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Full text of "Annual report of the Bureau of American Ethnology to the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution"

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THIRTY-SECOND ANNUAL REPORT 



OF THE 



BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 



TO THE 



SECRETARY OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION 



1910-1911 




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GOVERNMENT PRINTING OPFIOE 

1918 



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LETTEE OF TRANSMITTAL 



Smithsonian Institution, 
Bureau of American Ethnology, 
Washington, D. C, August 17, ]91 1. 
Sir: I have the honor to submit herewith the Thirty- 
second Annual Report of the Bureau of American Eth- 
nology, comprising an account of the operations of the 
bureau during the fiscal year ended June 30, 1911. 

Permit me to express my appreciation of your aid in the 
work under my charge. 

Very respectfully, yours, 

F. W. Hodge, 
Ethnologist-in-Charge. 
Dr. Charles D. Walcott, 

Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. 



OOKTENTS 



REPORT OF THE ETHNOLOGIST-IN-CHARGE 

Page 

Systematic researches 9 

Special researclies 24 

Publications -9 

Illustrations 30 

Library 31 

Proi>erty 32 

Recomniendnticiiis 32 

ACCOMFANYING PAPlilt 

Seneca Fiction, Legends, and Mytbs; collected by Jeremiah Curtin and 

J. N. B. Hewitt; edited by J. N. B. Hewitt 37 

Index 815 

5 



REPORT OF THE ETHNOLOGIST- IN -CHARGE 



THIRTY-SECOA'D ANNUAL REPORT 

OF THE 

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 



F. W. Hodge, Ethnologist-in-Charge 



The operations of the Bureau of American Ethnology- 
for the tiscal year ended Jime 30, 1911, conducted in 
accordance with the provisions of the act of Congress ap- 
proved June 25, 1910, authorizing the continuation of eth- 
nological researches among the American Indians and the 
natives of Hawaii, under the direction of the Smithsonian 
Institution, were carried forward in accordance with the 
plan of operation approved by the Secretary June 15, 1910. 

SYSTEMATIC RESEARCHES 

The systematic ethnological researches of the bureau 
were continued during the year with the regular scientific 
staff, consisting of nine ethnologists, as follows : Mr. F. W. 
Hodge, ethnologist-in-charge ; Mr. James Mooney, Dr. J. 
Walter Fewkes, Mrs. Matilda Coxe Stevenson, Mr. J. N. B. 
Hewitt, Dr. John R. Swanton, Dr. Truman Michelson, 
Dr. Paul Radin, and Mr. Francis La Flesche. In addition, 
the services of several specialists in their respective fields 
were enlisted for special work, as follows : 

Dr. Franz Boas, honorary philologist, with several as- 
sistants, for research in connection with the preparation 
and publication of the Handbook of American Indian 
Languages. 

Miss Alice C. Fletcher and Mr. Francis La Flesche, for 
the final revision of the proofs of their monograph on the 

9 



10 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

Omaha Indians for publication in the Twenty-seventh 
Annual Report. 

Miss Frances Densmore, for researches in Indian music. 

Mr. J. P. Dunn, for studies of the tribes of the Middle 
West. 

Mr. John P. Harrington, for researches among the 
Mohave Indians of the Colorado Valley. 

Rev. Dr. George P. Donehoo, for investigations in the 
history, geography, and ethnology of the tribes of Penn- 
sylvania for incorporation in the Handbook of American 
Indians. 

Mr. William R. Gerard, for studies of the etymology of 
Algonquian place and tribal names and of tenns that have 
been incorporated in the English language, for use in the 
same work. 

Prof. H. M. Ballou, for bibliographic research in con- 
nection with the compilation of the List of Works Relat- 
ing to Hawaii, 

Mr. James R. Murie, for researches pertaining to the 
ethnology of the Pawnee Indians. 

The systematic ethnological researches by members of 
the regular staff of the bureau may be sunmiarized as 
follows : 

Mr. F. W. Hodge, ethnologist-in-charge, in addition to 
conducting the administrative work of the bureau, devoted 
attention, with the assistance of Mrs. Frances S. Nichols, 
to the final revision of the remaining proofs of part 2 of 
the Handbook of American Indians (Bulletin 30), wliieh 
was published in January, 1911. This work met with so 
great popular demand that the edition of the two parts 
became exhausted immediately after publication, causing 
the bureau much embarrassment owing to the thousands of 
requests that it has not been possible to supply. To meet 
this need in part, the Senate, on May 12, adopted a concur- 
rent resolution authorizing the reprinting of the entire 
handbook, and at the close of the fiscal year the resolution 
was under consideration by the Coimnittee on Printing of 
the House of Representatives. The Superintendent of 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 11 

Documents has likewise been in receipt of many orders 
for the woi-k, necessitating the reprinting of part 1 some 
months after its appearance, and about the close of the 
fiscal year another reprint of this part was contemplated. 
Much material for incorporation in a revised edition for 
future publication was prepared during the year, but lack 
of funds necessary for the employment of special assistants 
prevented the prosecution of this work as fully as was 
desired. 

The bureau has been interested in and has conducted 
archeological exj^lorations in the jDueblo region of New 
Mexico and Arizona for many years. Since the establish- 
ment of the School of American Archaeology in 1907, fol- 
lowing the revival of interest in American archeology, by 
the Archaeological Institute of America, that body likewise 
commenced systematic work in the archeology of that great 
region. In order to avoid duplication of effort, arrange- 
ments were made between the bureau and the school for 
conducting archeological investigations in cooperation, the 
expense of the field work to be borne equally, a moiety of 
the collections of the artifacts and all the skeletal remains 
to become the property of the National Museum, and the 
bureau to have the privilege of the publication of all scien- 
tific results. 

Active work under this joint arrangement was com- 
menced in the Rito de los Frijoles, northwest of Santa 
Fe, New Mexico, in July, 1910, work having already been 
initiated there during the previous summer by the school 
independently, under the directorship of Dr. Edgar L. 
Hewett. In August, 1910, Mr. Hodge visited New Mexico 
for the purpose of participating in the work on the part of 
the bureau, and remained in the field for a month. 

The great prehistoric site in the Rito de los Frijoles is 
characterized by an immense circular many-celled pueblo 
ruin, most of the stone walls of which are still standing to 
a height of several feet, and a series of cavate dwellings 
hewn in the soft tufa throughout several hundred yards of 
the northern wall of the canyon. Accompanying the great 



12 ■ BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

commvinity ruin and also the cavate dwellings are under- 
ground kivas, or ceremonial chambers. In front of the 
cavate lodges were originally structures of masonry built 
against the cliff and forming front rooms, but practically 
the only remains of these are the foundation walls and the 
rafter holes in the cliff face. The debris covering these 
structures has been largely cleared away and the founda- 
tions exposed, and the walls of about two-thirds of the great 
pueblo structure in the valley have been bared by excava- 
tion. At the western extremity of the canyon, far up in 
the northern wall, is a natui-al cavern, known as Ceremo- 
nial Cave, in which are a large kiva, remarkably well pre- 
served, and other interesting remains of aboriginal occu- 
pancy. This great archeological site in the Rito de los 
Frijoles is important to the elucidation of the problem of 
the early distribution of the Pueblos of the Rio Grande 
Valley, and there is reason to believe that when the re- 
searches are completed much light will be shed thereon. 
There is a paucity of artifacts in the habitations uncovered, 
aside from stone implements, of which large numbers have 
been found. 

At the close of the work in the Rito de los Frijoles the 
joint expedition proceeded to the valley of the Jemez 
River, near the Hot Springs, where a week was spent in 
excavating the cemetery of the old Jemez village of 
Giusiwa. About 3.0 burials were disinterred here, and a 
few accompaniments of pottery vessels and other artifacts 
were recovered ; but in the main the deposits had been com- 
pletely destroyed b}'^ aboriginal disturbance, caused in part 
by covering the burials with heavy stones and partly by 
displacing the skeletons previously buried when subse- 
quent interments were made. Giusiwa was inhabited in 
prehistoric times and also well within the historical period, 
as is attested by its massive, roofless church, built about 
the beginning of the seventeenth century. Nevertheless, 
no indication of Spanish influence was found in the ancient 
cemetery, and it is assumed that bvirial therein ceased with 
the coming of the missionaries and the establishment of 



ADMINISTKATIVE EEPOBT 13 

the campo santo adjacent to the church. All collections 
gathered at Giusiwa have been deposited in the National 
Museum. 

Other immense ruins on the summits of the mesas bound- 
ing the valley on the west were examined with the view 
of their future excavation. The exact position of the 
Jemez tribe among the Pueblo peoples is a problem, and 
both archeological and ethnological studies thereof are 
essential to its determination. 

On completing this reconnoissance excavation was con- 
ducted in a cemetery at the great stone pueblo of Puye, on 
a mesa 8 miles west of the Tewa village of Santa Clara. 
About 50 burials were exhumed and sent to the National 
Museum, but artifacts were not found in abundance here, 
and as a rule they are not excellent in quality. In the 
joint work in the Rito de los Frijoles the expedition was 
foi'tunate in having the cooperation of Prof. Junius Hen- 
derson and Prof. W. W. Robbins, of the University of 
Colorado at Boulder, who, respectively, while the excava- 
tions were in progress, conducted studies in the ethno- 
zoology and the ethnobotany of the Tewa Indians, and 
also on the influence of climate and geology on the life of 
the early inhabitants of the Rito de los Frijoles. At the 
same time Mr. J. P. Harrington continued his researches 
in Tewa geographic nomenclature and cooperated with 
Professors Henderson and Robbins in supplying the native 
terms for plants and animals used by these Indians as 
food and medicine in ceremonies and for other purposes. 
The expedition was also fortunate in having the services 
of Mr. Sylvanus G. Morley in connection with the excava- 
tions in the Rito, of Mr. K. M. Chapman in the study of 
the decoration of the pottery and of the pictographs of 
the entire upper Rio Grande region, of Mr. Jesse L. Nus- 
baum in the photographic work, and of Mr. J. P. Adams 
in the surveying. Valued aid was also rendered by INlessrs. 
Neil M. Judd, Donald Beauregard, and Nathan Goldsmith. 

The scientific results of the joint research are rapidly 
nearing completion and Mdll be submitted to the bureau for 
publication at an early date. 



14 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

Throughout almost the entire year Mr. James Mooney, 
ethnologist, was oc^cupied in the office in compiling the 
material for his study of Indian population covering the 
whole territory north of Mexico from the first white occu- 
pancy to the present time. By request of the Nebraska 
State Historical Society he was detailed in January, 1911, 
to attend the joint session of that body and the Mississippi 
Valley Historical Association, at Lincoln, Nebraska, where 
he delivered three principal addresses bearing particularly 
on the method and results of the researches of the bureau 
with the view of their application in local historical and 
ethnological investigations. 

On June 4 Mr. Mooney started for the reservation of 
the East Cherokee in North Carolina to continue former 
studies of the sacred formulas and general ethnology of 
that tribe, and was engaged in this work at the close of the 
month. 

At the beginning of the fiscal year Dr. J. Walter Fewkes, 
ethnologist, was in northern Arizona examining the great 
cave pueblos and other ruins within the Navaho National 
Monument. He found that since his visit in 1909 consider- 
able excavation had been done by others in the rooms of 
Betatakin, and that the walls of Kitsiel, the other large 
cliff-ruin, were greatly in need of repair. Guided by resi- 
dent Navaho, he visited several hitherto imdescribed cliff- 
dwellings and gathered a fairly good collection of objects 
illustrating prehistoric culture of this part of northern 
Arizona, which have been deposited in the National Mu- 
seum. In order to facilitate the archeological work and to 
make the region accessible to students and visitors it was 
necessary to break a wagon road from Marsh Pass through 
the middle of the Navaho National Monument to the neigh- 
borhood of Betatakin, and by this means the valley was 
traversed with wagons for the first time. 

On the return journey to Flagstaff, Doctor Fewkes vis- 
ited the ruins in Nitsi, or AA^est Canyon, and examined 
Inscription House, a prehistoric cliff-dwelling of consider- 
able size, hitherto undescribed, the walls of which are built 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 15 

of loaf-shaped adobes strengthened with sticks. On ac- 
count of the size and great interest of these ruins, it is 
recommended that the area covered thereby be inchided in 
the Navaho National Monument and the ruins permanently- 
preserved, and that either Betatakin or Kitsiel be exca- 
vated, repaired, and made a " type ruin " of this culture 
area. Along the road to Flagstaff from West Canyon, 
Doctor Fewkes observed several ruins and learned of many 
others ascribed to the ancient Hopi. He visited the Hopi 
pueblo of Moenkopi, near Tuba, and obtained considerable 
new ethnological material from an old priest of that village 
regarding legends of the clans that formerly lived in north- 
ern Arizona. He learned also of a cliff, or rock, covered 
with pictographs of Hopi origin, at Willow Spring, not far 
from Tuba, the figures of which shed light on Hopi clan 
migration legends. 

Returning to Flagstaff, Doctor Fewkes reoutfitted in 
order to conduct investigations of the ruins near Black 
Falls of the Little Colorado River, especially the one called 
Wukoki, reputed to have been the last habitation of the 
Snake clans of the Hopi in their stubborn migration before 
they finally settled near the East Mesa. A little more than 
a month was spent at these ruins, during which time ex- 
tensive excavations were made in numerous subterranean 
rooms, or pit- dwellings, a new type of habitations found 
at the bases of many of the large ruined pueblos on the 
Little Colorado. Incidentally several other pueblo ruins, 
hitherto unknown, with accompanying reservoirs and 
shrines, were observed. The excavations at Wukold 
yielded about 1,800 specimens, consisting of painted pot- 
tery, beautiful shell ornaments, stone implements, bas- 
ketry, wooden objects, cane " cloud blowers," prayer 
sticks, a prayer-stick box, an idol, and other objects. The 
results of the excavations at Wukoki will be incorporated 
in a forthcoming bulletin on Antiquities of the Little Colo- 
rado Basin. 

On the completion of his work at the Black Falls ruins. 
Doctor Fewkes returned to Washington in September and 



16 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

devoted the next three months to the preparation of a 
monograph on Casa Grande, Arizona. 

At the close of January, 1911, IJoctor Fewkes again took 
the field, visiting Cuba for the purpose of gathering in- 
formation on the prehistoric inhabitants of that island 
and their reputed contemporaneity with fossil sloths, 
sharks, and crocodiles. A fortnight was devoted to the 
study of collections of prehistoric objects in Habana, espe- 
cially the material in the University Museum from caves 
in Puerto Principe Province, described by Doctors Mon- 
tone and Carlos de la Torre. With this preparation he 
proceeded to the Isle of Pines and coimnenced work near 
Nueva Gerona. In this island there are several caves 
from which human bones have been reported locally, but 
the Cueva de los Indios, situated in the hills about a mile 
from the city named, promised the greatest reward. A 
week's excavation in this cave yielded four fragments of 
Indian skulls, not beyond repair; one i;ndeformed, well- 
preserved human cranium ; and many fragments of pelves, 
humeri, and femora. The excavations in the middle of 
the cave indicated that the soil there had previously been 
dug over; these yielded little of value, the best-preserved 
remains occurring near the entrance, on each side. The 
skulls were arranged in a row within a pocket sheltered 
by an overhanging side of the cave, and were buried about 
2 feet in the guano and soil; beneath these crania were 
human long-bones, crossed. • Several fragments of a single 
skull, or of several skulls, were embedded in a hard stalag- 
mitic formation over the deposit of long-bones. No Indian 
implements or pottery accompanied the bones, and no fos- 
sils were found in association with them. So far as 
recorded this is the first instance of the finding of skeletal 
remains of cave man in the Isle of Pines. Their general 
appearance and mode of burial were the same as in the case 
of those discovered by Doctors Montone and Carlos de la 
Torre. 

Doctor Fewkes also examined, in the Isle of Pines, aljout 
30 structures known as cacimbas, their Indian name. 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT ' 17 

These are vase-shaped, subterranean receptacles, averag- 
ing 6 feet in depth and 4 feet in maximum diameter, gen- 
erall}^ constricted to about 2 feet at the neck, and with the 
opening level with the surface of the ground. Although 
these cacimbas are generally ascribed to the Indians, they 
are thought by some to be of Spanish origin, and are con- 
nected by others with buccaneers, .pirates, and slavers. 
They are built of masonry or cut in the solid rock; the 
sides are often plastered and the bottoms commonly cov- 
ered with a layer of tar. On the ground near the openings 
there is generally a level, circular space, with raised pe- 
riphery. The whole appearance supports the theory that 
these structures were used in the manufacture of turpen- 
tine or tar, the circular area being the oven and the 
cacimba the receptacle for the product. 

Doctor Fewkes found that the Pineros, or natives of the 
island, employ many aboriginal terms for animals, plants, 
and places, and in some instances two Indian words are 
used for the same object. An acknowledged descendant 
of a Cuban Indian explained this linguistic duality by 
saying that the Indians of the eastern end of the Isle of 
Pines spoke a dialect different from those of the western 
end, and that when those from Camaguey, who were 
Tainan and of eastern Cuban origin, came to the Isle of 
Pines at the instance of the Spanish authorities they 
brought with them a nomenclature different from that 
then in use on that island. 

Several old Spanish structures of masonry, the dates of 
which are unknown, were also examined in the neighbor- 
hood of Santa Pe, Isle of Pines. The roof of a cave at 
Punta de Este, the southeastern angle of the island, bears 
aboriginal pictographs of the sun and other objects, sug- 
gesting that it is comparable with the cave in Haiti, in 
which, according to Indian legend, the sun and the moon 
originated, and from which the races of man emerged. 

Doctor Fewkes has now collected sufficient material in 
Cuba to indicate that its western end, including the Isle 
of Pines, was once inhabited by a cave-dwelling people, 

94615°— 18- — 2 



18 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

low in culture and without agriculture. His observations 
support the belief that this people were in that condition 
when Columbus visited the Isle of Pines and that they were 
survivors of the Guanahatibibes, a cave-dwelling popula- 
tion formerly occupying the whole of Cuba and represented 
in Porto Rico and other islands of the West Indies. 

Doctor Pewkes also visited several of the coral keys 
southwest of the Isle of Pines, but, finding no aboriginal 
traces, he crossed the channel to Cayman Grande, about 250 
miles from Nueva Gerona. The Cayman group consists 
of coral islands built on a submarine continuation of 
the mountains of Santiago Province, Cuba. A cave with 
Indian bones and pottery, jirobably of Carib origin, was 
found near Boddentown on the eastern end of the island, 
and a few stone implements were obtained from natives, 
but as these specimens may have been brought from adja- 
cent shores they afford little evidence of a former aborigi- 
nal population of Cayman Grande. The elevation of the 
Cayman Islands, computed from the annual accretion, 
would indicate that Cayman Grande was a shallow reef 
when Columbus visited Cuba, and could not have been in- 
habited at that time. The discoverer passed very near it 
on his second voyage, when his course lay from the Isle of 
Pines to Jamaica, but he reported neither name nor people. 

Doctor Fewkes returned to Washington in April and 
spent the remainder of the year in completing his report on 
Casa Grande. 

Dr. John R. Swanton, ethnologist, devoted the first quar- 
ter of the year chiefly to collecting' material from libraries 
and archives, as the basis of his study of the Creek Indians. 
From the latter part of September until early in December 
he was engaged in field research among the Creek, Natchez, 
Tonkawa, and Alibamu Indians in Oklahoma and Texas, 
and also remained a short time with the remnant of the 
Tunica and Chitimacha in Louisiana, and made a few side 
trips in search of tribes which have been lost to sight within 
recent years. On his return to Washington, Doctor Swan- 
ton transcribed the linguistic and ethnologic material col- 
lected during his field excursion, read the proofs of Bulle- 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 19 

tins 44, 46, and 47, added to the literary material regarding 
the Creek Indians, collected additional data for a tribal 
map of the Indians of the United States, and initiated a 
stud}^ of the Natchez language with the special object of 
comparing it with the other dialects of the Muskhogean 
family. Doctor Swanton also spent some time in studying 
the Chitiniacha and Tunica languages. 

From July, 1910, until the middle of April, 1911, Mrs. 
M. C. Stevenson, ethnologist, was engaged in the comple- 
tion of a paper on Dress and Adornment of the Pueblo 
Indians, in the elaboration of her report on Zuiii Plants 
and Their Uses, and in transcribing her field notes pertain- 
ing to Zuiii religious concepts and the mythology and eth- 
nology of the Taos Indians. 

Mrs. Stevenson left Washington on April 12 and pro- 
ceeded directly to the country of the Tewa Indians, in 
the valley of the Rio Grande in New Mexico, for the pur- 
pose of continuing her investigation of those people. Until 
the close of the fiscal year her energies were devoted to 
the pueblo of San Ildefonso and incidentally to Santa 
Clara, information particularly in regard to the Tewa cal- 
endar system, ceremonies, and material culture being 
gained. Mrs. Stevenson finds that the worship of the San 
Ildefonso Indians includes the same celestial bodies as are 
held sacred by the Zuni and other Pueblos. From the 
foundation laid during her previous researches among the 
Tewa, Mrs. Stevenson reports that she has experienced 
little difficulty in obtaining an insight into the esoteric life 
of these people, and is daily adding to her store of knowl- 
edge respecting their religion and sociolog,y. A complete 
record of obstetrical practices of the "Tewa has been made, 
and it is found that they are as elaborate as related prac- 
tices of the Taos people. The San Ildefonso inhabitants 
do not seem to have changed their early customs regarding 
land tenure, and they adhere tenaciously to their marriage 
customs and birth rites, notwithstanding the long period 
during which missionaries have been among them. It is 
expected that, of her many lines of study among the Tewa 



20 ■ BUKEAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

triljes, the subject of their material culture will produce 
the first results for publication. 

After completing some special articles on ethnologic 
topics for the closing pages of Part 2 of the Handbook 
of American Indians, Mr. J. N. B. Hewitt, ethnologist, 
pursued the study of the history of the tribes formerly 
dwelling in the Susquehanna and upper Ohio valleys. 
Progress in these researches was interrupted by the neces- 
sity of assigning him to the editorial revision and annota- 
tion of a collection of about 120 legends, traditions, and 
myths of the Seneca Indians, recorded in 1884 and 1885 by 
the late Jeremiah Curtin. At the close of the year this 
work was far advanced, only about 150 pages of a total of 
1,400 pages remaining to be treated. As opportunity af- 
forded, Mr. Hewitt also resumed the preparation of his 
sketch of the granunar of the Iroquois for incoi*poration 
in the Handbook of American Indian Languages. 

As in previous years, Mr. Hewitt prepared and collected 
data for replies to numerous correspondents requesting 
special information, particularly in regard to the Iroquois 
and Algonquian trilies. Mr. Hewitt also had charge of 
the important collection of 1,716 manuscripts of the bureau, 
cataloguing new accessions and keeping a record of those 
withdrawn in the progress of the bureau's researches. 
During the year, 378 manuscripts were thus made use of 
by the members of the bureau and its collaborators. Ex- 
clusive of the numerous manuscripts prepared by the staff 
of the bureau and by those in collaboration with it, re- 
ferred to in this report, 12 items were added during the 
year. These pertain to the Pawnee, Chippewa, Zuiii, and 
Tewa tribes, and relate to music, sociology, economics, and 
linguistics. 

The beginning of the fiscal year found Dr. Truman 
Michelson, ethnologist, conducting ethnological and lin- 
guistic investigations among the Piegan Indians of Mon- 
tana, whence he proceeded to the Northern Cheyenne and 
Northern Arapaho, thence to the Menominee of Wisconsin, 
and finally to the Micmac of Restigouche, Canada — all 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 21 

Algonquian tribes, the need of a more definite linguistic 
classification of which has long been felt. Doctor Michel- 
son returned to Washington at the close of November and 
immediately commenced the elaboration of his field notes, 
one of the results of which is a manuscript bearing the title 
"A Linguistic Classification of the Algonquian Tribes," 
submitted for publication in the Twenty-eighth Annual Re- 
port. Also in connection with his Algonquian work Doctor 
Michelson devoted attention to the further revision of the 
material pertaining to the Fox granunar, by the late Dr. 
William Jones, the outline of which is incorporated in the 
Handbook of American Indian Languages. During the 
winter Doctor Michelson took advantage of the presence in 
Washington of a deputation of Chippewa Indians from 
White Earth, Minnesota, by enlisting their services in gain- 
ing an insight into the social organization of that tribe and 
also in adding to the bureau's accumulation of Chippewa 
linguistic data. Toward the close of June, 1911, Doctor 
Michelson proceeded to the Sauk and Fox Reservation 
in Iowa for the purpose of continuing his study of that 
Algonquian group. 

The months of July and August and half of September, 
1910, were spent by Dr. Paul Radin, ethnologist, among the 
Winnebago Indians of Nebraska and Wisconsin, his efforts 
being devoted to a continuation of his studies of the culture 
of those people, with special reference to their ceremonial 
and social organization and their general social customs. 
Part of the time was devoted to a study of the Winnebago 
material culture, but little progress was made in this direc- 
tion, as few objects of aboriginal origin are now possessed 
by these people, consequently the study must be completed 
by examination of their objects preserved in museums and 
private collections. A beginning in this direction was 
made by Doctor Radin during the latter half of September 
and in October at the American Museum of Natural His- 
tory, New York City. During the remainder of the fiscal 
year Doctor Radin was engaged in arranging the ethno- 
logical material gathered by him during the several years 



22 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

he has devoted to the Winnebago tribe, and in the prepara- 
tion of a monograph on the Medicine ceremony of the 
Winnebago and a memoir on the ethnology of the Winne- 
bago tribe in general. In June, 1911, he again took the 
field in Wisconsin for the purpose of obtaining the data 
necessary to complete the tribal monograph. Both these 
manuscripts, it is expected, will be finished by the close of 
the present calendar year. 

By arrangement with the Commissioner of Indian 
Affairs the bureau was fortunate in enlisting the services 
of Mr. Francis La Flesche, who has been frequently men- 
tioned in the annual reports of the bureau in connection 
with his studies, jointly with Miss Alice C. Fletcher, of the 
ethnology of the Omaha tribe of the Siouan family. Hav- 
ing been assigned the task of making a comparative study 
of the Osage tribe of the same family, Mr. La Flesche pro- 
ceeded to their reservation in Oklahoma in September. 
The older Osage men, hke the older Indians generally, are 
very conservative, and time and tact were necessary to 
obtain such standing in the tribe as would enable him to 
establish friendly relations with those to whom it was nec- 
essary to look for trustworthy information. Although the 
Osage language is similar to that of the Omaha, Mr. La 
Flesche 's native tongue, there are many words and phrases 
that sound alike but are used in different senses by the 
two tribes. Having practically mastered the language, 
Mr. La Flesche was prepared to devote several months to 
what is known as the No'''ho''zhi°ga le'ta, the general term 
applied to a complex series of ceremonies which partake of 
the nature of degrees, but are not, strictly speaking, suc- 
cessive steps, although each one is linked to the other in a 
general sequence. While at the present stage of the in- 
vestigation it would be premature to make a definite state- 
inent as to the full meaning and interrelation of these 
Osage ceremonies, there appear to be seven divisions of 
the ]Sro°'ho°zhi''ga le'ta, the names, functions, and sequence 
of which have been learned, but whether the sequence thus 
far noted is always maintained remains to be determined. 



ADMINISTRATIVE EEPOET 23 

From Saucy Calf, one of the three surviving Osage re- 
garded as past masters in these ceremonies, phonographic 
records of the first of the ceremonies, the Waxo'be-awatho", 
have been made in its entirety, consisting of 80 songs with 
words and music and 7 prayers. All these have been tran- 
scribed and in part translated into English, comprising a 
manuscript exceeding 300 pages. In order to discuss with 
the Osage the meaning of these rituals, Mr. La Flesche 
found it necessary to commit them to memory, as reading 
from the manuscript disconcerted the old seer. At Saucy 
Calf's invitation Mr. La Flesche witnessed in the autumn, 
at Grayhorse, a performance of the ceremony of the 
Waxo'be-awatho", the recitation of the rituals of which 
requires one day, part of a night, and more than half of 
the following day. It is Mr. La Flesche 's purpose to re- 
cord, if possible, the rituals of the remaining six divisions 
of the No'"ho"zhi"ga le'ta. He has already obtained a 
paraphrase of the seventh ceremony (the Nik'ino"k'o°), 
and hopes soon to procure a phonographic record of all the 
rituals pertaining thereto. 

In connection with his ethnological work Mr. La Flesche 
has been so fortunate as to obtain for the National Museum 
four of the waxo'be, or sacred packs, each of which formed 
a part of the paraphernalia of the No'"ho''zhi''ga le'ta, as 
well as a tvaxo'he-to"' ga, the great waxo'be which contains 
the instruments for tattooing. Only those Osage are tat- 
tooed who have performed certain acts prescribed in the 
rites of the No'"ho"zhi"ga le'ta. The rites of the tattooing 
ceremony are yet to be recorded and elucidated. While 
the waxo'be is the most sacred of the articles that form the 
paraphernalia of the No'"ho"zhi''ga le'ta rites, it is not com- 
plete in itself; other things are indispensable to their per- 
formance, and it is hoped that these may be procured at 
some future time. 

While not recorded as one of the ceremonial divisions of 
the No'"ho"zhi"ga le'ta, there is a ceremony so closely con- 
nected with it that it might well be regarded as a part 
thereof ; that is the Washa'beathi" watsi, or the dance of 
the standards. The introductory part of this ceremonv is 



24 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

called Akixage, or weeping over one another in mutual 
sympathy- by the members of the two great divisions of the 
tribe. There is no regular time for the performance of the 
Washa'beathi" ceremony. It is given only when a mem- 
ber of the tribe loses by death some specially loved and 
favored relative and seeks a ceremonial expression of sym- 
pathy from the entire tribe. It is the intention to procure 
the songs and rituals of this ceremony, and specimens of 
the standards employed in its performance. 

Altogether Mr. La Flesche has made excellent progress 
in his study of the Osage people, and the results are already 
shedding light on the organization and the origin and func- 
tion of the ceremonies of this important tribe. 

