VII Horror Tales of Cannibals and Sorcerers
30. The Duel of the Dream Test Between Uncle and Nephew
There was a great long house built of poles and bark. This long house was in a secluded place where men were not accustomed to come, but there were sorcerers who knew its location, but shunned it, for there lived Shogon‘´gwā‘s and his nephew Djoñiaik. The nephew was young when the uncle assumed charge of him, and he had no real regard for the boy, for he had slain by sorcery all his near relatives, and knew that he must some day overcome the orenda (magic) that had accrued to the boy, or he himself would be undone.
Djoñiaik was carefully reared, for the uncle wished to make him suffer at the end and cry out his weakness, thereby more greatly enjoying the triumph over him.
When the boy had grown to the age just before he became eligible for his dream fast, the uncle said, “Now my nephew, the time has come when you should hunt for yourself without me. Go into the forest and bring me meat.”
Thereupon Djoñiaik took his small bow and after a time found a partridge which he shot. Bringing it to the lodge of his uncle he presented it to the elder man. “Oh now, my nephew,” said Shogongwas, “what is the name of this thing?”
“Oh my uncle,” replied the boy, “I have never known the name of this kind of a thing.”
“Ho!” exclaimed the uncle, “How then do you expect to be able to eat it?”
The boy then was given the task of cleaning the bird for soup, and when it was ready the older man put it in a clay kettle and boiled it with a gruel of corn meal. Then he lifted out the meat and placed it with the fat gravy in a bark bowl which he laid aside for himself. Taking another bowl he filled it with the thin soup from the middle of the kettle and handed it over the fire to the boy. The boy reached from his seat, stretching his arms and finally grasped the bowl, but as he did so the uncle pulled on the bowl and the boy fell face forward into the fire, scorching his chest and burning his hands. At this the uncle roared and called him clumsy, asking moreover, “Where is your soup? You have tried to put out the fire with it!”
With great gusto the uncle devoured the partridge, picking the bones clean and casting them into the fire. Djoñiaik had nothing for his meal and was very hungry. Wearily he wandered out into the thicket, coming at length to an unfamiliar spot where there was a low mound, as if a mud hut had fallen down and become overgrown. As he looked at the spot he heard a sound, “Ketcuta, ketcuta!” Peering more closely in the snow-covered moss he saw the face of a tcis´gä (skull) looking at his with open mouth.
“I am your uncle,” said the skull. “Give me tobacco.”
Djoñiaik obeyed, and when the skull had smoked a pipeful, it coughed and said, “I am your uncle, bewitched by my brother who has stolen you in order to work vengeance on you for the power you inherit from your relatives who have been killed by sorcery. You must remember the names of the animals you kill and the next one you shall find will be a raccoon. Remember its name and when your guardian asks you its name tell him ‘raccoon’.”
In time the boy went hunting again and finding a raccoon shot it. Greatly excited he began to repeat the name raccoon over and over. “Raccoon, raccoon, raccoon, raccoon,” he shouted as he bore it to his uncle’s lodge. But so rapidly was he running that he fell over the door-sill and sprawled into the lodge.
“Oh now nephew, what have you this time?” inquired the uncle, but so excited and chagrined was the boy that he totally forgot the name. “Wa!” exclaimed the old man, “If you cannot speak the name of this thing you shall not eat of it. Dress it for me and I will cook it as a soup.”
When the raccoon was cooked the old man skimmed off the fat and poured out some thin soup for Djoñiaik, who by this time was very hungry. Uncle and nephew sat on seats opposite each other with the lodge fire between. Passing over the bowl of soup the uncle gave a quick jerk as the boy grasped the rim and again pulled him into the fire.
“Oh nephew, I am sorry,” said he, laughing, “I am always in a hurry.” But Djoñiaik was sadly burned about the face and made no reply. With hungry eyes he watched his uncle stow away the uneaten portion of the raccoon. He had not a mouthful.
That afternoon he again visited his skeletal uncle and related all that had happened. He was thoroughly afraid now for his uncle was most ugly. But the skull, when it had smoked, only advised him to remember the names of the animals killed. “Today, I believe, you will shoot a turkey. Remember the name and begin to use your power to retaliate,” said the skull.
After watching quietly Djoñiaik saw a turkey,—a very large and fat turkey, which he shot. Tying its feet together he held it to his back by a burden strap and lugged it home, rushing into the lodge saying, “Turkey, turkey, turkey, turkey.”
This time the uncle asked no questions, but with a frown watched his nephew pluck the turkey and prepare it.
“This time I shall prepare a roast of meat,” said the boy. “I shall not make soup as my uncle does.” So he cooked the turkey in a pot and when done he divided the meat in two portions, putting each in a bark bowl. “Now come eat, Uncle,” said the boy handing the bowl over the fire to his uncle.
As the old man’s hand grasped the bowl, Djoñiaik gave it a quick pull, overbalancing his uncle and pulling him into the fire.
“Oh nephew!” exclaimed the uncle. “You have purposely abused me and burned my face and stomach. My hair is on fire. You have distressed me.” But the boy said only, “Oh I was in such a hurry.” And then he fell to eating the turkey, putting the uneaten portion on the shelf over his bed. This time the old man ate nothing.
The next morning very early the boy said, “I shall now arise and hunt game which comes to feed early in the morning.” So saying he arose, dressed and took his bow and went out. The old man was awake and looked very angry.
So Djoñiaik went directly to the skull and gave it tobacco. When it had smoked it said, “You shall hunt today and shoot a deer, but when you go back to the lodge your uncle will say, ‘It will be a cold night and I will gather large logs for a night fire.’ He will awaken at midnight with a dream and you must hit him on the head to awaken him, when he will relate his desire, it being to barter meat for fat bear casings. You must prepare yourself by taking a grape vine and transforming it as desired.” So instructed the boy went upon his hunt and killed a deer, bringing it home saying, “I have furnished a deer for the larder.” That night after they had eaten of the deer, the old man looked very angry.
“This will be a very cold night, I think,” said the old man. “I shall gather logs to burn during the night.” And so saying he made a roaring fire and went to bed.
Cautiously the nephew arranged his buffalo skin coverlet so that he had a peep-hole through a worn spot. At midnight the uncle arose and walking on his knees to the fire began to utter a worried sound, “Eñh, enh, enh, enh!” Then he threw one of the burning logs upon Djoñiaik, his nephew. Immediately the boy leaped up, being awake, and threw the log back into the fireplace, at the same time crying, “What is your dream, my uncle?” and then tapping the old man on the head with a club.
“It has now ceased,” answered the uncle, rubbing his head and becoming awake.
“The roof must be removed,” said the uncle, meaning that he had dreamed that the two must engage in a duel of wits. “Tomorrow we must barter, and I shall give, and you, Oh nephew, shall repay me with that which I must not tell you, but which you must guess, and failing great calamity will befall us.”
“That is very easy,” answered the boy. “Go to sleep; in the morning I will be ready.”
Morning came and the old man began to sing. “Yoh heh, yoh heh, yoh heh, I shall trade with my nephew Djoñiaik, and he shall give me my desire.” So did he sing continually.
It was a song that only a sorcerer would sing and its sound traveled far, so much so that all the wizards heard it and said, “Shogon‘´gwā’s is singing again and this time has chosen his own nephew as a victim.” So they all came and perched about in the house, being invisible, to watch the duel of orendas (magic powers).
Djoñiaik was bidden sit at the end of the long house, and it was very long indeed, there being many abandoned fireplaces in it. Far at the end he sat on the far side of an old fire bed. His uncle began to sing again, and walked forward with a bark tray in which were pieces of meat. “I offer these to you,” he said. “You shall give me what I am thinking about.”
“Only give me a clue, uncle,” begged the boy. “How can I divine what is in your mind?”
“Torture by fire awaits you if you guess not by mid-sun,” sang the old man still holding out the meat, while the boy pretended to be thinking deeply.
“Oh, uncle,” said the boy, “you desire raccoon meat.”
“No, not raccoon meat. Oh nephew, you must divine my word.”
“Oh uncle, you want turkey.”
“No not turkey. Oh nephew, you must divine my word.”
“Oh uncle, you want partridge.”
“No not partridge. Oh nephew you must divine my word.”
Again the boy sought to evade his uncle by exclaiming, “How can you expect me to guess your dream unless you give me some clue to your desire?”
Again the uncle fell to singing the charm song that conjures up flames, and suddenly they burst forth from the ground with a loud sound enveloping the poor nephew who wrestling with them, cried, “Oh uncle your desire is for the bear casings enclosed in deep fat.”
“Niio‘!” exclaimed the uncle, and the flames died down, whereupon Djoñiaik brought forth his grape stalk which he had conjured to look like the casings of a bear. Then was the uncle satisfied.
That afternoon the boy retired to the forest and sought his skeletal advisor, telling him all that had happened.
“Once more,” said the skull, “your uncle will make a demand and all the circumstances will be similar. This time he will desire a bear’s liver. Go to a log in the swamp, pluck a red tree fungus and rub it with your hands until it becomes a liver.”
So instructed the boy was ready for his wizard uncle. As before the logs were gathered and a great fire made, and in the middle of the night the old man flung fire upon the boy again.
When the dialogue was over the boy found that once more a test was to come. “It is nothing,” said he. “Go to sleep.”
Morning came and the old wizard sang his charm song. The boy took his seat as before and when pressed by the flame he cried out, “You wish a liver of a bear, Oh uncle.”
The uncle was not at all pleased with his nephew’s power for he wished to consume him with fire, after the manner prescribed for torture, but he could not.
Reporting the event to the skull, the boy asked for further help. “Tonight you must dream, and when your guardian has struck you with a club to awaken you, you must crave the guessing of your word, which shall be one of the squashes that grow in a sand box under your uncle’s bed. It is a great prize. Have no mercy but get what you demand.”
That night the boy gathered firewood, remarking that he expected the night to be very cold and wanted to warm the lodge. The uncle only scowled.
Midnight came, and the invisible wizards and sorcerers were watching. Stealthily the boy arose, and creeping on his knees, he approached the fire, grasping a blazing log and throwing it upon his uncle, as sleeping persons do. Then he began to grunt, “Eñh, enh, enh, enh,” as if in distress.
The uncle awoke, being severely scorched and his bed set afire. “Oh nephew,” he called as he gave the boy a knock on the head to awaken him. “What do you wish?”
