letting her burden fall, with the sound, pumh! It was very heavy.

Unwrapping and untying the packages of meat, the sister hung the various pieces around the interior of the lodge; the meat nearly filled the small room. Next she stretched the skin. For this purpose she made a large hooplike frame, telling the boy to watch her carefully while she did so. Then she attached the skin around the edges to this frame by means of bark cords. “In this way do people generally do this thing, which is called ‘stretching the hide,’ ” said the sister, “and you must ordinarily do it in the same manner, for I believe that you will live a very long time.” “So be it,” said the boy, “I will follow your instructions. Come now, do you prepare the food. I will try it to learn how good it is.” The sister answered: “So be it. I will make a dish of meat cut into small pieces boiled down. I will prepare it.” So she set up the pot [over the fire]; and around the place the boy hung, continually saying: “Perhaps this will taste exceedingly good to us. It tastes good indeed, I suppose.” “Oh! it tastes good,” she replied. So things went on until the food was cooked, when the sister removed the pot from the fire. Then she put the meat into a bark bowl, and the soup also. The deer’s liver had become by this time of the consistency of bread, so the brother and elder sister began to eat. While at their meal the lad exclaimed three times: “Ho, my elder sister, what I killed tastes exceedingly good.”

When the two were through eating the boy said: “My elder sister, I shall now take a rest because I am tired out. Just now we have an abundance of meat.” Then he rested. Indoors he walked around, and indoors, too, he seated himself at times, and for a long time he went about hunting fleas. The sister went to fetch wood for fuel, taking the burden frame with her, so the boy was left by himself.

Suddenly he was startled by the sound of some one singing in the loft above: “My younger brother, tobacco. Once more I want to enjoy a smoke, my younger brother.” Climbing up into the loft, the boy was surprised to find a male person lying there, having a very large head and an enormous suit of hair. Hodadeñon said: “Gwe, what ails you?” The man replied: “My younger brother, I desire to smoke. Yonder lies a pouch made of skunk skin; in it there is a very small quantity of tobacco and there is also a pipe.” Having found the pouch as said, Hodadeñon took out of it a very small piece of tobacco; also a pipe. Next he proceeded to cut up all the tobacco, and kept saying, “I shall use it all, as it is my custom to do, for it is abundant seemingly.” Having completed his preparations, he took from the pouch the fire flint and the punk, and struck off sparks that set fire to the tobacco. Then, placing the pipe in the man’s mouth, he said: “Now you shall smoke.” Replying, “I thank you, my younger brother,” the man drew in the smoke, and smoke settled all over his head. Thereupon mice in large numbers came out of his hair because of the tobacco smoke that settled into it. Hodadeñon then ran away because he was choking with the smoke.

Just then his elder sister returned and said in a loud voice: “What are you doing? What are you doing?” Hodadeñon replied evasively: “My elder sister, what is the reason that you have not told me that a man lay in the loft who is your elder brother? You have constantly said that we two were alone, and that that was the reason I am called Hodadeñon.” The elder sister replied: “The reason why I have not told you before is because you are inattentive.” The younger brother answered: “I cut up the tobacco because my elder brother kept saying that he desired to smoke, and I used all of it, for there was only a very small piece left, and it would seem there is an abundance of tobacco growing. As soon as I placed the pipe in his mouth he drew in the smoke and blew it out, whereupon his hair became filled with the smoke and many mice came forth from it. The room was filled with smoke. I was choking from the effects of it when I descended from the room. That is what you heard and led you to say that I was doing mischief.”

The sister retorted: “I do say that you are careless and inattentive. You used up all the tobacco. At all times it was my habit to scrape only a very small quantity, which I put into his pipe, and he would smoke. The times that he smokes are a year apart. But now you have used all the tobacco. This is the reason that I say you are careless and inattentive. Moreover, you have killed him, for I think there is no more left of that on which he must live.” Hodadeñon answered: “How far away is the place where that thing abounds?” She replied: “It is distant.” He persisted: “Come, tell me in what direction it grows.” She answered, “It is of no use for me to tell you. You could never have the power to accomplish the task of getting some.” “Guʼúʻ!” he exclaimed; “you seem to have a great contempt for my ability. Come, tell me, please.” Thus they spent the entire day disputing about the matter. The sister kept on saying: “It is of no use for me to tell you.”

Finally the lad stopped talking. It was a long time before the elder sister spoke again, saying: “Now my mind is troubled. I shall now tell you and make you understand, too. Look at this lodge of ours, which is a long lodge. It was full of our kin and relations, who are no more. Your brothers were many. They have all been lost in the region where the tobacco abounds. That place is full of what are called female sorceresses. So it is impossible for you to accomplish the task of getting the tobacco. The lad replied: “So be it. I shall make the attempt. I shall succeed in this matter, as is known [that I can]. Just look at what I can do; no matter how dark it may be I can slaughter the fleas, a task which no one else has been able to do.” The sister responded: “Do the best you can.” To this the lad said: “Tomorrow you must prepare provisions for me; I shall start then.” At once she began preparing food for the journey. The lad added: “You must make me a pack—one that is called a wrapped bundle.” So she made such a bundle and placed meat and bread in it. In the morning the two arose, whereupon the lad said: “I shall start. You and I are now to eat together for the last time.” When they had finished their meal the sister exclaimed: “My younger brother, do your best.”