SPECIAL RESEARCHES 

The special researches of the bureau in the field of 
linguistics were conducted by Dr. Franz Boas, honorary 
philologist, one of the immediate and tangible results of 
which was the publication of Part 1 of the Handbook of 
American Indian Languages. It seems desirable to restate 
at the present time the development of the plan and the 
object of this work. 

Through the efforts of the late Major Powell and his 
collaborators a great number of vocabularies and a few 
grammars of American Indian languages had been accu- 
mulated, but no attempt had been made to give a succinct 
description of the morphology of all the languages of the 
continent. In order to do this, a series of publications was 
necessar}^ The subject matter had to be represented by a 
number of grammatical sketches, such as are now being as- 
sembled in the Handbook of American Indian Languages. 
To substantiate the inductions contained in this granunar, 
collections of texts are indispensable to the student, and 
finally a series of extended vocabularies are required. The 
plan, as developed between 1890 and 1900, contemplated the 
assembling in the bulletin series of the bureau of a series of 
texts which were to form the basis of the handbook. Of 
this series, Doctor Boas's Chinook, Kathlamet, and Tsim- 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 25 

shian Texts, and Swan ton's Haida and Tlingit Texts, sub- 
sequently published, form a part, but at the time Swanton's 
Texts appeared it was believed by Secretary Langley that 
material of this kind was too technical in character to war- 
rant publication in a governmental series. It was, there- 
fore, decided to discontinue the text series in the bulletins 
of the bureau and to divert them to the Publications of the 
American Ethnological Society and the Columbia Univer- 
sity Contributions to Anthropology. Other series Avere 
commenced by the University of California and the Uni- 
versity of Pennsylvania. The method of publication pur- 
sued at the present time, though different from that first 
planned, is acceptable, since all the material is accessible 
to students, and the bureau is saved the expense of 
publication. 

Doctor Boas has been enabled to base all the sketches 
in the first volume of his handbook on accompanying text 
series, as follows : 

(1) Athapascan. Texts published by the University of 
California. 

(2) Tlingit. Texts i^ublished by the Bureau of Ameri- 
can Ethnology, but too late to be used systematically. 

(3) Haida. Texts published by the Bureau of Ameri- 
can Ethnology. 

(4) Tsimshian. Texts published by the Bureau of 
American Ethnology and the American Ethnological So- 
ciety. 

(5) Kwakiutl. Texts published by the Jesup Expedi- 
tion and in the Columbia University series. 

(6) Chinook. Texts published by the Bureau of Ameri- 
can Ethnology. 

(7) Maidu. Texts published by the American Ethno- 
logical Society, but too late to be used. 

(8) Algonquian. Texts published by the American 
Ethnological Societ.y. 

(9) Sioux. Texts in Contributions to North American 
Ethnology. 

(10) Eskimo. Texts in " Meddelelser om Grpnland," 
but not used systematically. 



26 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

Although Doctor Boas has urged the desirability of un- 
dertaking the publication of the series of vocabularies, no 
definite steps have yet been taken toward the realization of 
this plan, owing largely to lack of funds for the employ- 
ment of assistants in preparing the materials. It is hoped, 
however, that such a series of vocabularies, based on the 
published grammars and on the series of texts above re- 
ferred to, may be prepared for publication in the near 
future. Much of the preliminary work has been done. 
There are, for example, extended manuscript dictionaries 
of the Haida, Tsimshian, Kwakiutl, Chinook, and Sioux, 
but none of them is yet ready for the printer. 

The work on Part 2 of the Handbook of American Indian 
Languages is progressing satisfactorily. The sketch of the 
Takelma is in page form (pp. 1-296), but Doctor Boas has 
undertaken the correlation of this sketch with the Takelma 
Texts, which meanwhile have beenpublishedby the Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania, and a considerable amount of work 
remains to be done to finish this revision. The Coos gram- 
mar is in galleys. The Coos Texts are at the present writ- 
ing being printed by the American Ethnological Society, 
and here also references are being inserted. Dr. Leo J. 
Frachtenberg has continued his collection of material for 
the handbook with conunendable energy and intelligence. 
The field work has been financially aided by Columbia Uni- 
versity, partly through a gift made by Mrs. Henry Villard 
and partly through funds provided by Mr. Homer E. Sar- 
gent. It has also been possible to utilize for the work on 
the Alsea the collections made at a former time by Prof. 
Livingston Farrand on an expedition supported by the late 
Mr. Henry Villard. On his last expedition Doctor Frach- 
tenberg was able to determine that the Siuslaw is an inde- 
pendent stock, although morphologically affiliated with the 
Alsea, Coos, and Siuslaw group.. He also collected exten- 
sive material on the Alsea and Molala. 

The most important result, which is appearing more and 
more clearly from the investigations carried out under the 
direction of Doctor Boas, lies in the fact that it will be pos- 
sible to classify American languages on a basis wider than 



ADMINISTRATIVE KEPOET 27 

that of linguistic stocks. In 1893 Doctor Boas called at- 
tention to the fact that a number of languages in northern 
British Columbia seem to have certain morphological traits 
in common, by which they are sharply differentiated from 
all the neighboring languages, although the evidence for a 
common origin of the stocks is unsatisfactory. Doctor 
Boas and his assistants have followed this observation, 
and it can now be shown that throughout the continent 
languages may be classed in wider morphological grovips. 
It is interesting to note that phonetic groups may be distin- 
guished in a similar manner, but these do not coincide with 
the morphological groups. These observations are in ac- 
cord with the results of modern inquiries in Africa and 
Asia, where the influence of Hamitic phonetics on lan- 
guages of the Sudan and the influence of Sumerian on 
early Babylonian have been traced in a similar manner. 
Analogous conditions seem to prevail also in South Africa, 
where the phonetics of the Buslmian languages have influ- 
enced the neighboring Bantu languages. In this way a 
number of entirely new and fundamental problems in lin- 
guistic ethnography have been formulated, the solution of 
which is of the greatest importance for a clear understand- 
ing of the early history of the American Continent. 

The Handbook of American Indian Languages as 
planned at the present time deals exckisively with an ana- 
lytical study of the morphology of each linguistic family, 
without any attempt at a detailed discussion of phonetic 
processes, their influence upon the development of the lan- 
guage, and the relation of dialects. Doctor Boas recom- 
mends that the present Handbook of American Indian 
Languages be followed by a series of handbooks each de- 
voted to a single linguistic stock, in which the development 
of each language, so far as it can be traced by comparative 
studies, should be treated. 

The study of aboriginal American music was conducted 
among the Chippewa Indians by Miss Prances Densmore, 
who extended her field of work previously begun among 
that people and elaborated the system of analyzing their 
songs. After spending several weeks on the Lac du Flam- 



28 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

beau Reservation in Wisconsin she accompanied the Chip- 
pewa from that reservation to the Menominee Reservation 
in the same State, where the Lac du Flambean Chippewa 
ceremonially presented two drums to the Menominee. 
This ceremony was closely observed, photographs being 
taken and the speeches of presentation translated, and the 
songs of the ceremony were recorded by Miss Densmore on 
a phonograph after the return of the drum party to Lac du 
Flambeau. Many of the songs are of Sioux origin, as the 
ceremony was adopted from that people ; consequently the 
songs were analyzed separately from those of Chippewa 
origin. Numerous old war songs were recorded at Lac du 
Flambeau, also songs said to have been composed during 
dreams, and others used as accompaniments to games and 
dances. The analytical tables published during the year 
in Bulletin 45, Chippewa Music, have been combined hy 
Miss Densmore with those of songs collected during the 
year 1910-11, making a total of 340 Chippewa songs under 
analysis. These are analyzed in 12 tables, showing the 
structure, tone material, melodic progression, and rhythm 
of the songs, the rhythm of the drum, the relation between 
the metric unit of the voice and drum, and other points 
bearing on the development and form of primitive musical 
expression. This material is now almost ready for publi- 
cation. The Sioux songs of the Drinn-presentation cere- 
mony, similarly analyzed, constitute the beginning of an 
analytical study of the Sioux music, which will be con- 
tinued and extended during the fiscal year 1911-12. 

Miss Alice C. Fletcher and Mr. La Flesche conducted 
the final proof revision of their monograph on the Omaha 
tribe, to accompany the Twenty-seventh Annual Report, 
which was in press at the close of the fiscal year. This 
memoir will comprise 658 printed pages and will form the 
most complete monograph of a single tribe that has yet 
appeared. 

• Mr. J. P. Dunn, whose studies of the Algonquian tribes 
of the Middle West have been mentioned in previous re- 
ports, deemed it advisable, before continuing his investi- 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 29 

gation of the languages of the tribes comprising the former 
Illinois confederacy, to await the completion of the copy- 
ing of the anonymous manuscript Miami-French Diction- 
ary, attributed to Pere Joseph Ignatius Le Boulanger, in 
the John Carter Brown Library at Providence, Rhode 
Island. Through the courteous permission of Mr. George 
Parker Winship, librarian, the bureau has been enabled to 
conunence the copying of this manuscript, the difficult task 
being assigned to Miss Margaret Bingham Stillwell, under 
Mr. Winship 's immediate direction. At the close of the 
fiscal year 20 J pages of the original (comprising 95 pages 
of transcript), of the total of 155 pages of the dictionary 
proper, were finished and submitted to the bureau. It is 
hoped that on the completion of the copying the bureau 
will have a basis for the study of the Miami and related 
languages that would not be possible among the greatly 
modified remnant of the Indians still speaking them. 

Prof. Howard M. Ballon, of Honolulu, has continued 
the preparation of the List of Works Relating to Hawaii, 
undertaken in collaboration with the late Dr. Cyrus 
Thomas, and during the year submitted the titles of many 
early publications, including those of obscure books printed 
in the Hawaiian language. 

Mr. John P. Harrington, of the School of American 
Archaeology, proceeded in March to the Colorado Valley 
in Arizona and California for the purpose of continuing 
his studies, commenced a few years before, among the 
Mohave Indians, and incidentally to make collections for 
the United States National Musexim. Mr. Harrington was 
still among these Indians at the close of July, and the re- 
sults of his studies, which cover every phase of the life of 
this interesting people, are to be placed at the disposal of 
the bureau for publication. 

PUBLICATIONS 

The general editorial work of the bureau continued in 
immediate charge of Mr. J. Gr. Gurley, editor. The editing 
of Part 2 of Bulletin 30, Handbook of American Indians, 



30 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGT 

was conducted by Mr. Hodge, while the editorial super- 
vision of Bulletin 40, Handbook of American Indian Lan- 
guages, was in charge of Doctor Boas. At the close of the 
fiscal year the Twenty-seventh Annual Report was nearly 
ready for the bindery ; more than one-third of Bulletin 40, 
Part 2, was in type (mostly in pages) ; and Bulletin 47, a 
Dictionary of the Biloxi and Ofo Languages, by Dorsey 
and Swanton, was in page form. Some progress had been 
made in the revision of the galley proof of Bulletin 46, 
Byington's Choctaw Dictionary, a work requiring the ex- 
penditure of considerable time and labor. Much of Mr. 
Gurley's time during the year was given to the work of 
editing and jjroof reading the Twenty-seventh Annual Re- 
port and its accompanying paper, the monograph on the 
Omaha tribe, by Miss Fletcher and Mr. La Plesche, above 
referred to. The following publications were issued dur- 
ing the year : 

Bulletin 30. Handbook of American Indians North of 
Mexico (F. W. Hodge, editor), Part 2. 

Bulletin 37. Antiquities of Central and Southeastern 
Missouri (Gerard Fowke). 

Bulletin 40. Handbook of American Indian Languages 
(Franz Boas, editor). Part 1. 

Bvilletin 43. Indian Tribes of the Lower Mississippi 
Valley and Adjacent Coast of the Gulf of Mexico (J. R. 
Swanton). 

Bulletin 44. Indian Languages of Mexico and Central 
America and their Geographical Distribution (Cyrus 
Thomas and J. R. Swanton). 

Bulletin 45. Chippewa Music (Frances Densmore). 

Bulletin 50. Preliminary Report on a Visit to the Nav- 
aho National Monument, Arizona (J. Walter Fewkes). 

Bulletin 51. Antiquities of the Mesa Verde National 
Park: Cliff Palace (J. Walter Fewkes). 

ILLUSTRATIONS 

The preparation of the illustrations for the publications 
of the bureau and the making of photographic portraits of 



ADMINISTRATIVE REPORT 31 

the members of visiting deputations of Indians were in 
charge of Mr. De Lancey Gill, illustrator. Of the 246 
negatives made, 120 comprise portraits of visiting Indians. 
In addition, 372 photographic films, exposed by members 
of the bureau in connection with their field work, were 
developed and printed. Photographic prints for publica- 
tion and exchange were made to the nmnber of 1,469, and 
22 drawings for use as illustrations were prepared. Mr. 
Gill was assisted, as in the past, by Mr. Henry Walther. 

LIBRARY 

The library of the bureau has continued in the immediate 
charge of Miss Ella Leary, librarian. During the year 
that part of the southeastern gallery of the lower main 
hall of the Smithsonian Building which was vacated by the 
National Museum was assigned to the use of the bureau 
library, and three additional staclis were built, providing 
shelf room for about 2,500 volumes. Nearly that numl)er 
of books which had been stored, and consequently made 
inaccessible, were placed on the new shelves. The policy 
carried out from year to year of increasing the library by 
exchange with other institutions has been continued, and 
special effort made to complete the collection of serial pub- 
lications. Especially to be noted is the completion of the 
sets of publications of the Maine Historical Society and 
the Archives of Pennsylvania, both rich in material per- 
taining to the Indians. As in the past, it has been neces- 
sary for the bureau to make use of the Library of Congress 
from time to time, about 200 vokimes having been borrowed 
during the year. Twelve hundred books . and approxi- 
mately 650 pamphlets were received, in addition to the 
current numbers of more than 600 periodicals. Of the 
books and pamphlets received, 148 were acquired by pur- 
chase, the remainder by gift or exchange. Six hundred 
and eighty-nine volumes were bound by the Government 
Printing Office, payment therefor being made from the 
allotment " for printing and binding * * * annual 
reports and bulletins of the Bureau of American Ethnol- 



32 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

ogy, and for miscellaneous printing and binding," author- 
ized by the sundry civil act. This provision has enabled 
the bureau, during the last two years, to bind many vol- 
umes in almost daily use which were threatened ^vith de- 
struction. The catalogue of the bureau now records 17,250 
volumes ; there are also about 12,200 pamphlets, and sev- 
eral thousand unbound periodicals. The library is con- 
stantly referred to by students not connected with the 
bureau, as well as by various officials of the Government 
service. 

PROPERTY 

As noted in previous reports, the principal property of 
the bvireau consists of its library, manuscripts, and photo- 
graphic negatives. In addition, it possesses a number of 
cameras, phonographic machines, and ordinary apparatus 
and equipment for field work, stationery and office sup- 
plies, a moderate amount of office furniture, typewriters, 
etc., and the undistributed stock of its publications. The 
sum of $304.62 was expended for office furniture (includ- 
ing bookstacks at a cost of $205) during the fiscal year. 

RECOMMENDATIONS 

For the purpose of extending the s.vstematic researches 
of the boireau and of affording additional facilities for its 
administration, the following recommendations are made : 

A question having arisen in the Committee on Appro- 
priations of the House of Representatives as to the purpose 
for which an increase of $2,000 in the bureau's appropria- 
tion in 1909 was intended, the work of excavating and re- 
pairing antiquities existing in national parks and monu- 
ments has been curtailed. The importance of elucidating 
the archeological problems connected with these ancient 
remains and of repairing the more important of them for 
visitors and for future students is so apparent that the 
need of continuing this work is generally recognized ; con- 
sequently an estimate of $4,000 ' ' for the exploration and 
preservation of antiquities ' ' has been submitted for the 
next fiscal year. 



ADMINISTRATIVE EEPOET 33 

Ethnological research in Alaska is urgently needed by 
reason of the great changes taking place among the Indians 
and the Eskimo since the influx of white people a few years 
ago. Unless this investigation is undertaken at once the 
aboriginal inhabitants will have become so modifiegl by 
contact with whites that knowledge of much of their pi'irai- 
tive life will be lost. It is recommended that the sum of 
$4,500 be appropriated for this work. 

The more speed}^ extension of ethnological researches 
among the remnants of the Algonquian tribes formei'ly 
occupying the Middle West is desired. In a number of 
cases these tribes are represented by only a few survivors 
who retain any knowledge of the traits, langviage, and cus- 
toms of their people ; hence it will be impossible to gather 
much of this information imless the work is extended more 
rapidly, as the funds now at the bureau's disposal for this 
purpose are inadequate. The additional sum of $1,000 is 
recommended for this purpose. 

As previously stated, the demand for the Handbook of 
American Indians has been so great that many scliools 
and libraries have necessarily been denied. The need of a 
revised edition is urgent, but the revision can not be satis- 
factorily undertaken and the latest information incorpo- 
rated without the employment of special ethnologic assist- 
ants — those who have devoted special study to particular 
tribes — and editorial and clerical aid. It is recommended 
that the sum of $3,800 be appropriated for this purpose. 

The bureau is constantly in receipt of requests from 
schools, historical societies, compilers of textbooks, etc., 
for photographic prints of Indian subjects, since it is gen- 
erally known that the bureau possesses many thousands of 
negatives accumulated in the course of its investigations. 
As no funds are now available for this purpose, it is rec- 
ommended that a reasonable sum, say $1,000, be appropri- 
ated for the purpose of furnishing prints for educational 
purposes. In most cases applicants would doubtless be 
willing to pay the cost, but at present the bureau has no 
authority for selling photographs. 

94615°— 18 3 



34 BUREAU OIP AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY 

The manuscripts accumulated by the bureau form a 
priceless collection; indeed many of them, if lost, could 
not be replaced, since thej^ represent the results of studies 
of Indians who have become extinct or have lost their 
tribal identity. It is therefore urgently recommended that 
the sum of $1,350 be appropriated for fireproofing a room 
ami foi- providing metal cases for the permanent preserva- 
tion of the manuscripts. 

F. W. Hodge, 
Ethnologist-in-Charge. 



ACCOMPANYING PAPER 



35 



SENEGA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS 

Part 1 



CoUected by JEREMIAH CURTIN and J. N. B. HEWITT; 
edited by J. N. B. HEWITT 



37 



CONTENTS 



Introduction 43 

Part 1. Material Collected by Jeremiah Cubtin 

FICTION 

1. The sister and her six elder brothers 75 

2. The child and his uncle 81 

3. Djogeon and his uncle 84 

4. The woman who married a great serpent 86 

5. The gliost woman and the hunter 90 

6. Hahnowa and his forces on the warpath 92 

7. The old man's grandson and the chief of the deserted village 95 

8. The man who married a buffalo woman .' 98 

9. A woman and her bear lover 102 

10. The fox and the rabbit 105 

11. The snake with two heads 106 

12. A hunter pursued by Genonsgwa 106 

13. The grandmother and her granddaughter Ill 

14. The woman who became a snake from eating fish Ill 

15. Gaqga makes a journey and kills many people 113 

16. Ohohwa and the two sisters 115 

17. A great snake battle 117 

18. The Ongwe las and his younger brother 118 

19. Haiendonnis and Yenogeauns 121 

20. The man with a panther-skin robe and his brother with a turkey -skin robe. . 127 

21. Deadoendjadases and the old woman's grandson 135 

22. Hat'hondas (the Listener) 139 

23. The story of the Ohohwa people 144 

24. The chestnut tree guarded by the seven sisters 147 

25. The otter's heart and the claw fetishes 151 

26. The seven sisters who produce wampum 154 

27. The forsaken infant and Gaha 160 

28. The old man and the boy 162 

29. The story of the girls who went for a husband 166 

30. The creation of man 168 

31. Ganiagwaihegowa 169 

32. The man who became a fish, and a Ganiagwaihe 169 

33. A dead man speaks to his mother through the fire 172 

34. The potent boy 176 

35. The faithless wife and the three old men 180 

36. The Dagwanoenyent and her husband 187 

37. A raccoon story 191 

39 



40 CONTENTS 

Page 

38. The self-sacrifice of two dogs for their master 193 

39. The three young women 195 

40. Hinon and the Seneca warriors 197 

41. Hodadenon and Yenyent'hwus 199 

42. The uncle and hie nephew 223 

43. Hinon eaves a woman from suicide 228 

44. The crawfish and the raccoon 229 

45. The race between the turtle and the bear 229 

46. The woman who became a man-eater through the orenda of her husband's 

dogs 231 

47. Ganyadjigowa 236 

48. Hadent'heni and Hanigongendat'ha 2.51 

49. Dagwanoenyent 261 

50. The shaman and his nephew 262 

51. The homed snake and the young woman 268 

52. The man pursued by his sister-in-law 270 

53. The story of bloody hand 273 

54. The seven stars of the dipper 276 

55. The story of the two brothers 277 

56. Hodionskon 283 

57". The cannibal uncle, his nephew, and the nephew's invisible brother 285 

58. Doonongaes and Tsodiqgwadon 296 

LEGENDS 

59. Genonsgwa 341 

60. The grandmother and her grandson 347 

61. Heart squeezing and the dance of naked persons 355 

62. Hot' ho, the Winter God 356 

63. S'hagodiyoweqgowa and his three brothers 357 

64. The moose wife 361 

65. S'hagodiyoweqgowa 365 

66. The porcupine's grandson and the bear 365 

67. G enonsgwa 369 

68. Hinon Hohawaqk and his grandmother 372 

69. Hagowanen and Ot'hegwenhda 376 

70. Okteondon and Haiefit'hwus. Parti 389 

71. Okteondon and Haiefit'hwus. Part II 399 

72. Uncle and nephew and the white otters 401 

73. Deoyadastat' he and Hodjowiski 406 

74. A genesis tradition 409 

75. The two brothers and the mice fetishes 415 

76. The orphan 417 

77. The great worm and Hinon 420 

78. The chipmunk and the bear 421 

79. The great white beaver and the Lake of the Enchanted Waters 422 

TRADITIONS 

80. Ganon, the Seneca war chief 428 

81. Hatcinondon: A historical tradition 432 

82. Godiont and the S'hagodiyoweqgowa 436 

83. S'hagodiyoweqgowa 437 



CONTENTS ' 41 

Page 

84. S'hagodiyoweqgowa 437 

85. Genonsgwa 437 

86. Genonsgwa 439 

87. Genonsgwa 440 

88. Genonsgwa 440 

89. Genonsgwa 441 

90. Bald Eagle sends Mud Turtle around the world 450 

91. The poor hunter and Djogeon 452 

92. The man killed by the three hunters 453 

93. Hinon and the Iroquois 456 

TALES 

94. A shaman's deed 457 

95. S'hagodiyoweqgowa (modern) 457 

9C. S'hagodiyoweqgowa 458 

97. The vampire skeleton 458 

MYTHS 

98. A tale of the sky world 460 

99. S'hagodiyoweqgowa and Hot'hoh 462 

100. The morning star and the cannibal wife 464 

101. The woman and the cannibal thunder 469 

102. Gaqga and Sgagedi 472 

103. Dagwanoenyent and Gaasyendiet'ha 474 

104. Dagwanoenyentgowa S'hagodigendji and Yenonsgwa 481 

105. The twelve brothers and their uncle, Dagwanoenyent '.. 485 

106. Ongwe las and his brother, Dagwanoenyent 488 

MEDICAL NOTE 

107. Notes on the medicine nikahnegaah 491 

Part 2. Seneca Legends and Myths, Collected by J. N. B. Hewitt 

108. The legend of Hayanowe (He-the-fleet-footed) 495 

109. Oiigwe' Haiiges"ha' and Gajihsondis (Skin-of-man and Spike-hitter) 501 

110. Gaiih.sondis, the Amulet-hitter 519 

111. The legend of Honenhineh and his younger brothers 525 

112. The legend of Godasiyo 537 

113. A legend of an anthropomorphic tribe of rattlesnakes 539 

114. The twins: grandsons of Gaho°'dji'da"ho''k 543 

115. The legend of the misogamist 555 

116. The acts of the seventh son, Djengo"se' 565 

117. The legend of Hodadenon and his elder sister 573 

118. The legend of Gadjis'dodo' and S'hogo""gwa's 586 

119. The legend of Deodyat^aowen (Deoditl't;;a6'we6'''=His-body-is-bifid or 

two-cleft) 607 

120. An address of thanksgiving to the powers of the Master of Life 632 

121. A corn legend and a flood story 636 

122. The legend of man's acquisition of corn 642 

123. The bean woman (a fragment) 648 

124. The legend of Onenha (the com) 649 



42 ' CONTENTS 

Page 

125. The origin of white corn, or kanenhagenat 652 

126. The origin of the Porcupine people or clan 654 

127. The origin of the Bear songs and dances 658 

128. The origin of the Pigeon songs and dances 663 

129. The legend of Hahadodagwat'ha 666 

130. The story of Hahskwahot ( = It-standing-stone) 680 

131. The legend of Genonsgwa C81 

1?2. The legend of the Stone Coats (Geno sgwa) 682 

133. The story of the white pigeon, the chief of the pigeons 694 

134. The weeping of the Corn, and Bean, and Squash people 701 

135. S'hagowenot'ha, the spirit of the tides 705 

136. S'hagowenot'ha (text), with interlinear translation 715 

137. The legend of Doadanegen and Hotkwisdadegena 743 

138. The legend of Doadanegen and Hotkwisdadegeiia (text), with interlinear 

translation 756 

Notes 791 



SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS 



Collected by Jeremiah Curtin and J. N. B. Hewitt ; edited by J. N. B. Hewitt 



T 



INTRODUCTION 

The Seneca 

HE following brief description of the Seneca is taken, with 
slight alterations, from the article on that tribe in the Hand- 
book of American Indians : 



The Seneca (=Place of the Stone) are a noted and influential tribe of the 
Iroquois, or the so-called Fire Nations of New York. When first known they 
occupied a region in central New York, lying between the western watershed 
of the Genesee r. and the lands of the Cayuga about Seneca lake, having their 
council fire at Tsonontowan, near Naples, in Ontario co. After the political 
destruction of the Erie and Neuters, about the middle of the 17th cen- 
tury, the Seneca and other Iroquois people carried their settlements west- 
ward to L. Erie and southward along the Alleghany into Pennsylvania. They 
are now settled chiefly on the Allegany. Cattaraugus, and Tonawanda res., N. Y.. 
and some live on Grand River res., Ontario. Various local bands have been 
known as Buffalo. Tonawanda, and Cornplanter Indians; and the Mingo, for- 
merly in Ohio, have become oflicially known as Seneca from the large number 
of that tribe among them. 

In the third quarter of the 16th century, the Seneca was the la.'ft but one of 
the Iroquois tribes to give its suffrage in favor of the abolition of murder and 
war. the suppression of cannibalism, and the establishment of the principles 
upon which the League of the Iroquois was founded. However, a large division 
of the tribe did not adopt at once the course of the main body, but, on obtain- 
ing coveted privileges and prerogatives, tlie recalcitrant body was admitted as a 
constituent member in the structure of the League. The two chiefships last 
added to the quota of the Seneca were admitted on condition of their exercising 
functions belonging to a sergeant-at-arms of a modern legislative body as well 
as those belonging to a modern secretary of state for foreign affairs, in addition 
to their duties as federal chieftains; indeed, they became the warders of the 
famous " Great Black Doorway " of the League of the Iroquois, called 
Ka'nho'hu'ddji'ffo'nd' by the Onondaga. 

In historical times the Seneca have been by far the most populous of the five 
tribes originally composing the League of the Iroquois. The Seneca belong In 
the federal organization to the tribal phratry known by the political name 
HoMonnls"hc"' , meaning. ' they are clansmen of the fathers," of which the 
Mohawk are the other member, when the tribes are organized as a federal 
council ; but when ceremonially organized the Onondaga also belong to this 
phratry. In the federal council the Seneca are represented by eight 
federal chiefs, but two of these were added to the original six present 

43 



44 SEKECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

at the first fwleral council, to give representation to that part of the tribe which 
had at first refused to join the League. Since the organization of the League 
of the Iroquois, approximately in the third quarter of the 16th century, the 
Humber of Seneca clans, which are organized into two phratries for the per- 
formance of both ceremonial and civil functions, have varied. The names of 
the following nine have been recorded: Wolf, Honnat'haiion'ni' ; Bear, Hodi- 
ti}ionni''gd' ; Beaver, Hodigc"''(;cpu.' ; Turtle, Hadinia'derV; Hawk, Hadis'hwe"''- 
gaiiu'; Sand[)iper, Hodi'ne'si'iu', sometimes also called Snipe, Plover, and 
Killdee; Deer, Hadiniou'giraiiu' ; Doe, Hodino"''dcogu', sometimes Hohnoht'- 
gohdjff" ; Heron. nodidaio"''gu'. In a list of clan names made in 1S38 by Gen. 
Dearborn from information given him by Mr Cone, an interpreter of the Tona- 
wanda band, the Heron clan is called the Swan clan with the native name 
given above. Of these clans only five had an unequal representation in the 
federal council of the League; namely, the Sandpiper, three, the Turtle, two, 
the Hawk, one, the Wolf, one, and the Bear, one. 

One of the earliest known references to the ethnic name Seneca is that on 
the Original Carte Figurative, annexed to the Memorial presented to the States- 
General of the Netherlands, Aug. 18, 1016, on which it appears with the Dutch 
plural as Sennecas. This map is remarkable also for the first known mention 
of the ancient Erie, sometimes called Gahkwas or Kahkwah; on this map they 
appear under the name last cited, Gachoi (ch = kh), and were placed on the n. 
side of the w. branch of the Susquehanna. The name did not originally belong 
to the Seneca, but to the Oneida, as the following lines will show. 