“It has now ceased,” said the boy. “Oh uncle, I have dreamed that you and I must exchange gifts, and that you must give me what I desire.”
“It shall so be,” answered the uncle. “This is nothing.”
The two then retired and early in the morning the boy awoke and took his seat. In a tray he had some turkey meat.
Commencing his song he called out, “I am trading a gift with Shogon‘´gwa’s, my uncle. He shall give me in exchange what I most desire.” So saying he sang the charm song that conjures flames from the earth.
The old man took his seat and when approached said,
“I shall divine your word if you will give me a clue.”
“Any clue would spoil the intention of the dream, uncle.”
“Then tell me at once what you wish,—be quick about it!”
“To utter one word would be fatal to my desire.”
“Then the word is deer meat.”
“No not deer meat, uncle. Hurry for I shall sing.”
“Then you wish moose meat.”
“No not moose meat, uncle. Hurry or I shall sing.”
“Then you wish my coonskin robe.”
“No not your coonskin robe. I now commence to sing.”
“Then you wish my otterskin robe,” hastened the uncle, naming one of his prized possessions.
“No uncle, not your otterskin robe. I now sing.”
With a burst of the conjurer’s song, the boy began to sing, “Yoh heh, yoh heh, yoh heh. My uncle and I are exchanging. He shall give me what I most desire.” As he sang his flames leaped from the ground, for Djoñiaik was now an adept in magic. Surrounding the uncle the flames began to singe him. With a shriek he leaped to the platform above his bed, but the flames followed, until he called out, “Oh nephew I yield!”
Descending he said, “You desire the squash beneath my bed,” and the boy exclaimed, “It is so.”
With great reluctance the old wizard opened the bed, lifting up the bottom boards like the top of a chest. Beneath in boxes of sand were vines with squashes growing upon them, though it was winter outside. Taking a look at the largest, the old man shut down the cover and exclaimed:
“Oh nephew, it is the custom to simulate what is desired in a dream. I shall now carve you from wood a squash that you may preserve as a charm.”
“Only the real object desired shall satisfy me,” answered the boy. “Must I sing again?” And he started his song which brought forth flames that enshrouded the old man, causing him to cry out, “Oh nephew, I yield!”
This time the boy obtained the squash and with it the injunction to take care of it, for it was a great prize.
Reporting the episode to the skull, the boy received further instruction. He was to dream again and was to demand as the satisfying word, his hidden sister who was concealed in a bark case beneath the wizard’s bed. This was a great surprise to the boy, for he had not dreamed that he had a sister concealed, this being the treatment given children born with a caul. They were hidden by day and only allowed to go out by night.
“The wizard hopes to keep the child,” said the skull. “It is his greatest prize and unless you are very firm he will cause you to err, thereby escaping your demand. Have no pity but push him to the uttermost with your demand.”
Again the boy built the lodge fire and as midnight came, he crept from his coverings and crawled along the floor of the great cavernous lodge. Slowly creeping to the fire he seized a blazing log and with a cry flung it upon his sleeping uncle, at the same time grunting, “Enh, enh, enh, enh,” as if in distress.
With a whack of his club the old man awakened the boy, who called out, “It has ceased,” meaning the vision.
“Oh uncle,” he said. “I have dreamed that you must give me something in exchange for the gift I shall offer you tomorrow.”
“It shall be done,” answered the uncle with a dark frown.
Morning came and with it the test. Long the old man sought to cause the boy to make one small slip in the custom but he failed. Mid-day came and as the sun beat down through the smoke hole the boy began his charm song, causing flames to arise as torture for the old wizard.
After much haggling the old man opened his bed once more and revealed a bark case beautifully decorated. He removed this and placed it on a mat, after which he opened the case and unwrapped a small woman, beautifully white, and perfect in form, though only as long as a man’s arm.
“Oh nephew,” said the uncle, “Now that you have seen your sister, I will replace her and give you what is customary in such instances, a carved imitation. You will be greatly pleased with the doll I give you.”
In reply the boy gave his charm song and again the magic flames circled about the uncle like a clinging garment. “Oh nephew, I yield,” he cried and handed over the case.
After much haggling the old man opened his bed once assured that success would come if he withstood one more test,—that of bodily torture by cold. “Your uncle will dream tonight and his word will be satisfied only by causing you to be divested of all clothing and tied to a bark toboggan and dragged ten times around the long house where you dwell. I know not that you will endure, for your magic is equal.”
As predicted the old man dreamed that his nephew strip the next morning, though the weather was extremely cold. “I must drag you around the lodge ten times,” said the uncle, but first I must bind you securely with thongs.”
“It will be very easy,” said the boy. “Really, it is nothing at all.”
Emerging from the door the boy stood in the intense cold and stripped himself, throwing his garments back into the lodge. “Now I am ready,” said he, and his uncle then bound him tightly with thongs, placing him on the bark toboggan.
After the first trip around the uncle called out, “Oh nephew, are you still alive?” And the boy answered, “Yes, uncle,” in his loudest tones.
For a second time the uncle made a circuit of the long house, which was the longest in the world, and again called out, “Oh nephew, are you alive?” receiving an answer just a bit fainter, “Yes, uncle.”
Each time around the uncle asked the same question and each time the answer was fainter until the ninth time his nephew’s voice was scarcely audible. So he made another circuit, thinking as he made it, “This time he is frozen as stiff as an icicle.”
So when he had completed his tenth round he spoke again, “Oh nephew, are you alive?” And to his great surprise the boy called in the most sprightly tones, “Yes uncle,” whereupon he was released of the cords and entered the lodge.
All this the boy reported to the skull who said, “On this night you shall dream, and you shall demand that your wizard uncle submit to the same ordeal. Allow him no mercy, for if he gains in one point all is lost.”
Midnight came and with it the episode of the dream demand. The old man weakly yielded and then both slept until morning. The test then began, but the old man begged, saying, “I am old and if you will allow me to retain my clothing you will be satisfied.” But the nephew answered, “Oh no, uncle, I must be satisfied according to my desires. What you say has nothing to do with the event.”
“Then do not bind me, for the cords will cut my flesh and this is not a part of the demand.”
Nevertheless the boy bound his uncle and threw him on his toboggan. With the completion of each circuit he would ask his uncle if he were alive, and each time would be assured that he was. Upon finishing the ninth trip he again asked, “Uncle, are you alive?” but there was no reply and drawing the toboggan to the door he felt of his uncle and found him frozen as stiff as an icicle.
He thereupon, lifted the toboggan high, and his uncle was upon it. With a mighty fling he threw it afar and when it came down with a crash his uncle broke into bits like an image of ice.
Reporting the event to the skull he was praised for his endurance. “Now we shall all live again and those who have been overcome by magic will be set free,” said the skull. “Cover me with a bear skin and when I call lift me from the ground.” Soon he called and Djoñiaik grasped the skull and lifted it from the earth and with it the cramped body of the tcisga. Rubbing it with his hands and anointing it he restored it to the form of a normal man.
“I am your uncle, restored,” said the former skeleton. “Let us now search for your father and mother.” Together they set off and found another mound from which they conjured the skeletons of a man and a woman, and restored them by rubbing and by oil.
All with great joy returned to the long house where they attended to the little sister, Djoñiaik rubbing her as was his custom and restoring her to a full grown maiden.
Everyone was now happy, and the roosting wizards silently departed, leaving the great long house habitable for the restored family, and soon more men and women and children came to live in the long house and it became a dwelling where all were happy.
31. The Vampire Sirens Who Were Overcome by the Boy Whose Uncle Possessed a Magic Flute
There was a long bark lodge, alone by itself in a small clearing. Here dwelt an elderly man and his nephew. Hadno’´sĕn, the uncle, possessed a marvelous flute, which he kept in his war bundle, wherein also were all his charms for luck in warfare and in hunting. The flute possessed great power, and it was the oracle most consulted by the old man. Misfortune had befallen the people through the machinations of certain sorcerers, and the flute remained the only potent charm left by which the old man might foretell events.
As the uncle grew older he began to worry about the future, for he was reaching the age when men cease to go on hunting excursions. Now his nephew, Hauñwan´dĕn’, was at the age when it was considered that a boy is not yet ready for the rigors of the chase. Therefore, the old uncle was perplexed.
On a certain night the old man came home to the great empty bark lodge and threw down a deer. “This is my last hunt,” he exclaimed. “My nephew, you must soon learn to shoot.”
“Oh I can shoot as well as any one,” said the boy with great assurance, and so the old man gave him his bow and an arrow. “Shoot the spot where I have hit that stump with an arrow,” said the old man, and the boy taking the big bow and long arrow, pulled the cord back and shot. His arrow struck the very spot where his uncle had pointed out an arrow mark. “Tcă‘, tcă‘!” exclaimed the old man. “You are now able to shoot. Tomorrow you may go hunting, but first wait, I will tell you what animal you will be able to kill.”
So saying the uncle took his flute from its bundle and examined it. Then he blew a few notes of a charm song upon it. In another moment the flute itself uttered notes though nobody blew upon it. “This indicates that you will kill a deer,” announced the uncle.
The next day Hauñwandeh went into the forest alone and shot a deer, which he brought home to his uncle. “This is good,” said the uncle. “Now let me consult my flute again.”
Once again he blew the notes of the charm song upon his flute, waited a moment and then heard it call out, “Two deer shall be killed tomorrow.”
“Now, my nephew,” said the uncle looking very grave, “I must tell you that while you must in the future hunt for both of us, you must never go south. Listen to what I say, never go south.”
On the morrow the boy returned dragging two deer and threw them on the ground outside his uncle’s doorway. Again the uncle expressed his satisfaction, and again he consulted his flute. “My nephew,” he announced after listening to the oracle, “tomorrow you shall kill a deer and a fat bear. Again I warn you never to go south.”
The boy that night had troubled dreams and through his mind the question was repeated over and over, “Why may I not go south, Oh why may I not go south?”
The hunting continued each day as before, but the boy was greatly troubled about his uncle’s command. Nevertheless he obeyed until he saw that the lodge was well supplied with meat which hung in the smoke from every rafter, curing for winter’s use. Then he thought that come what might to him he would go south, and if he died his uncle would have plenty to eat for a long time.
So resolved he went on his hunt, and by taking a circuitous route, he went from east to south. Soon he found the trail of an elk which he followed southward for a very long ways. Greatly fatigued by the chase he still kept up the pursuit, until he came to a little open place in the forest, where to his great surprise he saw a young woman sitting on a log at the side of the trail. She looked up at him with a bewitching smile and said, “Come sit on the log with me, you look tired.”