Taking up his pack, the boy said: “My elder sister, I am starting—you say that the path leads directly south?” She replied: “That is what I said.” Thereupon he went out of the lodge. For a long time she heard his voice around the lodge, as he went about murmuring. After that she heard it no more. Then she said: “Now, I suppose he has started. Oh! he is to be pitied, for he will become wretched. It is doubtful whether we shall ever see each other again.” The lad followed the path, and in the evening he suddenly came to a spot where it was plain that fires had been kindled and people had spent the night. The remains were of many times. Having decided to spend the night there, he kindled a fire, by means of which he warmed the bread and the meat which he took out of his pack. When he had finished his meal, he was startled to see near by forked or crotched rods set in the ground, on some of which were fixed pieces of bread, and on others pieces of meat. These had been there for widely varying periods. At this sight he exclaimed: “Oh, how wretched did they become! Those persons who have left these remains are indeed all dead, and they were brothers to me. So I, too, shall do the same thing.” Then he set up in the ground a rod with a crotch, on which he fastened a piece of bread among the other fragments of all ages—some of them quite old. Then he lay down and went to sleep, with his body supported against his pack. In the morning, finding everything as it should be, the lad said aloud: “I am thankful that I am still alive. My elder sister said indeed that it was doubtful that she and I would see each other again, because the path I must follow passes through all manner of difficulties.”

Having said this, he set out along the path. When he had gone a long way he was startled to hear at some distance the sound, “doʻʹ, doʻʹ, doʻʹ, doʻʹ,” which one would suppose was made by a woodpecker loudly pecking on a great hollow tree. Going to the tree whence the noise came, he saw fluttering from place to place and pecking holes in the trunk a cuckoo of enormous size. A sight that caught his eye and conveyed a more serious warning was the great number of arrows stuck in the tree near the spot where the cuckoo was fluttering about. He concluded that these arrows had belonged probably to those who had been his brothers, and that therefore this bird was possessed of great orenda (magic power), which it exerted with evil purpose only. Thereupon the lad exclaimed: “It shall see its doom, for now I will kill it.” Aiming at the cuckoo, his arrow struck in the very center of its body, whereupon it began to beat with its wings against the tree to which it was pinned.

Thus leaving the bird, the boy went on until evening, when he again came to a spot where there were still traces of the former fireplace. There he stopped for the night. After taking his pack from the forehead strap and laying it aside, he kindled a fire, by which he warmed up the meat and the bread he had brought. When he finished his meal he set up a forked or pronged rod to which he fastened a small portion of bread. The spot was literally covered with rods carrying bread of all ages, which had been set up by persons at widely varying times. Having completed his offering, the boy retired for the night, resting on his pack. Soon he began to be troubled with dreams, so that he rolled and tossed from side to side and could not sleep.

Suddenly he was startled by the barking of a small dog, which had a very shrill bark, such as he had never before heard. The sound drew nearer. The night was very dark. Quickly arising and taking with him all his things he ran to a near-by stream and ran up the trunk of a tree that slanted far out over the water. In a short time he became suddenly aware from its barking that the dog was near and that it was rapidly coming nearer still. When the animal was very close the boy heard the sound of rattles [of deer knuckles] and a woman’s voice approaching, too, saying to the dog: “Do your best, my slave. Just leave me the head of Hodadeñon.” Now he was startled by the barking of the cur directly under the tree in which he was seated. Carefully fitting his arrow, he released it, whereupon the arrow flew with the sound “thum!” and he heard the cry of the cur, “kwĕñʻʹ, kwĕñʻʹ, kwĕñʻʹ,” so he knew that he had struck it. There the woman turned back, saying: “Aha! It is true, I think, as all people are saying, that Hodadeñon is without a peer in sorcery.”

In the morning the lad descended from his perch on the slanting tree and went to the place where lay the cur, stark dead. The arrow had struck the body fairly in the middle, where it still remained. He drew his arrow out of the dog’s body, when he suddenly found that there was a very small knuckle rattle tied to its neck. Having removed this rattle bell, he cast the body of the dog, which was indeed very small, into the water. In doing this he remarked, “Now will begin the period in which my mind is to be disturbed by serious difficulties, it would seem. I think those women whose minds are evil do not live far from here.” So saying, he started on his journey.

After going a long distance they found the remains of a fire; there they stopped for the night. As soon as they had warmed up bread and meat they ate their evening meal. When they had finished eating the stranger said: “It is a fact that these portions of bread affixed to the top of the rods are the cause or occasion for which all our kinsmen died. Moreover, it is for us to make this a feast of Reunion of the Living, which we must use as the means of thanksgiving and prayer. We must make an offering of tobacco by casting tobacco on the fire. It is called the ceremony of making an offering of tobacco. I have tobacco with which to do this.” Hodadeñon answered: “So be it. How shall we do it?” The stranger: “All provisions that you have brought with you we must lay in a circle around the fire, and a portion we must place aside in the dark (i.e., conceal it).” Saying, “So be it,” Hodadeñon began to take the things out of his pouch and to lay them in a circle around the fire. He also hid far away in the dark some meat and bread.

Standing beside the fire and holding the tobacco from the pouch in his hand, he said: “Come now, listen to me, you, all kinds of animals and you, too, who have formed and made my life.” With these words he cast the tobacco into the fire, exclaiming: “Now do you listen; now the smoke of tobacco arises. Moreover, he and I ask you to give us assistance, all of you who inhabit the forests and who are immune to enchantment, and you who have made my life and that of my friend, who, too, has no relations left, and myself who have no relations left, for which reason I am called Hodadeñon. We shall fetch all these from the place where they have perished. These are the things for which I pray. So thus we here fulfill our obligation by placing this tobacco in this place, and we have laid away food in the darkness.” Having completed this invocation, Hodadeñon said to his companion: “Come, now, let us go.”