In the early part of December, 1684, three Dutchmen made a journey (the 
itinerary of which was duly recorded in a Journal ') in the interests of the fur- 
trade from Fort Orange, now Albany, N. Y., to the Mohawk and the " Sinne- 
kens " to thvk'nrt French intrigue there. Strictly .speaking, the latter name desig- 
nated the Oneida, but at this time it was a general name, usually comprising the 
Onondaga, the Cayuga, and the Seneca, in addition. At that period the Dutch 
and the French commonly divided the Five Iroquois tribes into two identical 
groups ; to the first, the Diitch gave the name Maquas (Mohawk), and to the lat- 
ter, Sinnekens (Seneca, the final -ens being the Dutch genitive plural), with the 
connotation of the four tribes mentioned above. The French gave to the lat 
ter group the general name "les Iroquois Superieurs", " les Hiroquois d'eu 
haut ", i. e. the Upper Iroquois, " les Hiroquois des pays plus hauls, nommes Son- 
touaheronnons " (literally, 'the Iroquois of the upper country, called Soutou.a- 
heronnons'), the latter being only another form of "les Tsonnontouans" (the 
Seneca) ; and to the first group the desigaations "les Iroquois inferieurs " (the 
Lower Iroquois), and "les Hiroquois d'en bas, nommes Agnechronnons " (the 
Mohawk; literally, 'the Iroquois from below, named Agnechronnons'). This 
geographical rather than political division of the Iroquois tribes, first made by 
Champlain and the early Dutch at Ft Orange, prevailed until about the third 
quarter of the 17th century. Indeed, Governor Andros, two years after Green- 
halgh's visit to the several tribes of the Iroquois in 1677, still wrote, " Ye 
Oneldas deemed ye first nation of sineques." The Journal of the Dutchmen. 

■ The manuscript of this Journal was discovered in Amsterdam in 1895 by the late Gen. 
James Grant Wilson, who published it In the Annual Report of the American Historical 
Association foi' the yeai' 1805, under the caption " Arent Van Curler And His Journal of 
1634-35." But the Van Rensselaer Bowier Manuscripts, edited by the learned Mr. A. J. 
F. van Lacr, sliow that van Curler could not have made the journey, as he did not reach 
Rensselaerswycls until 1637, then a youth of only eighteen. It seems probable that 
Marmcn Meyndertsz van den Bogaert, the surgeon of the fort, was the author of the 
Journal. Consult the Introduction to this same Journal as published in " Narratives of 
New Netherliind, 1609-1664," ed. by J. Franklin Jameson, In Original "Narratives o] Early 
American History (Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, 1909). 



Hewitt] INTKODUCTION 45 

mentioned above, records the interesting fact that during their visit to the tribes 
they celebrated the New Year of 1635 at a place called Enneyuttehaga or Sinne- 
kens. The first of these names was the Iroquois, and the second, the Mohegaa, 
name for the place, or, preferably, the Mohegan translation of the Iroquois name. 
The Dutch received their first Isnowledge of the Iroquois tribes through the 
Mohegan. The name Enneyuttehnga is evidently written for Onemute'agd''ge', 
'at the place of the people of the standing (projecting) stone.' At that date 
this was the chief town of the Oneida. The Dutch Journal identifies the name 
Sinnekens with this town, which is presumptive evidence that it is the Mohegan 
rendering of the Iroquois local name Oneii'iute', ' it is a standing or projecting 
stone', employed as an ethnic appellative. The derivation of Sinnekens from 
Mohegan appears to be as follows : a'sinni, ' a stone, or roclv ', -ika or -iga, de- 
notive of 'place of, or 'abundance of, and the final -ens supplied by the 
Dutch genitive plural ending, the whole Mohegan synthesis meaning ' place of 
the standing stone ' ; and with a suitable pronominal affix, like o- or wu-, which 
was not recorded by the Dutch writers, the translation signifies, ' they are of 
the place of the standing stone.' This etymology is confirmed by the Delaware 
name, W'tassone, for the Oneida, which has a similar derivation. The initial 
w- represents approximately an o-souud, and is the aflix of verbs and nouns 
denotive of the third person; the intercalary -t- is merely euphonic, being em- 
ployed to prevent the coalescence of the two vowel sounds; and it is evident 
that assone is only another form of a'sinni, ' stone ', cited above. Hence it 
appears that the Mohegan and Delaware names for the Oneida are cognate in 
derivation and identical In signification. Heckewelder erroneously translated 
W'tassone by ' stone pipe makers.' 

Thus, the Iroquois Oneniute'ii'ga', the Mohegan Sinnekens, and the Delaware 
W'tassone are synonymous and are homologous in derivation. But the Dutch, 
followed by other Europeans, used the Mohegan term to designate a group of 
four tribes, to only one of which, the Oneida, was it strictly applicable. The 
name Sinnekens, or Sennecaas (Visscher's map, ca. 1660), became the tribal 
name of the Seneca by a process of elimination which excluded from the group 
and from the connotation of the general name the nearer tribes as each with 
its own proper native name became known to the Europeans. Obviously, the 
last remaining tribe of the group would finally acquire as its own the general 
name of the group. The Delaware name for the Seneca was Mexo-xti'^'nl (the 
Maechachtinni of Heckewelder), which signifies 'great mountain'; this is, of 
course, a Delaware rendering of the Iroquois name for the Seneca, Djiionondo- 
loaneiV'Skd', or Djiionondowanen'ron'no'", 'People of the Great Mountain.' 
This name appears disguised as Trudamani (Cartier, 1534-35), Entoiihonnrons, 
ChouontonaroUon^=Chonontouaronon (Champlain, 1615), Oncntouaronons 
(Champlain, 1627), and Tsonontouan or Sonontouan (Jes. Rel., passim). 

Previous to the defeat and despoliation of the Neuters in 1651 and the Erie in 
1656, the Seneca occupied the territory drained by Genesee r., eastward to the 
lands of the Cayuga along the line of the watershed between Seneca and Cayuga 
lakes. 

The political history of the Seneca is largely that of the League of the 
Iroquois, altliough owing to petty jealousies among the various tribes the 
Seneca, like the others, sometimes acted independently in their dealings with 
aliens. But their independent action appears never to have been a serious and 
deliberate rupture of the bonds uniting them with the federal government of 
the League, thus vindicating the wisdom and foresight of its founders in per- 
mitting every tribe to retain and exercise a large measure of autonomy in the 
structure of the federal government. It was sometimes apparently imperative 



46 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

tbnt one of the tribes should enter into a treaty or other compact with its 
enemies, while the others might still maintain a hostile attitude toward the 
alien contracting party. 

During 3G22 the Montiignais, the Algonkin, and the Hurons sought to con- 
clude peace witli the Iroquois ( Yro(/«ois=Mohawlj division?), because "they 
were weary and fatigued with the wars which they had had for more than 50 
years." The armistice was concluded in 1624, but was broken by the continued 
guerrilla warfare of the Algonkin warriors; for this reason the Seneca (" Ouen- 
touoronons d'autre nation, amis desdits Trocois") killed in the "village of the 
Yrocois" the embassy composed of a Frenchman, Pierre Maguan, and three 
Algonquian ambassadors. This resulted in the renewal of the war. So in Sept 
1627, the Iroquois, including the Seneca, declared war against the Indians and 
the French on the St. Lawrence and its northern affluents by sending various 
parties of warriors against them. 

From the Jesuit Relation for 1635 (p. 34. 1858) it is learned that the Seneca, 
after defeating the Hurons in the spring of 1634, made peace with them. The 
Hurons in the following year sent an embassy to Sonontouan, the chief town of 
the Seneca, to ratify the i)eace, and while there learned that the Onondaga, the 
Oneida, the Cayuga, and the Mohawk were desirous of becoming parties to the 
treaty. 

In 1639 the war was renewed by the Hurons, who in May captured 12 pris- 
oners from the Seneca, then regarded as a powerful people. The war continued 
with varying success. The .lesuit Relation for 1641 (p. 75, 1858) says the Seneca 
were the most feared of the enemies of the Hurons, and that they were only one 
day's journey from Ongninahra (Niagara), the most easterly town of the 
Neuters.' The Relation for 1643 (p. 61) says that the Seneca (i. e. " les Hiro- 
Quois d"en haut"), including the Cayuga, the Oneida, and the Onondaga, 
equaled, if they did not exceed, in number and power the Hurons, who pre- 
viously had had this advantage ; and that the Mohawk at this time had three 
villages with 700 or 800 men of arms who possessed 300 arquebuses that they 
had obtained from the Dutch and which they used with skill and boldness. 
According to the Jesuit Relation for 1648 (p. 49, 1858), 300 Seneca attacked 
the village of the Aondironnon, and killed or captured as many of its inhab- 
itants as possible, although this people were a dependency of the Neuters who 
were at peace with the Seneca at this time. This affront nearly precipitated 
war between the Iroquois and the Neuters.' 

The Seneca warriors composed the larger part of the Iroquois warriors who 
in 1C48-49 assailed, destroyed, and dispersed the Huron tribes ; it was likewise 
they who in 1649 sacked the chief towns of the Tionontati, or Tobacco tribe; 
End the Seneca also took a leading part in the defeat f.nd subjugation of the 
Neuters in 1651 and of the Erie in 1656. From the Journal des PP, Jesuites 
for 1651-52 (Jes. Rel.. Thwaites' ed., xxxvii, 97, 1898) it is learned that in 1651 
the Seneca, in waging war against the Neuters, had been so signally defeated 
that their women and children were compelled to flee from Sonoutowan, their 
capital, to seek refuge among the neigliboring Cayuga. 

1 This village of Ongniaahra (Ongiara, Onguiaara. and Sndgiara are other forms found 
in the literature of the Jesuit Fathers) was siluated very probably on or near the site of 
the village of Toungstown, New York. It is the present Iroquoian name of this village, 
but not of the river nor of the Falls of Niagara. 

= The Aondironnon probably dwelt at or near the present Moraviantown, Ontario, 
Canada, although some Iroquois apply the name to St. Thomas, some distance eastward. 
Another form of the name is Ahondihronnon. The nominal part that is distinctive is thus 
Aondi or Ahondin, as written in the Jesuit Relations. The modern Iroquoian form is 
i^'.ti'he'^j ' The middle or center of the peninsula,' 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



^^] INTRODUCTION 47 



In 1652 the Seneca were plotting with the Mohawk to destroy and ruin the 
French settlements on the St. Lawrence. Two years later the Seneca sent an 
embassy to the French for the purpose of making peace with them, a movement 
which was probably brought about by their rupture with the Erie. But the 
Mohawk not desiring peace at that time with the French, perhaps on account of 
their desire to attack the Hurons on Orleans Id., murclered two of the three 
Seneca ambassadors, the other having remained as a hostage with the French. 
This act almost resulted In war between the two hostile tribes; foreign affairs, 
however, were in such condition as to prevent the beginning of actual hostility. 
On Sept. 19, 1655, Fathers Chauraonot and Dablon, after pressing invitations to 
do so, started from Quebec to visit and view the Seneca country, and to estab- 
lish there a French habitatiou and teach the Seneca the articles of their faith. 

In 1657 the Seneca, in carrying out the policy of (he League to adopt conquered 
tribes upon submission and the expression of a desire to live under the form of 
government established by the League, had thus incorporated eleven different 
tribes into their body politic. 

In 1652 Maryland bought from the Minqua, or Susquehanna Indians, i. e. the 
Conestoga, all their land claims on both sides of Chesapeake bay up to the 
mouth of Susquehanna r. In 1663, 800 Seneca and Cayuga warriors from the 
Confederation of the Five Nations were defeated by the Minqua, aided by the 
Marylanders. The Iroquois did not terminate their hostilities until famine had 
so reduced the Conestoga that in 1675, when the Marylanders had disagreed 
with them and had withdrawn their alliance, the Conestoga were completely 
subdued by the Five Nations, who thereafter claimed a right to the Minqua 
lands to the head of Chesapeake bay. 

In 1744 the influence of the French was rapidly gaining ground among the 
Seneca ; meanwhile the astute and persuasive Col. Johnson was gradually win- 
ning the Jlohawk as close allies of the British, while the Onondaga, the Cayuga, 
and the Oneida, under strong pressure from Pennsylvania and Virginia, sought 
to be neutral. 

In 16S6, 200 Seneca warriors went w. against the Miami, the Illinois in the 
meantime having been overcome by the Iroquois in a war lasting about five 
years. In 1687 the Marquis Denonville assembled a great horde of Indians 
from the region of the upper lakes and from the St. Lawrence — Hurons, Ot- 
tawa, Chippewa, Missisauga. Miami, Illinois, Montagnais, Amikwa, and others — 
under Durantaye, DuLuth, and Tonti, to serve as an auxiliary force to about 
1.200 French and colonial levies, to be employed in attacking and destroying 
the Seneca. Having readied Irondequoit, the Seneca landing-place on L, 
Ontario, Denonville built there a stockade in which he left a garrison of 440 
men. Thence advancing to attack the Seneca villages, he was ambushed by 600 
or 800 Seneca, who charged and drove back the colonial levies and their Indian 
allies, and threw the veteran regiments into disorder. Only by the overwhelm- 
ing numbers of his force was the traitorous Denonville saved from disastrous 
defeat. 

In 1763, at Bloody Run and the Devil's Hole, situated on Niagara r. about 4 
m. below the falls, the Seneca ambushed a British supply train on the portage 
road from Ft Schlosser to Ft Niagara, only three escaping from a force of 
nearly 100. At a short distance from this place the same Seneca ambushed a 
British force composed of two companies of troops who were hastening to the 
aid of the supply train, only eight of whom escaped massacre. These bloody 
and harsh measures were the direct result of the general unrest of the Six 
Nations and the western tribes, arising from the manner of the recent occu- 
pancy of the posts by the British, after the surrender of Canada by the French 



48 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

on Sept. 8, 1760. They contrasted the sympathetic and bountiful paternalism of 
the French regime with the neglect and niggardliness that characterized the 
British rule. Such was the state of affairs that on July 29, 1761, Sir Wm. 
Johnson wrote to General Amherst: "I see plainly that there appears to be an 
universal jealousy amongst every nation, on account of the hasty steps they 
look upon we are taking towards getting possession of t]iis country, which meas- 
ures, I am certain, will never subside whilst we encroach within the limits 
which you may recollect have been put under the proteetiotj of the King in the 
year 1726, and confirmed to them by him and his successors ever since and by 
the orders sent to the governors not to allow any one of his subjects settling 
thereon . . . but that it should remain their absolute proijerty." But, by the 
beginning of the American Revolution, so well had the British agents reconciled 
them to the rule of Great Britain tliat the Seneca, together with a large ma- 
jority of the people of the Six Nations, notwithstanding their pledges to the con- 
trary, reluctantly espoused the cause of the British against the colonies. Con- 
sequently they suffered retribution for their folly when Gen. Sullivan, in 1779. 
after defeating their warriors, burned their villages and destroyed their crops. 

There is no historical evidence that the Seneca who were on the Ohio and the 
s. shore of L. Erie in the 18th and 19th centuries were chiefly an outlying colony 
from the Iroquois tribe of that name dwelling in New York. The significant 
fact tliat in historical times their affiliations were never with the Iroquois, but 
rather with tribes usually hostile to them, is to be explained on the presump- 
tion that they were rather some remnant of a subjugated tribe dependent on 
the Seneca and dwelling on lands under the jurisdiction of their conquerors. It 
. is a fair inference that they were largely subjugated Erie and Conestoga. 

The earliest estimates of the numbers of the Seneca, in 1660 and 1677, give 
them about 5,000. Later estimates of the population are: 3,500 (1721) ; 1,750 
a736) ; 5,000 (1765); 3,250 (177S) ; 2,000 (1783); 3.000 (1783), and 1,780 
(1796). In 1825 those in New York were reported at 2,325. In 1850, according 
to Morgan, those in New York numbered 2,712, while about 210 more were on 
Grand River res. in Canada. In 1909 those in New York numbered 2,749 on the 
three reservations, which, with those on Grand r., Ontario, would give them 
a total of 2,962. The proportion of Seneca now among the 4.071 Iroquois at 
Caughnawaga, St Regis, and Lake of Two Mountains, Quebec, can not be esti- 
mated. 

Charactekization of Contents 

The Seneca material embodied in the following pages consists of 
two parts. 

Part 1 comprises the matter recorded in the field by the late Jere- 
miah Curtin in 1883, 1886, and 1887 on the Cattaraugus reservation, 
near Versailles, New York, including tales, legends, and myths, sev- 
eral being translations of texts belonging to this collection made by 
the editor. This work of Mr. Curtin represents in part the results 
of the first serious attempt to record with satisfactory fullness the 
folklore of the Seneca. 

The material consists largely of narratives or tales of fiction — 
naive productions of the story-teller's art which can lay no claim 
to be called myths, although undoubtedly they contain many things 
that characterize myths — narratives of the power and deeds of one 
or more of the personified active forces or powers immanent in and 



Hewitt] INTBODUCTION 49 

expressed by phenomena or processes of natin-e in human guise or in 
that of birds or beasts. They do not refer to the phenomena per- 
sonified as things unique, but as equaled or fully initiated by human 
personages made potent by orenda, or magic power, hence they 
describe a period long after the advent of man on earth, and in this 
respect do not exhibit the character of myths. 

Again, in some of the narratives the same incident or device ap- 
pears as common property ; that is to say, these several stories employ 
the same episode for the purpose of expansion and to glorify the hero 
as well as his prowess. An instance in point is that in which the hero 
himself, or others at his order, gathers the bones of the skeletons of 
other adventurous heroes like himself, who failed in the tests of 
orenda and so forfeited their lives to the challenger, and, hastily 
placing them in normal positions with respect to one another, quickens 
them by exclaiming, " This tall hickory tree will fall on you, brothers, 
unless you arise at once," while pushing against the tree itself. 
Sometimes it is a tall pine that so figures in these accounts. Again, 
a pupil of a sorcerer or a noted witch is forbidden to go in a certain 
direction, while permission is given to go in any other direction. 
But at a certain time the budding hero or champion wizard goes 
surreptitiously in the forbidden direction, and at once there is colli- 
sion between his orenda, or magic power, and that of the well-known 
wizards and sorcerers dwelling in that quarter. This pupil is usually 
the only living agent for the preservation of the orenda of some noted 
family of wizards or witches. The hero, after performing certain 
set tasks, overcomes the enemies of his family and then brings to life 
those of his kindred who 'failed in the deadly strife of orendas. 

The identifications and interpretative field notes accompanying 
Mr. Curtin's material by some mischance were not made a part of 
the present collection. Their loss, which has added greatly to the 
work of the editor, is unfortunate, as Mr. Curtin possessed in so 
marked a degree the power of seizing readily the motive and signifi- 
cance of a story that' his notes undoi.ljtedly would have supplied 
material for the intelligent explanation and analysis of the products 
of the Indian mind contained in this memoir. 

The texts recorded in the Seneca dialect by Mr. Curtin were very 
difficult to ^read, as they had been recorded with a lead pencil 
and had been carried from place to place until they were for the 
greater part almost illegible. The fact that these texts were the 
rough field notes of Mr. Curtin, unrevised and unedited, added to 
the difficulty of translating them. Fortunately, in editing a large 
portion of one of these manuscripts, the editor had the assistance of 
his niece. Miss Caroline G. C. Hewitt, who speaks fluently the Seneca 
dialect of the Iroquois languages. 
94615°— 18 i 



50 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ass.32 

Part 2 also consists of Seneca legends and myths, which are 
translations made expressly for this work from native texts recorded 
by Mr. Hewitt in the autumn of 1896. Two of the texts so trans- 
lated appear here, revised and edited, with a closely literal inter- 
linear translation in English. The matter of Part 2 constitutes 
about two-fifths of the whole, containing only 31 items, while there 
are 107 in Part 1; but the latter narratives are uniformly much 
longer than the former. 

The Seneca informants of Mr. Hewitt in the field were Mr. 
Truman Halftown, Mr. John Armstrong, and Chief Priest Henry 
Stevens, all of the Cattaraugus Reservation, N. Y. These worthy 
men, who have all passed away, were uniformly patient, kind, and 
interested. They were men whose faith in the religion of their 
ancestors ennobled them with good will, manliness, and a desire to 
serve. 

Special attention is drawn to tlie freedom of these Seneca narra- 
tives from coarseness of thought and expression, although in some 
respectable quarters obscenity seems to be regarded as a dominant 
characteristic of American Indian myths and legendary lore. This 
view is palpably erroneous and unjust, because it is founded on faulty 
and inadequate material ; it is, moreover, governed largely by the 
personal equation. 

To form an impartial and correct judgment of the moral tone of 
the myths and legends of the American Indian, a distinction must be 
made between myths and legends on the one hand and tales and 
stories which are related primarily for the indecent coarseness of 
their thought and diction on the other; for herein lies the line of 
demarcation between narratives in which the rare casual references to 
indelicate matters are wholly a secondary consideration and not the 
motives of the stories, and those ribald tales in which the evident 
motive is merely to pander to depraved taste by detailing the coarse, 
the vulgar, and the filthy in life. 

It is, indeed, a most unfortunate circumstance in the present study 
of the spoken literature of the North American Indians that the head- 
long haste and nervous zeal to obtain bulk rather than quality in 
collecting and recording it are unfavorable to the discovery and 
acquisition of the philosophic and the poetic legends and myths so 
sacred to these thoughtful people. The inevitable result of this 
method of research is the wholly erroneous view of the ethical char- 
acter of the myths and legends and stories of the American Indian, 
to which reference has already been made. The lamentable fact that 
large portions of some collections of so-called American Indian tales 
and narratives' consist for the greater part of coarse, obscene, and 
indelicate recitals in no wise shows that the coarse and the indelicate 
were the primary motives in the sacred lore of the people, but it does 
indicate the need of clean-minded collectors of these narratives, men 



CDRTI 
HEWITT 



^] INTRODUCTION 51 



who know that the obscene can not be the dominant theme of the 
legendary lore of any people. Such men will take the necessary time 
and trouble to become sufficiently acquainted with the people whose 
literature they desire to record to gain the confidence and good will 
of the teachers and the wise men and women of the community, 
because these are the only persons capable of giving anything like a 
trustworthy recital of the legendary and the poetic narratives and the 
sacred lore of their people. 

Should one attempt to acquire standard specimens of the litera- 
ture of the white people of America by consulting corner loafers and 
their ilk, thereby obtaining a mass of coarse and obscene tales and 
stories wholly misrepresenting the living thought of the great mass 
of the white people of the country, the procedure would in no wise 
differ, seemingly, from the usual course pursued by those who claim 
to be collecting the literature of the American Indian people by con- 
sulting immature youth, agency interpreters, and other uninformed 
persons, rather than by gaining the confidence of and consulting the 
native priests and shamans and statesmen. 

To claim that in American Indian communities their story-tellers, 
owing to alleged Christian influence, are editing the mythic tales 
and legends of their people into a higher moral tone is specious and is 
a sop thrown to religious prejudice for the purpose of giving color 
to the defense of an erroneous view of the moral tone of such myths 
and legends. 

It is notorious that in this transition period of American Indian 
life the frontiersman and the trader on the borderland have not been 
in general of such moral character as to reflect the highest ideals iu 
thought or action. Few genuine native legends and myths show 
any so-called " moral " revision from contact with " white people." It 
is, of course, undeniable that the coarse, the rude, and the vulgar in 
word, thought, and deed are very real and ever-present elements iji 
the life of every so-called Christian community; and they are present 
in every other community. B>it this fact does not at all argue that it 
is useful to collect and record in detail the narratives of these in- 
decent aspects of life in any community, because the wholesome, the 
instructive, and the poetic and beautiful are, forsooth, far more diffi- 
cult to obtain. 

Except in the case of novices in the work it may be stated that 
the moral tone or quality of the mythic and legendary material col- 
lected in any community is measurably an unconscious reflex of the 
mental and moral attitude of the collector toward the high ideals 
of the race. 

It is a pleasure to make reference here to the work of Mr. Frank 
Hamilton Cushing, Dr. Washington Matthews, and Mr. Jeremiah 
Curtin. who, in order to study with discrimination and sympathy the 



52 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

spoken literature of the American Indians, took the necessary trouble 
to learn the motif of the narratives of mythic and legendary origin 
of these people; hence they did not feel it incumbent upon them to 
apologize for the moral tone of the legends and myths they recorded 
and published, for their own mental attitude toward the wholesome, 
the worthy, and the noble was such as to enable them to discover and 
to appreciate the same qualities in the thinking of the people they 
studied. To expound like the priest, to speak like the prophet, and 
to think like the myth-maker, were among the gifts of these men 
which enabled them to understand the motives underlying the myths 
and legends of the tribal men of the world, while they were at the 
same time fully alive to the scientific use and value of these same 
poetic narratives when analyzed and interpreted .sympathetically. 

j\Ir. Curtin obtained his Seneca material from the following per- 
sons of the Seneca tribe, many of whom have since died: Abraham 
Johnny-John, Solomon O'Bail, George Titus, John Armstrong, 
Zachariah Jimeson, Andrew Fox, Henry Jacob, Henry Silverheels, 
Peter White, Black Chief, and Phoebe Logan. He recorded an 
extensive vocabulary of the Seneca, with which he had become 
familiar. by intensive study of its structure. 

Mr. Curtin, with Mie mind of a master, fully grasped the impor- 
tance and the paramount significance of the intelligent collection, 
and the deeper sympathetic study, of legends and myths in general, 
and of those of the American Indians in particular, in the final estab- 
lishment of the science of mythology. 

To the editor it is one of the delightful memories of his early offi- 
cial life to recall the many instructive hours spent with Mr. Curtin 
in discussing the larger significance and the deeper implications 
which are found in the intelligent study and interpretation of legends, 
epics, and myths — the highest type of poetic and creative composi- 
tion. And for this reason he has so freely cited from the writings 
of Mr. Curtin the meaning and the value which such a study and 
analysis had for Mr. Curtin and has for those who like him will 
fully appreciate that " the Indian tales reveal to us a whole system 
of religion, philosophy, and social polity. . . . the wdiole mental 
and social life of the race to which they belong is evident in them." 

The following quotations give all too briefly, perhaps, his philo- 
sophic views on these questions in his own deft, inimitable way. It is 
believed that these citations will enable the reader and the student to 
gain some clear idea of the pregnant lessons Mr. Curtin drew from 
the analysis and interpretation of the legends and myths which he 
recorded, as well as of his method of studying and expounding them. 
The Seneca collection herewith presented forms only a small portion 
of his recorded mythic material. 

A few tens of years ago it was all-important to understand and explain the 
brotherhood and blood-bond of Aryan nations, and their relation to the Semitic. 



CURT 
HEW 



j^^] INTRODUCTION 53 



race; to discover and set forth the ineaiiing of that which in mental work, 
historic strivings, and spiritual ideals ties the historic nations to one another. 
At the present time this work is done, if not completely, at least measurably 
well, and a new work awaits us, to demonstrate that there is a higher and 
a mit;htier bond, the relationship of created things with one another, and their 
inseverable connection with That which some men reverence as God, but which 
other men call the Unknowable, the Unseen. 

This new work, which is the necessary continuation of the first, and which 
alone can give it completeness and significance, will be achie\-fed when we have 
established the science of mythology.^ 

Again, he asks : " How is this science from whicli men may receive 
such service to be founded?" 

On this point Mr. Curtin is clear and instructive, maintaining that 
such a science of mythology can be founded — 

In one way alone : by obtaining from races outside of the Aryan and Semitic 
their myths, their beliefs, their view of the world ; this done, the rest will follow 
as a result of intelligent labor. But the great battle is in the tirst part of the 
work, for the inherent difficulty of the task has been increased by Europeans, 
who have exterminated great numbers among the best primitive races, partially 
civilized or rather degraded others, and rendered the remainder distrustful and 
not easily approached on the subject of their myths and ethnic beliefs. 

Its weightiest service will be rendered in the domain of religion, for without 
mythology there can be no thorough understanding of any religion on earth, 
either in its inception or its growth.' 

The next citation shows Mr. Curtin's complete mastery of the 
subject in hand, and his conclusions are well worth the careful con- 
sideration of every student of mythic and legendary lore. In refer- 
ence to the collection of myths and tales and beliefs he presents the 
following wise conclusions: 

There is everywhere a sort of selvage of short tales and anecdotes, small 
information about ghosts and snakes, among all these races, which are easily 
obtained, and most Europeans seem to think that when they have collected srnne 
of these trivial things they have all that the given people possess. But they are 
greatly mistaken. All these people have something letter. There was not a 
single stock of Indians in America which did not posses.s, in beautiful forms, the 
elements of an extensive literature with a religion and philosophy which would 
have thrown light on many beginnings of Aryan and Semitic thought, a 
knowledge of which in so many ca.ses is now lost to us, but which we hope to 
recover in time ... if civilized men instead of slaying " savages," directly 
and indirectly, will treat them as human beings, and not add to the labor of those 
workers who in the near future will surely endeavor, singly or in small groups, 
to study the chief primitive races of the earth and win from them, not short 
insignificant odds and ends of information but great masses of material; 
. . . these races possess in large volume some of the most beautiful produc- 
tions of the human mind, and facts that are not merely of great, but of unique, 
value.' 

' Curtin, Jeremiah, Myths and Folk-Tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and Magyars, 
p. vil, Boston, 1890. 
= Ibld.. p. X. 
• Ibid., pp. x-xl. 



54 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

But we have no tale in which it is clear who all the characters are: the 
modifying influences were too great and long-continued to permit that. Though 
myth-tales are, perhaps, more interesting ... in their pre.sent form, they 
will have not their full interest for science till it is shown who most of the 
actors are under their disguises. 

This is the nearest task of mythology. 

There are masterpieces in literature filled iciih myths, inspired with myth 
conceptions of many kinds, simply colored by the life of the time and the 
nations among which these masterpieces were written and moulded to shape 
by artists, made strong from the spirit of great, simple people, as unknown to 
us as the nameless heroes who perished before Agamemnon. How much 
mythology is there in the Iliad and the Odyssey, in the /Eneid, In the Divine 
Comedy of Dante, in the works of the other three great Italian poets? How 
much in Paradi.se Lost? How could "King Lear" and "Midsummer Night's 
Dream," or the " Idylls of the King," have been written without Keltic mythol- 
ogy? Many of these literary masterpieces have not merely myths in their com- 
position as a sentence has words, but the earlier ones are enlarged or modified 
myth-tales of those periods, while the later ones are largely modeled on and 
inspired by the earlier.^ 

Again he declares : 

It .should be remembered that whatever be the names of the myth-tale heroes 
at present, the original heroes were not human. They were not men and 
women, though in most cases ^he present heroes or heroines bear the names 
of men and women, or children ; they perform deeds which no man could per- 
form, which only one of the forces of Nature could perform, if it had the 
volition and desires of a per.son. This is the great cause of wonderful deeds in 
myth-tales.' 