Hauñwandeh looked at her, found her pleasing, and so went to the log and sat down, saying nothing. Soon the girl spoke again. “It is not customary,” said she, “for young people to sit so far apart when they meet as we have done. Draw close to me and rest your head on my lap, for you are very tired.”
The boy therefore sat closely to her and then placed his head in her lap. Thereupon the girl fell to stroking his hair and scratching his head, looking the while for wood lice. As she did this the boy began to feel sleepy and fearing something of evil might befall him tied one of his hairs to a root beneath the log, which act the girl did not notice. Then he fell into a deep sleep.
When the young woman saw that he was fully asleep she began to pat his body with her hand, and the boy shrunk in size with every pat until he was so small that the young woman placed him with ease in the basket she carried. Then she leaped into the air and flew away, as witches do. In a short time, however, she came to a halt and was slowly drawn back to the log from which she had started. The hair had stretched its limit and drew her back. She took the boy out of the basket and struck him with a small paddle and he became restored. “I will fix him next time,” thought she.
Hauñwandeh was now in the power of the witch-girl and stayed all day with her, until he became sleepy again, when she stroked his head once more, putting him to sleep. Making him small by patting, she again placed him in her basket and flew through the air to a river bank. Taking him out she asked, “Do you know where you are?” Hoping to destroy her magic he answered, “Oh yes, I know where I am. This is the place where my uncle and I catch our fish.” So she put him in her basket and flew to an island in a large lake. Taking him out she questioned him further, “Do you know this place?” Still hoping to deceive her he answered, “Oh this is the place where my uncle and I come with our canoe.”
Angry that she could not take him to an unfamiliar spot the witch-girl replaced him in her basket and leaped high in the air, this time taking him to a far distant place. Descending she alighted on the edge of a great precipice, so deep that the tops of the trees below were only faintly visible. She gave a shriek and threw the basket over the cliff.
Now Hauñwandeh, being attacked by the powers of witchcraft, began to develop his own magic power, and when he went over the cliff and felt himself falling, he desired to fall as an autumn leaf, and so he fluttered down to the bottom without injury. He tumbled out of the basket and saw that he was in a deep hole in the earth and that there was no means of escape. Looking about him he saw the skeletons of numerous men, and not far away he saw two men who were alive but partially eaten.
They spoke to him. “Oh miserable youth,” said they. “We are of the opinion that you have not long to live.”
“How did you get here?” asked the boy.
“We met a young woman,” said they, “who lured us to be friendly with her, and she stroked our hair, then took us in a basket and threw us down the cliff. A great bird comes and bites our bodies and we are being eaten and yet cannot die.”
As they spoke, a gigantic bird flew by, and darting at the youth, took a large bit out of his arm. He looked at the wound and licked it, and it immediately healed.
When the uncle missed his nephew he became greatly distressed. Taking out his flute he looked at it and found that the mouth of it was stained with a smear of blood. “Agi‘,” he exclaimed. “My nephew has disobeyed and now is wounded.”
The next day the big bird returned and took a mouthful from the boy’s arm, but as before he placed the wound to his mouth and healed it by his own power.
That night the waiting uncle looked at his flute again and found it very bloody. “Agi‘,” he exclaimed, “some direful thing has happened and I shall never see my nephew again.”
On the following day the bird swooped at him and tore his body cruelly, eating large chunks of it, but as before he healed himself.
As he lay pondering over his misery he heard a voice and looking up saw a little old woman. Very small was she and stooped over. “I have taken pity on you,” she said. “I have a medicine for you. Take it and if in the morning you find a green sprig coming from your mouth, snatch it quickly, for it is a quickly growing tree. Pull up the plant that you find beneath your feet and put the green sprig into the hole. It will grow to the top of the cliff and you may escape. If you have strong power within you there can be no failure.” So saying she handed the boy a small white root which he swallowed. Seeing this the little old woman vanished.
The next morning Hauñwandeh felt a pain in his stomach and soon he felt a scratching in his throat. Out came a green sprig which he snatched quickly and, pulling up a small withered plant he thrust the sprig into the hole and waited.
For a very long time the uncle awaited the return of his nephew, and mourned greatly. Not once did he leave the lodge but sat within with his face covered with the white ashes from the lodge fire. Each day a sound would be heard and a voice would call, “Hail Uncle, I have returned!” Leaping up with gladness the uncle would look out, but see only a scampering fox or mocking screech owl, or perhaps a wild goose. So he fell to answering all calls by saying, “Depart quickly, I know that you are deceiving me.” So, in mourning he sat, covered with ashes and growing thinner and weaker every day.
Hauñwandeh watched the green sprig, and noticed that it had begun to grow. This pleased him greatly and he called all the bones in the valley saying: “I will gather you together in one pile. I will cause your resurrection and you shall escape with me for I have a growing tree which we may climb.” So saying he gathered the bones in a pile and called quickly, “Hurry now, for you shall arise. Quickly, for the tree is growing. Hasten, for I am now thrusting a tree upon you, and you must arise before the tree falls upon you.” Then he kicked over the tree and it fell, but before it touched the ground all the skeletons arose looking like men. The two partly eaten men recovered and said, “We are your relatives.” Now two men who had been restored fell to quarreling, because each had taken the other’s legs in the haste of arising, but the boy commanded them to be still and follow him up the tree. So all followed, and he further ordered all to look upward and not downward, for one look downward meant destruction. The tree was very tall and it took a long time to climb it, and when the company had climbed a long ways the two quarreling men looked down to see how far they had gone, and as they looked they turned to skeletons again and their bones rattled through the limbs of the tree and past the others who were climbing.
At length all reached the top and gathered about the edge of the cliff. Then the boy saw that the company looked very friendly, and he discovered two brothers among them. “I must go to the house of the young woman,” he said to his brothers. “I leave this company in your care. I must overcome the evil magic of the great witches. When I have done this I shall return. Wait for me.”
Hauñwandeh determined to have his revenge. He sought the house of the witches and went straight toward it. Reaching the door, he entered saying, “I have come.”
Sitting in the lodge was the young woman who had bewitched him, and at the lodge fire was the mother, the great witch, and in the rear of the lodge were six daughters.
The mother looked up, saying, “Oh son-in-law, I dreamed you would come. My daughter is waiting for you.”
That night the old witch became disturbed in her sleep and arose and flung herself in the fire, crying out a strange noise. Hauñwandeh grabbed the corn pounder and hit her on the head, saying, “Awake and tell me.” So she awoke and said, “Oh son-in-law, I have dreamed that calamity will befall us unless you repair to the long lake and kill two white otters, and do it quickly, before the skin curtain of the lodge door stops swinging, from your out-going.”
“That will be very easy,” answered the youth. “Be at ease and I will soon return.” So speaking he tied his long hairs together and made a string that reached from the door to the lake. This he tied to the skin curtain and kept it swinging as he ran to the lake.
“Otters come forth,” he commanded, and one great white otter leaped from the lake, but the youth killed it with a round white stone that he carried in his pouch. As he did this a wave arose and sped toward him bearing on its crest the other great white otter. As it leaped toward him he killed it as he had the first. Running back to the lodge he flung the bodies in, with a laugh, exclaiming, “Here are your otters.”
“Where?” screamed the witch woman, leaping from her bed. “Here,” he replied. “I shall now build the fire and skin them.” He did this, saving the skins and throwing the carcasses into the fire. At this the witch woman screamed, “Oh, you have killed my brothers!” And the boy replied, “Did you not require this of me?” It was true, the otters were the witch woman’s wizard brothers, and they were mighty in magic. The water in which they lived was magic water and when it touched the skin of a man the flesh was eaten off, as if scalded. But Hauñwandeh was harmed not at all. He was becoming a great wizard himself.
The following night the witch woman dreamed again and when awakened by her son-in-law, required that he immediately depart and kill a great eagle that dwelt in the top of a certain tall tree, and do so before the door curtain stopped swinging from his departure. Hauñwandeh obeyed and finding the tree, shot a strong arrow at the big bird, but though he used great force in drawing the bow, the arrow paused in mid air and returned. The eagle’s magic was too great. Again he shot an arrow, commanding it to kill the eagle, and the arrow obeyed, piercing the heart of the bird. It fell to his feet, and grabbing it in haste he ran to the lodge. With a laugh he flung it in the door saying, “Here is your third brother!” “Where?” shrieked the old witch, leaping from her bed. “Right here by the fire,” answered Hauñwandeh. “I shall now skin it and burn its body.” When he had done this, the old witch was in a great rage. With all six daughters she was screaming and waving her blanket.
Hauñwandeh then beckoned to the young woman who had bewitched him. She looked frightened. “Come along,” he commanded, “this is a bad place. We are going away.”
Taking the young woman outside, he ordered her to look at the lodge, at the same time saying, “House become flint. House become heated red hot.” The house obeyed and all the witches inside perished.
Then he took the young woman to the precipice and greeting the men he had rescued said, “This young woman is said to be my wife.” So saying he tied her with bark cords and flung her over the cliff.
The entire company of restored men then followed Hauñwandeh, and he led them back to his uncle’s lodge, calling from without, said, “Hail uncle, I have returned.”
Again and again he called, and after a time he heard a voice answering, “Be away, be away from here! I shall not be deceived again by you animals!”
“I am your nephew,” called the boy. “I have returned.”
“Well, if you are my nephew thrust your hands through the hole in the curtain and grasp the door-post,” said the uncle.
The boy did as suggested and his uncle tied his arms very tightly, so that he was made prisoner. Then the uncle looked out and saw his nephew.
“Oh wait until I become cleaned,” cried the uncle, brushing off the ashes and washing his blackened face.
So he cleansed himself and untied his nephew’s arms. Then he invited all the restored relatives into the lodge for a great feast; so then Hauñwandeh told the story of his adventures; that is how we know about it.
32. Younger Brother Eludes His Sister-in-Law by Creating Obstacles and Liberates Older Brother
Far from any settlement of Oñgwe Hoñwe‘, there was a lonely lodge wherein dwelt two brothers, one older than the other. Older Brother was the hunter and provided meat for the lodge, and Younger Brother cooked the food. All things went well until upon a certain day Older came home with no game. Younger carefully observed his clothing and found fresh blood stains upon it, thereby knowing that he had killed game.