At midnight the two started and had gone very far when daylight came. As they traveled they suddenly heard ahead of them the sounds “duʻʹ, duʻʹ, duʻʹ, duʻʹ.” Thereupon Hodadeñon said to his friend: “Show your courage now, my friend. We have arrived, it seems, in the place where those who have evil minds dwell. Closer let us go.” At last they reached the place in which the lodge stood, and they halted some distance from it.

All at once they heard a man singing and beating a drum. As he sang, he said: “Here I am making tobacco; here I am making tobacco; here I am making tobacco; he who has tobacco prepares tobacco.” Hodadeñon said to his companion, “Now is the time,” and his friend replied: “So let it be.” Then they two entered the lodge, where they came face to face with an old man, who held a mallet in his hand with which he was pounding the tobacco all over. He was so old that his eyebrows hung down far over his eyes. Hodadeñon said to him, “Oh, my uncle!” but he did not notice him and kept on pounding the tobacco. At this, Hodadeñon, drawing his war club, struck him a blow on the forehead, causing the blood to gush forth. After a long while the old man said, “Oh! I am sweating,” at the same time wiping the blood off his forehead. Next, upraising his eyebrows and looking at them, he said: “Oh! my two nephews, you have now arrived. Take courage, my two nephews, because I myself am a slave working in tobacco.” Hodadeñon answered: “I have come after tobacco and nothing else, because my elder brother, who is far from here, desires to smoke.” The old man answered: “He is, I suppose, my own brother. So be it. Take some back with you.”

So Hodadeñon, taking up a twist of tobacco, threw it, saying: “Go hence to the opening of the chimney of the lodge where my sister abides and drop in the ashes [at her feet].” The sister, greatly surprised to see the ashes of the fire fly up, exclaimed, “I am thankful that my brother Hodadeñon, it would seem, is still alive,” and she picked up the tobacco.

Next the young men asked the man with the long eyebrows where stood the lodge of the very wicked women. He answered the spokesman: “Have courage. There stands the lodge yonder, on the farther side of the lake. It is doubtful whether you two can cross the lake. As we know, the ice on it is very slippery. No matter who it is that goes there, as soon as he steps upon the ice a man speaks out, saying: ‘Let it rain bones; let it be nothing but bones.’ And at once he becomes a pile of bones. Such will happen to you if it be that you two are sorcerers.” Hodadeñon said in reply: “Come, my friend, let us start.” Then they set out at once. Arriving at the lake, they found that the ice that covered it was very smooth and that the lodge stood on the farther shore. There a number of people were walking about. One would think that they were expecting something to happen, for they were looking around. Hodadeñon said to his companion: “Come, let us start.” Unstringing their bows, they started on their journey over the ice, in the course of which they used their bows as walking sticks, striking with them upon the ice. Everything went on all right as they made their way over the frozen surface. All at once the people on the shore saw them coming, whereupon they came at once on the ice to meet the bold visitors. At once the people shouted, “It is raining bones,” and they came on, while the two kept on their way. At last one of the people of the shore exclaimed: “Aha! Now I believe it certain that Hodadeñon, the great wizard, has arrived, and they have indeed crossed the lake.” Then all returned to their lodge on the shore. Having crossed the lake, the two went at once to the lodge on the shore. With bravado they entered it, finding all the occupants at home. One there was who was an old woman.

One of the inmates said to the strangers: “It is a custom with us that when anyone visits us we amuse ourselves, and generally for this purpose we bet our heads.” Hodadeñon asked: “How is it customary for you to do this?” The reply was: “We run a race here on the ice. We usually make a circuit of the lake and we use the snowshoe.” Hodadeñon answered: “So be it, then; let us bet then.” He then made very fine snowshoes, which were very small. When he had completed his task, he announced: “I am now all ready.” Thereupon all went to the ice, and one said: “Now we must go around the border of the lake on the ice, and whoever comes in ahead to this scratch line shall win.” Then the runners went to the scratch line, where they stood awaiting the order to go. Hodadeñon said: “I shall run alone on my side.” But the lake-dwellers pitted four men against him.

The order to go (Oʹnĕⁿʻʹ) was given—at which the contestants started to run around the lake. When they had run half the way around it Hodadeñon was in the rear of the others. Removing his snowshoes and setting them side by side, he got upon them, saying to them: “Take courage, pass him; yes, pass them, and go directly to the scratch line. The other runners were suddenly made aware of the fact by the furious sounds they heard that Hodadeñon was overtaking them very fast. In a short time he passed them, and, easily keeping ahead of them, he soon arrived at the place whence they had started. When his opponents arrived at the scratch line he was standing there awaiting them. Addressing them, he said: “I have now won from you; I have outrun you. Come on, my friend, let us behead them now, one and all.” So the two destroyed all the wicked people.

Next they went aside to a long pile of bones and proceeded to lay them in order, side by side, working at this task for a long time. When they had finished, they began to push against a great elm tree, while Hodadeñon shouted: “The great elm is falling on them who are sleeping here.” Bravely they arose, all mingled together, men and women, some with one arm or one leg longer than the other. Then Hodadeñon said: “Take courage, my friend, it seems you must aid me in restoring the defective limbs of the people here.” At once he went to work amending the arms and legs of the people who had received the wrong limbs in their resurrection. This work having been finished, Hodadeñon said: “Let everyone go home to the place whence he came,” but all replied: “We do not know whence we came to this place.” Hodadeñon answered: “So let it be; then you must accompany us home. We will go back to that place where my brother and sister abide, because that lodge in which they dwell is very long, so you can live there. Come, now, let us start.”