With reference to the work already done in American Indian 
mythology. Mr. Curtin remarks: 

We have now in North America a number of groups of tales obtained from 
the Indians which, when considered together, illustrate and supplement one 
another ; they constitute, in fact, a whole system. These tales we may describe as 
forming collectively the creation myth of the New World. . . . In some cases, 
simple and transparent, it is not difficult to recognize the heroes ; they are 
distinguishable at once either by their names or their actions or both. In other 
cases these tales are more involved, and the heroes are not so easily known, 
becau.se they are concealed by names and epithets. Taken as a whole, however, 
the Indian tales are remarkably ^lear.' 

As to the content of these American Indian tales and legends, Mr. 
Curtin says ; 

What is the substance and sen.se of these Indian tales, of what do they treat? 
To begin with, they give an account of how the present order of things arose in 
the world, and are taken up with the exploits, adventures, and struggles of 
various elements, animals, birds, reptiles, Insects, plants, rocks, and other 
objects before they became what they are. . . . According to the earliest 
tales of North America, this world was occupied, prior to the appearance of 
man. by beings called variously " the first people," " the outside people." or 
simply " people," — the same term in all cases being used for people that is 
applied to Indians at present. 

1 Curtin, .Jeremiah. Myths and Folk-Tales of the Russians, Western Slavs, and Magyars, 
p. i.\, Boston, 1890. 

2 Ibid., p. xvii. 

•Curtin, Jeremiah. Hero-Tales of Ireland, pp. ix, x Boston, 1894. 



hbwi?t] introduction 55 

These people, who were very inimerous, lived together for ages in harmony. 
There were no collisions among them, no disputes during that period; all were 
in perfect accord. In some mysterious fashion, however, each individual was 
changing imperceptibly ; an internal movement was going on. At last a time 
came when the differences were sufficient to cause conflict, except in the case 
of a group to be mentioned hereafter, and struggles began. These struggles 
were gigantic, for the " fir.st people"' had mighty power; they had also won- 
derful ix>rception and knowledge. They felt the approach of friends or enemies 
even at a distance; they knew the thought in another's heart. If one of them 
expressed a wish, it was accomplished immediately ; nay, if he even thought of 
a thing, it wa.s there before hira. Endowed with such powers and qualities, it 
would seem that their struggles would be endless and indecisive; but such was 
not the case. Though opponents might be equally dextrous, and have the power 
o" the wish or the word in a similar degree, one of them would conquer in the 
end through wishing for more effective and better things, and thus become the 
hero of a higher cause; that is, a cause from whicli benefit would accrue to 
mankind, the coming race.' 

. . . Among living creatures, we are not to reckon man, for man does not 
appear in any of those myth tales; they relate solely to extra-human exist- 
ences, and describe the battle and agony of creation, not the adventures of 
anything in tlie world since it received its present form and office. According 
to popular modes of thought and speech, all this would be termed the fall of 
the gods, for the "first people" of the Indian tales correspond to the earliest 
gods of other races.' 

In the theory of spiritual evolution, worked out by the aboriginal mind of 
America, all kinds of moral quality and character are represented ns coming 
from an internal movement through which the latent, unevolved personality of 
each individual of these " first people," or gods, is produced. Once that per- 
soiKility is produce<l. every species of dramatic situation and tragic catastJ^oiihe 
follows as an inevitable sequence. There is no more peace after that ; there 
are only collisions followed by combats which are continued by the gods till 
they are turned into all the thing.s, animal, vegetable, and mineral — which are 
either useful or harmful to man, and thus creation is accomplished. During 
the period of struggles, the gods organize institutions, social and religious, ac- 
cording to which they live. These are bequeathed to man ; and nothing that an 
Indian has is of human invention, all is divine. An avowed innovation, any- 
thing that we call reform, anything invented by man, would be looked on as 
sacrilege, a terrible, an inexpiable crime. The Indian lives in a world prepared 
b.v the gods, and follows in their footsteps — that is the only moralit.v, tlie one 
pure and hol.y religion.' 

This creation myth of the New World is a wtfrk of great value, for by aid of 
it we can bring order Into mythology, and reconstruct, at least in outline, and 
provisionnlly. that early system of belief which was common to all races: a 
system which, though expressed in many languages and in endlessly varying 
det.-iils, has one meaning, and was. in the fullest sense of the word, one — a 
religion truly catholic and oecumenical, for it was believed in by all people, 
wherever resident, and believed in with a vividness of faith, and a sincerity of 
attachment, which no civilized man can even Imagine, unless he has had long 
experience of primitive races.* 

' Curtin, Jeremiah, Hero-Tales of Ireland, pp. x, xl, Boston, 1894. 
"Ibid., p. xi. , 

• Ibid., pp. xli, xill. 
♦Ibid., p. xili. 



56 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

The war between the gods continued till it ijroduced on land, in the water, 
and the air, all creatures that move, and all plants that grow. There is not a 
beast, bird, fish, reptile. Insect, or plant which is not a fallen divinity ; and for 
every one noted there is a story of its previous existence. 

This transformation of the former people, or divinities, of America was 
finished just before the present race of men — that is. the Indians — appeared.' 

In .some mylhologies a few persouafies who are left unchanged at the eve of 
man's coming transform themselves voluntarily. The details of the change vary 
from tribe to tribe, but in all it takes place in some de.scribed way, and forms 
part of the general change, or metamorphosis, which is the vital element in the 
American system. In many, perhaps in all, the mythologies, there is an account 
of how some of the former people, or gods, instead of fighting and taking part 
in the struggle of creation and being transformed, retained their original char- 
acter, and either went above the sky or sailed away westward to where the 
sky comes down, and passed out under it, and bi'.\ond, to a pleasant region where 
they live ii\ delight. This is that coutingent to which I have referred, that part 
of the " first people " in which no passion was developed ; they reuia*ied in 
primitive simplicity, undifferentiated, and are happy at present. They corre- 
spond to those gods of classic antiquity who enjoyed themselves apart, and took 
no interest whatever in the sufferings or the joys of mankind.' 

Everything in nature had a tale of its own, if some one would but tell it. 
and during the epoch of constructive power in the race, — the epoch when lan- 
guages were built up and great stories made, — few things of importance to 
people of that time were left unconsidered; hence there was among the Indians 
of America a volume of tales as immense, one might say, as an ocean river. 
This statement I make in view of materials which I have gathered myself, and 
which are still unpublished, — materials which, though voluminous, are com- 
paratively meager, merely a hint of what in some tribes was lost, and of what 
in others is still uncollected. . . . 

From what is known of the mind of antiquity, and from what data we have 
touching savage life in the present, we may affirm as a theory that primitive 
beliefs in all places are of the same system essentially as the American. In 
that system, every individual existence beyond man is a divinity, but a divinity 
under sentence, — a divinity weighed down by fate, a divinity with a history 
behind it, a history which is tragedy or comedy as the case may be. These 
histories extend along the whole line of experience, and include every combina- 
tion conceivable to primitive man.' 

During eight years of investigation among Indian tribes in North America, 
I obtained the various parts of that Creation myth mentioned in this intro- 
duction, from tribes that were remote from one another, and in different 
degress of development. Such tales I found in the east, in the central regions, 
and finally in California and Oregon. Over this space, the extreme points of 
which are 3,000 miles apart, each tribe has the Creation myth, — one portion 
being brought out with special emphasis in one tribe, and another por- 
tion in a different one. In tribes least developed, the earliest tales are very 
distinct, and specially valuable on some points relating to the origin and fall 
of the gods. Materials from the extreme west are more archaic and simple 
than those of the east. In fact the two regions present the two extremes, 
in North America, of least developed and most developed aboriginal thought. 
In this is their interest. They form one complete .system.* 

1 c'urtln, Jeremiah, Hero-Tales of Ireland, p. liv, Boston, 1894. 

'Ihld., p. XV. 

" Ibid., p. xvi. 

« Ibid., pp. xllx-1. 



HEivm] INTRODUCTION 57 

To sum up, we may say, that the Indian tales reveal to us a whole system of 
religion, philosophy, and social polity. . . . 

Those tales form a complete series. The whole mental and social life of the 
race to which they belong is evident in them.' 

The results to be obtained from a comparison of systems of thought like the 
Indian and the Gaelic would be great, if made thoroughly. If extended to all 
races, such a comparison would render possible a history of the human mind 
in a form ,s-uch as few meh at present even dream of, — a history with a basis as 
firm as that which lies under geology. . . . We must make large additions 
indeed to our knowledge of primitive peoples. We must complete the work 
begun in America. . . . The undertaking is arduous, and there is need to 
engage in it promptly. The forces of civilized society, at present, are destroying 
on all sides, not saving that which is precious in primitive people. Civilized 
society supposes that man, in an early degree of development, should be stripped 
of all that he owns, both material and mental, and then be refashioned to 
serve the society that stripped him. If he will not yield to the stripping and 
training, then slay him.' , 

In the United States, little was accomplished till recent years; of late, how- 
ever, public interest has been roused somewhat, and, since Major Powell entered 
the field, and l)ecame Director of the Bureau of Ethnology, more has been done 
in studying the native races of America than had been done from the discovery 
of the country up to that time." 

Of course there is no true information in the American ethnic religion as to 
the- real changes which affected the world around us; but there is in it, as in 
all systems like it. true information regarding the history of the human mind. 
Every ethnic religion gives us documentary evidence. It .gives us positive facts 
which, in their own sphere, are as true as are facts of geology in the history 
of the earth's crust and surface. They do not tell us what took place in the 
world without, in the physical universe, they had no means of doing so; but 
they do tell us what took place at certain periods in the world of mind, in the 
interior of man.' 

An ethnic or primitive religion is one which belongs to people of one blood 
and language, people who increased and developed together with the beliefs 
of every sort which belong to them. Such a religion includes every species of 
knowledge, every kind of custom, institution, and art. Every aboriginal nation 
or human brood has its gods. All people of one blood and origin are under the 
immediate care and supervision of their gods, and preserve continual communi- 
cation and converse with them. According to their own beliefs, such people 
received from their gods all that they have, all that they practice, all that they 
know. Such people, while their blood is unmixed and their society unconquered, 
adhere to their gods with the utmost fidelity. 

The bonds which connect a nation with its gods, bonds of faith, and those 
which connect the individuals of that nation with one another, bonds of blood, 
are the .strongest known to primitive man, and are the only social bonds in 
prehistoric ages.' 

A good deal has been given to the world of late on mythology by able writers 
who with good materials would attain good results; but as the materials at 
their disposal are faulty, much of their work with all its cleverness is mainly a 
per.sistent pouring of the empty into the void. 

» CurtlD, Jeremiah, Hero-Tales of Ireland, p. xlviii, Boston, 1894. 

2 Ibid., pp. xlvl. .tlvii. 

» Curtin, Jeremiah, Creation Myths o£ Primitive America, pp. xxxl-xxxil, Boston, 1898. 

•Ibid., p. xxxil. 



58 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. inn. 32 

We have seen attempts made to show that real gods have been developed by 
savage men from their own dead savage chiefs. Such a thing has never been 
done since the human race began, and it could never have been imagined by any 
man who knew the ideas of primitive races from actual experience or from com- 
petent testimony. The most striking thing in all savage belief is the low esti- 
mate put on man when unaided by divine, uncreated power. In Indian belief 
every object in the universe Is divine exce|)t man.' . . . 

Vegetable gods, so called, have been scoffed at by writers on mythology. The 
scoff is baseless, for the first people were turned, or turned themselves, into 
trees and various plants as frequently as into bea.sts and other creatures. Maize 
or Indian corn is a transformed god who gave hini.self to be eaten to save man 
from hunger and death. When Spanish priests saw little cakes of meal eaten 
ceremonially by Indians, and when the latter informed them rhat they were 
eating their god, the good priests thought this a diabolical mockery of the 
Holy Sacrament, and a bla.sphemous trick of Satan to ruin poor ignorant 
Indians. 

•I have a myth in which the main character is a violent and cruel old person- 
age who is merciless and faith-breaking, who does no end of damage till he is 
cornered at last by a good hero and turned into the 'wild parsnip. Before 
tran.sformatlon this oid par.snip could travel swiftly, but now he must stay in 
one place, and of course kills people only when they eat him. 

The treasure saved to science by the primitive race of America is unique in 
tralue and high significance. The first result from it is to carry us back through 
untold centuries to that epoch when man made the earliest collective and con- 
sistent explanation of this nniverse and its origin. 

Occupying this vantage-ground, we can now throw a flood of light on all those 
mythologies and ethnic religions or systems of thought from which are Io.st in 
part, great or small, the materials needed to prove the foundation and begin- 
nings of each of them. In this condition are all ancient recorded religions, 
whether of Greece. Rome, Egypt, Chaldea, Persia, or India.' 

Again, in speaking of the first people, the ancients, or the man- 
ieings of the oldest myth, or rather cycle of myths, in America. Mr. 
Curtin continues his exposition of the significance of these poetic 
figures : 

After they had lived on an indefinite period, they appear as a vast number 
of gi'oups, which form two camps, which may be called the good and the bad. 
In the good camp are the persons who originate all the different kinds of 
food, establish all institutions, arts, games, amu.sements, dances, and religious 
ceremonies for the coming race. 

In the other camp are cunning, deceitful beings, ferocious and hungry man- 
eaters — the harmful powers of every description. The heroes of the good 
camp overcome these one after another by stratagem, superior skill, swiftness, 
or the use of the nil-powerful wish: but they are immortal, and. though over- 
come, can not be destroyed, . . . 

When the pre.sent race of men (that is. Indians) appear on the scene, the 
people of the previous order of affairs have vanished. One division, vast in 
number, a part of the good and all the bad ones, have become the beasts, birds, 
fishes, reptiles, insects, plants, stones, cold, heat, light, darkness, fire, rain, 
snow, earthquake, sun, moon, stgrs — have become, in fact, every living thing, 
object, agency, phenomenon, process, and power outside of raan. Another 

* Curtin, Jeremiah, Creation Myths of Primitive America, pp. xxxvii-xxxviii, Boston, 
1S98. 

- Ibid., pp. xxxvlil-xxxlx. 



CURTI 

HEWITT 



j^] INTRODUCTION 59 



party much smaller in number, who succeeded in avoiding entanglement in the 
struggle of preparing the world for man, left the earth. According to some 
myths they went beyond the sky to the upper land ; according to others they 
sailed in boats over the ocean to the West — sailed till they went out beyond the 
setting sun, beyond the line where the sky touches the earth. There they are 
living now free from pain, disease, and death, which came into the world just 
before they left, but before the coming of man and through the agency of this 
first people. . . . 

Tliis earliest American myth cycle really describes a period in the beginning 
of which all things — and there was no thing then which was not a person — 
lived in company without danger to each other or trouble. This was the period 
of primasval innocence, of which we hear so many echoes in tradition and 
early literature, when that infinite variety of character and quality now 
manifest in the universe was still dormant and hidden, practically uncre- 
ated. This was the " golden age " of so many mythologies — the " golden age " 
dreamed of so often, but never seen by mortal man ; a period when, in their 
original form and power, the panther and the deer, the wolf and the antelope, 
lay down together, when the rattlesnake was as harmless as the rabbit, when 
trees could talk and flowers sing, when both could move as nimbly as the 
swiftest on earth. 

Such, in a sketch exceedingly meager and imperfect, a hint rather than a 
sketch, is the first great cycle of American mythology — the creation-myth of 
the New World. From this cycle are borrowed the characters and machinery 
for myths of later construction and stories of inferior importance ; myths 
relating to the action of all observed forces and phenomena ; struggles of the 
seasons, winds, light and darkness; and stories in great numbers containing 
adventures without end of the present animals, birds, reptiles, and insects — 
l)eople of the formsr world in their fallen state. . . . 

To whatever race they may belong, the earliest myths, whether of ancient 
record or recent collection, point with unerring indication to the same source 
as those of America, for the one rea.son that there is no other source. The 
personages of any given body of myths are such manifestations of force in the 
world around them, or the result of such manifestations, as the ancient myth- 
makers observed ; and whether they went backwards or forwards, these were 
the only personages possible to them, because they were the only personages 
accessible to their senses or conceivable to their minds. . . . 

Since they had passions varying like those of men, the myth-makers narrate 
the origin of these passions, and carried their personages back to a period of 
peaceful and innocent chaos, when there was no motive as yet in existence. 
After a while the shock came. The motive appeared in the form of revenge 
for acts done through cupidity or ignorance ; strife began, and never left the 
world of the gods till one quota of them was turned into animals,, plants, 
heavenly bodies, everything in the universe, and the other went away unchanged 
to a place of happy enjoyment. 

All myths have the same origin, and all run parallel up to a certain point, 
which may be taken as the point to which the least-developed people have 
risen.' 

And Mr. Curtin further says: 

At that period the earth . . . was occupied by personages who are called 
people, though it is well understood at all times that they were not human; 
they were persons, individuals." 



> Curtin, Jeremiah Myths and Polk-Lore of Ireland, pp. 22-27, Boston, 1890. 
»Ibld.. p. 22. 



60. SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. a.nn. 32 

To trace the ancestral sources of a people's thought and character, 
a careful and critical study of the myths, and later of the mythology 
of that people, first exclusively and then comparatively, is required. 
This study deals with ideas and concepts expressed by three well- 
known Greek terms, mythos, epos, and logos, and also with those 
expressed by the term resulting from the combination of the first 
and the last of these words. These are among many words of human 
speech which comprise all human experience and history. It is re- 
markable also that each may be translated into English by the term 
" word." 

The word " mythology " is a philosophic term composed of two 
very interesting and instructive Greek words, mythos and logos. 

The first term, mythos, denoted whatever was thoughtfully ut- 
tered by the mouth of savage and barbaric men — the expression of 
thought which had been shut in to mature^a story of prehistoric 
time, a naive, creative concept stated in terms of human life and 
activity — a poem. In matters of religion and cosmogony such an 
utterance was final and conclusive to those men. 

The second term, logos, having at the beginning approximately 
the same meaning as myfhos, became in Greek philosophic think- 
ing the symbol or expression of the internal constitution as well as 
the external form and sign of thought, and so became "the expres- 
sion of exact thought — . . . exact because it corresponds to uni- 
versal and unchanging principles," reaching '' its highest exalta- 
tion in becoming not only reason in man but the reason in the uni- 
verse — the Divine Logos, the thought of God, the Son of God, God 
himself" (Curtin). The logos is thus the expression of the philoso- 
phy of men measurably cultured; it is the intelligent exegesis of the 
content of the mythos in terms of objective and subjective reality; 
it is scientific because it is logical ; it is the later literary criticism — 
the analytic and synthetic treatment of myths and epics. So, in the 
experience of every people having an ethnic past, mythos and logos 
represent two well-defined stages of human thought — the naive and 
the philosophic — and also the elder time and the modern. So myth- 
ology may be defined as the science or the logic of the myth; it 
belongs to times of relatively high culture and does not flourish in 
savagery, for savages have only myths. It may be well to note 
that a third stage of thought is expressed in the Greek term epos, 
which is the adornment or garbing and dramatizing of the myth 
concepts in poetic form, in story, saga, and legend — the epic. 

Only modern research with its critical exegesis and sympathetic 
interpretation brings down the study of the concepts of the myths 
of the fathers measurably to the character of a science. 

The highest type of poetry expresses itself in myth, in the 
epos, and in the logos. For men of undeveloped thought, of inchoate 



HE^S] INTRODUCTION 61 

mentation, this is the mental jirocess through which they dimly 
apprehend the significance of the complex and closely interrelated 
phenomena of life and of environing nature, and the medium by 
which tiiey harmonize the ceaseless functioning of these with their 
own experience, with the activity of their own subconscious mind, and 
with the divine promptings and visions vouchsafed them by the 
dawn of their own superconscious intellect. 

The initial step of the process is the ingenuous act of the imagina- 
tion in personifying, yea, in ideally humanizing, the bodies, elements, 
and forces of environing nature ; as, for instance, the picturing by the 
Iroquois and their neighbors, the Algonquian, of snow as the living 
body of a man formed by the God of Winter, whose breath was potent 
enough to drive animals and birds into their winter retreats and some 
even into hibernation, represented as the hiding of the animals from 
his brother, the Master or God of Life. 

The next step in the process is the socialization of this vast com- 
pany — the imputation of life, soul, purpose, and a rational role to 
them constitutes the epic, which is also the poet's handiwork. 

As the basis of religious expression, Seneca-Iroquoian myths and 
legends, in common with those of all other men, are to most people 
the empty tales of superstition, the foundations of idolatry, be- 
cause its gods and deities, forsooth, have never actually existed. 
But myths are fictitious only in form and dress, while the_v are true 
in matter and spirit, for truth is congruity between reason and 
objects, and hence is eternal and universal. 

The human side of these personifit'ations of the processes and 
phenomena of nature in some instances has become so real and so 
natural that these beings no longer act or function in terms of the 
processes of nature only, but as the thaumaturgic fetishes of potent 
sorcerers, perfoT'ming wonderful feats of orenda, as they are repre- 
sented as doing in a large number of these- narratives. Now, these 
accounts are certainly not myths and are not legends in the true sense 
of the term, but are, rather, fictitious narratives or tales of reputed 
individual human achievement, quite incredible, of course, as authen- 
tic acts of mankind. They center about the reputed atfairs of a 
hmnan being, or do so at least in the view of the modern story-teller. 

In the collection of Seneca narratives of Mr. Curtin eight relate 
to the Genonsgwa (the Stone Coats or Stone Giants), six to Hi"no"' 
(Hinon) or the Thunder People, six to" the Dagwanoenyent or 
Whirlwind People, five to the Shagodiioweq or Wind People, and 
three to the Djogeon or Dwarf People. It is probable that the two 
groups of " wind " peoples originally arose from a single personage. 
From single personages like Hi"no°' or Thunder, Shagodiioweq or 
the Wind, and Dagwanoenyent or the Cyclone or Whirlwind, the 



62 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

story-tellers of to-day have created large bodies of fictitious people, 
representing a reversal of the original process by which the first 
great concepts were formed. 

But truth seemingly was not readily appreciable by primal men 
until it was dramatized in saga, in legend, and in myth, in formulas, 
rites, ceremonies, customs, and material symbols based on those nar- 
ratives; in short, it had to be couched in terms of human expression 
ond activity. These symbols and figurative expressions bore the 
fashion and impress of the time and the place, and so before truth so 
dramatized can be fully understood it must be carefully freed from 
the garb and trappings of local and temporal use and need; in brief, 
the literal unreality of myth must be lifted from the substantive and 
the spiritual realities it symbolizes. 

And. for this reason, a deity embodying or representing one of 
the great recurrent processes of nature or one of the seemingly 
changeless features of the universe is something vastly more than 
a mere figment of the human brain : for, although conceived in terms 
of man, the " deity '' in his own sphere and function is limitless in 
power, incomprehensible in mode of life and action, and abides with- 
out beginning of days or end of years — properties which make the 
god divine and infinitely superior to man, the creature of divine 
power. 

One of the fundamental teachings of the study of the myths of 
the American Indians is that the so-called Genesis or Creation myths 
relate the activities and exploits, in more or less detail, of the "elder 
people," the " first people," whom men later call the gods. Rightly 
understood and sympathetically conceived, these events are not predi- 
cated of human beings as such. These narrations explain in just 
what manner the present order of things in nature arose; they 
detail what took place in a condition of things different from the 
present, and which were, in the minds of their relators, the neces- 
sary antecedent processes resulting in the establishment of the pres- 
ent order of nature. They treat only of the "first people." None 
relate to human beings and none treat of things done since man 
appeared on earth. 

Human in form and in feeling, and yet most divine, were the gods 
and deities of the ancient Seneca and the other Iroquoian peoples. 
While the divine social and political organization was necessarily for 
psychological reasons a' close reflex or replica of the human, and 
although both gods and man derived descent from an original first 
parent, yet the first divine ancestor was a self-existing god, and the 
first man was the creature of one of these divine Powers. 

The expression of the mythic — the cosmogonic, the cosmologic — in 
terms of human function and attribute and activity is well illus- 
trated in the legends and myths of the Iroquoian peoples. In these 



Hewitt] INTRODUCTION 63 

sagas the personifications of the elements and forces of nature are 
chissified as human by the use of the term on'gwe, " a human 
being or mankind" (for the word has both a singular and a plural 
signification), to designate them. 

The task of classifying these narratives, even tentatively, is not an 
easy one, for the proportion of these stories which seem to be unques- 
tionably fiction to those which are myths t-nd legends is relatively 
mucli larger than might be suspected without some investigation. It 
is clearly wrong to call everything legend or myth when the evidence 
from the facts seems to forbid such action. For it is evident that 
very many of the narratives are fiction — stories composed and related 
to amuse, to mystify, or to glorify some hero, or perhaps to spread 
the fame of some noted sorcerer and his fetishes. 

The setting and the framework of the narrative or story may be 
laken from a myth and one or more myth episodes incorporated in it. 
but the result is a fabrication because it does not rest on facts of 
human experience. 

Now, for example, the narratives concerning the so-called Stone 
Coats, Stone Giants, or the Genonsgwa are not myths but legends. 
These beings do not figure in the Creation Myth of the Iroquois, but 
are a brood of beings whose connection with Stone is due to false 
etymology of a proper name in a myth.' ■ This is an interesting and 
instructive example of forgotten derivations of words and names 
!ind the resultant new conceptions. 

In the Genesis myth of the Iroquoian peoples the Winter Season, 
by personification, was placed in the class of man-beings with the 
name, " He-who-is-clad-in-ice," or " He-who-is-ice-clad." Now it so 
happens that the word for ice and for chert or flint stone is derived 
from a common stem whose fundamental meaning is " glare," " crys- 
tal," or " what is ice-like." But the myth-tellers, in order to add an 
air of the mystical to their recital, did not fail to play on the double 
meaning of the word for ice. and so represented the Winter Man- 
being as " The Flint-clad Man-being " rather than as " The Ice-clad 
Man-being." And the results of Winter's cold and frost were told in 
terms of flint or chert stone, and so bergs and cakes and blocks of 
ice became in the narration objects of flint and chert stone. Winter's 
cold is conveyed from place to place by means of cakes and bergs 
of ice, which are transformed by the poet into canoes of flint or stone. 
And in time the stone canoe is transferred fiom m3'th to the realm of 
fiction and legend to glorify the fame of some human hero. 

And in the thinking of the Iroquois the Flint-clad Man-being 
became separated and distinct from the Man-being of the Winter. 

' For nn extended etymoloRio demonstrntlon of the facts stated In the text, consnlt 
articles Tawiskaron and Nanabozho by the editor in the Handbook of American Indians 
{Bulletin SO of the Bureau of American HtlinuUiny). 



64 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth ann. 32 

At this point the fictitious Man-being who was Stone-clad parted 
company forever with the pei'sonified nature force or process tliat 
was frost-bearing and ice-chid. Tlie former was gradually reduced 
to a peculiar species of mankind — the stone giant, for he was repre- 
sented as stone-clad, while the latter I'etained his first estate as one 
of the chief characters in the Genesis mj'th of the Ii-oriuoian peoples. 

The ordinary Iroquoian concept of the Stone Coat or Stone Giant 
indicates, to the student at least, that the Winter God, the Great 
Frost Giant of the common Iroquoian Genesis myth, was its source. 
Aside from the evident etymologic connection, the most significant 
feature is the constant tradition that the home land of these anthro- 
poid monsters is in the regions of the north where this same authority 
usually places the burial place of the Winter God after his defeat and 
death at the hands of his twin brother, the Life God, sometimes 
called the Master of Life. 

The tales which relate how the Stone Coat people are made from 
perverse men and women first by carefully covering the body with 
pitch and then by rolling and wallowing in sand and down sand 
banks repeatedly, shows how utterly forgotten is the true source of 
this interesting concept among the .story tellers and their hearers. 
There is no doubt that the original " Stone Coat " was the " Ice-Clad 
Winter God." In the Curtin collection there are eight stories which 
refer to the Genonsgwa, or Stone Coats, sometimes called Stone 
Giants, but there is nothing in them to connect these peculiar ficti- 
tious monsters with the original conception. In none are the opera- 
tions of the winter process predicated of these fictitious beings. They 
are merely exaggerated human figures and not symbols of a process 
of nature > their deeds are the deeds of men, and are not the acts of 
a process of nature expressed in terms of human activity. 

And thus is founded the race of the Stone Giants or Stone Coats, or 
more popularly the Giants. When once these fictitious beings were 
regarded as human monsters they soon became confused with cruel 
hermits and bloodthirsty sorcerers who because of evil tastes 
were cannibals and dwelt apart from the habitations of men, who 
shunned and feared them, and the tales about them became narra- 
tives that do not detail the activities of the Winter God — the person!-, 
fied process of nature; and so. like their human prototypes, they 
increased and multiplied mightily, and so were as numerous as the 
leaA'es on the trees. 

The persons or figures produced by the attribution of human life 
and mind to all objective and subjective things were, by virtue of the 
reality of the elements they embodied, the deities or the gods of this 
system of thought. In brief, they were composed of both the meta- 
morphosed and of the imchanged first or ancient people who in dis- 
tinctive character were conceived of- as the formal and outward ex- 



CUKTI 
HEWITT 



^] INTRODUCTION 65 



pression of human mind. In the course of time these deities or guds 
are said to have taught their people the arts and crafts and the ele- 
ments of their culture and their faith, thus revealing their will and 
the things which were to be in the future. This divine Icnowledge, 
this wisdom of the gods, was obtained or revealed in dreams or 
visions and by theophanies. But a knowledge of the activities of tlie 
people holding these views makes it evident that the do<?trines and 
the arts and the crafts taught by the gods and the institutions 
founded by them for the i>eople are in fact the activities of tiie 
people themselves which had been unconsciously imputed to these 
deities. Of course, the gods can teach and can reveal only what has 
been before imputed to them by tlie people. 

The original and chief person in the myth was not a human being, 
although he was represented as possessed of the form, the desires, 
and the volition of a person. He is reputed to have performed acts 
which no human being had the power to perform, acts which only 
the functioning of a process of nature or of life could accomplish. 