Day by day the brother now returned without game of any kind, although his body and clothing proved by blood stains that he had been successful. Food in the lodge became scarce and Younger began to get very hungry, but Older seemed to be well fed. Younger watched him and noticed that he seemed to be thinking of something other than the matters about which he spoke. Inquiry revealed nothing of value, for Older would always say, “Oh my Younger Brother, you should not bother me.”
The Older Brother went on another hunting trip, taking many accoutrements, as if for a long trip. Younger determined to follow him and spy upon his actions. Carefully tracking Older, Younger went down the trail until he came to a spring, where he noticed a small path concealed by leaves and branches. He determined to follow this. In a short time he saw a new lodge. It appeared to be very new for the bark had not yet fully dried, being still of the smell of the tree. Concealing himself in a clump of bushes he watched. Soon he heard two voices, one of them a woman’s. The woman was ordering a man to do certain things and he was pleading to be set free. Soon a man came out of the lodge and went west. Younger then saw that it was his brother.
When Older had been gone for a time Younger stood up and walked toward the lodge, making a noise with his feet to attract attention. The woman heard the sound and came out of the house. She was young and very handsome and had a peculiar way of lifting her head and when she looked she seemed to draw her eyes together making an upright wrinkle between. Her eyes seemed yellow with bright spots in them.
Soon she observed Younger standing still on the path and smiled, calling him to her. He advanced to the lodge and she stepped inside, saying “Dadjoh,” inviting him in. Younger entered and the young woman embraced him and placed her hand on his body, in greeting. Younger noticed that she had a hook on her hand attached to a long fish line and that she was endeavoring to fasten the hook into him. He fled from the lodge and ran down the trail, saying, “I will make ready and return.” Younger now returned to his own lodge and awaited the coming of Older Brother.
After a long time Older returned and sat down by the fire. Younger looked at him a while, and noticed as usual, blood stains on his shirt. He observed something else.
At last Younger spoke. “My Older Brother,” he said, “It is my opinion that you have a fishhook in your neck. You are held by a long line that goes out of the lodge. I shall now proceed to remove the hook.”
Taking Older out of the lodge he removed the hook and fastened it to a thorn bush that stood on the edge of a cliff. “Oh now, my Older Brother, I must tell you that soon a woman, who is your wife, will pull on the line and when you do not return she will be after you. Such is my opinion. I also think that the woman is a sorceress and that she will endeavor to kill both of us. Now I have acquired strong magic and will save you. You must stand here and allow me to pat you into a small object which I will place in the hollow of an antler-tipped arrow-point. I will shoot this arrow into the sky. It will go a long ways and then fall to the ground. When you strike the ground become normal in size and run as fast as you can until you find a new lodge far to the east. There dwell until I come for you.”
Now all happened as related by Younger and when the arrow was shot it made a path in the sky, and striking the earth, Older came out of the conical tip and ran east.
After the arrow’s flight the sorceress pulled on the fish line, seeking to draw Older back to her, but the string held fast. So she followed the line until she came to the thorn bush. Then she saw what had happened and was very angry. Her first thought was to hunt for Younger, to whom she attributed the blame.
Younger ran as fast as he could, aided by his magic, but the sorceress was swifter than he and soon saw him before her. With a shrill cry she bore down upon him making a barking sound and yelling, “You cannot escape me, you cannot escape me.”
Younger then disappeared around a big rock and took off his moccasins. “Run to the end of the world,” he commanded, and then transformed himself into the likeness of an old stump.
On came the sorceress, following the moccasin tracks. She paused at the stump and then said, “Most truly this stump looks like a man, but I see his tracks going in a direction away from here.” Thereupon she began her chase again yelling as was her custom, “You cannot escape me.” After a long time she came to the end of the world and found a pair of moccasins. Her rage was terrible and she tore up the ground, saying, “He thinks, perhaps, that he has deceived me, but I will find him. He cannot escape me.” She retraced her steps and came to the place where the stump had been but it had vanished, for Younger had been running away all this time. The sorceress followed his trail until she came into sight of him again, when she yelled, “You cannot escape me.” When she was almost upon him he took a small round stone from his pocket and cast it upon the ground, at the same time running with all the speed his magic would give.
The stone became an immense escarpment, so high that the sorceress could not climb over it. She uttered exclamations in token of her disgust and began to run at the foot of the cliff but it went on without ceasing until she came to the end of the world, when she ran back to the place where she had started and then on to the other end of the world. Returning she began to push the cliff and then to beat it with her hands. Finally she ran into it trying to batter it down with her head but she crashed into the rock with such force that she fell down as if hit by a war club, and fainted. For a long time she lay still like a dead person, but finally revived. Looking about she spied a small white stone. “Tcisna!” she exclaimed, “Have I been overcome by so small a stone? I now perceive that the boy is a magician.”
Again she began to run and soon again saw Younger running before her. “You cannot escape me,” she called as she ran toward him, whereupon Younger took a handful of pigeon feathers from his pouch and cast them into the air, saying, “Do you become a great pigeon roost as if of long duration.”
With this command the feathers became pigeons and they flew through the trees until all were filled. Beneath them the ground became deep with slime and into this the sorceress ran. She drew back for it was like a pitch bed to a beetle. In vain she tried to plow through, and then turned and ran along the edge until she reached the end of the world, and failing to break through she ran the other way, but found the slime made a track to the other end of the world. Returning to the middle spot she began to beat it with her head, but became smothered and fell down in a faint, as if dead.
After a long time she revived and found a pigeon feather on her nose. “Tcisna!” she exclaimed. “This boy is a magician. But he cannot escape me.” So crying, she started the pursuit again and after a long time saw him ahead of her running very fast. When she was nearly upon him Younger stamped his foot into the ground and cried, “Become a deep hole.” Then he ran on. The sorceress came to the hole but it was so wide and so deep that she could not cross it. She endeavored to run around it but could not find an end in either direction and finally returned to the starting point and endeavored to jump across, but she fell in with a loud noise and went to the bottom, knocking her head on a stone. Long she lay stunned and when she revived she looked about and saw only a moccasin track in the mud, laid across the path. “He is a magician, he thinks, but he cannot escape me,” cried the sorceress, and began the chase once more.
Now after a time Younger came to a broad river where he saw a great number of people swimming about and racing in the water. He heard the sounds of the sorceress as she pursued him and exerting his magic said, “May the swimmer who is the greatest distance out in the river take on my appearance, whilst I become a tree stub.” The angry sorceress reached the river and paused at the stub, and soon discovered the appearance of Younger far out in the river. In plunged the angry woman and soon came to the bather whom she saw was not her victim. With a cry she swam back to the shore to find the deceiving tree stub, but it had vanished leaving moccasin tracks in the direction it had taken.
Younger ran very fast this time for he was almost at the end of his tricks. When he was about discouraged, a strange old man with a broad back and a wide mouth appeared before him. “My nephew,” said the old man. “My name is Toad. I will aid you in your escape. I understand that there is a woman who is pursuing you, and this is great trouble. Get on my back and bounce up and down. I will give a spring and throw you far up on a smooth hill. Climb as far as you can to the top.”
Younger clambered on Toad’s back which was very springy, and Toad arose with a leap throwing Younger far through the air and landing him on the surface of a slippery hill. He endeavored to climb the hill but reaching a very shiny spot fell into a groove and began to slip. Down, down he slipped with great rapidity until he slid with a cloud of dust into a big lodge where an old woman and her two daughters were boiling bear oil over the fireplace.
“Augh!” cried the old woman, “I guess somebody has fallen in our trap. Let us see what it is.”
When the women saw Younger, the old woman asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh my aunt,” exclaimed the distressed Younger. “I have been running away from a very evil witch. She is now pursuing me. I met an old man who threw me upon a slippery hillside and I slipped down where I am now sitting.”
“Well, she is coming now,” said the old woman. “You climb up on the platform over my bed and hide. I think I can overcome this witch.”
Younger obeyed with alacrity, and soon heard the sorceress slide into the lodge, crying, “He cannot escape me!”
“What are you doing here?” asked the old woman.
“I am pursuing a very bad magician,” answered the sorceress. “He has caused me much trouble. Have you seen him in this lodge?”
“Oh yes, my niece,” answered the old woman. “I have him now. He is a great magician and went into this pot of bear oil.”
Now the old woman possessed magic, and conjured the face of Younger into the bottom of the pot of oil.
The sorceress looked in, and, crying, “You cannot escape me now,” leaped into the pot, going to the bottom. Now the oil was boiling and it killed her so that she could never return to life again. It was the end of her.
Then the old woman called Younger and said, “I have been waiting for you a long time. I notice that you are of our kind of people. You shall become my son-in-law, by taking my youngest daughter.”
Younger looked at the girl and saw that she was most desirable. He had never seen a girl who was so much to his taste. So soon they were married.
Younger lived in the lodge with the women and he hunted for them, bringing in a great number of deer every day, which the women dried and smoked. After a year Younger’s wife bore him two sons. They were precocious boys who learned to talk very early, also to play about.
It was not long before they were full grown and asked where their relatives lived. Younger, their father, answered that all had been killed by sorcery but their uncle, his own brother, whom he has rescued by sending him away in an arrow.
“It is well,” said the boys. “We will go after him.” So they set forth after their uncle. Long they traveled until in a strange country they found an old lodge and in it a lonely old man with a sore spot in his neck, which he was continually nursing.
“Our uncle,” they called to him. “We two are your nephews and have come for you. Come with us. We have an aunt older than our mother. You can marry her.”
So Older returned with his nephews and when he came to the lodge he found his brother Younger. Then he saw the woman who would become his wife. He liked her and they were soon married. All lived together and they had no more trouble with wizards or witches. Younger had too much power now, and everything otgont (evil) was afraid of him.
33. The Island of the Cannibal
Ganondai´yeo lived with his aged grandparents in the depths of a great wood. The old people were always sad but Ganondai´yeo was never able to discover the cause and inquiry would only bring the injunction, “Never go west!” The boy obeyed and played happily in the forest to the north and the south and the east but shunned the dark woods to the west.
At length Ganondai´yeo began to reason upon the matter:
“Never go west,” he said to himself. “Now why may not I go west? Is not west as good as east? Surely I am denied my rights and shall no longer submit. I am going to find out why the west is to be avoided.”