So all departed from that place, with Hodadeñon in the lead. They were many nights on the way before they reached home; they were many in number when they reached their destination. Once there, Hodadeñon said: “Oh! my elder sister, we have now returned home, and you must assign them places in the lodge, for I do not know all.” Thereupon she told him to make the assignments himself, so when the large party entered he walked back and forth in the lodge, dividing it among them. But before making the assignments he said: “Now, it is not right that one man should live by himself and one woman by herself; hence it shall be that a man and a woman shall dwell together, and they shall sleep together, and they shall whisper together; they shall love each other, and thus they shall be happy.”

Thus they dwell today according to the labors of Hodadeñon.

This is the length of the legend.

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Contents

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118. The Legend of Gādjisʹdodoʻ and Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs

It is said that in ancient times there lived together in a very long lodge two male persons. They were related one to the other as uncle (mother’s brother) and nephew. As such, according to the custom of the times, they occupied opposite sides of the fire in the long lodge.

For something to eat, as he grew, the nephew, who was a very little boy, shot birds and other small game.

It came to pass one day that Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs said: “Oh, my nephew! I am thankful that now you are growing into manhood. It is a long time since I began to care for you. It will happen that a little later on you will kill larger animals.”

In time this did happen, for one day he killed a partridge, which he carried home. On entering the lodge his uncle exclaimed: “Wuʻ, my nephew! I am very thankful you are returning home, having killed a large game animal. What is the name of the animal you have killed? What kind of animal is it? Do you know?” In reply the youth said: “I do not know.” The old man, going toward his nephew, grasped the partridge so quickly that he raised the young boy off the ground, saying: “Hand me at once the body of the thing which you are bringing back killed, for you, of course, do not know what kind of thing it is.” Then the old man, going aside and taking a seat, began to pluck and dress the partridge, saying at the same time: “This thing requires, of course, nothing but dumplings.” Setting a kettle over the fire, he made dumplings which he put into the kettle with the partridge. The old man kept on saying, as he watched the bird cooking: “Perhaps this will taste exceedingly good to us two.” The grease floated on the top of the water, for the bird was very fat. Then the old man, removing the kettle from the fire, set it aside. He put into a bark bowl or dish a share for his nephew, saying: “Oh, my nephew! this is what you may eat,” but he held it just over the fire. When the young boy arose to receive his portion and reached out for the dish, his uncle, grasping his hand along with the dish, pulled the nephew over the fire, wherein he fell on his elbows. At once he arose covered with hot coals, and took a seat aside on his own side of the fire. Dissimulating his evil purpose, the old man said: “I am in too much of a hurry, for I thought that I held it aside from the fireplace.” The nephew was greatly astonished at what his uncle had done to him, for he never had illtreated him before; and the lad began to weep, saying to himself: “I wonder why he has done this thing to me.”

The next morning the old man said: “Oh, my nephew! arise. Game animals usually go about the clear places very early in the morning. So arise and go out to hunt.”

After arising and making needed preparations, the nephew started out to hunt in the forest. He kept on thinking: “My uncle has indeed abused me very much.” As the boy went from place to place he was much surprised to hear a man at a distance say, Tcĭt! and he directed his steps toward the spot whence he believed the sound came. Soon he was surprised to see the skull of an old man protruding out of the ground. As the boy approached the skull said to him: “Oh, my nephew! you are much to be pitied now, for affairs have taken a turn which will cause you misfortune. Exert yourself with all your (magic) power, for he will indeed outmatch your orenda (magic power) if it so be that you do not learn to remember the things which you have killed.” Thus spoke the skull of the old man.

But he continued: “You shall do this in your defense. I will assist you. I am the brother of your uncle, who has outmatched to the utmost degree my orenda. I will tell you, moreover, that that lodge, so long, was at one time full of our relations and kindred, who are now no more. This is the reason it is so long and empty. Now go yonder, not far from here, to an old rotten log, lying prone, and in which you will find a raccoon, as it is called. You must kill it, and you must pass by this place on your way home and I will give you further instructions.” Going to the place indicated by the skull of the old man, the boy killed the raccoon, returning at once to the place where the skull protruded from the ground. Thereupon the skull said to him: “You must not forget the name raccoon, for this is the name of this animal which you have killed. On your way home you must keep on saying, ‘Raccoon, raccoon, raccoon.’ So return home now. And he will again ask, probably, as is his custom, ‘What is it that you are bringing home killed?’ So do not get into the habit of forgetting. Exert yourself as much as possible.”

Thereupon the young boy started for his home in the long lodge, saying as he trudged along, “Raccoon, raccoon, raccoon.” At first he whispered it, but when nearing the lodge he uttered it loudly. Just as he pushed aside the door flap and stepped inside the lodge he stubbed his foot, and his burden, the raccoon, fell inside and he beside it. At that moment his uncle, the old man, said: “Oh, my nephew! now you are bringing back, killed, a large game animal; what is its name and what kind of animal is it?” Now, after his mishap at the doorway, the boy had entirely forgotten the name of the animal, so he reluctantly answered: “I do not know the name of it.” At this his uncle demanded the game, saying: “Hand the body to me, then, for you do not know what kind of thing you are bringing home killed.” The nephew did as he was told, whereupon his uncle, taking a seat aside, began to skin the animal, at the same time saying: “The name of this animal is raccoon.” The nephew took a seat on the opposite side of the fire.

Then the old man set a kettle over the fire, with the remark: “The only way to prepare this game is to cook it with corn-meal mush, which should be eaten with it. I shall skim off the grease and pour it over the mush.” The youth did nothing but watch his uncle. When the meal was cooked the uncle kept saying: “This will indeed taste very good to us two.” Then he took out a share for his nephew, putting into a bark dish some of the mush and a portion of the meat. Going to the edge of the fireplace, he said, “Oh, my nephew! here is a portion for you to eat,” again holding it over the fire. The youth arose quickly to receive it and took the bark bowl in his hands. Just as before, the old man grasped his hands and drew him into the fire, at the same time saying: “What is the use of my holding it somewhere else when I myself am hungry.” Of course the youth fell into the fire on his elbows, and on jumping out he was all covered with hot coals and ashes. Going aside, he took a seat there. Then Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs began to eat. When he had finished, he remarked to himself, “I think I will save some of this for another time”; so he put some of the food in a high place. The youth, his nephew, began to weep, saying: “Perhaps he will kill me; I think it possible.”