In some of these narratives human beings, bearing human names, 
have been substituted and the heroes and heroines of these stories are 
men, women, and children. 

The substitution of human beings in the stead of the personified 
forces or processes of nature supplies the reason that apparently 
wonderful superhuman deeds are accomplished by the human substi- 
tutes, whereas the acts portrayed are those of natural forces, not of 
human brain atid brawn. 

The stories of the Dagwanoenyent, or Flying Heads, Cyclones, and 
Wliirlwinds, of the Genonsgwa, or Stone Coats (the Frost Giants, 
or Gods of AVinter, but originally named Tawiskaron), and of the 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa, or Wind God, purport to relate historical events, 
although they are mythic and legendary in form. But unlettered 
peoples do not transmit history. The writing of history presupposes 
not only the art of writing but also some kind of permanent social 
and political organization. Individual experiences fade rapidly, for 
lacking the needful general interest they do not unite with others in 
forming even some phase of the locaj history of a group. The ex- 
periences of individuals and even of small unimportant groups of 
people also lack the interest necessary to bring about their trans- 
mission as history. Hence such uncivilized peoples leave to their 
posterity no authentic accounts of the events of their times, for only 
in song and saga, where poetry mingles with fact, do they attempt to 
transmit the narratives of historical events and experiences. 

But with the organization and development of society into greater 
complexity of social and governmental organization there arises 
the need for the transmission of a record of tribal or communal ex- 
94615°— 18 5 



66 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. asn. 32 

periences in which a certain number of persons are intensely inter- 
ested — tribal wars, feats and acts and sayings of great leaders and 
reformers, and other noteworthy public events claim permanency of 
record, and thus history is written. 

Popular tradition treats historical events in a nai've poetical w^y, 
and authentic historical experiences may thus be preserved. Through 
poetic treatment oral tradition becomes legend, so that one of the 
clearest criterions of legend is the fact that it frequently relates 
things that are not credible. Legend is the tradition of men who 
have not the art of writing and is a particular form of poetic narra- 
tive. So that in origin and nature history differs from legend 
because of difference of spheres of interest. Private and personal 
affairs and experiences and things that are of some interest to the 
common people and heroes, great personages, and public events and 
affairs are made attractive to the popular minds by means of poetic 
treatment. Legend is oral tradition in use among folk who do not 
make use of writing or other graphic art to secure permanency of 
record, while history is the written record of events and achievements 
and thoughts of men, which always presupposes the existence and 
the practice of graphic or scriptorial art. 

Now, oral tradition, or legend, is not transmitted without im- 
portant variation in details from generation to generation, and 
so it is an untrustworthy medium for the conveyance of historical 
events. 

The saga, or popular story, may become sacred legend — that is, a 
characteristically "sacred" narrative about the "first people," or 
the gods — or it may remain simply a story or tale. These two 
clas.ses of story or narrative had specific names among the Seneca 
and their congeners of the Iroquoian stock. The sacred legend was 
called Ka'kda', or Ka'karff by the r-using dialects of the Iroquoian 
iribes. The literal meaning of this noun is not known; in the Onon- 
daga dialect the ^--sound would be replaced by the p'-sound. These 
legends are "sacred" to the extent that they would not be related 
except during certain seasons of the year for the fear of breaking a 
religious taboo, forbidding strictly the telling of this class of nar- 
rative. The transgression of this prohibition was punished by the 
offended and vexed " first people." concerning whom the myths or 
stories are related, although modern story-tellers, with scarce an 
exception, who have forgotten the true and logical' reason for the 
inhibition mistakenly declare that the aforesaid penalty would be 
inflicted by the toads or snakes or by some other subtle animal. 

The myths of the American Indian refer to an order of things 
which preceded the present order, and to a race of man-beings who 
dwelt first in the world above the sky and later in small number only 
on this earth and who wei-e the so-called " first people," " the ancients." 



HEmrr] INTBODUCTION 67 

It is evident that myths of origins project backward lo an assumed 
condition of things the story of a day or of a year, and creation is 
described as Spring on a universal scale, that is, it explains the man- 
ner in which the order of things, existent where the stories are told, 
came about, as a Rebirth of Nature. But no one will contend that 
there were human eyewitnesses of what the narratives report. 

The M'ise men, prophets, and priests of tribal men painted these 
tales with the glamour and witchery of poetrv. Myths are the poetic 
judgments of tribal men about the phenomena of life and the outside 
world and embody the philosophy of these men about the problems 
and mysteries of the universe around them and in their own lives. 
So, in order to imderstand these narratives, it is necessary to study 
them with the deepest sympathy. But our sympathy with the view- 
point of the myth narratives of tribal men should not veil the realities 
of .science from our minds. 

Piloted by science in seeking to know the truth about the universe, 
scholars do not expect to discover it in the myth-lore or the folk- 
lore of tribal men. To study the birth and the growth of opinions 
forms one of the most instructive chapters in the science of mind or 
psychology. 

The Seneca name S'hagodiiowe"gowa or S'hagodiiowe'qgowa des- 
ignates one of the famous " man-beings " who are of the lineage of 
the " first people."' Some unknowing Indian interpreters lender this 
term erroneously by the English words " false face," which is a trans- 
lation which effectually conceals the literal meaning of the expression, 
which is freely " The Great Ones Who Defend Them." But as an 
appellative the term is also applied to a single one of these fictitious 
beings. The plural concept is evidently a late development, and 
probably arose after the establishment of societies whose members, 
when ceremonially attired, unist for one thuig wear a wooden juasli 
having as its essential mark a wry mouth. So it is clear that the ex- 
pression " false face " applies to the members of such societies and not 
at all to the man-beings so impersonated. The Iroquoian mj'th of 
Creation knows only one man-being, who assumed the duty of pro 
tecting mankind from pestilence and disease. He was the God of the 
Air or the Wind, sometimes appearing as the Whirlwind. Cere- 
moniallj^ he is addressed as S'hedwdso'dd'' or as Ef'hi^sd'dd', botli 
meaning " He Who Is Our Grandfather." 

It would seem that the pluralizing of the concept has resulted in 
a marked forgetting of the original objective reality represented in 
the concept, which in turn detracts from the high e.steem in which 
the original Wind God was held. Tlie Onondaga name of this per- 
sonage is Hadu'T; the Mohawk, Akon'wdrff. Both these names 
have arisen from something peculiar to members of the so-called 
"False Face Societies,"' the first meaning, from the common postures 



68 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. a.vn. 32 

assumed by the members, '' hunch-backed," and the second, " mask," 
from the wooden mask worn by the members of the society when in 
session. So the expression of the evil side of the manifestations of 
the Power of the Wind or Air, Pestilence, Disease, and Death may 
safely be predicated of this member of the " first people." 

A god or deity e.xerts or maintains its intluence over tiie mind and 
heart of man because it is something more than a mere creature of 
the human brain. The god exercises certain attributes, peculiarities 
and forces which place him outside the sphere of human knowledge 
and experience and competence into a class by himself; he embodies 
in himself, according to belief, the power to function as a process or 
force of the universe plus tiie attributed human faculties and aspect. 

Some of the French writers among the early explorers in North 
America refer to a native belief in " the ancients of animals," which, 
it was stated, were regarded as the type and the progenitors of each 
particular species of animal. But this statement gives only a glimpse 
of a larger faith. These so-called " ancients of animals " were indeed 
only a part of the great company of '" the ancients." " the ancestors," 
or " the first people," each being a personified element or process of 
life or of outside nature, who became by fated metamorphosis the 
reputed progenitors of all faunal and floral life on the earth. 

But an interpretative understanding of the Genesis mytii of the 
American Indians shows that these '"ancients," these primal "an- 
cestors," were regarded as "human beings," as belonging to that class 
of animate beings to which the Indian himself belonged. Yet, these 
" ancients " were the " gods," " the beings," or "the existences," of 
anthropic form, character, and volition, whose metamorphosis later 
produced, according to the Indian philosophy, the present order of 
things on earth. So, the " first beings," conceived as " human beings," 
were indeed the gods — the personified agents of the powers, processes, 
and phenomena of nature. 

It is this principle of transformation, or metamorphosis, that in 
part explains why there are represented largely " anthropic gods " 
with "animal masks" in Central America, Mexico, India, China, 
Egypt, Babylonia, and Assyria, and not many true "animal gods" 
with " human masks." 

But in some places there arose confusion between these poetic cre- 
ations of a childlike faith and the lineal ancestors of men. When 
pride of birth and of position dominated the minds of aristocratic 
men they sought to trace their pedigree to the gods, and so they 
blindly claimed descent from these primal gods, who, in their an- 
thropic aspect, were mere fictions of the mind, and so in time and in 
some lands this process resulted in what is usually called " ancestor 
worship." This is, therefore, never a primitive faith, but only a 
decadent culture. 



CURTIN, 
HEWITT 



] INTEODUCTION 69 



All early men of inchoate mentation, of self -centered thinking, 
shared their needs and afflictions, their woes and ambitions, their suf- 
ferings and aspirations, and. their joys and blessings with their gods, 
feeling that their gods who bore their own likeness by the unconscious 
imputation of human nature to them were endowed with the attri- 
butes, whims, virtues, and frailties of human nature. They believed 
that their gods must be men — man-beings, men like themselves — else 
these deities could not foresee and understand their necessities and 
£0 could not sympathize with men everywhere. Hence an Iroquois, 
thinking and speaking of their deities only in terms of human S]ieech 
and thought, designates a god or other spirit of his faith by the word 
denoting man. human being, or mankind. 

Of the gods and deities of Iroquois myths the editor has written : 

Like most American Indian mythologies, the Iroqiioi;in deals with tliree great 
mjtliic cosniic.Tl periods. In the first dwelt a race of gigantic anthropic beings — ■ 
man-beings. let them be called, because though they were reputed to have been 
larger, purer, wiser, more ancient, and possessed of more potent orenda (q. v,), 
'ban man. and having superior ability to perform the great elemental functions 
characterizing definitely the things represented by them, they nevertheless had 
the form. mien, and mind of man. their creator; for unconsciously did man 
create the gods, the great primal beings of cosmic time — the controllers or 
directors, or impersonations, of the bodies and phenomena of nature — in his 
own image. To these man-beings, therefore, were impnteil the thought, manners, 
customs, habits, and social organization of their creators; notwith.standing this, 
man regarded them as uncreated, eternal, and immortal; for by a curious para- 
dox, man. mistaking his own mental fictions, his metajthors, for realities, ex- 
plained his own existence, wisdom, and activities as the divine product of the 
creations of his own inchoate mind. The dwelling-place of the first great primal 
beings, characterized by flora and fauna respectively identical with the plant 
and anim;il life ajipearing later on the earth, was conceived to have been the 
upper surface of the visible sky, which was regarded as a .solid plain. Here 
lived the first beings in peace and contentment for a very long period of time: 
no one knows or ever knew the length ot this first cosmic period of traiifjuil 
existence. But there came a time wheu an event occurred which resulted in 
a roetamoriihosis in the state and aspect of celestial and earthly things; in 
fact, the seeming had to become or to assume the real, and so came to pass the 
cataclysmic change of things of the first period into that now seen on the earth 
and in the sky, and the close of this period was the dawn of the gods of this 
mythology.' 

So the character and the nature of the deities and spirits of the 
faith of the Iroquois peoples were a direct reflex of tho.se attributes 
of the people themselves. It may be inferred in general that the more 
primitive and cultureless the people are the more crude, the more 
barbaric and savage will be their conceptions of their gods and the 
nature and functions of these naive creations, but, conversely, it is 
only with the possession of a higher degree of intelligence that come 
nobler, more refined, grander, and more spiritual ideas of their gods. 
This admits of no exception. 

' Handbook of American Indians, pt. 2. p. 720. 



70 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. J2 

Whatever, therefore, the final terms are in which men at any time 
and place define their deities, the premises of their reasoning about 
them is always quite the same — namely, to define the unknown man 
in terms of the />nown 7nen themselves — but tiiis known quantitij, 
man, is variable and inconstant, changing witii time and place. All 
powers and functions and attributes of mind and body, inherent in 
man and distinctive of him — no matter whether beneficent or evil — 
men imputed to their gods in more or less idealized form. 

Guided by inchoate reasoning, the crude thinking of unscientific 
minds, all early men, responsive to external stimuli and the internal 
yearning for truth, ascribed to their gods and spirits not only all 
human functions and attributes measurably idealized, but also all 
their arts and social and religious in.stitutions were likewise attrib- 
uted, probabl)' quite unconsciously, to their gods and deities. These 
anthropic features and activities and anthropopathic mind were not 
ascribed, of course, to other men. but rather to the so-called " first 
people " — the personified, animated and humanized phenomena and 
processes of nature, of the environments of their experience. Thus, 
the social and institutional organization of the gods becomes a some- 
what idealized epitome or reflex of the human society as it existed 
and exists among the people in whose minds these divine organiza- 
tions hatl their t)rigin. By so doing men painted, either consciously 
or unconsciously, in their religious activities and in their god-lore 
a faithful picture of the earliest culture and civilization of their own 
ethnic progenitors. 

Hence, when authentic historical records are wanting the student 
may by close and sympathetic analysis and interpretation of the 
myths and the religion of a people acquire a fairly accurate knowl- 
edge of the history and culture of such a people. In this manner, 
indeed, the gods verily become the revealers of all history and the 
teachers of the arts and crafts and industries and the true founders 
of the institutions — human and divine — to that people. In this in- 
teraction of the huuian mind with the forces and phenomena of life 
and environing nature lies the true source of inspiration and proph- 
ecy. The history of the gods is the history of man. Because the 
gods, in general, symbolize universal processes in life and nature 
they and their attributes and functions in time become more or less 
highly idealized creations of the conscious, the subconscious, and the 
superconscious thinking of men. 

The lesson of these myths and legends is that man is other than 
the material world; that while he is in it he is not of it; that while 
he feels nature's elemental activities impelling him and impinging 
on his .senses, his apprehensive yearning heart sees the beckoning 
finger of a higher and nobler destiny. 



CLETIN,! 



HEWi'rjJ INTRODUCTION 71 

All bodies of myths agree perfectly on one fundamental principle, 
transformation, through which all things on this earth have become 
what they are. 

This principle of metamorphosis indicates the mental process by 
which these things were represented as becoming what they seemed 
to be — animated things, subjectively endowed with human form, 
thought, and voliticm. to explain the phenomena of life and sur- 
roimding nature. 



I desire to record here my grateful acknowledgment of the assist- 
ance rendered by Mr. F. W. Hodge, ethnologist in charge of the 
Bureau of American Ethnology, in the form of valuable suggestions 
in connection with the work and in other ways. I wish also to 
express my appreciation of the courtesy of Messrs. Little, Brown i& 
Co., of Boston, in giving the bureau permission to use freely the 
material contained in the instructive '* Introductions " written by the 
late Jeremiah Curtin for his interesting books, published by that 
company under the titles: "Myths and Folk-Tales of the Kussians, 
Western Slavs, and Magyars"; "Myths and Folk-Lore of Ireland"; 
"Hero-Tales of Ireland"'; and "Creation Myths of Primitive 
America." 



phonf:tic key 



a as in father 

a preceding sound, prolonjred 

ii as in what 

ii as in hat 

a next preceding sound, prolonged 

a as in all 

ai as in aisle 

au as ou in out 

c as sh in shall 

q as th in wealth 

d pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, 
as in entmciating English th in with; the only sound of d employed 
in writing native words 

e as in they 

e as in met 

f as in waif 

g as in gig 

h as in hot 

i as in pique 

I next preceding sound, prolonged 

i as in pit 

k as in kick 

n as in run 

n as ngi in ring 

o as in note 

q as ch in German ich 

r slightly trilled ; this is its only sound 

s as in sop 

t pronounced with the tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth, 
as in enunciating the English th in with; this is its only sound 

u as in rule 

u as in rut 

w as in wit 

y as in ye 

73 



74 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Iktu. axn. 32 

dj as j in judge 
hw as wh ip. what 
tc as ch in church 

" marks nasalized vowels, thus e", o", ai", e", ii", a" 
' indicates an aspiration or soft emission of breath 
' marks the glottal stop, il', e°' 

t'h In this combination t and h are separately uttered, as th in the 
p]nglish words hothouse, foothold. 



MATERIAL COLLECTED BY JEREMIAH CURTIN 



FICTION 

1. The Sister and Her Six Elder Brothers 

Once there was a lodge, which extended east and west, with two 
doors, one at each end. The fire burned in the middle of the lodge, 
which was occupied by a sister and her six elder brothers. Three 
of the brothers used the eastern doorway, and the other three the 
western doorway, for entering and leaving the lodge, while the sister 
made use of both doorways. 

Tlie eldest brother said. " What would you say, my brothers and 
sister, if I should take a wife? " " AVe do not know," they replied; 
" perhaps nothing, if she does not abuse us." So he went to bring the 
young woman. He addressed her old mother, saying. "Are you will- 
ing that thy daughter and I should marry?" She replied, "Cer- 
tainly, if you will not ill-treat her. but have pity on her." Then the 
young man went to his home, whei'e he said. " She will come."" 

Now. the mother made marriage-bread for the occasion. When it 
was ready the maiden, bearing the bread on her back by means of 
the forehead strap, started for the place where abode the six brothers 
and their sister. They received her bread and ate it with a relish. 

Then the elder brother said to his wife : " Now, I will tell you. In 
this room you uuist never cross to the other side of the fire: and when 
you desire to go out of doors 3'ou must invariably leave by this 
eastern doorway. But when you desire to enter the lodge you must 
enter at the other side, through the western doorway." 

Then it came to pass that the brothers began to hunt, as was their 
■custom. 

Some time after this event the bride said, "Oh, pshaw I What 
the man [her husband] thinks is indeed of small account," and 
went directly through the lodge to the western doorway, the thing 
which she had been forbidden to do. 

Now, her husband, the eldest brother, was hunting, and he came 
to a deep gully over which a log extended. In crossing on this log 
he fell off in such a way that his body was caught so that his head 
hung down into the gully. 

When night came on his brothers began to fear, saying. " Oh, why 
does not our elder brother return ! Let us- go seek him." So they 
prepared torches and started. Following his tracks, in time they ar- 
rived at the place where the body of their elder brother was hanging. 
It was found that he was barely alive. After carefully extricating 

75 



76 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. axx. 32 

liiin frcim tlie }jei'il<nis situation they carried liini home, where they 
properly cared for him, giving liim food and di'ink and dressing his 
wonnds. 

The next morning the younger brothers said one to the other, 
"The woman who is dwelling here has abused us in this matter: 
therefore let her return to her home." Overhearing this speech, the 
young woman replied, " It is well. Now, I shall go home." And. 
arising in lier place, she departed. 

The fifth brother started in pursuit of her; and as he was about to 
grasp her, she let her skin robe fly back in such a manner that it 
took out the eyes of her pursuer. When the other brothers became 
aware of this misfortune which had befallen him, they were very 
angry and started in pursuit of the young woman. .Just as they 
were about to grasp her, again .she let her skin robe fly back so that 
it took out the eyes of all the pui-suing brothers. Then, indeed, they 
were very miserable. 

And now all the work about the lodge fell to the lot of the little 
girl, the young sister of these blind brothers. These ate whatever 
their young sister, all alone, was able to get for them — weeds and 
roots of various kinds. She was in the habit of running amimd out 
of doers. 

One day when she had gone for water she saw some lioys coming, 
paddling in a canoe and making a great noise as they drew near, 
laughing and shouting. When they arrived where she was they ex- 
( laimed, " Come hither. Get aboard and let us have some fun." But 
she replied, " No; it will not be possible for me to do so. I will not 
do so, because I am taking care of my elder brothers. They would 
become too miserable should I leave them." But they persisted, say- 
ing, '' Now, anyway, for a short distance you can leap into this canoe." 
She finally decided to comply with their request, an<l saying. " In- 
deed, yes!" she got aboard the canoe at once. Then they started 
back, and when they arrived at a bend of the river the little girl 
said, " Now I Mill get out of the canoe." But her captors, saying. 
" Come still a short distance farther." started on. 

Matters continued in this wi.se until they had gone a long distance. 
Then the little girl began to weep. Looking back, she saw a man 
ugly beyond measure, being very filthy in body and exceedingly fat, 
with a very broad face and an enormous stomach. Then the little 
girl looked to the bow of the canoe to see the man who had been 
sitting there, but he was gone ; and she wept aloud. The canoe went 
directly toward the middle of the lake. While paddling along they 
saw an island on which stood a lodge. On landing, the ugly man 
said: "Let us enter the place where thy grandmother has her lodge. 
And, moreover, you must continue to reside here. There lives hei'e, 
too, another girl, who will be your companion. You two may play 



^H-^-S] FICTION 77 

together." The little girl entered this lodge, and the old woman 
said, " I am thankful that my granddaughter has arrived." 

Some time after this event the little girl who was already in the 
lodge said to the newcomer: "Do you loiow what will happen to us 
in this placed We two shall die here, for they will kill us both 
and devour our bodies." So the little girl who had just arrived 
began to think much about her situation. 

After a while the little girl who was first at the lodge said to the 
newcomer: " Now. verily, they are about to kill one of us. It is not 
ceitain which it will be — whether you or I. Tomorrow will decide. 
The one to be killed will be ordered to bring water, and will be killed 
here.'' So when night came the newcomer could not sleep ; she was 
thinking dui'ing the entire night. 

When day began to dawn the son of Dagwanoenyeut ' " looked 
down at her through the smoke-hole, and said to her : " It is I who 
will aid you. When you go after water you must look for three white 
chert stones as large as you can hold in your hands, and you must 
take a doll with you. When you dip up the water you must set up 
the doll nearby. Then your grandmother will think that it is you 
standing there when she shall go there to strike you with her club. 
Now, do not fail to do all these things as I have directed you." 

In the morning the old woman raised her voice, saj'ing to the little 
newcomer, " Hurry ! Arise and draw water." Then the old woman 
set the kettle over the fire. The girl went to the spring and began to 
draw water. While she was drawing water she carried the three 
white chert stones and placed them side by side in the designated 
I^lace and set up the doll there, too. She did all that she had been 
directed to do by the son of Dagwanoenyeut. She was surprised to 
see a canoe make a landing there; in it was a young man. Placing 
the stones in the canoe, she got .aboard, as requested by the young 
man. Then the canoe started off. 

AVhen the canoe was being paddled far from the island the old 
woman exclaimed. " Go-o-o-oh! My grandchild has been gone a long 
time," and, calling loudly for her, she went out to search for her. 
She ran around over the entire island looking for her, but was not 
able to find her. Then it was that she saw the doll standing near the 
spring; on striking it a blow with her club she discovered that 
she had been tricked. Thereupon she said, " She is somewhat of a 
witch. Verily, the son of Dagwanoenyeut has stolen her away from 
me; and he is a very ugly and filthy man." 

Now she went to the lodge to procure her fishhook and then to the 
bank of the lake at the canoe landing. After unwinding the fishline 
she cast it after the fleeing canoe; the hook caught on the canoe and 
she began to pull on the line. So, while the two were paddling they fell 
the canoe going backward. The young man said, " Do j^ou overturn 

o The superior figures refer to notes on pages 791-812. 



78 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth.ann. 32 

the canoe for there is where the hook has caught on it." So the young 
woman overturned the canoe and, seizing one of the white chert 
stones, she struck the hook, and while the old woman was pulling on 
the line it gave way. Then the old woman said, " Oh. it is sorrowful ! 
The son of Dagwanoenyent and the young woman I shall soon punisli 
for this." 

Then the old woman made another fishhook and it caught on the 
fleeing canoe, and again the young man and the young woman felt 
the canoe going backward. Again the youth said. "Turn the canoe 
over again and you will find the fishhook." So she did this, and tak- 
ing one of the white chert stones, she struck and again broke the old 
woman's fishhook. Once more the canoe went foi-ward, and the 
old woman pulled on the line, which suddenly gave way, whereupon 
she said derisi\ely, "J'c"Ae.'^ Nevertheless I shall kill you both." 

Then she made another fishhook and, going to the shore of the lake, 
she cast the lineagain toward the canoe, to which it became fast. Again 
the young man said to his young companion, " Overturn the canoe 
and there j'ou will find the fishhook." This she did quickly and, 
seizing a white chert stone, struck the fishhook a blow which broke it. 
This was the last of the three stones which the young man had told 
her to bring with her. They had now arrived at a point near the 
mainland. 

The old woman now resorted to drinking up ^ the water of the lake, 
and as she drew in the water the canoe started back toward her. 
When they drew near the young man, the son of Dagwanoenyent. 
seizing a knife, ripped the old woman's body in two and she died. 
Then the two turned their canoe around and soon reached the main- 
land. 

They went together to the place where stood the lodge of the young 
man's mother, who was an elderly woman of the Dagwanoenyent 
people. Near the lodge stood a large hollow stump, in which the 
young man concealed his wife for the time being, and then he alone 
went to the home of his mother. When he entered the lodge his 
mother's pets, some wolves, began to howl. The young man repri- 
manded them, saying, "■ Djis'nen! [Oh, stop it!] you miserable dogs." 
and, seizing a club, he struck them several blows, whereupon they 
fled under the old woman's couch. The old woman said, " They 
smell you, verily, for you smell like a human being." The young 
man replied, " Oh, pshaw ! You know, indeed, that I have been in 
places where human beings live ; " he continued, saying, " I am not 
certain what your mind would think if I should marry u wouum, a 
person of the human race." The old woman said, "Aha ! Certainly, 
1 suppose. Where is she now ? " The young man replied, " Over 
yonder, a short distance." Then the old woman said, " It is well. 
In what place is she ? " She went out of doors and her son pointed. 



CUBTI 

HEWITT 



^] FICTION 79 



saying, " Yonder, in that stump." Going to the place, the old woman 
took her daughter-in-law out of the stump, and they two went into 
the lodge of the Dagwanoenyent woman, and then the wolves began 
to bark (howl). The young man scolded them, saying, "it is dis- 
agreeable. You wretched dogs! you wolves!" Thereupon these 
domestic animals ceased and went under the bed. 

Some time after this the young woman proved to be pregnant, 
and in the fullness of time she gave birth to male twins. It was not 
long before the twins were quite large. 

Then the old woman, their grandmother, said, " Let there be made 
for them sticks — lacrosse sticks for playing ball." This was done 
and they began to play ball. Again their grandmother said, " Per- 
haps it is time that there should be made also bows and arrows ; " and 
she added, " Now, you two must continue to shoot at this thing," and 
she gave them a raccoon's foot, taken from the bundle which she kept 
hidden away. And the two did shoot at it in great glee, and this 
continued for some time. 

Then the old woman, their grandmother, said to them, " Do not 
ever go toward the north. It will be dangerous for you." But one 
of the boys said, " Let us go there." So they went there. Now in 
that northern place there stood a very large and tall pine tree; in its 
top rested the nest of a Dagwanoenyent, who was an old man. As 
soon as the two bo3's arrived directly under the nest the old man 
shouted, " Ye^he! I have detected you two, my grandchildren." 
Then this disobedient little boy in reply said, " So be it. What then 
shall happen? " Now it is reported that this old Dagwanoenyent an- 
swered, " Would you two be willing that it should rain, and that the 
raindrops should be mixed with .spears (dai'ts)." "Certainly," re- 
plied this boy, and immediately he with his twin brother crawled 
far under a rock lying not far away, where they concealed themselves. 

Verily, it did rain and the raindrops were mingled with darts. 
As soon as this rainstorm ceased each of the boys picked up a spear, 
and then they started for the home of their grandmother, where they 
soon arrived. The boy said, " He shall suffer for this." His grand- 
mother saw the spear or dart that he had. The boy continued, " To- 
morrow, he himself in his turn shall suffer for this. I in my turn 
shall detect this, my grandfather." 

Ne.xt morning, when daylight came the boys started. When they 
had arrived near the tree the boy requested a mole to assist him, and 
it complied with his request. The two boys entered its body and it 
carried them imoljserved to the place where stood the tree. Then the 
boy came forth and, leaping up, shouted, " Te"Ae.' Grandfather, I 
have detected you, 3'e"Ae.'" The old man asked, "What shall it 
be that shall happen? " The boy said in reply, " Would you be will- 
ing that it do so (it is hard to tell what you would think about it, 



80 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

should it rain fire)/' The old man said, '"Ho! Certainly, I can do 
nothing about it. Come then, so be it." And the boy shouted, say- 
ing, " Let it rain fire," and at once it began to rain fire. 

Then the boy hid himself with his brother under the I'ock. In a 
very short time the body of the old man took fire and the dead Dag- 
wanoenyent fell down there. Then the boy and his twin brother 
went home again to their grandmother. Now the younger of the 
twins began to relate what had taken place on their journey. He 
said that his elder brother, the other twin, had killed Dagwanoenyent. 
The old woman said, " Now he was, indeed, my elder brother " ; and 
she wept and kept saying, " You two have killed my elder brother." 

After a while, as the twins were again going from place to place to 
play, they saw a cave which seemed to be a lodge. At once one of 
the boys said to his brother, " Let us enter it." On going in they 
were surprised to find a number of persons who were all blind, 
and in very wretched condition, for indeed they were scarcely 
alive. The elder twin asked the inmates of the cave, "What great 
calamity has taken place that you are all blind?" One of them 
answered, " It is a fact that our eyes have been taken from us by 
those false women who are making a robe spangled with human 
eyes, and furthei-more Shagowenotha has robbed us of our sister 
younger than we are." The elder twin then asked the blind people, 
" In what direction do the eye-robe-making women live? " His uncle 
(his mother's brother) replied, " Directly thither, toward the north." 
The boy said, " I shall make the attempt to go to get them." 