Thus determined, he crept cautiously through the vine-bound underbrush and with caution advanced in a westerly direction. He kept on for some time and then, to his surprise, found himself on the borders of a large body of swift water. He looked across the broad expanse with admiration and wonder. Was this the sight his grandparents wished to deny him? “Oh the shameful rule that forbade him this!” he thought. While he was gazing at the scene and meditating upon it, he heard a sound behind him. A pleasant voice was saying:
“Hai‘, Hai‘! Is it not a beautiful stream and wonderful too? Did you never see it before? Come, jump into my canoe and let us visit some of the inlets and islands that are found hereabouts. We will return in a short time and you will have seen sights worth talking about.”
Ganondai´yeo was charmed with the words of the stranger, and following him, stepped into the canoe that lay on the sandy beach of a cove. The stranger gave the canoe a shove with his paddle and sent it shooting out from the shore. With swift even strokes he carried it far out from the land.
“We shall visit a beautiful island,” said the stranger.
A short distance ahead Ganondai´yeo saw a small island in the center of which was a dense clump of trees. It lay near a very large island. Such a charming spot was it that he wondered if its inhabitants were men or ghosts.
Soon the canoe grated upon the sandy beach and, both jumping out, the stranger drew up the canoe.
“Now,” said he, “look around and see what a fine place this is. Oh you will like it,—you will like it; I do!”
Ganondai´yeo walked up the shore toward a tall plant that bore flowers, (a mullen stalk). He stood viewing it for a few moments and then turning to follow his guide found that he had disappeared. He ran to the water to find the canoe but to his dismay found that it, too, had gone. Glancing up and over the lake he saw far in the distance the canoe and the stranger, and then he realized his situation.
Heavy hearted he dragged himself halfway around the island and then walking inland for a few rods sat down dejectedly on a fallen tree. Tears filled his eyes and he moaned bitterly, “I am a miserable creature.”
While he thus sat lamenting his fate he heard a loud whisper, “Kechuta, kechuta!”
Starting up he looked around to discover the source of the sound but failing, sank back to his seat with a groan of pure misery.
Presently he heard the same sound, “Kechuta!”
It seemed to issue from the ground at his very feet. This time he was thoroughly frightened, and again he looked about to discover, perchance, who the speaker was, but as before he failed and flinging himself upon the log began to weep violently.
“Kechuta!” came the sound again and looking down at the ground at the end of the log he noticed a white glistening spot. Poking away the sod he saw first the hollow eye socket of a skull and then jaws full of white teeth.
“Kechuta!” said the skull and then Ganondai´yeo knew that the thing wished to smoke. “Dig into the sod by that knot on the log and you will find my bag and pipe,” so spoke the man-reduced-to-bones.
Marveling, the boy obeyed and soon pulled out a decayed pipe bag and a tobacco pouch. He packed the pipe bowl full of tobacco. Then picking up a hard round stick, the size of an arrow shaft he twisted it in his bow string, placed a pitted stone on one end and put the other end on the log. Pushing his bow backward and forward he twirled the stick with great rapidity. Soon a tiny spark ignited the wood dust and caught in a blaze on the shredded cedar bark. It was a laborious task but Ganondai´yeo at length had the pipe in smoking order. Leaning over he pried apart the jaws of Tcis´gä, as he had named the skeleton, and pushed the pipe stem between its teeth. Tcis´gä smoked with great diligence and exclaimed, “Agwas´wio‘, oh how good, how I enjoy it. I’ve not had a smoke in a great while. Oh I am glad you came to me! Now let me tell you a story, but first fill up this pipe again. There. Now, boy, this is an enchanted island. You are trapped, the same as I was and the same as many more have been. There is a man who lives here, there is a man who visits here and there is a man who hires men here. He who lives here is S’agowenot´‘a, a great sorcerer, he who visits here is Oñgwe Iās, an evil ogre. Both eat men. They ate me, they ate many others; they will eat you unless you listen closely. Before sunrise tomorrow, run to the beach where you landed and bury yourself in the sand only leaving one eye and an ear uncovered. Look and listen. No one has ever escaped; but you may if you obey me, and moreover you overcome the island’s evil spell.”
The boy solemnly promised obedience and after a restless night ran to the beach and buried himself in the sand. Soon he heard the sound of singing on the water. The song grew louder and Ganondai´yeo knew that the singer was nearing the beach. He heard the sound of the canoe as it shot up against the sand and knew that the singer had landed. He listened closely to the song and then hummed it softly to himself. The sound of footsteps neared and turning his eye he saw a man whose grim visage pronounced him a man of terrible passion. Ganondai´yeo looked as well as he could from his hole in the sand and knew that was Oñgwe Iās. At the feet of the ogre was a pack of dogs who followed him up the incline.
As Oñgwe Iās stepped upon the island Sagowanota sang his magical song from his den in the grove.
When Oñgwe Iās reached the top of the incline he roared, “Well, where is my meal?”
“He cannot be found,” came the answer. “Put your eyes in the bushes,—send the dogs after him,” roared Oñgwe Iās.
The search was fruitless and grumbling in rage the man returned to his canoe, threw in his dogs and jumping in, swept his paddle through the water and sped back to mainland.
Ganondai´yeo jumped from his place of concealment and rushed to the log where Tcis´gä lay. Breathlessly he told what he had seen and heard and told how thankful he was that he had escaped being eaten.
“Smoke, tobacco, I wish to smoke,” whispered Tcĭs´gä, dustily. So taking an ember from the fire he had started Ganondai´yeo lit the pipe and shoved it between the teeth of the skull. When it had finished smoking it said, “I am glad that you have succeeded so well. It is an omen of good fortune. Now listen. Make seven dolls from dry rotten wood and make a small bow and arrow for each, then, place each doll in the top of a tree. Conceal yourself in the sand again and see what will happen.
Ganondai´yeo did as directed and the next day when Oñgwe Iās landed he grumbled loudly and vowed he would find the boy for he was very hungry. He strode up the beach and his dogs with noses close to the ground followed the track of Ganondai´yeo as it circled the isle. Suddenly one dog with a yelp fell pierced with an arrow. Oñgwe Iās yelled in rage and his rage increased as one after another fell dead. Snatching up the body of each he threw it upon his shoulder and going back flung it into his canoe, and then paddled back across the lake.
Leaping from the sand Ganondai´yeo ran back to Tcis´gä and related his observations.
After Tcis´gä had been satisfied with tobacco he said to Ganondai´yeo:
“Now I will tell you more. Oñgwe Iās, always fearing death, leaves his heart in his lodge. It hangs suspended over a pot of water; likewise the hearts of the dogs. When he returns he will place the dogs’ hearts back within their chests and as they beat the dogs will revive. He will then remove them and return to the island on the morrow to renew his search for you. Now listen closely. Bury yourself in the sand as before and as Oñgwe Iās approaches the shore sing the Sagowenota song. Oñgwe Iās will then rush up the shore, the dolls will shoot again and while Oñgwe Iās is obscured in the bushes jump into his canoe, go directly across the water and when you touch the shore you will find a path that leads to a lodge. Enter the lodge and destroy the hearts you find there. Then you may return to me.”
The next morning Ganondai´yeo covered himself with sand and when he heard the song of Oñgwe Iās floating over the water he shouted back:
“I have caught a rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,
Soon I’ll skin it, skin it, skin it!”
Oñgwe Iās stopped short in his song and listened. Then he shouted back:
“Ho-yo-ho! So you have him. So, I’ll be there!”
From a mound in the center of the island came a voice. In pleading tones it cried:
“No, no! I did not call you. Do not come. Oh do not!”
“Oh no,” came the mocking reply. “You cannot cheat me. You have found him and wish to eat him alone.”
Landing, Oñgwe Iās ran toward the mound. Ganondai´yeo jumped into the boat and with his swiftest, strongest stroke sent it gliding out over the lake. At length he reached the land. Leaping to the shore he ran up a path and burst through the curtain into a lodge. A young girl was refining bear oil by boiling it in a kettle. Without stopping to greet her Ganondai´yeo cried:
“Give me his heart!”
“No, no, do not touch it. It is his, it is his!” remonstrated the girl in terror.
There was the sound of foot steps outside. Oñgwe Iās had followed in some mysterious manner and was now at the door. Springing toward the back of the lodge, Ganondai´yeo grasped a large beating heart. Oñgwe Iās was pushing aside the curtain and now snarled in terrible rage as he saw the boy who should have been his victim holding his heart. With marvelous swiftness Ganondai´yeo flung the heart into the pot of boiling fat. The ogre tottered. His dogs began to yelp up the trail and as Ganondai´yeo glanced through the door between the curtain and the swaying body of Oñgwe Iās, and saw their dripping bodies, red eyes and froth laden fangs as they leaped toward their master, Oñgwe Iās trembled, and fell. Ganondai´yeo swept the seven dogs’ hearts into the scalding liquid only a moment before the ogre crashed his head into the fire, breaking the pot of oil and spilling out the hearts. Oñgwe Iās was dead and seven dogs lay before the door.
The girl who during this terrible scene had cringed in one corner now rushed toward Ganondai´yeo with a glad cry.
“Oh my brother!” she cried. “You have rescued me. I am your sister who was captured. Oñgwe Iās kept me as his slave. Oh my brother, you have saved our family!”
Ganondai´yeo hardly knew what to make of these words but looking down at the girl saw in her his lost sister, lost years ago. He rejoiced with her and then running back to the shore paddled swiftly to the Isle of Fears. Going up to the log he appeased his friend Tcĭs´gä with tobacco and told his story.
“Now,” said Tcĭs´gä, “you have done well. You can be of great service to me if you will obey a few more instructions; for instance, shoot that fat bear over there and place her pelt over this little mound where I am. Scold that stump and make it move away so that you may cover the mound entirely. Then smoke!”
Ganondai´yeo was startled as he looked up and beheld an enormously fat bear asleep not ten steps from him. Fixing an arrow he shot and killed the beast and removed its hide. Walking up to the stump he shouted:
“What is the matter with you? Get out of my way or I will smash you. Go on now and with the help of a kick the stump jumped backward into a clump of bushes. Placing the skin over the mound Ganondai´yeo built a little fire and began to throw on tobacco to make the smoke fragrant.
The sun was hot and the oil fairly dripped from the skin into the ground.
Ganondai´yeo became impatient. “What is the trouble with you, Tcĭs´gä?” he called. “Move lively. You are lazy. Hurry or I will leave. I cannot wait all day. Hurry or I will kick over this stump upon you.”
There was a slight movement beneath the bear’s skin.