The next morning the old man again spoke to his nephew, saying: “Oh, my nephew! do you arise. It is the custom for game animals to be found in the open places very early in the morning.” Quickly arising from his bed, the youth at once made the necessary preparations, and after finishing these, he started out to hunt. Once more he directed his course toward the place where the skull of his uncle protruded from the ground. On arriving there, his uncle addressed him: “Well, my nephew, what came to pass?” The youth answered: “I kept repeating the name ‘raccoon’ as I went along, and when I had reached a point quite near the lodge I just whispered the name to myself, saying ‘Raccoon, raccoon, raccoon.’ But at the very doorway I caught my foot in an obstruction, and the body of the animal fell into the lodge and I with it. At that moment my uncle asked me, ‘What is the name of the game you are bringing home killed?’ Of course, I did not remember anything whatever about the name of the animal, so I answered him, ‘I do not know.’ To this the old man replied, ‘Quickly hand me the body of the animal, for you do not know its name; and it is well known that raccoon is its name.’ ” Then the man whose skull protruded from the ground said: “Oh! how unfortunate it was that stumbling against an obstruction and falling down caused you to forget the name of the animal. Exert yourself to the utmost. Be brave. Your only safety consists in remembering the names of the animals that you may kill. You must remember at all times these names. Now, then, go to that place there in the distance where turkeys abound. One of them you must kill; and when you have killed it, you must pass by this place on your way home.” As directed, the youth went to the place designated by his uncle, and there he killed a turkey. Then he returned to the spot where his uncle’s skull protruded from the ground. To encourage him his uncle said: “Be brave and exert yourself to the utmost. This time you must remember the name of this game bird. It is called a turkey. As you are going along homeward, you must keep saying, ‘Turkey, turkey, turkey’; and as soon as you arrive near the lodge you must set your feet down carefully as you walk, and must go along whispering the name to yourself, ‘Turkey, turkey, turkey.’ ”

So the youth started for home, and as he went along he kept saying, “Turkey, turkey, turkey.” On arriving near the lodge, he began to whisper the name, “Turkey, turkey, turkey,” and he set each foot down carefully and securely. In this way he reentered his home without mishap. And the old man, his uncle, was surprised and said: “Oh, my nephew! you are bringing back a large game animal, killed. I am thankful for it. What is the name of it?” The youth replied: “Oh! the name of it is turkey—just turkey.” The old man, his uncle, merely exclaimed, Wuʻʹ, and, going aside, took a seat there. In the meantime the youth dragged the body of the turkey aside to pluck and dress it. While engaged at his task he remarked: “The only way to cook this is to boil it down to a pot roast.” Next he proceeded to pluck and then to quarter the bird. When he had finished his task, he started the meat to cooking in a kettle over the fire. As he saw it begin to cook he kept saying: “It will certainly taste good to uncle and me.” The uncle on his part said: “I have been thinking generally that he [my nephew] would become perhaps a fine hunter; for it has been a very difficult task for me to raise you, and I have worked hard to do it.”

When the turkey was cooked the youth said: “I will not act in the manner my uncle acts on such occasions.” Thereupon he set aside a portion of the boiled turkey in a bark bowl, which he offered to his uncle by holding it directly over the fire, which was burning briskly, saying: “This is what you will eat.” The uncle, exclaiming, “Oh! I am thankful for it,” arose to receive it. As he grasped the bark bowl, the youth, seizing his hands along with the bowl, drew the old man over so that he fell into the fire. At this the youth said, excusing himself: “I am so hungry, indeed, that perhaps I was holding the bowl in an unintended place.” The old man answered, “Now my nephew, you have abused me. It has been my habit to think that you would not treat me in this manner, for I have raised you from childhood to youth.” The nephew was eating, but he answered his uncle: “I just thought that that was perhaps the custom on such occasions, for you were in the habit of acting in this manner.” So saying, he kept on eating. Finally he said, “I believe I will save myself a portion for a later time;” and he laid aside some of the boiled turkey.

The next morning the old man did not say, as was his custom, to his nephew: “Come now, arise, my nephew.” On the other hand, the young nephew said to himself: “So be it. I will now arise, I think. My uncle is accustomed to say that the game animals go about in the open country very early in the morning.” So the young man arose then, and proceeded to make his usual preparations before going out to hunt. After eating his morning meal he started from the lodge. The uncle spoke not a word. It would appear, one would think, that he was angry. The youth went directly to the place where his other uncle’s skull protruded from the ground.

Having arrived at the spot, the skull addressed him, saying: “Well, my nephew, what happened?” The youth answered: “I remembered the name all the way home, and when my uncle asked me, ‘What are you bringing home, killed?’ I answered him, ‘Only a turkey.’ My uncle replied, merely, Wuʻʹ. Then I prepared the bird and cooked it. As soon as it was cooked I kept saying: ‘I shall not act in the manner in which my uncle acts.’ Then I put a portion for him on a bark dish and held the dish directly over the fire, saying: ‘Oh, my uncle! eat this portion.’ He replied, ‘Hoʹ, I am very thankful,’ and grasped the dish, whereupon, gripping his hands, I pulled him down into the fire. I may have held it in the wrong place because I was very hungry, but the real reason I did so was because I was angry with him on account of the many times he scorched and burned me. My uncle said: ‘I believe that you have now begun to abuse me.’ I replied that it seemed to be the custom when one was giving food to another. He walked to and fro, and one would think that my uncle was angry.”