So they two, the twins, started. In time they arrived at the lodge 
of the women who were making a robe of human eyes; and one of 
the twins said, " I .shall go there." When they reached the jjlace 
where these women obtained their water, he transformed himself, 
becoming a very small, young, blue duck. AA'hen the youngest of 
these sisters, the makers of the robe of human eyes, came to draw 
water she of course saw this pretended duck and chased it around, 
but failed in her attempt to catch it. Thereupon the water became 
turbid and she wholly lost sight of the duck. The young water girl 
started back to the lodge. Having arrived there, she related what 
she had seen, saying, " Verily, indeed, I think there must be some- 
thing hidden here (in ni}' body). I do not know what it is that stirs 
about inside." The eldest of the sisters asked her, " How long has it 
been so? " The youngest sister answered, " Just now." So the eldest 
sister examined her, and then said, '" Indeed, you are pregnant, it 
would seem." In a very short time she began to have labor pains, 
and it became evident that she would give birth to a child. She did 
give birth to a male child, a fine boy, and all the sisters were pleased. 

Then, it is said, the new-born infant began to cry, and to quiet 
him they showed him various things. They kept this up during the 



CURTIN, 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 81 



night, so they did not get any sleep. In the early morning all fell 
asleep from weariness. The infant, however, was covered with the 
unfinished robe of human eyes. Just as soon as all were asleep the 
I)retended infant quickly rose, and, taking the robe of human eyes, 
he started away. He soon arrived where he had left his twin brother 
t-o await his coming. Then he said, " Come ; let us start." 

When they arrived at the pla-ce where the lodge of their uncles 
.stood they at once began to put the eyes back into the heads of their 
owners. Everyone first made a selection from those on tlie robe of 
human eyes of the eyes which were his. They were able to put eyes 
back into the heads of all the blind uncles. Whereupon the latter 
were able to recognize one another — their nephews and their brother- 
in-law, the son of Dagwanoenyent, and also their sister. 

After this they began to hunt, and they dwelt there together. They 
were happy and contented. And finally, it is said, they became 
rabbits.* 

2. The Child and His Uncle 

Once there was a child who was left alone in a lodge in a forest; 
he was enjoying himself by playing around the lodge. At last he 
was surprised to hear what seemed to him the voice of a man, which 
said: "Is there no tobacco? Is there no tobacco? I should like to 
smoke again." Then the child said to him-self: "It would seem, in- 
deed, that there is some one around here saying, ' Tobacco. Give me 
tobacco, for I want to smoke again.' Yet I have always thought that 
I am alone here. In any event, I shall look around from place to 
place. It seems that there is another story (loft) in this lodge, and 
that it is from that place that this man is speaking." But, forget- 
ting his resolution to look for the man, he continued to play until 
nightfall. 

The next morning, while he was again playing around the lodge, 
he was once more surprised to hear the man saying, " Is there no 
tobacco? I should like to smoke again." Then the boy said, "Oh, 
pshaw ! I forgot this thing, but I think that I shall search this 
place tomorrow to learn what this talking may mean." 

So the ne.xt morning he looked around in many places. Finding 
the loft in the lodge, he climbed up into it, and while he was search- 
ing the place he was surprised to find a man lying down who was so 
lean that he appeared to be merely dried bones covered with skin. 
The boy said to him. "What is it that you want? " And the skele- 
tonlike man replied, "The only thing I desire is tobacco, for I want 
to smoke again." The boy, answering, said, " Where is it that to- 
bacco may be found in abundance ? " The man replied : " It is to 
be found in a certain place which is, beyond measure, one of forbid- 
ding difficulties and frightful aspect; and I know that in that place 
94615°— 18 6 



82 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth ANN. 32 

dwell Seven Sisters and an old woman, their mother and tutor. 
These people are immune from the eft'eots of noi'mal orenda or magic- 
power; and it is these people who have the tobacco." After a pause 
he added : "Along the way through which the patli thither goes are 
<)bstructions of the most appalling character. In the first place. 
there stands a Tree, a Pine Tree, whose leaves drop on the intruder, 
j)iercing his body and causing him to die. Some distance beyond 
this point are two living things, which are called Osigwaon; that 
is, two huge Rattlesnakes, which occupy each side of the i^ath, and 
which bite with deadly effect any intruder. Still farther beyond 
stands a great rock, through an opening in which passes the path, 
and there stand two great living things, two S'hagodiyoweqgow'a, 
which also have the power to kill any intruder who may succeed in 
reaching this point. Farther on flows a river, on the other side 
of which stand two Blue Herons, whose duty it is to give an alarm 
by loud cries to the Seven Sisters and their mother on the approach 
of any intruder; and these, on hearing the alarm, issue from tiieir 
lodge in great fury, carrying their war clubs, with which they 
(juickly dis])atch the unwelcome intruder. Still farther on. toward 
the lodge stands a tree, on which hangs the dried skin of a human 
being, which, on the approach of an intruder, sings, thereby giving 
the inmates of the lodge warning of the approach of anv person 
whatsoevei'. and these at once issue from their home, bearing their 
war clubs, to kill the unwelcome guest." After a long pause the 
man of skin an J bones continued : "This is the number of the things 
which have th.> power to kill per.sons along the pathway to the place 
where the tobacco is to be found." * 

Then the boy replied : " That is all right, for it will not prevent 
me from going after the tobacco, and then you shall be able to smoke. 
At all events. I will go after the tobacco: I will start tomorrow." 
Early the next morning he started on his perilous journey toward the 
place where the tobacco could be found. 

In time he arrived at the place where the first obstacle barred his 
way, the Pine Tree having the magic power (orenda) ; this he found 
had been transformed into a hickory tree. After looking at it for 
some time, he finally rushed past it just as it was, although he boast- 
ingly exclaimed, "It shall not fall on me." And truly when he had 
got beyond the tree he stopped and found that not a thing had 
touched him. 

Continuing his course, finally he came to the spot where the two 
Eattlesnakes stood guard over the pathway. Going into tlie bushes 
which surrounded the path, to hunt for two chipmunks, he killed 
two. Returning to the two Rattlesnakes, he gave a chipmunk to each, 
saying, " You must not in any manner enchant me. I recompense 



i^wS] FICTION 83 

you with these cliipniunks for the favor I ask of you." Seizing the 
proffered chipmunks, the Rattlesnakes began to swallow them. 

Starting onward again in his journey, the boy continued his course 
until startled by seeing the two S'hagodiyoweqgowa standing in the 
narrow opening of the great rock. Going into the forest, he pro- 
cured some lichens, which he cut up. Making his way to the place 
where the two S'hagodiyoweqgowa were standing, he said to them, 
" Do not enchant me; for this favor I will reconi|)ense you with this 
tobacco," and. casting it to them, they received it. and he passed them 
and kept on his journey. 

He had gone a long distance when he came to the place at which 
the two Blue Herons were on guard on the farther bank of the river, 
at the end of the log-crossing. Immediately he went along the river 
a short distance and then began fishing; soon he took two fish. Re- 
turning to the spot where the two Herons were, he said to them, " You 
must not give the alarm, for I will recompense you with these fish for 
the favor which I ask of you " ; he gave each a fish and then passed on. 

Not far from there he came to the tree on which the entire dried 
skin of a woman hung. For a moment he stood there and then he 
said, "Come hither, thou mole; I am hungry (wearied)." Then the 
mole came forth from out of the ground and the boy said to it, " I 
am entering your body and I want you to go along beneath the sur- 
face of the ground and come out directly under the place where that 
woman's skin hangs yonder." So he entered the body of the mole, 
which went along at once under the surface of the ground. When it 
reached the place where stood the tree it came out directly undei- 
the woman's skin. Then the boy came out of the body of the mole 
and, addressing the dried skin of the woman, said. " You must not 
tell that I am here. Do me this favor and I will recompense you 
with wampum." Then he went into the forest and peeled off some 
slippery elm bark, which he formed into cylinders resembling wam- 
pum ; placing these in his pouch he returned to the spot where the 
woman's dried skin iiung. When he arrived there he said to the 
dried skin, "Now. I am bringing you a wampum belt,"* and he 
attached the belt to the tree beside which she then stood, as he had 
requested her to descend from her usual position. 

Again entering the mole, the boy went to the lodge, into which he 
went without anyone knowing of his presence; no one of the Se\en 
Sisters nor their Mother Imew of his entrance into their lodge. There 
he found a kettle of hominy seasoned with the flesh of the bear (gan- 
n]ia'gwai-gcon. owa ne sha'anf), which he began to eat. But he 
was surprised to hear a voice coming out of the fire say, Odegwiyo 
hodel^honi. Then the old woman said, "This is certainly provoking; 
it is perhaps true that Odegwiyo has indeed come into the lodge." At 
once she got her war club, with which she furiously struck the burn- 



84 SKNECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth axn. 32 

ing fire a blow, saying that it was probable Odegwiyo was concealed 
therein, as the voice issued from the fire. Just then the boy was 
greatly surprised to hear outside of the lodge the voice of the dried 
woman's skin singing, "I have detected (out-eyexi) Odegwiyo." 

The old woman shouted to her daughters, " Have courage, my 
children, and do your duty," and then she derisively added. " Ode- 
gwiyo, you indeed have courage," signifying her contempt for the 
orenda, or magic power, of the boy. Her children rushed out of the 
lodge, each one carrying her war club, and they sought for the boy 
outside of the lodge, but could find no trace of him. When they had 
about given up trying to find him, the dried-skin figure of the woman 
again began to sing, "' Verily, I have told a falsehood " ; and the old 
woman answered, " Forsooth, this is discouraging," and struck the 
di'ied skin of the woman a terrible blow. The empty skin flew 
away, alighting on the top of another and larger tree. 

In the meantime the boy got possession of the tobacco and at once 
went o>it of the lodge, carrying it in a band which he had around 
his neck. He had not gone far when the old woman said, " I have 
been saying this for a long time. Now, Odegwiyo is yonder indeed 
carrying away the tobacco." They pursued him for some distance, 
but as he had outwitted them and had shown them that he possessed 
as powerful orenda as they had, if not greater, they soon gave up 
the chase. [Text incomplete.] ^ 

3. D.TOciEoN (Dwarf-man) and His Uncle 

Djogeon lived in the woods with his uncle. When the boy was old 
enough to learn, his uncle taught him how to shoot; for this purpose 
he took him out to hunt. ^^Tien the uncle grew too old to hunt the 
nephew then went alone. 

About noon one day while following an elk, a woman sitting on a 
log at the edge of an opening in the forest called to Djogeon, saying, 
" Come here and rest : I know you are tired." At first he paid no 
attention to her, but after she had called to him the third time he 
went to her and sat by her side. She talked to him, and before he 
realized it she had his head in her lap and had begun searching 
therein for vermin. 

He soon fell asleep, and when she was satisfied that he was sleeping 
soundly she put him into a basket which she placed on her back and 
started off with great speed, traveling until the sun had almost set. 
Then stopping, she put her basket down and roused the young man, 
asking him, " Do you know this place? " " Oh, yes," said he, " my 
uncle and T used to himt here. I know the place very well." They 
spent the night ttiere. 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



^•] ncTioN 85 



The next morning she searched iigain in his uead until he fell 
asleep ; then putting him into the basket again, she hurried on as be- 
fore until late in the afternoon. She stopped at a lake and, putting 
the basket down, she again awakened the young man, asking him, 
" Do you know this lake ? " " Yes ; I have fished here many times 
with my uncle," replied the young man. Then, taking out of her 
basket a canoe no larger than a walnut, she struck it with her hand 
repeatedly until it became large enough to hold both. Then they 
both boarded it and paddled across the lake. "We will now go 
home,"' said she. "I have a mother and three sisters; all the latter 
are married and live in the same lodge. AVe will go to them." she 
declared. 

Djogeon and his companion traveled on until they reached her 
mother's lodge. When they stood at the door her mother saw the 
stranger with her daughter and cried out, " Welcome, son-in-law. I 
am glad you lune come." Djogeon became the voung wonuin's bus 
band, and they lived happily until one night the old woman had a 
frightful dream, rolling out of her couCh and over the floor to the 
edge of the fire. Tlien her son-in-law jumped up and asked his 
mother-in-law, " What is the matter ? Are you dreaming, mother-in- 
law ? " She paid no attention to him but rolled about, muttering to 
herself. Then he said, "I will make her listen," and, taking tlie 
pestle for pounding corn, he hit her a heavy blow on the head. She 
started up, saying. '"Oh! I have had such a bad dream. I dreamed 
that my son-in-law would kill the Ganiagwaihegowa." " Oh," said lie, 
" I will attend to that in the morning. Now go to sleep, mother-in- 
law." The ne.xt morning the old woman told her son-in-law he must 
kill the bear and bring it back quickly. So he sought and killed the 
bear without much trouble and brought it home. 

The next night she dreamed that he must make a great feast for 
tlie Dagwanoenyent,' and that he must invite them all to a feast and 
provide so much food that they M'ould not be alilc to eat it all. The 
next day he hunted and killed a great many elk. deer, and bear. 
There was an abundance of food, the lodge being full of meat, and 
still there was more. Then he went out and called all the Da- 
gwanoenyent to come to a great feast prepared for them to eat their 
fill. They answered him, all agreeing to be at the feast. Soon they 
began to appear, one after another; they came in such numbers that 
the shelves, the floor, and the seats were filled with them. They be- 
gan to eat. and ate with a terrible appetite. Thp old woman went 
around urging them, saying, "Eat. eat your fill. I want all to have 
plenty to eat in my lodge.'' They ate, and the old woman still urged 
them, hoping that the supply would run short and her son-in-law 
would be killed. The son-in-law, with his wife, her three sisters, and 
their husbands went out to have moi'e food brougiit in case of need. 



86 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

At last the Dagwiuioenyent ate until their jaws could mov'e no 
longer and their tongues refused to stir. They said, " We have had 
enough. Mother, mother, enough." When he heard these words the 
young son-in-law motioned to the walls and roof, saying, " I want 
the roof and walls of this lodge to become flint." The old woman and 
the Dag\^■anoenyent, seeing that they were caught, flew around in 
every direction. The old woman begged for mercy. "Mother-in- 
law, you had no mercy on me, so I will not let you out," answered 
Djogeon. Then he said, " I want this house to become red hot." As 
it grew hot the Dagwanoenyent flew about with terrible speed, 
knocking around the walls and making such a noise as had never 
been heard in the world before. At last all was still in the lodge. 

Then the nephew with his wife and her three sisters and their 
husbands set out for the lodge of Djogeon's uncle. They went by 
the road over which he and his wife had come. When they reached 
the lake it was covered with thin ice, which could barely hold up 
a small bird. The young man took eight puffballs from an oak 
tree and, making himself and his friends small, each one entered 
a ball; and when the eight balls stood side by side on the ice by the 
edge of the lake, he said, " Let the west wind blow," and the west 
wind obeyed, sweeping them over the lake to the other side. Then 
they came out of the balls and, resuming their natural size, con- 
tinued their way until they reached the lodge of Djogeon's uncle. 

4. The Woman Who Married a Great Serpent 

A woman and her only daughter lived together in a fine bark 
lodge on the outskirts of a village. The daughter was attractive in 
form and feature, but haughty and proud in her bearing. Many 
young warriors had made proposals of marriage to her through her 
mother. Her customary reply was, " That man is not as fine looking 
and handsome as I want a man to be." Her mother, however, 
remonstrated with her often on her too haughty manner and selfish 
pride, but she disdainfully disregarded her mother's advice. 

One day the mother and daughter started off into the forest to 
gather wood. When they were far from home darkness came upon 
them, which was so intense that the mother said to her daughter, " I 
think we may as well gather bark to make a temporary shelter and 
wood to make a fire, so that we can remain overnight in this place." 
So they constructed a temporary lodge and kindled a cheerful fire, 
and made the necessary preparations to stay there overnight. After 
preparing and eating their evening meal they sat down on opposite 
sides of the fire to rest and converse together. 

Suddenly, while the mother was dozing, a man came and stood 
beside the girl. When she looked up at him she was amazed and 



CURT 
HEW 



J^] FICTION 87 



charmed by his great beauty of face and form. He wore a wampum 
sash around his body and a fine headdress with black eagle plumes 
waving over it. His entire person seemed to shine with paint and 
oil. Without ceremony he informed the young woman that he had 
come to marry her and that he woidd await her answer. Answering 
him, the young woman said, "I will first tell my mother what you 
have said, and when 1 get her reply I will talk to you again." The 
strange man stood near the fire while waiting for an answer from 
the two women. 

The young woman told her mother what he had said to her. and 
her mother answered, " You must do as you yourself like. You have 
already refused a great many men without good cause, so far as I 
know. Now, therefore, it is for you to decide what you must do in 
this case. You must please yourself." With this equivocal response 
the girl went back to the man and gave him her mother's answer, 
adding, " I have decided to become your wife. You may follow me 
to my mother " ; then she took her seat at his side. When they had 
been to talk to the mother they returned to the fireside. He seemed 
to the mother also a very handsome man ; so she agreed to the mar- 
riage and the two became husband and wife. 

Then the young man said to his young wife, " I want you to 
accompany me to my own lodge tonight." Then removing the 
beautiful wampum sash, he gave it to her for her mother, saying, 
" This shall be a sign for your mother that we are married." The 
mother received it and hung it up, for she was much pleased with it. 
Then the man and his wife started off toward his lodge. As they 
traveled on the wife could see in the distance a large clearing, at 
one end of which she saw a lodge which her husband pointed out to 
her as his. They went into it, and the people within seemed to be 
delighted to see her; so she sat down in her husband's seat. They 
passed that night and the next day together. On the second day 
the young husband said, " I am going out to hunt." 

He went out. When he closed the door the young woman heard 
a very strange noise; she did not know what to think of it. Then 
all became still. In the evening she heard sounds of the same kind. 
Then the door was flung aside and a tremendous serpent, with his 
tongue darting from his mouth, entered the lodge and placed his 
head in the lap of the young woman, asking her to hunt in it for 
vermin. She found in his head a large number of bloodsuckers, 
angleworms, and other noisome insects.^ She killed all she found 
whereupon then the serpent slowly withdrew from the lodge and dis- 
appeared. 

In a moment the young woman's husband came into the lodge and 
he appeared to her handsome as ever. He asked his wife, '' Were you 
afraid of me when I came in a short time ago ? " She replied, " No ; I 



88 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS ' [eth. ann. 32 

was not afraid at all." The next day he went hunting again. As he 
started out of the lodge and closed the door she again heard the same 
strange sounds that she had heard the day before. About midday 
she went forth to get fuel for the fire and to bring water to the lodge. 
While thus engaged she saw a huge serpent sunning himself upon the 
rocks; then another, and soon another; and she began to be very 
homesick and disheartened. 

In the evening her husband came home as before. After he had 
gone out to hunt the third time she began seriously to think of escap- 
ing from the terrible place in whicii she found herself, and firmly 
resolved to try to do so. She went into the forest to gather wood, 
and while standing there she heard a voice; turning toward the 
direction from which it seemed to come she saw a very old man. 
AVhen she looked into his face he said : " My poor grandchild, you are 
very unfortunate. The seeming man to whom you are married is evil 
and wicked. We have tried many times to kill him, but he is very 
cunning and crafty, hence we have not yet been able to destroy him. 
He is one of seven brothers. They are all great sorcerers, and like all 
such evil persons their hearts are not in their bodies. Their hearts 
are tied in a bunch of seven, which is carefully hidden" under the 
couch of the eldest one. You must now get it ami escape with it. 
My friends and I will help you all we can. Do as I have instructed 

you." 

Going quickly to the lodge, she found indeed the seven hearts 

tied in a bunch, which hung under the couch as the old man had 
said. Placing it under her robe, she fled out of the lodge as rapidly 
as possible and ran at top speed. Soon she heard a voice calling to 
her, " Stop ! Come back ! " but she rushed on as fast as she could. 
Then the voice said, " You may think that you can, but you can not 
escape me. no matter how yon may try." All her strength seemed to 
leave her : but at that moment her grandfather was at her side, say- 
ing. " I sliall aid you now, my grandchild," and. taking hold of her 
robe, he pulled her out of the water. Then for the first time she 
saw that she had been in the water all the time. A great black cloud 
was above them, and she saw the Lightning flash, and the Thunder 
began to shoot his arrows, and the Wind lashed the water into great 
foaming waves. In a few moments the young woman saw that her 
grandfather had killed a great and terrible serpent. She saw also 
standing on the shore men resembling her grandfather, who thanked 
her for the aid she liad been to them in killing the great serpent and 
his progeny: for the old grandfather had blasted tlie bunch of hearts 
with the lightnings and had shot them with his arrows, thus killinir 
the serpent and his offspring. These other men drew the great ser- 
pent out of the water and cut him in pieces. They stuck the head 
on a pole, whereupon the head appeared to her more fierce and ugly 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



T^] FICTION 89 



than before. Then her grandfather said, " Now, my grandchild, you 
must go iiome with us."' After packing suitable loads of the serpent's 
flesh they started for home, each with a load of the meat on his back.^" 

In a short time they came to what seemed to her to be a lodge, 
which they entered; there the young woman saw an old man whose 
hair was as white as snow and whose manner and voice were kind. 
To him the leader of the party said, " This woman of the hvunan 
family has helped us to kill the great serpent and his progeny." 
The old man, looking up at her, said, " My granddaughter, I am 
indeed thankful for the great help you have given us in killing that 
awful serpent and his wicked progeny." While she was sitting there 
the old man said, " My granddaughter, come here to my side." 
When she stood beside him he rubbed her body up and down with 
his hands, fortified with his orenda. Whereupon several young ser- 
pents crawled from her; these were killed at once by the men. Then 
the old man, remarking " You are now entirely well," bade her to be 
seated. 

While she remained in this lodge the younger people went out to 
hunt when they had the inclination to do so. They would bring corn 
for her to eat, as they knew she could not eat their food, which 
was in large measure the flesh of the serpents. They would tell her 
where they had gathered the corn, and they told her also the names 
of the people from whom they had taken it; she recognized the names 
of some of the people mentioned. 

One day the old man said to his sons, " Perhaps it would be bet- 
ter for you to take the young woman with you to hunt. She shall 
thus secure more orenda." The sons agreed to this, saying, " It is 
well." They told her that one of their number was missing, say- 
ing, " Deep in the great waters there is a terrible bloodsucker lying 
on a rock. One of our number shot at it, but he was not quick enough 
to avoid the rush of the great bloodsucker, and he was caught by it. 
He lies there on the rock, and we can not save him, nor can we kill 
the bloodsucker. But you will go with us, will you not ? " She con- 
sented to go, and they started for the place. 

When they arrived at the place they looked dtiwn into the water, 
tar into its depths, and there they saw the great bloodsucker. All 
these men went high up into the clouds and shot arrows down into the 
water at the great bloodsucker, but they all failed to hit it. Then 
they asked the young woman to shoot an arrow. Willingly she took 
her bow and arrows and shot into the w-ater at the monster. The 
great l)loodsucker moved. At her second shot there was a terrible 
struggle and commotion in the water. AAHien all became quiet again, 
and while she was still up in the clouds with the men, they saw 
that the great bloodsucker was dead. Just as soon as the mon.ster 



90 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

died their brother got loose and came up to them, and they all 
rejoiced and then went to their home. 

After the woman had been with them about a year the old man said 
to his sons: "I think that it is time that this young woman should 
go home to her mother," and to her the old man said, " You must not 
do any kind of work — pounding or chopping. You must keep quiet 
for ten days at your home." 

When the time was up they took her toward home. She thought 
that they walked along as ordinary people do. When they neared 
her mother's lodge they told her to do just as her grandfather had 
requested her to do. She then saw that she was standing in water. 
A heavy shower of rain had just passed over the earth. Her mother's 
home was near at hand and, bidding her well-going, they left her. 
She reached home in due time and her mother was delighted to see 
her long-lost child. 

She observed her grandfather's injunction for nine entire days 
without any desire to break his connnand. But on the tenth day the 
women of her family urged her to help them in their work. At first 
she refused, saying that she could not do so. They ui'ged her so hard, 
however, that finally she struck one blow with the corn-pounder, 
whereupon the mortar split in two and the corn fell to the ground. 
The orenda of the Thunders had not entirely left her yet. This was 
why the old man had enjoined her not to work for ten days. 

5. The Ghost Woman and the Hunter 

Once there was a young man in a village who was an orphan; he 
had neither relatives nor home. He lived in first one lodge and then 
in another. 

Once in the fall of the year when warriors were preparing to go to 
hunt deer the orphan wanted to go but could not get a chance to do 
so; no one wanted him as a companion. So he was left alone in the 
village. When all the men had gone he determined to go, too, and he 
went off by himself. Toward night he came to a sort of clearing and 
saw a lodge on one side of it near the bushes ; he looked into it but he 
could see no one. In the dooryard was a pile of wood and everything 
inside was comfortable; so the orphan decided to pass the night there. 
It looked as though the other hunters, too, had passed a night there. 
He made a fire, arranged a place to sleep, and lay down. About 
midnight he heard some one coming in and, looking up, he saw that 
it was a woman. She came in and stood gazing at him, but she said 
nothing. Finally she moved toward his couch but stopped; at last 
she said : " I have come to help yon. You must not be afraid. I 
shall stay all night in the lodge. I know you are going out hunting." 
The orphan said, " If you help me, you may stay." " I have passed 



.■^fJS] FICTION 91 



out of this world," said she: " I know that you are poor; you have no 
I'elatives ; you were left alone. None of the hunters would let you go 
with them. This is why I have come to help you. Tomorrow start 
on your journey and keep on until you think it is time to camp, and 
then I will be there." Toward daybreak she went out, starting off 
in the direction from which she said she had come. 

In the morning after preparing and eating some food he started 
on. In the afternoon when he thought it was about time to stop he 
looked for a stream. He soon found one and had just finished his 
camp as it became dark. In the forepart of the night the woman 
came, saying, " We must now live together as man and wife, for I 
have been sent to live with you and help you." The next day the man 
began to kill all kinds of game. The woman stayed with him all the 
time and did all the necessary work at the camp. 

When the hunting season was over, she said, " There is no hunter 
in the woods who has killed so much game as you have." They 
started for home. " We shall stop," said she, " at the first lodge, where 
we met " ; and they slept at the lodge that night. The next morning 
she said: "I shall remain here, but you go on to the village, and 
when you get there everybody will find out that j^ou have brought 
all kinds of meat and skins. One will come to you and say, ' You 
must marry my daughter.* An old woman will say, ' You must 
marry my granddaughter,' but do not listen to them. Eemain true 
to me. Come back next year and you shall have the same good luck. 
[This was at a time when the best hunter was the best man, the most 
desirable husband.] The next year when getting ready to hunt, a 
man will try to come with you, do not take him. No one would take 
you. Come alone. We will meet here." Before daylight they parted 
and he went on his journey with a great load of meat on his back. 

In the village he found that some of the hunters had got home, 
while others came soon after. All told how much they had killed. 
This lone man said, " I will give each man all he wants if he will go to 
my camp and get it." Accepting his offer, many went and brought 
back all they could carry. Still there w-as much meat left. Every- 
one who had a daughter or a granddaughter now asked him to come 
and live with the family. At last the chief came and asked him to 
marry his daughter. The orphan was afraid if he refused harm 
would come to him, for the chief was a powerful man. At last he 
consented and married the chief's daughter. 

The next fall the chief thought he had the best hunter for a son- 
in-law and a great many wanted to go with him, but the son-in-law 
said. " I do not think I shall go this year." All started oft', one after 
another. When all had gone he went alone to the lodge where he 
was to meet the woman. Arriving there he prepared the bed, and 
early in the night the woman came in; stopping halfway between 



92 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. asn. 32 

the door and the couch, she said, " I am sorry you have not done as 
I told you to do. I can not stay with you, but I decided to come ome 
more and tell you that I know everything you did at home and I can 
not stay." She disappeared as suddenly as she came. 

Day after day the orphan went hunting, but he saw no game. He 
ate all his provisions, and had to shoot small game — squirrels and 
birds — to eat, for he was hungry. Returning home, he told the people 
that he had seen no game. Tliis woman who had befriended the 
orphan, it was said, was a ghost woman. 

6. Hahnow.a (the Turtle) and His Forces ox the Warpath 

Hahnowa dwelt alone in his own lodge. He was a great warrior 
and had led many war parties successfully. 

One day the thought again came to him that he should go on the 
warpath. So following the lead of his desire, he made the necessary 
preparations and then boarded his canoe and paddled away along 
the river, singing as he went along, " I am on the warpath. I am on 
the warpath." "When he had gone but a short distance from his 
lodge he was hailed by a man who came running to the bank of the 
river calling out, "'Hallo, friend! Stop a moment! I will go too. 
AVe will go on the warpath together." So Hahnowa stopped at the 
landing, and there on the bank stood an elk. which said to Hahnowa. 
'• I should like to go with you on the warpath." Hahnowa replied : 
" Before giving my consent, I desire to see you run, for we might 
be defeated and then we shall have to nm for our lives, and unless 
w-e can escape through our speed we shall be killed and .scalped. Now, 
therefoie. run to that mountain and return." The elk ran with' 
great swiftness to the mountain and was back again in a very short 
time. But Hahnowa said, " You can not go. for you do not run fast 
enough. Only swift runners may go with me." 

Reentering his canoe. Hahnowa started otf, singing. " I am on the 
warpath. T am on the warpath." In a short time a man hailed him, 
saying, "Come back to the landing. I should like very much to go 
with you on the warpath." So Hahnowa turned and made a land- 
ing. Then he said to his friend, " You must run to show me your 
speed, for you can not go with me unless vou can run very swiftly. 
Therefore run to that second mountain and back at your highe.'~t 
speed." Then Senon " showed his great orenda and started off, l)ut he 
bad not got fairly started before Hahnowa called him back, saying. 
"Come back; that is enough. You can go." So they two got into 
the canoe and started off, the Hahnowa singing, " I am on. the war- 
path. I am on the warpath. But you. brother, smell quite strong." 

As thev paddled along they saw another man, who hailed them. 
Making a landing, they asked the man what he desired. In rei)ly he 



CURT I 
HEW IT- 



^■] FICTION 93 



said, " I see that you are on the warpath and I want to accompany 
you." The Turtle answered him. "If you are a good runner, I wiil 
take you. To test your speed you must run to yonder second moun- 
tain and back." So Kahehda,'^ for it was lie, turning, started on a run. 
In this attempt liis feet crossed and he stumbled and fell. But he 
quickly arose and had taken but a few steps farther when Turtle 
called to him to stop, telling hirni, " You will do. Come to the canoe." 