“Hurry now,” continued the boy, “or I will pull off the skin,” and stooping down he gave it a fling. As he did so from the ground arose a company of men. All were quarreling. “You have my legs—my fingers—you have my hands—you have my feet—my ribs—my neck—where is my backbone—three ribs missing—oh someone has my whole body—didn’t have time—made us hurry—too quick—short notice!” came the mingled cries from the strange swarm.
Before Ganondai´yeo was as queer a company of men as the sun has ever seen. Some had one long leg and one short one, some were hump-backed, some small-bodied and large-limbed, some had head on backward, some had no necks, some double the wonted length, and soon each man was a sight to behold. All were angry, and fighting, disappeared into the forest, all but one. It was Tcĭs´gä. He stepped forward and took Ganondai´yeo by the hand and said,
“I am your brother, let us go home.”
Hastening to the shore the two seated themselves in the canoe and paddled back to the lodge on the opposite shore. A meal awaited them and after eating it the boys built a great fire and burned the evil lodge.
That night the three slept in the open. The next morning the brothers and their sister tramped through the forest and found the old people mourning over the loss of Ganondai´yeo.
The old folk were exuberant with joy when they found that not only was Ganondai´yeo well and alive but also their other grandchildren.
The boys built a large lodge and made the days of the old people easy with soft beds, much meat and pleasant company.
Then the grandparents said, “We are old and wise but we know now that which we did not before: It is evil to forbid a boy of resource to do or go without a reason.”
So here it ends, this ga-gah, this ancient story.
34. The Twelve Brothers and the Wraith of the Evil Warrior
A Story of Shodje´askon‘, a Mischief Maker.
Twelve brothers had planned a war expedition and singing their songs had started a war dance. Scarcely had they begun when a messenger came running towards them and related that Hadi´ĭŭsgōwa´, the greatest warrior of the nation, was dying and wished the twelve brothers to officiate at his funeral. In respect to the man who far and wide had the name of being the most terrible and successful warrior in all the world the twelve brothers postponed their dance and hurried to minister to the dying warrior. He desired them to dress him, not in the customary funeral robes but in the full regalia of battle with his knife at his side and his tomahawk in his hand. His face he wished painted black on one side and red on the other, in token that he was the fiercest warrior in all the earth.
So when he died the twelve brothers prepared his body just as was directed and doubled him up in his shallow grave. When the funeral rites were over the brothers renewed their dance and on the next morning started off on their war expedition to the south.
Now in those days the Iroquois had trails that led from their villages to all parts of the world. At the distance of a day’s journey on every trail was built a trail lodge, where travelers might find shelter, and so on for many days’ journeys were built trail lodges. At the end of the first day’s journey the twelve brothers came to the trail house and halted to prepare their evening meal. One of the men shot a deer and was dressing it when the oldest brother, the chief of the party, ordered the youngest to run to the spring after water. Grasping a bark bowl he obeyed and ran down the path to the spring and was bending over the water to dip, when he saw reflected in the ruddy sun-painted water the form of a warrior whose face was painted on one side red and on the other black. He gazed at the vision terrified by its import and then dropping his bowl rushed up the path and stammered out his frightful discovery. He had seen Hadiiusgowa, the warrior whom they had buried but the morning of that day. The chief looked at his young brother in amazement and then, dropping the deer ham that he was preparing, burst out into a loud derisive laugh. “If you are afraid of visions of dead men,” he laughed, “how can I depend on you when live ones appear?” But the boy would not be laughed out of believing the evidence of his own eyes and so the second brother was sent to the spring. When he reached the pool he looked across the river and to his indescribable horror saw the dead warrior standing on the opposite bank, his face wrinkled into a fiendish grin. Back to the lodge he sped trembling from cheek to feet. A chorus of laughter greeted his story and the chief angrily declared that his younger brothers were endeavoring to frighten the party by their impossible tales. Then the third brother was sent and soon returned and with stiffened lips said that he had seen the figure of Hadiiusgowa standing in the middle of the stream. The fourth brother saw him standing on the rocks close to the shore, and the fifth saw him on the pebbly edge, and the sixth on the river’s bank, the seventh half way to the spring, the eighth at the spring, the ninth advancing toward the trail, the tenth on the trail, the eleventh half way to the trail lodge, and then the chief, who had now ceased to scoff, when he looked up saw Hadiiusgowa in the clearing before the lodge. Hastily he commanded that all should enter the lodge, the youngest first and the rest according to their ages. When all had done so he fastened the door and lay down across the doorway. All except the two youngest suddenly became overcome with a stupor and fell into a deep sleep. The two youngest lay awake and listened to the efforts of the ghostly warrior to effect an entrance. Suddenly the door burst inward and with a yell the tchisga (ghost) swooped down upon the chief and scalping him brandished the scalp aloft and screeching, “Gowe! Gowe! Hadiiusgowa!” Jumping into the air he yelled a death cry and sped from sight, his cry growing fainter and fainter as he went. Returning shortly afterwards he scalped the next brother, returning at an interval to scalp one after another of the party. When the third oldest brother had been scalped and the tchisga had disappeared, his death cry echoing fainter and fainter as he sped further and further, the second youngest brother was overcome with a lethargy and fell into a deep sleep from which he never awoke, for the tchisga returned and killed him, as he had the ten others. The youngest then began to despair saying to himself, “I cannot escape even by running nor can I hide for Hadiiusgowa has power to discover me wherever I go, but even a tchisga may be deceived.” So saying he placed some bloody deer meat on his head and pulled his bear skin cap tightly over his brow. Wrapping his blanket around his ears so as to leave no part of his body exposed he waited the coming of Hadiiusgowa. His skin at least was protected from the death touch of the tchisga and perhaps he would escape. Soon the wraith came screaming into the lodge crying, “I have slain eleven and now the twelfth shall go!” Grabbing a bunch of black hair that protruded from a robe of deer skin he haggled off a circular piece and with a demonic shriek flew into the air crying “Gowe! Gowe! Hadiiusgowa!”
The boy finding himself unhurt jumped to his feet with the exclamation, “I will follow the tchisga and outwit him yet!” So he ran out into the darkness.
The ghost soon discovered his error and the boy could hear his cries of rage in the distance. He approached rapidly screaming, “You cannot escape me, you cannot hide from me!” Each yell stole the strength from the muscles of the frightened boy who soon sank in dispair to the ground. The tchisga was coming and there seemed no escape. Feebly lifting his head the boy saw a hollow elm log and in a dazed way remembered that he had heard of hollow logs. Mustering all his strength he crawled in the log and none too soon for just as he had stowed himself within the protecting log the ghost struck it with the cry, “Now I have you!”
It is strange, but a ghost never can enter the space within a hollow log. Thus the tchisga cut a sharp stick which he thrust in the hole at one end hoping to spear the boy. But his victim was not an easy one for he caught the thrusts deftly and turned them aside. Finally realizing that he could not harm the boy in this manner he yelled, “I know where you sit and will kill you yet!” Then he commenced to chop a hole into the log where he judged his victim to be but when it had been made the boy had moved further in and escaped the thrusts of the spear. Another hole was made but all the prodding that the tchisga made had no effect upon the elusive boy. A third trial had no better result and finally the tchisga screamed, “The next hole will bring me success,—I cannot fail!” Then he fell to whacking the log until the raining blows sounded like the beating of a death drum. The hole was completed and the dispairing boy found that there were so many openings that he could not hope to escape. The tchisga prepared to grasp his victim and was on the point of uttering a yell of triumph when a little bird on a branch above began to twitter and the yell of victory turned to a groan of dispair. “Fortunate for you,” he cried, “but woe to me!” Then he faded into the glow of the morning when ghosts cease their black works.
The boy was highly elated at his good fortune but lost no time in dancing over the matter. Instead he jumped to his feet and ran with all his speed to the village crying as he went, “Gowe, gowe!” His shrill cry awoke the villagers who hastened to the long house to listen to the distress news that someone was bringing. Dashing into the council the boy related his story and when he had finished the village sachem arose and said, “If this boy’s tale is true we are all threatened with the ghostly warrior. Now we know why arrows never killed him,—he was a wizard. We must kill him before he kills us. We must burn his body. First then let four swift runners go to the first day trail house and see if conditions are as reported and in the meantime we will prepare to kill the ghost.” The warriors hurried to obey instructions and after the runners had departed a company built a little cabin from large logs over the grave of the wizard and others gathered piles of logs for fuel. It was toward sunset when the runners returned and reported that things were just as the youngest brother had told. The grave was then dug into and a foot below the surface a sharpened pole was discovered and to it were fastened eleven scalps still bleeding and a small circle of bear skin. Below this was found the body of the witch-warrior steaming with sweat, his face and hands slimy with blood and his weapon still dripping red. The boy’s words were confirmed. A warrior lifted the terrible form from the bark upon which it rested and brought it into the cabin. The head sachem then addressed it. “You were a great warrior in life,” he said, “and we know that we never appreciated you. We now wish to make a great ceremony and have made a lodge for you where all may see you. So stay here and let us honor you.” So saying the chief backed out of the cabin and fastened the door. Heavy logs were piled over the structure and then a fire ignited that soon enveloped the whole mass. The flames soon ate their way into the burial lodge and filled it with a mass of burning coals. Logs were piled on higher and higher in order that they might press down the witch and give him no chance to escape. Suddenly a voice from the blazing coals sounded forth. With one long drawn wild scream it said, “I will kill you all, I am escaping despite you.” But a log falling pinned down the wizard who fell into his grave pit now white with heat. His head burst and when the steam was cleared away a screech owl was seen flying up from it. The warriors made a frantic effort to kill it but the intense heat prevented them and so it soared away into the night screaming defiance at its pursuers.
In this manner was the wizard-warrior killed but his spirit still hovers over the land and wherever the screech owl lingers there is the evil spirit brooding mischief.
GENERAL NOTES.—In this legend we have several interesting ethnological allusions. We are told of “trail houses,” which were erected at intervals along the trails throughout the Iroquois country, and in which food and other necessities were left by travelers who had used the shelter. Inquiry brought out the fact that these public hospices were common in the old days and were frequently built in response to dreams. We are also given a glimpse of the burial rites of warriors, and told that the corpse was properly painted and then doubled up in its grave. We are again given an account of the magical qualities of a hollow log, which a ghost cannot enter. Here, also, we are told that a wizard’s head when burned bursts and sends forth screech-owls,—birds of ill omen to the red man as to us of today.