The skull of the uncle at once replied: “It was just right for him. Now, indeed, this is about to come to pass. It is impossible that in the future he will ask you for the name of the things which you may bring home killed. Oh, my nephew! It is known that your uncle is making preparations. He is gathering logs and burning them on the fire, and when night comes he will have a great fire, as is well known. So, be brave, careful, and watchful. You must not go to sleep. An evil dream will cause him to arise suddenly, as is well known. Then you must quickly take down his war club and strike a blow with it on your uncle’s head, at the same time saying: ‘What is causing you to see marvels?’ And if he does not answer at once, ‘It has ceased,’ you must again strike a blow on his head with the war club. Then it will come to pass that he will say, as is well known, ‘The thing that the dream spirit has commanded me is baleful.’ Whereupon you must ask him, ‘What did the dream spirit command you to do?’ In answer he will tell you what he has been commanded to require you to do. Then you must return to this place, as I do not know what he will say.”

Now, the youth returned to the lodge which he called his home. Night came on them. The fire was a brisk one. It so happened that the old man, the uncle, said: “The reason I have put these large logs on the fire is because it seems likely that we two will have a very cold time tonight.” The two lay down as usual, but the youth kept awake as he had been warned to do by his uncle’s skull. There was a hole worn through his skin covering through which he kept a strict watch on his uncle.

About midnight, perhaps, suddenly the old man began to moan and groan, muttering strange words very loudly, the sounds increasing in intensity. Interspersed with these mutterings were the sounds ʼĕñʻ, ʼĕñʻ, ʼĕñʻ. Suddenly arising from his couch, he moved about on his knees, meanwhile uttering the same sounds and words as the youth had first heard. Then, with one great cry of ʼĕñʻ! he cast himself on the fire and pushed with his feet and hands the huge firebrands that had accumulated over toward the place where lay his nephew. Seeing this, the nephew, quickly uncovering himself, leaped up just in time, for the great pieces of burning logs fell blazing where he had just lain. Running over to the opposite side of the fire, he took down from its resting place the war club of his uncle. His uncle then being close to him, groping around on his knees and uttering dark words, the youth struck him a blow on the head, saying at the same time, “What is causing you to see marvels?” and again raised the war club to deliver another blow. But the dream of the old man ceased at that time, and the uncle took a seat at one side of the fire, and the youth took a seat on the opposite side. Thereupon the uncle said to his nephew: “Compliance with what the dream commanded me is of the utmost difficulty.” The youth answered: “Well, what did the dream command you to do?” The uncle made reply: “It commanded me, saying, ‘You two shall hazard your lives’; it said to me that we two must ‘take the roof off the lodge.’ ” The youth replied: “So let it come to pass. What it has commanded amounts to nothing.”

Then the two men returned to bed for the remainder of the night. Very early the next morning the youth went to the spot where the skull of his uncle protruded from the ground. When he reached the place, the uncle addressed him: “Well, what happened during the night?” The young nephew answered: “Well, he says that he and I shall hazard our lives by trading objects this very night which is approaching.” To this statement the uncle replied: “I have been saying all along that he is determined to outmatch your magic power (orenda), as is well known. It is his manner of doing things. He will request something which you do not possess, and if it so be that you can not obtain it at once, something direful will happen to you—you die, paying the penalty by your death. Now I know that he will request the entrails of a bear from you, for the very reason that you have them not. Then you must proceed in this manner: You must go out and find a wild grapevine. When you have found it you must unwind the vine and cut off a sufficient portion. This you must rub between your hands and blow on, and instantly the vine will become the entrails of a bear. You must say, ‘I want the fat entrails of a bear.’ Make haste in what you are about to do, for I know that he has completed all his preparation at the lodge.” So the youth went forth to hunt for a wild grapevine, and found one which was wound around a support. Cutting off at once what he required, he began to straighten out the length. Next he fastened the coils together by means of bark cords, and by rubbing it with his hands and blowing on it he soon transformed the vine into the fat entrails of a bear.

Returning to the lodge, the youth addressed his old uncle thus, “Oh, my uncle! I return fully prepared,” to which the uncle answered: “So be it; you just go to the end of the lodge.” The nephew replied: “So be it.” Thereupon the uncle added: “It is not certain whether I shall go now or later. But you must be in an expectant mood there.” Then the youth started, passing along on the inside of the lodge, which was very long. When he reached the end of the lodge he was surprised to see there the signs of a fire, one which had burned perhaps a long time in the past. He took a seat there, for he was ready for the work ahead of him. It was not very long afterward when at last the old man began to sing in his own place: “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering; yuʹʻhĕñ, thou Gādjisʹdodoʻ, thou who art a nephew, yuʹʻhĕñ.” This he repeated in a loud voice, and the song was heard by all the wizards and sorcerers dwelling along the borders of the land, all of whom said one to another: “Now again his intended victim is his own nephew.”