So the motley crew started off. with the Turtle singing, "We are 
on the warpath. You, brother, smell pretty strong. You, brother, 
have plenty of arrows." 

They had not proceeded far when a man from the bank hailed 
them, saying, " Stop I Come to the land, for I want to go with you 
on the warpath." So the Turtle and his friends landed and the 
Tmtle informed Degiyahgon '' that he must show great speed in run- 
ning to be acceptable as a companion on the warpath, and he said, 
" Run as swiftly as you can to yonder second mountain and return." 
Degiyahgon was instantly off, breaking and crashing through the 
boughs and shrubbery as he rushed headlong on his way. When 
Degiyahgon returned, the Turtle said, " You have failed in your trial 
of speed," and he and his friends again got aboard of their canoe and 
sailed away, singing as before. 

They had not proceeded far when a man hailed them from the 
shore, saying. " Bring the canoe to the land, for I desire to accom- 
pany you on the warjjath." The Turtle I'eplied, " I shall first come to 
see you run, for we can take only swift runners, as something may 
happen while we are gone which will make it necessary for us to run 
for our lives. So go to that second mountain yonder and return as 
speedily as it is possible for you to do so." So Sigwaon ^* raised him- 
self to run, when Turtle exclaimed, "Oh, j'ou will do! You may 
■come with me, too." 

So tiie picked band of warriors again started, the Turtle singing, 
" We are on the warpath. You, brother, smell pretty strong. You, 
brother, have many arrows. And you, brother, have a black face." 

It was now nearly night and they were going to make war on the 
Seven Sisters, whose dwelling place was not far distant. They soon 
arrived at the place and disembarked. The Turtle told his com- 
panions that each must choose the place best suited to his particular 
method of fighting. So Senon declared that he would sit near the 
fireplace and that he would attack with his odors the first person who 
approached the fireplace. Kahehda chose the pile of wood for fuel, 
boasting that he would attack with his arrows the first person who- 
■came out for wood. Sigwaon on his part chose the skin bucket in 
which the shelled corn was kept, declaring that he would assault the 
iirst person who should come for corn. Lastly, Turtle exclaimed 



94 SENECA FICTION, LEOENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

that he would station himself near the spring and that if anyone 
went to draw water he would fight him. 

So in the early morning of the next day tlie mother of the Seven 
Sisters arose and took a fire polcer to stir up the fire on the hearth. 
Then Senon, who was posted there, at once attacked her with his foul 
odors. The aged woman fell back nearly stifled and unable to open 
her eyes. Her daughters, the Seven Sisters, hearing the commotion, 
arose quickly to assist their mother. Seeing the man fighting their 
mother, they at once attacked him. At first he bravely repelled their 
assault, but they got chibs and fought until they had killed him. and 
they then threw his body out of doors. 

Now they started to make the fire, and one of their number- went 
out to bring in firewood. When she reached down to pick up a 
piece of wood she felt a severe blow on the arm, and found her 
arm full of hedgehog quills. She at once repelled this attack, and 
while she was fighting Kahehda her sisters came to her assistance. 
On seeing what had caused the trouble they took up pieces of wood 
and attacked Kahehda standing among the logs. They hit him 
repeatedly on the head mitil they had killed him, and then they 
threw his body away. 

Then one of the sisters needed dried shelled corn to prepare for 
making bread for the day's meal. Going to the bucket where it 
was kept and putting her hand into it, she instantly felt a sharp 
blow, and looking into the bucket she saw therein a huge Hagon- 
sadji.^'* She called her si.sters to her assistance, who at once resj)onded. 
Arming themselves with clubs they struck Hagonsadji many blows 
until he was dead, but by this time the sister who had been bitten 
by Hagonsadji was dead. 

Then the aged mother of the Seven Sisters asked one of the 
daughters to bring water from the spring. Going to the spring, she 
fitooped down to draw up the water, whereupon she was seized by Tur- 
tle. He caught her by the toe and lield on persistently; she tried re- 
peatedly, but she could not get him oft'. Then she walked back- 
ward, dragging him along. When she arrived at the lodge her 
mother was very angry and shouted. '' Throw him into the fire and 
let him burn up." Then Turtle laughed out loud and said. " You 
can not please me more than by casting me into the fii'e. for I came 
from fire and I like to be in it rather than in anything else." So 
the old woman changed her mind and said, " I will take him to the 
creek and drown 'him." Thereupon Turtle cried out in great agony, 
■" Oh ! do not do this. I shall die; I shall die if you do." He begged 
hard for his life, but it apparently availed him nothing. So the 
old woman and the six living sisters, seizing Turtle, ruthlessly 
dragged him along to the neighboring creek and cast him into it, 
thinking that he would drown; he, of course, naturally sank to the 



^^■-1^0 FICTION 95 

bottom. But in a f»w moments he rose to the surface of the water 
in midstream and. holding out his claws as if exhibiting scalps, he 
exclaimed in derision. " I am a brave man, and here is where I live," 
and he at once sank out of sight. 

7. The Old Man's Grandson and the Chief of the Deserted 

Village 

A certain grandfather and his grandson lived together. They were 
the only people of their tribe left. All the others had been killed by 
sorcerers. 

AA'^hen the boy became old enough he had bows and arrows given 
him by his grandfather, and he would go out hunting. As he grew 
older he hunted larger game, until he was old enough to kill deer. 
Each time the grandson brought home game the old man danced and 
rejoiced and told the youth the name of the game which he had 
brought in. 

One day the grandfather said: " Now, you are old enough to marry 
a wife. I should like to have a woman here to cook. You must go 
south and find a wife. The people there are good and healthy. None 
of them have been killed off. For an ordinary man to reach their 
village it is a journey of six years, but you will go much more 
quickly." The grandfather gave the young man. among other things, 
a pair of moccasins and sent him off. 

About noon of the first day the youth came to an opening in the 
woods. There he found a large village in the opening. He went to 
one lodge and then to another, but he found that they were all vacant. 
Then he went to the Long Lodge,'*' and he looked in; there he saw the 
dead body of a young woman, well-dressed, \\ ith beautiful ornaments, 
lying on a bench in the middle of the room. As he looked in. he 
thought, " I will go in and take those things. They will be good 
presents for my wife when I find one." So he went in, took off the 
bracelets and neck ornaments and then went out. After he was out- 
side of the Long Lodge he said to himself, " I think I will go home 
now and look for a wife another day." 

So he started northward, as he thought, running along quickly. 
After a while he came to a clearing, which, to his surprise, he found 
was the one he had just left; he saw the same village and Long Lodge, 
and he thought. "' Well, I must have made some mistake in the direc- 
tion." He took his bearings again and nurried on toward home. 
Again he came out in the same village, " It must be that this woman 
brings me back because I have taken her ornaments. I will give them 
back to her." So he went into the Long Lodge and put all the orna- 
ments back on the dead body and hurried homeward. On the way 
lie killed a bear. Skinning it and taking some of the best meat, he 



96 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

put it into the skin and carried it with him, running as fast as he 
could, hoping to reach home tiiat night. Once more he came out at 
the same Liong Lodge in the opening at the time it began to be dark. 
" AVell, this is wonderful," thought he. 

He made up his mind to spend the night in the Long Lodge, so 
he kindled a fire, spread out the skin, cooked his meat, and sat down 
to supper. As he ate he threw the bones behind him. Soon he 
heard back of him a noise which sounded like the gnawing of bones 
by a dog. " Perhaps it is a hungry ghost that does this," thought the 
young man. " Well, I will give it some meat." So he threw it pieces 
of meat and heard the sounds made as they were being eaten. After 
he had eaten his supper he got under the bearskin to sleep. But he 
.soon felt something begin to i)ull the skin at his feet. When the 
fire began to die out he arose quickly and stirred up the embers, 
putting on more wood. All was quiet, however, and he lay down 
again. After a while, as the fire began to go down again, something 
crawled over his body and came up to his breast. He threw his arms 
around it, wrapping it in the bearskin covering, and sprang to his 
feet. A terrible struggle now began between the man and his 
unknown antagonist. They wrestled from that place to the other 
end of the Long Lodge and then down along the other side of the 
room. When they had almost reached the place where they started 
the gray of the dawn came; instantly the body in his arms dropped 
to the floor and lay still. He lashed the bearskin around it closely; 
then, leaving it on the floor, he cooked his breakfast. 

After breakfast he was curious to know what was under the bear- 
skin, for he thought it must be something connected with the woman. 
Opening the bearskin carefully he found nothing but a blood-clot 
about the size of his fist. First, he made a wooden ladle with his 
flint knife. Then, heating water, he di.ssolved in it some of the 
blood. Forcing open the skeleton woman's jaws, he i)oured down 
her tlwoat some of the blood. Again he did the same thing. 

At length her breast began to heave. AA'hen he had given her half 
the blood she breathed, and when she had taken all the blood she said. 
" I am very hungry." The young man pounded corn and made thin 
gruel, with which he fed her; soon she was able to sit up, and in a 
-short time she was well again. Then she said : " This village was 
inhabited a short time ago. My father was the chief of it. He and 
all his people have gone south and they live now not far from here. 
Many men from the north wanted to marry me, and when I was 
unwilling to marry them they enchanted me in this place, so that 
my father and all his people had to leave, and I .was left here for 
dead." " Come ! I will go with you to him," said the young man. 

The young man and woman set out togetlier for the south, and they 
soon came to the village. The first lodge on the edge of the village was 



CDBTl 
HE 



™^] FICTION 97 



inhabited by a Cro\^ with a large family, who were very poor. The 
young man was left at a tree outside the lodge to converse with Crow. 
He told Crow the story of the Long Lodge and the recovery of the 
chief's daughter. The Crow hurried over to the lodge of the chief 
and said to the chief and his wife, " Your daughter has come to 
life." The old woman, taking a club, began to drive the Crow out of 
the lodge, saying : " You lying wretch ! You know that no one has 
ever come to life after being dead more than ten days." "Oh, well; 
do not beat him," said the chief, " it may be true that our daughter 
has come to life, though dead twenty days." " She has," said the 
Crow, " for she is over by my lodge." " Well, bring her here," said 
the chief. 

The two young people then came on invitation, and, as they were 
both willing, the young man became the chief's son-in-law. After 
they had been married a few days the young man told his wife to 
go and get the best bowl her father had, for he was sick at his 
stomach and wished to vomit. She brought the bowl, and he vomited 
it full of the most beautiful wampum. This was an act which young 
wizards are expected to perform after marriage. " Take that now to 
your father," said he. She took the bowl of wampum to her father 
as a gift from her husband. The old chief was delighted, and said: 
" That is the finest man I have ever seen. I knew that he was of 
good stock. This wampum will do me great good." 

Two or three days later the young man said to his wife : " You 
go and borrow your father's bow and arrows, for I want to go to 
hunt. All the young men of the village are to hunt tomorrow, and 
1 must go, too." Starting very early, each one went out alone to 
hunt deer. The Crow went with the young man, and he said, " I 
will fly up high and look all around to see where the deer are." The 
Crow saw ten deer some distance ahead, and, flying back, said to the 
young man : " I will fly behind those deer and drive them this way. 
You can kill all." The young man stood behind and waited until 
the deer passed by ; then he turned and, as all were in a line, he killed 
the ten with one arrow. The Crow said that in the village they never 
gave him anything but the refuse. " Oh ! " said the young man, 
" you can have one deer for yourself today." The Crow flew home 
with the news, and said : " What are all the other young men good for ? 
The chief's son-in-law has killed ten deer long before sunrise and 
the others have killed nothing." None of the other hunters had good 
luck that day. 

At night there was a feast and a dance in the Long Lodge. The dis- 
appointed hunters planned to take vengeance on the young man, the 
chief's son-in-law. When going around to dance he came to the 
middle of the Long Lodge, by means of witchcraft they made him sink 

94615°— 18 -7 



& 



98 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. akn. 32 

deep down into the ground. . But the Crow now called on his friend, 
the Turkey, to dig him up. The Turkey came and scratched until he 
dug down to the young man, and w-ith the aid of a bark rope, which 
the Crow had made, together they drew him up. 

The old chief now made up his mind to leave the viUage and the 
bad people, who were enemies of his son-in-law, and to go with the 
good people of the village to live at the lodge of his son-in-law's 
grandfather. They all w-ent and settled down there and lived 
happily. 

8. The Man Who Married a Buffalo Woman 

Near the river, at the place now called Corydon, in Pennsylvania, 
there lived a family of Indians. One of the boys arose very early one 
morning and went to the river. The air was foggy, but the boy heard 
paddling and soon saw two little people called Djogeon ^" in a canoe, 
who came to the place where he was and landed. One of them said : 
"We came on purpose to talk with you, for you are habitually up 
early in tlie morning. We are on a buffalo hunt. There are three 
buffaloes, two old and one young, which run underground. If they 
shoidd stop in this part of the country they would destroy all the 
people, for they are full of witchcraft and sorcery. In two days you 
must be in this place very early." 

When the time was up the boy went to the same spot on the river 
bank and in a short while the Djogeon came and said : " We have 
killed the two old buffaloes, but the young one has escaped to the 
west. We let him go because some one will kill him anyway. Now 
we are going home." When they had said this they went away. 

On the Allegany reservation the Seneca collected a war ]iarty 
to go against the Cherokee. One of the company was the fastest 
runner of the Seneca. Before they got to the Cherokee country they 
met the Cherokee and all the Seneca were killed e.xcept the fast run- 
ner. He ran in the opposite direction until out of their reach ; then he 
started home by a different road from the one on which the party 
had set out. The third day, near noon, he came to a deer lick, and 
while he sat there he saw tracks which looked like those of a very large 
bear; he followed these until they led to a large elm tree ; he found that 
the animal was not an ordinary bear, but one of the old kind, the 
great Ganiagwaihegowa,^' that eats people, and he said, " It matters 
not if I die, I must see it." Climliing the tree and looking down into 
the hollow in the trunk he saw the creature. It had no hair; its skin 
was as smooth as a man's. He thought : " I had better not attack that 
creature. I will go back to the deer lick." Getting down, he ran to 
the lick. Then he heard a terrible noise and, looking back, he saw 
the animal come down from the tree. Drawing back, he ran and 



^^;m -FICTION -. . .>• ...99 

jumped into the middle of the deer lick, sinking almost to his'Xvaist 
in the mud ; he could not get out. but he could with great difficulty 
take a single step forward. He saw the Ganiagwaihegowa coming 
toward the lick; when it got to theplace whence he leaped, it jumped 
after him. He dragged himself along, pulling one leg after the other ; 
the animal sank so it could scarcely move. The man at last got to 
solid ground, but the Ganiagwaihegowa sank deeper and deeper. 
AA'hen it reached the center of the lick it sank out of sight. 

The man ran some distance and sat down on a fallen tree. He did 
not know what to do; he was faint from hunger, having had nothing 
to eat, and was too tired to hunt. Soon a man approached and said, 
"You think you are going to die?" "Yes," he answered. "No; 
you will not ; I come to assist you. Go where I came from, off in this 
direction," he said, pointing to one side. " You will find a fire and 
over it a pot ; rest there and eat ; men will come and trouble you, but 
pay no attention to them. When you sit down to eat one will say, 
'Throw a small piece over this way '; another will say, ' Throw a bit 
over this way'; but pay no heed to them. If you throw even a bit, 
you are lost, for they will destroy you." 

He went as directed and found meat and hulled corn in the kettle. 
As he ate, it seemed as though a crowd formed in a circle around 
him, all begging for a portion. They kept it up all night, but he 
paid no heed to their begging. 

In the morning, after he had traveled a short distance, he met the 
same man who sent him to the kettle, who now said to him : " I am 
glad that you did as I told you. Now you will live. Go toward the 
east, and when it is near night sit down by a tree. I will come to 
you." 

He traveled all day. and near sunset he found a fallen tree and sat 
down. Soon the man came and said : " Follow my tracks a little way 
and you will find a fire and a kettle with meat and hulled corn in it; 
you will be trouljled as you were last night, but pay no heed to the 
words; if you escape tonight, you will liave no more trouble." 

He went as directed; he found the fire and the kettle hanging 
over it: the kettle was filled with meat and hulled corn. That night 
a crowd around him begged for food as they did the night befori.', 
but he paid no attention to them. After he had started in the morn- 
ing the man met him and said, "Keep on your way; you will meet 
no further danger, and will reach home safe and well." After going 
on a little way he turned to look at his friend, and saw that instead 
of being a man it was S'hagodiyoweqgowa.'" He went along, and to- 
ward night he began to think he had better look for game. He saw 
a deer, which he shot and killed ; then, building a fire, he roasted 
and ate some pieces of venison. He was now in full strength. 



100 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS ["th. ann. 32 

The next day he kept on, and in the afternoon he shot a deer. 
When night came he lay down by the fire, but he could not sleep. 
After a while he heard some persons coming to his fire — a couple 
of women, he thought. One asked, "Are you awake?" "Yes; I 
am awake," he replied. " AVell, my husband and I have decided to 
have you marry our daughter here," came the rejoinder. When she 
said this he looked at them, and they were attractive women, espe- 
cially the younger one. He consented to her proposal. He did not 
know where to go, and thought that if he married her he would have 
company and could find his way home after a time. The two women 
stayed all night. In the morning the mother said, " We will go to 
my home." They walked on until noon, when they came to a village 
where he thought a goodly number of people were living. He 
stayed with them a long time. 

One night he heard a drum sounding near by and heard his father- 
in-law say, " Oh ! Oh ! " The old man seemed frightened by the 
call. It meant that the little Buffalo, which had escaped from the 
Djogeon and lived under the hill, was going to have a dance and that 
all must cx)me. That morning they went to the place where the drum 
was beaten. The little Buffalo was chief of all these people. He had 
two wives. When they got to the place the whole multitude danced 
all night, and the little Buft'alo and his two wives came out and 
danced. He had only one rib '*" on each side of his body. 

The next morning the chief and his two wives came out and went 
around in the crowd. Being verj' jealous, he pushed the young 
Buffalo Man away from his wives and began fighting them ; then he 
went away again. The next morning the old father-in-law said to 
the man, " The two wives will soon come out and go to the stream for 
water; they will pass near you, but you must not speak or smile, for 
their husband is a bad, jealous man, and if you smile or speak he will 
know it at once and will harm you." He did not, however, obey the 
old man's words. The two women went for water, and as they came 
back they smiled and looked pleased, and the young man asked them 
for a drink; they gave it to him and went on. His father-in-law said, 
" You have not done as I told you; now the man will come out and 
say he has challenged a man to a foot-race, and he will name you." 
Soon the Buffalo Man came out and said : " I have challenged this 
man to run. If I am a better runner than he, I will take his life; 
if he is better than I, he may take mine." They were to begin the race 
early in the morning and were to run around and around the hill. 
The one who was ahead at sundown was to be the winner. The 
father-in-law said, " You must have an extra pair of moccasins to 
put on if yours get worn out." 

That morning the Buffalo Man came out, and saying, " Now start !" 
off he went. At noon his friends told his opponent to do his best, 



r^l^,^-] FICTION 101 

for the Buifalo Man was gaining on him, and had just gone around 
the turn ahead. Soon the man overheard the Buffaloes tell the 
Buffalo Man to do his best, for the other man was gaining on him. 
Shortly after noon the chief's son-in-law was only a few rods behind. 
and the Buffalo Man was tired; the latter began to go zigzag and 
soon afterward his opponent overtook him. 

The latter did not know at first how to shoot the Buffalo Man. 
He could not shoot him in the side, for it was one immense rib; so 
he decided to shoot from behind. He shot and the arrow went in up 
to the feathers, only a little of it protruding. The two ran around 
once more, and as they came near the stopping place the people en- 
couraged the man to shoot a second time. He did so, and the Buffalo 
fell dead. So the words of the Djogeon were fulfilled that some one 
would come who would kill the young Buffalo. The people crowded 
around the man and thanked him for what he had done. 

After this the old man said to the people, "All can go where they 
like." They separated, but he and his wife with their son-in-law and 
daughter went home. Then the mother-in-law said to the man, " Now 
you must get ready and go to see your mother." They started, the 
man, his wife, and mother-in-law. They were ten days on the road. 
It was the time of sugar making. When they got near his mother's 
lodge his wife said. " My mother and I will stop in these woods; your 
mother is making maple sugar and we will help her all we can." 
The young man saw his mother and at night went to the lodge, leav- 
ing his wife and her mother in the woods. 

In the night the wife and mother collected all the sap and brought 
a great pile of wood. The next morning when the mother and her 
son went to the woods they found no sap in the troughs under the 
trees, but when they got to the boiling place the big trough was full 
and a great pile of wood was near by. The work continued for some 
days. Then the old woman said to her son-in-law : " It is time for 
me to go home to my husband, and now you may be free. Have no 
hard feelings. I shall take my daughter with me. You must 
stay with 3'our mother. There are many women about here who want 
to marry you, but do not marry them ; there is but one that you should 
marry — the granddaughter of the woman who lives in the last lodge 
at the edge of the village. They are very poor and the girl takes care 
of her grandmother. You may tell the people when you get home 
that you saw buffalo tracks in the swamp; let them come out and 
shoot; the more they shoot the sooner we shall get home." 

The man told the people that he saw tracks in the swamp. The 
people went out, but did not get far before they overtook the Buffa- 
loes and killed them. The man knew all the time that they were 
Buffaloes, but in his eyes they seemed like people. As he had been 
absent from his people so long, and as the rest of his company had 



102 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

been killed, the Seneca thought him a great man. The women sought 
him as a husband for their daughters, but, refusing every offer, he 
married the granddaughter of the old woman who lived in the lapt 
lodge on the edge of the village. 

When the Buffaloes were shot the people thought they had killed 
them, but in reality they had not done so. The Buffaloes left their 
carcasses l)ehind, which the people ate, hue their spirits went back to 
the old man and they were Buffaloes again. '^'' 

9. A Woman and Her Bear Ixjver 

A man and his wife with two sons — one on the cradle-board yet, 
and the other three or four years old — lived in the woods. 

After a while the elder boy became punj' and sickly. The man was 
much troubled by this and began to think that his wife was to blame. 
Every day he set out to hunt, and the woman went to get wood and 
to dig wild potatoes. 

One daj' the man resolved to watch his wife; so he hid himself near 
the lodge instead of going to hunt. In a couple of hours the wife 
came out, gayly dressed, her face washed, and her hair oiled ; she 
walked quickly to the woods. He followed her .stealthily. She 
stopped at a large tree on which she tapped with a stick and said, 
" I am here again." Presently a noise as of scrambling was heard 
in the tree, and a great Bear came out of the hollow in the trunk and 
slipped quickly to the foot of the tree. After a while the woman 
went away, and the Bear again climbed the tree. The man set off', 
seeking wild potatoes. Finding a place where there were many good 
ones, he dug up a large quantity. 

The next day he took the woman there and dug up as many as she 
could carry; he then sent her home, saying that he would go hunting 
so that they could have a good supper. The himter then went 
straight to the tree in which lived his wife's lover, the Bear, and, 
tapping twice on it, said, " I am here again." The Bear soon stuck 
his head out, and the man shot an arrow at him which brought him 
to the ground. The hunter left the skin of the Bear; he mereh' 
opened his body and took out the entrails, which he carried home. 

The woman was glad and said to the little boy, " Your father has 
brought us a good dinner." She cooked the entrails and the wild 
potatoes. They all sat down to eat, and the woman ate very heartily ; 
but the man said that he was sick, and did not eat of the entrails. 
When she had nearly finished eating and her hands were full of fat, 
her husband said to her, " You seem to like to eat your lover." 
"What?" she said. "Oh! eat more, eat plenty," he replied. "I 
shall eat two or three mouthfuls more," she said. As she was doing 
this, he said again, " You seem to like to eat your husband." She 
heard him this time and knew what he meant. Jumping up, she ran 
out and vomited and vomited. Then she ran off into the woods to 



c 

HE 



i'ewitt] fiction 103 



the westward. The next day she took medicine, which caused an 
abortion, resulting in delivery of two bear cubs. Leaving them on 
the ground, she cut of! her breasts and hung them on an ironwood 
tree. 

A couple of days later the father said to the elder boy, " I think I 
must go after your mother; you stay in the lodge and take care of 
your little brother." Then he brought a bowl of water and put 
feathers in it, saying, " If anything evil happens to me the feathers 
will be bloody." 

He started west. The first day he found the cubs and breasts on 
the ironwood tree, which he knew came from his wife. 

After leaving the cubs the woman went on until she came to a 
village. She stopped in the first lodge at the edge of the village, 
where a family of Crows lived. The woman said that she was looking 
for a place to live, and, being a young woman, would like to get 
a husband. The old Crow said to one of his sons : " Run over to the 
chief's lodge, and tell him that there is a young woman here who 
would like to get married. Perhaps one of his sons would like to 
have her." The boy did as directed. "All right," said the cliief, 
" let her come over here." The woman went over. She had her hair 
pulled back and tied tight at the back so there were no wrinkles oa 
her face, and as her breasts were cut off, she looked like a young 
woman. One of the chief's sons married her. 

Two days later her husband appeared at the lodge of the Crows, 
asking whether they had seen such and such a woman. " I have come 
looking for my wife, who left me four days ago," said the man. '' Yes, 
such a woman came here two days ago. She is nuirried to one of the 
chief's sons." " Go over," said the Gagahgowa ^^ to one of his sons, 
■' and tell the chief that his daughter-in-law's husband has come." 
The young Crow went over and delivered the message. " Have you 
ever been married before? " asked the chief of his daughter-in-law. 
" No," replied the woman. " Then he lies," said the chief to the 
Crow's son. Turning to some of the warriors, he said : " We do not 
want such a fellow as that hanging around; go over and kill him." 
The warriors went over to the Crow's house, killed the man, and threw 
his body away. 

Immediately the feathers in the bowl were bloody, and the boy 
knew that his father was dead. The next day he started westward, 
carrying his little brother on his back. Following the trail, they 
found the two cubs lying on the ground. Then the little fellow on 
the cradle-board looked at them, then at the breasts on the tree, and 
he knew that they belonged to his mother. They went on until 
they reached the Crow's lodge, where they inquired, " Have you 
seen our father, who came after our mother? " "Oh, yes; the chief 
has killed your father, and your mother is at the chief's lodge. She 



104 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth ann. 32 

is the wife of one of his sons. Yon run over and tell the chief that 
his daughter-in-law's two sons have come after her." He went and 
told his message. " Have you ever had any children ? " asked her 
father-in-law and her husband. '' No," she said in a faint voice. 
" Go home," said the chief, " and tell them my daughter-in-law never 
had any children. She is a young woman. How could she have two 
sons? " Then, turning to the warriors, he said: " Eun over and kill 
those lying children. I do not want to have them around here." 
When his sons came home the Gagahgowa said : " They will kill those 
two boys. It is a pity. Let us hide them." When the warriors 
came the Gagahgowa said. "They have gone: they went Inick home, 
I think." 

The Crows cared for the boys. After a while the old Crow said: 
" Let us go away from here. Let us go far away into the woods 
where there will be good hunting. These little boys will bring us 
luck." The Crow family moved far away into the deep woods; they 
planted corn and beans and had good crops. The boys grew up and 
•hunted; they had great hick and obtained much game. The whole 
Crow family were fat and happy. 

After several years the old chief at the village said one day : " I have 
not seen that Crow family for a long time. Run over, somebody, and 
see how they are getting along." A runner. Haheshe,^^ went over and. 
finding the Crow place in ruins, came back and said that their lodge 
had tumbled down and that they had gone away somewhere. " Go," 
said the chief, " a number of you, and find them. They must be 
somewhere. Do not come back until ypu know where they are living 
now." After a long search they found tlie Crow family living in 
happiness and plenty, far away in the woods. When they told the 
chief he said, " Let us all go there. There must be good hunting in 
that place." 

As soon as they were on the road it began to snow and to grow 
cold. It continued to snow heavier and faster, the snowflakes being 
almost as large as a man's hand. The young chief and his wife hur- 
ried on ahead. She had a child on her back. They reached the 
Crows' lodge almost frozen to death and covered with .snow. The 
rest of the family were either frozen to death, buried in the snow, or 
forced to turn back. The snow was light near the Crows' lodge, but 
as there was a great pile of deer carcasses near it, they had to carry 
them in. The elder brother was employed at this work when his 
mother and her husband came. Calling out. " My son ! " she came 
near him. He pushed her back with a forked stick. She put her 
baby on him. He threw it on the ground in the snow. Just then the 
old woman of the Crows came out and said : " You should not do so. 
If your mother is wicked, you should not be likewise. Let them come 
in." And Gagahgowa, the old Crow, allowed them to live there. 



--S] FICTION 105 

10. The Fox and the Rabbit 

One winter a man was going along quietly over a light, freshly 
fallen snow. All at once he saw another man coming toward him. 
The other man when within hailing distance shouted, "I am Ongwe 
las" (i e., I am a man-eater). The first man decided to run for his 
life. Starting on a run, he circled round and round, trying to escape, 
but the other man, who was also a swift runner, was gaining on him. 
When the first man saw that he could not escape, he took off his 
moccasins and, sa3dng to them, " You run on ahead as fast as you 
can," he himself lay down and became a dead rabbit, half rotten, and 
all dirt}' and black. 

When the second man came up and saw the black, dirty old carcass 
and the tracks ahead, he ran along after the moccasins. When he 
caught up with them and saw that only moccasins had been running 
on ahead of him, he was very angry, thinking, " This fellow has 
surely fooled me. The next time I will eat the meat anyhow." 

Thereupon the man-eater turned back. As expected, the dead 
rabbit was gone, and he followed the tracks. He soon came upon a 
man who sat rolling pieces of bark, making cords. The man-eater 
asked, " Have you seen a man pass by here ^ '' No answer came from 
the cord-maker. Again he asked and then pushed the cord-maker 
until the latter fell over; whereupon he answered, "Yes; some one 
passed here just now." The pretended cord-maker had sent his 
moccasins on again. 

The man-eater hurried on, and the cord-maker, springing up, ran 
on a little and then turned himself into an old tree with dry limbs. 
He had made a circuit and came in ahead of the man-eater. When 
the latter came to the tree, he said, " I believe that he has turned 
himself into a tree; " so, punching the tree, he broke off a limb that 
looked like a nose, and that fell like dead wood. Then the u\n-eater 
said, " I do not think that it is he," and started off again on the trail 
of the moccasins. 