35. The Cannibal and His Nephew
De’o´niot was Oñgwe Iās, a man-eater. He had developed his man-flesh appetite early in his childhood because his mother had associated with witches. He lived in a hidden place far away from other human habitations. The only human creature who came near him and was not eaten was his nephew who lived on the other side of the partition that divided his long bark house. The cannibal was fond of his nephew and did not wish to come into close contact with him, lest his appetite for flesh become too strong a temptation and leave him without a companion. Thus it was he divided his house and satisfied himself with the sound of the youth’s voice, for each hunted their game separately and rarely saw each other.
One day as the nephew was sitting on his doorstep, he saw a beautiful woman approaching. She advanced and sat down by his side.
“I would like to marry you,” she said after a moment’s pause.
“I would like to marry you also,” was the answer, and then he added, “but you would not be my wife long because my uncle would eat you.”
“Oh then you had better watch that he does not eat you. If he does not I am satisfied he will not take me,” replied the woman.
“Well, if you are determined after what I have told you, I cannot say further but take you.” Leading her into the lodge he continued, “My uncle will call from his room for someone to bring him my bow or axe with which to slay some animal. Do not answer him but keep very silent and do not venture from the lodge to satisfy his wants. Obey my instructions for I am going on a hunting journey.”
Empty handed and hungry De’o´niot returned from his hunting excursion. Going into his apartment he flung himself upon the floor to rest, then starting up, he called, “Hurry, bring me my hatchet, Oh quick, I need it immediately to kill this beast!”
Forgetting all that her husband had told her the bride picked up a hatchet and a bow and ran around the lodge to the opposite door.
When the nephew returned he found his wife missing. The only trace of her was her skirt that lay on the floor.
“Ho!” he exclaimed, “De’o´niot has feasted on my woman and thrown her skirt to me as a reminder.” Then calling to his uncle he asked, “Oh uncle, how did you discover my woman?”
“Because I knew that it was not your breathing but a breath much faster that I heard over the partition,” was the reply.
The next day another woman came with a proposal of marriage. At first refusing her, and then accepting her on the condition that she would quietly remain in his room and heed not the entreaties of De’o´niot, he married her, but when he returned from his hunting, she, like the first, had formed the repast of his uncle, who as before flung her dress over the partition. In like manner another wife came and was eaten.
Finally a married woman came weeping through the woods and begged De’o´niot to protect her.
“Protect you!” the man-eater roared, “O ho! I would be more apt to eat you. That is my business,—eating people!”
“Oh protect me!” pleaded the woman, “for my husband is a ferocious giant and is now pursuing me!”
“So truly if that is the case you had better go into my nephew’s room where I cannot reach you and stay there while I watch for that man of yours.”
Presently in the distance De’o´niot saw a giant striding through the underbrush.
“Ho, ho!” he exclaimed to himself, “That woman is the first one I ever saw and liked, so I am truly glad to do her a service in destroying her man-giant.”
With a whoop the giant pounced upon De’o´niot. “Where is my wife?” he bellowed.
De’o´niot did not answer but grasped the giant’s throat and after a frightful struggle twisted his neck.
“I am greatly obliged to you,” he called to the woman. “Such an amount of flesh will keep me from hunger for many days.”
When the nephew returned he found the new wife awaiting him and after some questioning he accepted her.
“That is right!” called the uncle over the partition, “don’t worry, she is a good woman. I will not eat her.”
“Wife,” he said, “I believe that we must depart from these regions for I fear that my uncle will become so hungry that he will forget his love for us.”
Soon afterward the uncle from his chamber shouted:
“Oh my children, do not leave. You fear my appetite but I promise you that I will never harm you.”
The nephew (however), would not believe these promises, but thought his uncle only shaming. In order to discuss the matter further he awoke his wife in the middle of the night and in whispers talked with her, how best to escape.
“Boy, you are going away tomorrow!” exclaimed a voice from over the partition.
“No, no, uncle,” answered the nephew. “Go to sleep and do not dream such things.”
“Ah, you cannot deceive De’o´niot,” replied the uncle. “I know you are going away tomorrow and when you go, go west, for you have relatives there. If ever danger threatens call my name and I will be on hand to save you. Distance does not stop my promise. Call me anywhere and I will come.”
At dawn the next day the couple drank from the spring that filled a basin on one side of the room and ran out of the other. Then, packing up a bundle of food, they turned their backs on the morning and journeyed to the west.
At nightfall they saw in the distance a stream of water that reflected the light of the moon in a most peculiar way, and coming up to it they found that its strange gleam resulted from its frozen surface. The creek did not appear wide and the couple decided that it could be jumped easily. Running back a short distance each dashed forward and attempted to leap across, but great was their surprise and chagrin when they landed on the ice in the middle of the stream, and greater was their dismay when they began to slide forward. The creek ran down a steep incline and with great rapidity the two slipped downward over its surface into the uncertain light. In a moment, however, they saw that they were headed directly for a great lodge into which the stream flowed. In desperation they clutched at the ice and endeavored to hold back but vain was their effort, and in a few moments they had plunged into the lodge and into the midst of a dozen howling warriors armed with war clubs.
Surrounding them, the warriors began to brandish their clubs. Death seemed certain. The couple trembled and believed that death has surely come. Suddenly the wife started boldly up and shouted:
“De’o´niot, hagesa!” she cried.
The warriors fell back with cries of dismay at the sound of the magical name.
In the distance came a signal call, then came a song. It was the battle song of De’o´niot. The warriors huddled in the corners of the lodge quaking with fear. The words of the song became distinct as De’o´niot drew nearer.
The couple looked out and saw the man-eater sliding down the incline holding in his arms a kettle, a bowl and a spoon.
“I will stay here with my meat,” he shouted as he burst into the lodge. “You had better go on to the village. Your parents and people are there. Now leave me here and go on.”
The two gladly hurried from the house and toward morning came to a village when both found friends and relatives.
After the nephew and his wife had lived in their new home for a year, one by one the children of the settlement began mysteriously to disappear.
“My uncle surely must be in this vicinity,” reflected the nephew, “I will go on a hunt for him.”
So the nephew started out and after a time of journeying saw De’o´niot leaning over the bank of a creek groaning in agony.
“Oh uncle!” exclaimed the nephew, “what troubles you?”
“Oh nephew,” came the groaning reply, “I have eaten many children and am very sick. My belly is hurt with pain as if by claws clutching inside.”
“Cheer up uncle, I can cure you. Only obey my instructions.”
The nephew made a soup of fish bones and skins and fed it to his uncle. He continued this treatment for three days, until De’o´niot had disgorged. By this time he was ravenous and begged for food and new clothing, for his old rags were very foul. The nephew bade him strip and plunge in the water and bathe himself. Then, after giving him some new clothing he fed him on a little corn pudding, gradually increasing the allowance at each meal and each time moving the camp nearer the village.
“You must now learn to cook, uncle,” said the nephew, “then you will forget your unnatural appetite. God made men above all creatures, uncle, and gave them great skill. Men are not made to devour one another, or for beasts to devour, but beasts are food for men. So now, promise never to touch the meat of mankind again.”
“Aye, never more will I eat of human flesh or the raw flesh of any creature but only fruits and roots and cooked meat!”
So the nephew brought him into the village and introduced him as his uncle from afar. And the uncle grew so fond of this nephew’s wife’s cooking that he married a woman to have a cook for himself.
36. A Youth’s Double Abuses His Sister
There was a lodge in the forest where very few people ever came, and there dwelt a young man and his sister. The youth was unlike other persons for one half of his head had hair of a reddish cast, while the other side was black.
He used to leave his sister in the lodge and go away on long hunting trips. On one occasion the young woman, his sister, saw, so she thought, her brother coming down the path to the lodge. “I thought you just went away to hunt,” said the sister. “Oh, I thought I would come back,” said he.
Then he sat down on the bed with the sister and embraced her and acted as a lover. The sister reproached him and said that she was very angry. But again he endeavored to fondle her in a familiar way, but again was repulsed. This time he went away.
The next day the brother returned and found his sister very angry. She would scarcely speak to him, though hitherto she had talked a great deal.
“My sister,” said he. “I am at loss to know why you treat me thus. It is not your custom.”
“Oh you ought to know that you have abused me,” said the girl.
“I never abused you. What are you talking about?” he said.
“Oh you know that you embraced me in an improper way yesterday,” said the sister.
“I was not here yesterday,” asserted the youth. “I believe that my friend who resembles me in every respect has been here.”
“You have given a poor excuse,” replied his sister. “I hope your actions will not continue.”
Soon the brother went away again, stating that he would be absent three days. In a short time the sister saw, as she thought, a figure looking like her brother skulking in the underbrush. His shirt and leggings were the same as her brother’s and his hair was the same. So then she knew that her brother had returned for mischief. Soon he entered the lodge and embraced her, and this time in anger she tore his cheeks with her nails and sent him away.
In three days the brother returned with a deer, but his sister would not speak to him. Said he, “My sister, I perceive that you are angry at me. Has my friend been here?”
It was some time before the sister replied, and then she wept, saying, “My brother, you have abused me and I scratched your face. I perceive that it is still torn by my finger nails.”
“Oh, my face,” laughed the brother. “My face was torn by thorns as I hunted deer. If you scratched my friend that is the reason I am scratched. Whatever happens to either one of us happens to the other.” But the sister would not believe this.
Again the brother went on a hunting trip, and again the familiar figure returned. This time the sister tore his hunting shirt from the throat down to the waist line. Moreover she threw a ladle of hot bear grease on the shirt. This caused his quick departure.
Returning in due time the brother brought in his game and threw it down. Again the sister was angry and finally accused him. Pointing to his grease-smeared torn shirt she said that this was evidence enough.
“Oh my sister,” explained the brother. “I tore my shirt on a broken limb as I climbed a tree after a raccoon. In making soup from bear meat I spilled it on my shirt.” Still the sister refused to believe him.
“Oh my sister,” said the brother, in distressed tones. “I am greatly saddened to think you will not believe me. My friend looks exactly as I do, and whatever happens to him happens to me. I shall now be compelled to find my friend and bring him to you and when I do I shall be compelled to kill him before you for his evil designs upon you. If you would believe me nothing evil would befall us, but I now think I myself shall die.”
The sister said nothing for she would not believe her brother.