Making his way up to the place where his nephew was sitting, the old man said: “Now, I am come to barter.” He carried in his hand a piece of bark on which lay several pieces of meat. The youth answered: “What shall I give you?” The old man, in accordance with the custom on such occasions, replied: “I can not tell what it shall be. Perhaps you have the flesh of the raccoon?” The youth rejoined: “I will give it to you.” The uncle answered: “No; not that.” The youth then said: “Turkey meat; that I will give you.” The uncle replied: “No; not that.” Then the old man again began singing, “Yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, thou Gādjisʹdodoʻ, thou who art a nephew; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” At this moment flames burst out all around the place where Gādjisʹdodoʻ was sitting. In defense, the youth said: “Djiʹ, djiʹ, djiʹ. Oh, my uncle! verily, you mean the entrails of a bear, the very fat entrails of a bear, which I have.” As soon as he had ceased speaking, the flames went down. Drawing forth the entrails of the bear (which he had prepared), the youth gave them to his uncle. They exchanged the pieces of meat for the bear’s entrails. The old man said: “I am thankful for these.” The youth then thought to himself: “I will go back to my place as soon as I think he has returned to his own seat on his side of the fire.” As he started, the old man again began to sing: “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering; thou Gādjisʹdodoʻ, thou who art a nephew; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” Believing that his uncle had resumed his seat, the nephew returned to his couch, where he found the old man sitting, smoking. The old man said merely: “We, oh, my nephew! have now finished this task.”

The next morning the youth again went to the place where the skull of his other uncle was protruding from the ground. When he arrived there his uncle asked him what had taken place last night. In answer, the youth related in great detail just what had come to pass between the old man and himself. He told him all very carefully. Thereupon this uncle said: “Now, it is a fact that he is collecting more logs and putting them on the fire and near it, for he will again make a large fire this very night. And it is, too, a fact that when he has his dream tonight, he will say in his own mind that he desires the liver of a bear. This you do not possess. Be brave and do your very best. This time you must hunt for fungi that grow on old rotten logs. These you must procure—two in number—and you must treat them in the same manner as you did the grapevine, and at once they will become bear’s livers. So, now, go out hunting for these things.” The youth at once started on his quest for fungi in the forest. He was not very long in finding the two that he required for his purpose. At once he rubbed them with his hands, saying at the same time: “Let these soon become bear’s livers.” Immediately the transformation took place as he wished.

Then he started for the lodge, where dwelt his uncle. Arriving there, he said: “Oh, my uncle! I have now returned.” He saw that the fire was a great one. Night came on at last, and the two lay down to sleep, but the youth did not fall asleep. It was perhaps midnight when suddenly the old man began to moan and groan with increasing force and loudness; all at once he arose and crawled around there on his knees. Finally, with a loud cry, ‘ĕñʻ, he threw himself on the fire. At once large pieces of wood, all ablaze, fell in every direction, some in the direction of the youth’s bed. Quickly arising and crossing over to the opposite side of the fire, he took down the war club of his uncle, and seeing the head of the latter close to him, moving from place to place, he struck it a blow with the club, at the same time saying: “Oh, my uncle! what is causing you to see marvels?” Then quickly he raised the club for another blow. Suddenly, however, the dream ceased, and the old man exclaimed, to avoid another blow of the war club: “It has stopped now.” Having said this he drew aside and took a seat. The youth did likewise. Addressing his nephew, the old man said: “Oh, nephew! Compliance with the command which the dream gave me is very difficult indeed, yea, dangerous.” The youth asked: “What did it command you?” The uncle answered: “Why, it commanded me, saying you and he must barter by exchange, you and your nephew; and it commanded also that this must take place early in the morning, and that a calamitous thing would happen to you if it should come to pass that the barter by exchange failed to take place before midday.” The youth replied: “So be it; we will attend to this matter in the morning.” Then the two returned to their respective beds.

Very early the next morning the old man, having arisen, again addressed the youth: “Now you must go once more to the end of the lodge.” Having gone there, the nephew kindled a fire. All at once the old man in his place began to sing again, as before: “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering by exchange; thou Gādjisʹdodoʻ, thou who art my nephew, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” As he sang the youth saw that he came toward him. Having arrived at the end of the lodge occupied by his nephew, the old man said: “Oh, my nephew! I come to barter by exchange.” The latter at once replied: “So let it be; what, then, shall I give you?” The uncle’s answer was: “Oh! you have it certainly. You have what I desire.” At this, then, the youth began to offer his uncle the things which he ostensibly guessed the old man desired. When he had consumed sufficient time to mislead his antagonist, he finally exclaimed: “Oh, my uncle! I believe that you indeed want the liver of a bear—the fat liver of a bear.” Quite deceived as to the mental acuteness of his nephew, the uncle replied: “I am very thankful for this.” Then they two made the exchange, and the old man returned to his own end of the lodge, carrying on his back the package of liver. As he went along he sang his song: “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering by exchange, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ; thou Gādjisʹdodoʻ, who art my nephew, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” Thus the uncle returned to his seat. When the youth thought that the old man had reached his own part of the lodge, he returned to his own bed. When he had reached it the old man said to him: “Now, what the dream commanded me has been fulfilled. I am thankful, too.”

Then the youth, having made the necessary preparations, departed, going to the place where the skull of his other uncle protruded out of the ground. On his arrival there, the uncle said to him: “Well, what happened?” The nephew answered him: “Oh! we completed the exchange, and I passed through the test without mishap.” To this the uncle rejoined: “Now you must hasten to return to the lodge. It is your turn to have a dream of that kind. You, too, must kindle the fire by gathering great logs, so that you may have a great fire. As soon as midnight comes it is for you to do just as your uncle did, and as soon as he strikes you a blow with his war club, you must say: ‘It is now ceased. Difficult and sinister is what the dream commanded me to do.’ Then your uncle will ask: ‘What did it command you to do?’ In reply you must say that it commanded you to have your uncle seek for the wish [word] of your dream; and it said, too, that a direful thing should happen to your uncle should he have failed to divine your dream’s desire by midday. A small round squash, which is growing on a vine planted by your uncle beneath his bed, is what you must desire in your dream. He prizes this squash very much, believing that his life depends on it. You must say, ‘Yes’ only when he names this squash as the thing desired for you by your dream. So now quickly return to the lodge and get ahead of him in making the preparations for kindling a great fire tonight. You must make the fire, and you must gather large logs to maintain it in full blaze during the night, for you must have a fine fire.”

So the youth returned to the lodge, and when he arrived indoors he said to his uncle: “It is now my turn to make a good fire, and I will kindle it well, because I think we shall have a very cold night.” Then gathering together many large logs and pieces of wood, he proceeded to put them on the fire in order to have a fine blaze for the night, as he had been told to do. Nighttime having come, they lay down to sleep. No word of conversation passed between them. About midnight the youth began to moan and to groan, saying, ʼĕñʻ, ʼĕñʻ, ʼĕñʻ. In a short time he arose from his bed groaning then very loudly, and without further act, he cast himself on the fire, scattering in all directions with his feet and hands the blazing firebrands, some of which went in the direction of the bed of his uncle. The latter, having been awakened by the groaning, quickly arose to avoid the firebrands. Then saying, “What has happened to you?” took down his war club, and seeing the head of his nephew moving about close to him, struck it a blow with the club, which resounded with a băʼʻ, very loud. Immediately he raised the club to strike another blow, but at that moment the youth said: “Oh, uncle, it has now ceased.” After regaining his composure, he continued: “Now, what the dream commanded me to do is very difficult of fulfillment, although a severe and cruel penalty is the price of failure to perform its mandate.” Thereupon the old man asked: “What did it command you to do?” The nephew replied: “It ordered me to have my uncle seek for the desire of my dream, to divine its word in other terms; and if my uncle is not able to divine the word of the dream by midday, something cruel and sinister will befall his body.” The uncle’s answer was: “So be it. It has no great significance.” Then the two lay down again to sleep.

Very early in the morning the youth arose and, after making his usual preparations, said to his uncle: “The time has now come for us to begin.” The uncle replied: “So be it; I am ready.” While they were taking their places the old man remarked: “Verily, you must give me a clue to the ‘word’ of your dream.” But the nephew answered: “That is not at all the custom in such cases, and it is certain that the reason it is called ‘the seeking of one’s dream word’ is that no clue shall be given.” At this reply the old man exclaimed with mock surprise, “Wuʻʹ! this is indeed an astonishing thing”; but he failed to make his nephew agree to give him a small clue to the thing he had dreamed.

Thereupon the old man began to ask the questions necessary to ascertain the dream desire of his nephew. He asked: “It may be that you desire my pouch?” His nephew answered: “No; that is not what I desire.” The old man continued: “It may be that you desire, possibly, my raccoon-skin robe?” The answer came: “No; that is not what I desire.” The next question was: “It may be that you desire flesh of the bear?” In disgust the nephew answered: “Wāʻʹ. No, no! I do not want that.” The uncle ventured: “It may be, it is probable, you desire the flesh of the raccoon?” The youth answered: “No; that is not what the dream indicated.” Another question from the uncle: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire the flesh of the turkey?” His nephew said: “No; that is not what is required.” Again the uncle asked: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire the flesh of the deer?” The nephew rejoined: “No; that is not what the dream indicated.” Meanwhile the uncle and his nephew kept walking up and down in their respective places. Again the old man asked: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire my war club?” But his nephew replied: “No; that is not what I desire.” At last the old man spoke, saying: “Well, what, indeed, will take place? I moreover have the thing, but I would like to know what I have asked?” The nephew answered in disgust: “Wuʻʹ, you know that it is not the custom that there should be a lot of talk about such things when one is seeking the ‘dream word’ of another.” He did not give any intimation to his uncle as to what his dream had indicated to him, but he kept looking up at the sun to see how near midday it was. On resuming the struggle of questioning and replying, the uncle said: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire what I prize very highly—my fetish, which is very fine and with which I hunt,” at the same time showing it to his nephew to cause him to desire it. But the nephew answered merely: “No; that is not what my dream indicated to me.” It was then nearly midday. The old man, going to and fro and stopping now and then to ask the questions, would hang his head, saying to himself: “I wonder what can be the thing that my nephew desires.” Addressing the youth, he said: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire what I have prized highly, too, for a long time, namely, the otter fur which is white in color?” But the nephew replied: “No; that is not what I desire as answer to the demand of my dream.” Again looking up at the sun to see how near midday it was, and finding that it was very near the time for the contest to close, the old man said: “It may be, perhaps, that you desire what, too, I have prized and kept carefully in divers places, namely, my marten fur?” The nephew impatiently answered: “No; that is not what I desire at all.” At once he began to sing, for the time was about up. He said as he sang, “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering by exchange; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs, my uncle, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” Now the uncle was moving around on the opposite side of the fire. Suddenly, after the singing had commenced flames burst up all around the old man with the sound dauñʻʹ! At once he protested to his nephew, saying, “Go slow, go slow, with that, oh, nephew!” As the time had not quite expired, the nephew permitted the flames to go down again, whereupon the uncle said, “Oh, my nephew! you have been exceedingly rude with me.” But the nephew replied: “I can do nothing in this matter, for this has all been planned for me in advance. So I can do nothing.” As the time (midday) was soon to expire, the nephew again began to sing the song he sang at first, “Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering by exchange; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs, my uncle, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.” As before, flames at once burst all around the uncle as he stood on the opposite side of the fire. At once he exclaimed, “Oh, my nephew! do not be so hard in this thing.” But the youth again began singing: “The time is now up. Yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, he and I are bartering by exchange; yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, Sʻhogoⁿʻʹgwāʼs yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ, my own uncle, yuʹʻhĕñ, yuʹʻhĕñ.”