The brother now began to pile up dried meat and to repair the lodge. He then went out into the forest without his bow and arrows, and in a short time returned with another man exactly resembling him, and whose clothing was spotted and torn in a similar way. Leading him to the lodge fire he began to scold him in an angry manner. “You have betrayed me and abused my sister,” he said. “Now is the time for you to die.” Taking out an arrow from a quiver he cast it into the heart of his double and killed him. The sister saw her assailant fall to the floor, and then looked up as she heard her brother give a war cry and fall as dead with blood streaming from a wound in his chest over his heart.
37. Murdered Double Speaks Through Fire
(Second Part of a Youth’s Double.)
After lying as dead for a time the youth’s inherent magic began to bring about a restoration of life. Soon he sat up and looked at his sister. Then he spoke.
“Oh my sister,” he said. “The mother of my friend will shortly come for him, believing him married to you. We must dispose of my friend’s body and when the woman comes we must act as if we were husband and wife.”
The youth now removed the stones of the fireplace and dug a deep hole beneath. In this he buried the body of his slain friend, smoothed the earth and restored the ring of stones. He now rekindled the fire, and all trace of the murder was wiped away.
After a while footsteps were heard and the door was flung back. A witch woman looked into the lodge, and seeing someone that resembled her son standing closely to a young woman, the witch said, “I now perceive that I have a daughter-in-law.”
Thereupon the fire began to flicker and a voice came clearly from it, saying, “My friend has killed me, my friend has killed me.”
“Wu‘!” exclaimed the witch mother, “What words is your fire speaking?”
“Oh, my mother, pay no attention to the fire,” said the youth. “The fire thus speaks because I scrape the blood from my arrows into it.” So saying he scraped an arrow into the fire and it spoke as before, “My friend has killed me.”
The witch was disturbed and requested her pretended son to return to his maternal lodge bringing his wife with him. The youth now told his sister that the simulation of married life must be above suspicion, and then together all three went to the lodge of the witch.
As they sat down the pet owl of the lodge began to hoot. “The stranger has taken to wife his younger sister.” The old woman looked up and asked what the meaning of this omen might be, whereupon the youth answered, “It is because you have not fed the owl. I now give it meat.” The owl was then satisfied and continued to speak its accustomed notes.
That night the youth slept with his sister. As he entered the sleeping apartment the owl screamed as before, “It is not this one; this one takes to wife his younger sister.”
The youth called out, “Give no heed to this owl, he is hungry,” and he flung it more meat. Nevertheless the witch woman was suspicious and resolved to watch the couple.
During the night she spied through the curtain covering the bed, but the boy and his sister were simulating sleep, though arranged in an affectionate attitude. The old witch then placed her hand in the bed and under the covers, touching the couple, and she was then satisfied that the two were married.
Early in the morning the youth whispered to his sister that they must make their escape or the witch would discover the truth and kill them. Together the two went out of the lodge and the youth taking out his medicine pouch thrust his hand into it and took out a small dog which he tapped with a red rod. The dog grew in size with every tap until it was large enough to carry a human being. Placing his sister on the dog, the youth said, “Go forward and let nothing turn you aside. The dog will carry you to the lodge where is our refuge.”
The dog ran forward but after a long tedious journey the sister dismounted to rest, and seeing a pretty bird fluttering just before her, began to chase it. It finally flew out of sight and when she returned to find the dog it had disappeared. She then remembered her brother’s warning and stumbled forward hoping to find relief.
Meanwhile the brother ran on to the refuge but when he reached the lodge he found that his sister had not come. Some one was coming, however, for he heard footsteps. He looked and saw the witch approaching. “Where is she?” cried the witch, “Where is my daughter-in-law?” The youth was perplexed, but answered, “She is coming, you must have passed them.”
“I cannot rest,” said the witch, “for your pet owls continually say, ‘It is another and she is his sister.’”
The youth now perceived that he must escape the witch and so he asked her where she was going. “To your lodge,” she called as she sped onward over the trail.
The youth hurried forward over a shorter trail and reached the lodge before the witch. “Where is my daughter-in-law?” yelled the old woman as she entered the lodge.
“She has returned to the other lodge,” answered the youth.
“It is another one,” sang the fireplace, and then added, “My friend has killed me and taken his younger sister to wife.”
“I must meet my wife,” said the youth as he hurried away. He knew that he must now make his escape.
The witch was now thoroughly suspicious and dug into the fireplace. Soon she discovered her son and saw that indeed he had been killed. Burying him in another place she ran to her own lodge and took her witch charms, invoking them to give her power. To make herself mighty she drank the oil of hickory nuts. To test her power she smote a hickory tree but her blows only loosened all the bark. Drinking more oil she struck the tree again, reducing it to splinters. Now feeling confident she transformed herself into a Niă’´gwahē and started in pursuit of the youth, crying, “You cannot escape me.”
When the youth found himself closely pressed he threw out a handful of pigeon feathers ordering them to become a monster flock of pigeons and to make the ground beneath them impassable. Immediately pigeons flew thickly in the air and covered the ground with an impassable slime in which the witch wallowed until exhausted, when she swooned. When she recovered the youth was far away and only a few pigeon feathers could be seen on the ground.
Again she caught sight of him and cried out as is the custom for the Niă’´gwahĕ beast, “You cannot escape me.” This time the youth cast a white stone in the path and commanded that it become an impassable cliff that stretched from ocean to ocean. Against this the witch batted her head until she swooned. Awakening she saw only a small quartz pebble and in anger arose again in pursuit, crying as she caught up to him, “You cannot escape me.”
The youth was now sorely pressed but in running along the trail he saw an old man. “I am your uncle,” said the old man. “Run onward to your mother’s lodge, and meanwhile I will protect you.” The youth ran on and the old uncle caused a vast field of sharpened posts to spring up, making a terrible barrier to the onrushing Niă’´gwahĕ.
The youth passed another old man who called out to him, “I am your uncle. Run onward to your mother’s lodge, and meanwhile I will protect you.” This was reassuring, for just then the witch came into view and cried, “You cannot escape me.” Then the witch monster ran directly into a net-like entanglement and with wild rage floundered about until it had freed itself.
Meanwhile the youth was speeding forward. Soon he saw a handsome lodge before him and into this he ran. There he found his sister and the dog, an older woman, a younger woman and another youth.
“Protect me,” cried the pursued youth looking at the inmates of the lodge. “Niă’´gwahē pursues me.”
“I am your mother, my son,” said the oldest woman. “I will save you from trouble.”
Taking up a pot of boiling bear’s oil she waited until the witch beast had thrust its head into the lodge when she threw the oil full in the creature’s face. It gave a great snort and fell down dead.
The mother came up to the youth, saying, “Here is your older brother and older sister. Your younger sister and your dog came here and found me. We are all now safe and are reunited, so now all is well and I am thankful.”
38. The Vampire Corpse39
An old man had a house far back in the woods, a long ways from any village. It stood in the midst of a good hunting ground. The old man always welcomed any hunting party and provided them with all the utensils necessary for curing their meats and tanning their pelts. It seemed however, that the place was haunted by an evil spirit that delighted to inflict those who tarried there with very bad dreams, and sometimes it killed them by sucking out their blood like a weasel.
One time, so it is said, a man and his wife and child went to this hunting ground and went to the lodge of Taiiani Gowa, the old man of the solitudes, to ask for shelter. Now when he called there was no answer and so he entered and found Taiiani Gowa dead in a bark coffin. This coffin had been prepared long before and Taiiani Gowa having a premonition of coming death had crawled in his box and died; so the man said.
Now it was nightfall and the man lay down beside his wife and baby to pass the night. Toward the hour of midnight the woman was awakened by a sound of gnawing,—cautiously she looked about and sliding out her hand on the floor felt a warm pool of blood. Quickly she realized what had occurred. The old man was dead but his evil spirit was making him conform to its vampire appetite. It was chewing off the face of her husband. But she did not scream, instead she said carefully, “Husband, our child wishes water, you are too sleepy to care for her while I go for some, so I will take her with me, give her a drink and soon return.” With these words she arose and went out carrying a bowl with her. She ran to the spring, dropped the bowl and then ran toward home as fast as her strength gave her ability for running. “Unless I hasten,” she thought, “the tcĭs´gä will overtake and devour me. I heard him go back to his coffin, but his hunger will soon return and he will come for us, and finding us missing, will pursue us. Oh my baby, we must hurry!”
An echo of a loud cry sounded through the silent forest and the woman caught the words, “She has deceived me!” Then she knew that the tcĭs´gä had started on her track. She heard him at the spring, so she used all her speed to escape him, but presently she heard a growling close behind her and heard him exclaim, “Ah you cannot escape me!” Unloosening her skirt she flung it on a swinging branch and hurrying on, hear the tcĭs´gä crying, “Ah now I have you!” Then he tore the garment into shreds and found out his mistake. So then he ran screaming on. When he had neared her again she threw her blanket upon a log and ran on. The tcĭs´gä stopped and whooped because he was very angry. Then he chewed up the blanket but finding no blood rushed on after his victim, only to be delayed again and again by the same trick. After a time she had stripped herself and her baby of all their clothing and she was nearly exhausted, with the tcĭs´gä close upon her; then she heard the sound of drumming across a little valley and crying “Gowen‘” she ran on. The sentinel outside the long house heard her cry and gathering a number of warriors about him, ran at full speed toward the cry of distress. Each warrior bore a flaming torch the lights of which confused the pursuing tcĭs´gä and gave hope to the woman. Throwing their robes about her the warriors carried her to the long house where after reviving her from her faint, they heard her story. Then said the chief, “If her story is true we must keep the lights burning and dance till morning for the tcĭs´gä may return and kill us all; on the morrow we will send a party to examine the lodge of Taiiani Gowa and find out what the trouble is.” So the dance continued all night and in the morning a party headed by the chief went to the lodge of Taiiani Gowa and found the dead man in his coffin and the husband with his face chewed clean to the skull. Then the chief stepped to the side of the coffin and said, “We have come to make a great ceremony. We will bind up your box and then have our ceremony.” The warriors bound up the coffin with their strongest ropes and piled it high with brush and logs. Then a torch was applied and the coffin was surrounded by flames. The old man could not escape although he threatened terrible results for he could not pass outside of the flames. So his head burst and a white rabbit ran forth into the underbrush, eluding all the arrows of the warriors and escaping. Then did the people prove that Tiaiiani Gowa was a wizard and discover the form of his evil spirit. Likewise they knew why his guests became sick. He was a bad spirit.