When he overtook the moccasins he thought, " I now believe that 
the tree was the man, and that he has fooled me again." He hurried 
back; when he came to the spot where the tree had been it was gone, 
but where he had broken oft" the limb he found blood. Then he knew 
that the tree was the man he was seeking, and he followed the tracks. 

When the man saw that his enemy was after him again, he fled 
until he chanced to come upon the body of a dead man, which he 
pushed on the path. When the man-eater came up, he said, " I will 
eat him this time; he shall not fool me again. I will finish him." 
Then he ate the putrid carcass. The othoi' man thus escaped his 
enemy. 

[It is said that the man with the moccasins was a rabbit, while the 
man-eater was a fox.] 



106 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. h 

11. The Snake with Two Heads 

In olflen times there was a boy who was in the habit of going out 
to shoot birds. 

One day in his excursions he saw a snake about 2 feet long with 
a head at each end of its body. It so happened that the boy had a 
bird and, dividing it in two parts, he gave a portion to the snake in 
each mouth. 

The next day he fed it again ; and the youth made up his mind to 
do nothing but hunt birds to feed the snake. He went out every day 
and killed many birds and the snake grew wonderfully large. The 
boy, too, became a very good shot ; he even killed black squirrels and 
larger game to feed the snake. One day the misguided youth took his 
little sister along with him and pushed her toward the snake, which 
caught her with one of its heads and ate her up. 

The snake ke])t growing and ate larger and larger game. It de- 
A'oured anything the boy brought to it. At last it formed a circle 
around the entire village of his people. The two heads came near 
together at the palisade gate, and -they ate up all the people who came 
out. At last onh' one man and his sister remained. AVhen the snake 
had swallowed enough persons it dragged itself off to the top of a 
mountain and lay there. 

That night the man who was saved dreamed that he must make 
a bow and arrows and take certain hairs from his sister's person and 
wind them around the head of each arrow; then he was to anoint the 
end of each arrow with blood from his sister's catamenial flow. 

When the man arrived near the mountain he shot an arrow at the 
monster, which struck it and worked into its body ; and every arrow 
that the man shot did likewise. Finally the snake began to vomit 
what he had eaten. Out came all the people in pieces — heads, arms, 
and bodies, and wooden bowls — for the people had tried to defend 
themselves with every kind of weapon that they could grasp. The 
snake then began to writhe and squirm violently and at last it rolled 
down into the valley and died. 

12. A Hunter Pursued by Genonsgwa^^ 

Among a certain people in times past four warriors decided to go 
off on a hunting expedition. In order to reach their destination they 
had to ascend a large stream in canoes. Now, it is said these men 
were the inventors of bark canoes. 

The eldest member of the party said, " AVe will go and land at a 
pomt which is called Kingfisher's Place." They had then been out for 
several days, and so after he had told them this they felt glad to 
know that soon they would land somewhere. They entered the 



^^Ewn-r] FICTION 107 

mouth of an affluent of the stream upon which they first started and, 
having arrived at their destination, the leader of tlie party said, 
" This is the place." After they had landed and established their 
camp the leader said to his comrades, " Now, you must hunt and 
bring into the camp all the game you can." It was then early in the 
summer. He told each one to do the best that lay in his power, with 
a strict command to observe the usual fasts and injunctions. 

In the morning of the day following their arrival at the King- 
fisher's Place the leader in behalf of his men and himself besought 
the Stars, the Moon, and the Sun to prosper them and to give them 
a large measure of success in killing an abundance of game for their 
larder. Being expert hunters, they soon had plenty of meat and 
furs; the meat was dressed and properly cured, while the skins were 
prepared for tanning later. 

One day one of the hunters said : " I am going a little farther away 
than usual. I am hunting elks." But the leader said to him : " You 
must be careful in all that you undertake. No man must take any 
chances by going far out of the usual bounds, for I fear something 
evil may come to us." 

Now, it so happened that one of the hxuiters was exceedingly stub- 
born and would not accept advice from any source. So, without 
regard for the timely caution of his chief, he went farther than he 
had intended to go, after an elk. When night came all the hunters 
reached camp safe, except this stubborn man. As the others gath- 
ered around their fire at night they discussed his probable fate if he 
had gone too great a distance, reaching the conclusion that he had 
gone farther away than he had intended to go. 

Now, the stubborn man had traveled all day. When night came 
on he erected a brush lodge and kindled a bright fire. He had en- 
camped near a sti-eam. Soon he heard in the distance voices which 
seemed to be those of human beings. Looking across the stream he 
saw on the farther bank what he believed to be two women, one 
carrying a baby which seemed to be very fretful, for the woman 
sat down and nursed it continually. The hunter, who was deceived 
as to the true character of the supposed women, was delighted to 
see people of any kind at that time. 

Now, the women saw him at the moment he looked across the 
stream to learn what kind of people were making the sounds he had 
heard ; and one of them hailed him with " Brother, how did you cross 
the stream?" It seemed strange to him that these women should 
call to him from so great a distance, but he told them to cross just 
below the point at which they then were and to come directly toward 
his fire and camp. The women kept on asking him, however, how he 
had crossed, but he answered only as before. Nevertheless, the 
women continued to say, " Tell us. You must have crossed in some 



108 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. « 

place." The hunter, still dissembling, said, " Yes ; I did cross right 
there where I have shown you." While he talked to them he reached 
the conclusion that these women were not human beings, but that 
they must be Genonsgwa, of whom he had heard so much in the 
traditions of his people. Nevertheless, they were clothed like the 
women of his people, and one of them was quite beautiful in form 
and feature. 

One of the women asked him if she could not stop with him 
overnight. The young hunter replied, " Yes; if you will come across 
the stream." After looking at them more closely, he was firmly 
convinced in his mind that they were not women of the human 
species. Then one of the women said to her companion, " We will 
go on a little farther; perhaps we may find a ford." Ascending 
the stream a short distance, they came to a footbridge consisting of 
a fallen log, on which the man had crossed. One of the women said 
to the other. "This is surely the place where he 'crossed." 

When the hunter saw them crossing on the footbridge, he went 
quickly some di.stance downstream and then, crossing at a ford, he 
again ascended the stream to a spot opposite his camp. 

The moment that the women arrived at his camp fire the hunter 
became afraid, because of their actions. On looking across the 
stream they soon saw that the man was then where they themselves 
had just been, and one of them at once called to him: " Why do you 
run from us? Nothing will happen to you, so come back here. We 
will do you no harm." Making no reply to these challenges, the man 
saw one of the women pick up his tomahawk and draw her finger 
across its edge, saying, " I do wonder whether this would kill a per- 
son or not? " The hunter shouted to her, "Yes; it can take a per- 
son's life, so put it down at once, le.st it do you harm." She laid 
down the tomahawk and became very angry, because she saw that 
the hunter was determined to keep out of her way. As these women 
showed so great anger, the hunter felt sure they were in fact Genon- 
sgwa. 

Realizing that they were determined to reach him, the hunter told 
them to come across the stream directly to the point where he then 
stood, assuring them that he would remain there until they arrived. 
One of the women had requested him several times to return to the 
opposite side of the stream, but his only reply was, " You. yourself, 
come here." This answer only made her angry. Finally the two 
women started for the footbridge, telling the hunter to wait for 
them, and again he assured them that he would do so. But when he 
saw them crossing he descended the stream and recrossed it at the 
ford: so when they arrived at the place where he had said he would 
await them, he was back at his own camp. 



^"/wS] FICTION 109 

The women could not walk side by side, but one had to follow the 
other. The younger one carried the baby. When they saw him back 
at his own fire, they became quite enraged, and one of them said to 
him, "A time will come when I shall get at you." The hunter re- 
plied, " You kill human beings, and this is the reason why I do not 
want you to reach me." One of the women tauntingly replied, "On 
the other hand, you are not able to kill anybody." Then the hunter 
said, " You are very angry now, but I am about to show you that I 
can kill you." Drawing his tomahawk, he struck a huge rock, which 
crumbled into small stones from the blow. " Well ! " said one of the 
women, " I do believe that he can kill some persons." Picking up his 
bow and arrows, the hunter aimed a shot at a tree, which he hit with 
terrific force. Seeing his skill, one of the women said, " There, he is 
really a man to be feared," and she showed signs of astonishment at 
his feats. The younger woman exclaimed, " We have now come into 
contact with Thunder (i. e., Hinon), it seems." But the elder one 
said: "Now, I am determined to work my will. He is dodging 
around in an attempt to escape, but I shall do what I intended to do 
at first." 

While they were talking it grew dark and, night coming on, the 
hunter could not see them but he could still hear them converse to- 
gether. The elder woman was angry to think that he had endeavored 
to avoid them in every way. Having discovered who they were, the 
hunter was very cautious in his movements and continually on his 
guard lest they come on him unawares. Finding that, under cover 
of the darkness, they were recrossing the stream on the footbridge, 
he went down under the water, where he remained, going up and 
down in the middle of the stream bed. 

When the elder woman could not find the hunter her anger was 
wrought up to a high pitch against him. He remained in the water 
until daylight, however, when coming up out of the stream he 
started off toward the camp of his fellow hunters. He was a very 
swift runner and possessed good staying powers on the race course; 
but when it was liearly midday he heard a voice behind him saying: 
" Now I have caught up with you. Now you are within my reach." 
(The other members of this band were sad at the loss of this man, and 
so they had not gone out to hunt on this particular day.) When the 
fleeing hunter saw the woman overtaking him he put forth his best 
efforts to maintain his exhausting pace, but he felt his strength was 
fast failing him. At every sound of her voice he fell to the ground 
from the effect of her orenda.^' He knew by her manner that she was 
greatly enraged at him for attempting to escape from her. 

Seeing that he could not possibly escape her by running he decided 
to climb a tree. He did this none too soon, for he had just reached a 
hiding place in the thick upper branches when the elder of the women 



'110 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (ETh. ANN\p2 

came to the tree. Like all Genonsgwa she could not look up into the 
tree, for they are prevented from doinsi so because of the stony cover- 
ing of their bodies. In a short time the younger of the women came 
up bearing the baby. Having nursed the child she said, " We will 
now hurry." Like hei- mother she could not look up into the tree, 
and so she did not see the man. Then the elder said, '* I shall keep on 
for the reason that he is probably only one of a large hunting party." 
As soon as the child had finished nursing she desired to know how far 
the man was ahead of them. 

Taking a small, animate finger ^* from her bosom, the elder woman 
)>laced it on the palm of her hand and asked it where the man was 
at that time. In reply the finger stood on end, pointing directly at 
the man in the tree. But the women, not understanding this, were 
somewhat puzzled. While they were thus perplexed the hunter, real- 
izing in a moment the priceless value to them of the animate finger, 
decided to steal it, if possible. So, slyly slipping down the tree, he 
struck the ground with a bound, and before the two women realized 
what had happened he had snatched the finger from them and had 
made good his escape. With a wail of despair the Genonsgwa women 
called to the man to give them back the finger, saying, " You will 
cause us much unnecessary trouble if you do not return the finger to 
us." But, finding the finger of great service to him, he paid no heed 
to their pleadings. 

He could run .nuch faster since he got possession of the finger, as 
it was his adviser and guide, indicating to him clearly the path to be 
taken. He consulted it to learn how far he was from the camp of hio 
friends and in what direction the camp was located. After asking 
it these question-, he would place the finger on the palm of his hand, 
when it would point in a certain direction. After running some dis- 
tance he would consult again this animate finger. At last it did not 
stand at an angle but pointed horizontally, and the hunter knew that 
he had arrived very near the camp of his fellows. Having reached 
the camp, he ate some food and regained his strength. He then told 
his comrades that two Genonsgwa women were following him closely, 
although it is said that after they lost the animate finger they could 
not go much faster than a slow run. When the hunter liad told his 
story the chief of the party said, " We must gather up all our things 
and go home tomorrow." 

The next day, just as they had placed all their things in the canoe 
and had pushed off from shore, they saw the elder of the women, who 
called from the bank: " Give me back what you have stolen from me. 
If you will return what belongs to me, you shall be successful; you 
shall always have good luck." She was weeping and was evidently 
in great distress. Then the chief of the hunting party asked : " What 
did you take from her? It may be true that we shall have greater 



S°/JS] FICTION 111 

success if you return it to her. I think you would better do so. 
Show me what you took from her." The young hunter then drew 
out the animate finger and showed it to him. The chief at once said, 
" Let her have it again." The hunter replied : " It is well. I sup- 
pose she will never molest us again." ■ 

Now, all the party were aware that the woman was a Genonsgwa. 
Placing the animate finger on the palm of his hand, the hunter held 
it out as far as he could over the stream toward her. In reaching 
over the water she lost her balance and fell into the stream. She 
sank at once, and all that the hunters saw was bubbles arising from 
the water. Then the A'oung hunter said, " Let us be off quickly." He 
retained the animate finger, which he afterward used in all his 
hunting expeditions. 

The party' reached home safe in due time. The young hunter be- 
came noted for his skill, owing to the animate finger, which he always 
consulted and which would always point out where he would find 
whatever game h^ wanted to kill — bear, elk, beaver, or pigeons. 

So it happened that ever afterward he had a great supply of all 
things good to eat and of many fine furs and feather robes. 

13, The Grandmother and Her Granddaughter 

There was a grandmother living with her granddaughter. They 
had a skin of some kind for their blanket, the hair of which had 
largely worn off. Suddenly they found that the skin had become 
alive -*^ and was angr_y. and with all their might they ran for their 
Jives. They heard the skin coming in fierce pursuit and it seemed 
very near to them. Then the grandmother began to sing, saying in 
her song, " My granddaughter and I are running our best for life ; 
my granddaughter and I ai'e running our best for life." At the end 
of the song she could scarcely hear the sound of the animate skin 
following them. Not long afterward she heard it more plainly, but 
then they were near home. When they reached the lodge, the animate 
skin was so near it almost caught them. When they jumped throug!i 
the door the skin clawed at them, scratching their backs, but they 
got in. The skin was a bear. The old woman and her grand- 
daughter were chipmunks. Chipmmiks now have stripes on their 
backs as the result of the scratches received by the two mentioned 
above. 

14. The Woman Who Became a Snake from Eating Fish ^^ 

In the old times a young man and his wife lived together very 
happily in a village. The young man had a hunting ground one 
day's journey from the village. There in the forest he had a lodge. 



112 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. « 

He usually asked his wife to go with him. She replied always that 
she would be very glad to go and to have a good time there; there- 
upon he said, " Let us make ready and go." They would set out 
on their journey and would reach the place in the evening. After 
making a fire and cooking their supper they would spend the evening 
pleasantly. 

The day after one such night the man went out and found plenty 
of game. He had like success on the second and third days. Every- 
thing seemed to be auspicious. 

On the fourth day, while the man was gone, the woman saw many 
fish in the neighboring stream when she went for water and decided 
that she could catch some. So she caught several in the water 
basket. "What good luck I have had," said she; "my husband will 
be surprised to have fish for supper." She cooked and ate half of 
the fish and put the rest away for her husband. After a while she 
began to be thirsty. Going to the water basket she found it empty, 
so getting down on her hands and knees she began to drink from 
the stream. After a while she thought that she would stop drinking, 
but being still very thirsty, she drank more ; then she drank still more, 
and, on raising herself, she saw that she was turning into a snake. 

Meanwhile her husband came home. He did not find his wife in 
the lodge and seeing no water basket, he thought she had gone for 
water. Hurrying to the stream, he arrived there just in time to see 
her lower parts become those of a snake. She told him what had 
happened with regard to the fish — that she had had such a hunger 
for them that she had eaten a good many; and that she was sorry, 
very sorry, to leave him, but that she must go to the lake into which 
the stream flowed. She said, further, that in the lake was a serpent 
with which she had to fight a great battle, and that he might go to 
look on, and that he should burn tobacco for her success in the fight. 

The woman floated down the stream, and her husband followed her. 
He saw the great battle in the lake. During this struggle the ser- 
pents would raise their heads from the water higher than a great 
lodge, and they fought and fought fiercely. She conquered the other 
serpent, but her husband did not wait to see the end. He went home. 

After a while the husband was told in a dream that he must make a 
Dasswood woman and dress her up. He did this, using his wife's 
clothes. The figure became just like his former wife. In another 
dream he was told that he must not touch the basswood woman for 
ten days. He refrained from touching her for nine days. But on 
the tenth day — she was so like his former wife — he touched her, 
whereupon she disappeared forever, there being nothing left in her 
place but a basswood stick. 



Sew,'tt] fiction 113 

15. Gaqga (the Crow) Makes a Journey and Kills Many People 

A man, a Gaqga, was traveling. He did not know whence he came, 
nor whither he was going. As he journeyed along he continually 
thought: "How did I come to be alive? Whence did I come? 
Whither am I going?" 

After traveling a long time, he saw smoke through the forest, and 
approaching it, he found four hunters, named Djodjogis.-" Being 
afraid to go near them, he hid in the thickets and watched them. TJie 
next morning, after they had departed to hunt, Gaqga crept up to 
their camp and stole their meat, which he carried into the woods, 
where he made a camp for himself. He was lonely and said, " I wish 
there was some other people here." 

One morning he saw that some person was living west of his camp. 
Going to the lodge, he found a man, his wife, and five children ; they 
were Djoniaik " people. Gaqga ate the youngest child first and then 
he ate the other four; in the meanwhile the father and the mother 
strove to drive him away, but they could not. Then, leaving old 
Djoniaik and his wife crying for their children, he went home. 
Some time after this he saw another camp off in the southeast, where 
he found a family of Ganogeshegea ^^ people. Being afraid of the old 
people, he ran off, but they ran after him and beat him on the head 
until they had driven him far away. Then the man said, " Is it not 
a shame that such little fellows should beat me," but he dared not go 
back. 

Now he roamed over all the forest, but he could not find his camp. 
At last, saying, " Well, let it go ; I do not care," he walked on toward 
the north. Just before dark he saw a camp. Going cautiously 
toward it, he saw therein four men and a large quantity of meat. 
That night he hid in the woods. Next morning, looking toward the 
camp, he again saw the four hunters, and thought, " I will wait 
until they have gone to hunt and then I will get their meat." 

Soon after this he heard the hunters moving around ; then all be- 
came quiet and he concluded that they had gone. He crept slowly 
toward the camp, but when he reached it he could not find a bite of 
meat. These were the same four brothers from whom he had stolen 
before. They had now finished hunting, and had packed their meat 
and started for home. Disappointed by this failure, he walked on; 
toward night he saw a camp, and, creeping near it, he again saw 
the four hunters. He listened to what they were saying. One said, 
" I wonder who stole our meat that day." Another said : " I think 
that man is walking around in the woods. I think his name is 
Gaqga." "Oh," thought Gaqga, "they are talking about me. They 
will be on the watch. How can I get their meat?" Then he said, 
"I wish them all to sleep soundly." They fell asleep, and he went 
94615°— 18 8 



114 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

up boldly and took all their meat and hid it in the woods, saying, 
" This is the kind of man I am." 

The next morning the four hunters missed their meat. One said, 
" Who has stolen our meat ? " Another said : " I dreamed tliat I saw 
Gaqga around here. I saw him go off toward the southwest." Then 
all said, " Let us follow the direction given by the dream." They 
started and soon came to the place where Gaqga was camped. He 
had been out all night and was now sleeping. One of the men sai.d? 
"Let us kill him." "No," said another; "let him live; he did not 
kill us while we were asleep." They took the meat and went away. 

When Gaqga awoke he was very hungry, but the meat was gone. 
"Well," thought he, "I must go and hunt for more meat," but he 
could find none. About midday he heard the noises made by people. 
He listened and then went on to a lodge. Some one inside was sing- 
ing and the song said : ' Gaqga is coming. Look out. Be careful, 
Gaqga is coming." " Why does he sing about me? " thought Gaqga; 
"I will go inside and find out." He found a man and his wife and 
four children. Gaqga said, " I have come to stay a few days with 
you." " Very well," replied the man of the lodge. During the night 
Gaqga ate all the children ; then he lay down and slept. The next 
morning the old people said, " Where are our children ? " Gaqga 
replied : " I dreamed somebody carried off your children, and my 
dream told which way he went. I will go with you to hunt them." 
After they had gone some distance Gaqga said : " The man lives on 
that high cliff. I can not go with you for I do not like the man who 
lives there. I will wait here." As soon as the father was out of 
sight Gaqga went away. Now he went on until he came to a place 
where he found many of his own people; they were having a great 
dance, and he sat down to watch them. 

Soon Hanisheonon " [the Muckworm] came from the east. The 
people stopped dancing and ran in every direction, but Hanisheonon 
pursued them, and, catching them one after another by the neck, threw 
them off dead. Gaqga, who sat watching, said : " What sort of a man 
is that ? I wish he would see me ; he can not throw me off dead in that 
way." After killing many of the Gaqga people, Hanisheonon started 
toward the west, with Gaqga following him, but Hanisheonon kept 
on his course and did not regard the noise behind him. At last he 
stopped and, looking back, asked, " What do you want? " " I do not 
want anything," said Gaqga; "I have just come to be company for 
you." " I do not want 3'our company," said Hanisheonon. Gaqga 
was frightened. Both stood still. Suddenly Hanisheonon sprang at 
Gaqga and caught him, but Gaqga screamed so loudly that all his 
people who had run awaj' from Hanisheonon heard the call and came 
to his aid. They flew at Hanisheonon and pecked him until he was 
dead. 



SwS] FICTION 115 

16. OiiOHWA (the Owl) and the Two Sisters 

Two sisters of a tribe lived near the edge of a village clearing. 
The chief dwelt near the center of it. The mother of these two sis- 
ters was accustomed to pick up deer droppings to put into the hominy 
instead of venison or fish. This was a custom practiced only by 
widows and by families who from some misfortune were too poor 
to obtain meat or fish. 

One day one of the sisters asked her- mother to let her have some of 
the droppings to mix with the hominy which she was preparing. 
Her aged mother, who was a widow, replied, " You should be ashamed 
of yourself to ask for such things, for you are a fine-looking woman 
and should marry the chief's son; then you would not be obliged to 
seek such things for meat, for you would have a good hunter to pro- 
vide you with all the meat and fish you required." 

Somewhat abashed, the daughter answered, "Well, if my sister 
will go, I will go; and if he will take us both, it will be well." So 
they set to work and prepared the usual marriage bread, and when 
they were ready to start they asked their mother how the young man 
looked. She replied : " He is a handsome man, with a hooked nose. 
Beside the fire he has two deer heads, which are alive and open and 
shut their eyes whenever fuel is placed on the fire. This yomig man 
is very strong in magic — is possessed of potent orenda, and so he has 
many wild deer around his lodge. You must be very careful lest you 
be deceived by his uncle, who also has a hooked nose and very closely 
resembles his nephew. He will attempt to seduce you on the way. 
The first large lodge you see is the one to which you must go." 

So the daughters started and went along slowly. At last they saw 
a man running around old stumps trying to catch something. He did 
not see them coming. Shortly after they came in sight of him he 
stood up — protruding from his mouth was the tail of a mouse. 
Seeing the girls, he said, "Ho, ho, where are you two going ? " " We 
are going to propose to the chief's son," they replied. " Well, what is 
his appearance ? " was his next question. " Our mother said that he 
had a hooked nose," came their answer. The wily old man said, 
" Look at me I Is not my nose hooked ? " " Yes," said the elder sister, 
" perhaps this is the man." So they went to his lodge, which was an 
old, ugly-looking place. He said to them that he had to get his deer 
heads, so he got some old heads which his nephew had cast away. 
His mother and his little boy sat by the fire. He told them to keep 
quiet and they would have bread shortly. The child cried out, 
" Father, give me some bread." The old man said, " Why do you not 
call me brother? I am your brother." Then the old man shoved the 
little boy aside and sat down near the girls. One of them said, " We 
want to see the live deer you have around the lodge." So they went 



116 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Feth. axn. 32 

outside. This place was not far from that of the nephew. The old 
man called the deer, but they ran away. Then he said to the girls, 
" You are not mystically pure enough to come near those deer, for 
they are very subtle." 

The girls spent the night with the old man. His bed had but few 
skins, and one of the girls asked him, " Why do you not have a better 
bed?" "Oh, my mother is washing the turkey-feather blanket in 
the creek," he declared. 

During the night some person came to the door and said, " Old 
man, you are wanted at the lodge of your nephew." The old man 
paid no heed to the summons. He was again summoned by the words, 
" Come ! your nephew wants you." Then he declared that he sup- 
posed that the people had become frightened at something and 
wanted him to call a council ; so he started off. After he had gone the 
girls said, "Let us go over and see what is happening." AVhen they 
arrived at the lodge they heard loud peals of laughter, and so they 
peeped through crevices in the bark walls; they saw the old man 
dancing and before the fire a number of mice roasting on spits. As 
the old man passed them in his dance he would grasp one and eat it 
hot and burning, and everybody would laugh. 

The girls ran back to the lodge of the old man and placed rotten 
logs full of ants in their bed in order to deceive him into thinking 
that they were lying there asleep. Then, taking their basket, which 
still contained some bread, thej' went outside the lodge to watch. 
When the old man returned they peered into the lodge to see what 
he would do. They saw him quietly creep into the bed between the 
two logs. Soon he began to be bitten by the ants. Thereupon he 
turned over, saying, " Do not be jealous of your sister " ; but as the 
biting continued, he repeated his injunction. Finally, the ants made 
it so uncomfortable for him that he sprang out of bed, and then 
realizing that he had been lying between logs of wood full of ants, 
he bitterly upbraided his mother, although she knew nothing of the 
matter. 

The girls then went to the lodge of the nephew, who willingly 
took them for his wives. 

It was not long after this that the old man informed the people 
that they, must close up the smoke-holes of their lodges, for a great 
pestilence was coming among them. So they did this. Then the 
old man, after sharpening a beech rod, carried it wherever he went. 
He made a great noise, saying: " Blue beech is coming. Blue beech 
is coming." When he arrived at his nephew's lodge he cast the 
beech rod down the smoke-hole, and it entered the breast of his 
nephew and killed him. 

The next morning, when the people heard of the death of their 
chief, everyone began to weep for him. By the death of the nephew 



ClIUTIN. 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 117 



the old man became the chief. He said that some one must marry 
the girl wives of the dead chief; so he called all the young men to- 
gether, but before they could speak their minds the wily jld repro- 
bate exclaimed, " None of you will do." He had asked each one for an 
expression of opinion, but would not permit anyone to answer him. 
Then he closed the conference by saying, " I must marry them my- 
self." But the girls would not remain and quickly escaped to their 
own home. 

The old man was an owl, but the nephew was an eagle. 

17. A Great Snake Battle 

In old times some Indians had a great battle with snakes, and this 
is how it happened. 

A certain man near tha village of the Indians was himting one 
day. He found a rattlesnake, which he mercilessly tormented. He 
tied a piece of bark aromid its body and passed another piece of 
bark through the body. Then, fastening the snake to the ground 
and building a fire, he said, " We shall fight," as a challenge to the 
snake people.' Afterward he burned up the snake and tormented 
many other snakes in this way, always challenging them to fight. 

One day a man heard a peculiar noise. As he went near the ap- 
parent source of the sound, he saw a large number of all kinds of 
snakes going in one direction. Listening to their words, he heard 
them say: " We will have a battle with them. Djisdaah '" has chal- 
lenged us." They (the snakes) were going to hold a council. The 
man overheard them say, " In four days we shall have a battle." 

The man went back to the village and told the people what he 
had seen and heard. The chief sent a number of men to the place, 
and as far as tliey could see in all directions were .snakes three or four 
feet deep, all moving toward their rendezvous. The men ran back 
:ind told the chief what they had seen. The chief said: "We can 
not avoid it; we have got to fight, and so we must get ready." To 
do this they cut great piles of wood and drove stakes close together 
in the ground ; there were two rows of stakes the whole length of the 
village, and they stacked up the wood in long piles. On the fourth 
day the chief told the men to set fire to the wood in several places. 

When the snakes advanced to attack the village they came right 
on through the fire, and many of them were burned to death. So 
many rushed into the fire that they put it out. The live snakes 
climbed over the dead ones, and in spite of the resistance of the 
men, who were trying in every way to kill them, they reached the 
second row of stakes. Here again many were killed, but still the 
living climbed over the dead above the second row of stakes, and then 
the battle for life began in deep earnest. The first man they killed 



118 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

was Djisdaah, the man who had challenged them, and then the snakes 
made for the village, and the men stood and fought. Fhially the 
chief shouted that he surrendered. 

Then a snake, whose body was as large as a mountain, and whose 
head was as large as a lodge, came right up out of the ground and 
said : " I am the chief of the snakes ; we will go home if you agree that 
as long as the world stands you will not call any man Djisdaah and 
will not maltreat my people." The chief agreed willingly to this, and 
the snakes went away. 

18. The Ongwe Tas (the Cannibal) and His Younger Brother 

Two brothers were in the woods on a hunting expedition, and after 
they had been on the hunt a good while they had success in finding 
game, and they had built a good sized lodge, in which they enjoyed 
everything in common. 

The elder said to the younger brother : " Now, for the future we 
must live apart; let us make a partition through the middle of the 
lodge and have a door at each end, so that you shall have a door 
to your part and I a door to mine." The younger brother agreed, 
and they made the partition. The elder brother said further : " Now, 
each will live for himself. I will not come to your room and you 
shall not come to mine ; when we want to say anything to each other 
we can talk through the partition. You may hunt game as before — 
birds and animals — and live on them, but I will hunt men and eat 
them. Neither of us will ever marry or bring a woman to the lodge; 
if I marry, you shall kill me, if you can, but if you marry I will try 
to kill you." The brothers lived thus apart in the same lodge, each 
going out to hunt alone. 

One day while the brothers were out hunting, a woman came to 
the yoimger brother's room. The elder brother tracked her to the 
lodge, caught her at the door, dragged her into his room, and killed 
and ate her. When the younger brother came home the elder said, 
"I have had good luck today near home." The younger brother 
knew that he must have killed and eaten the woman, but he said 
merely, " It is well if you have had good luck." 

On another day the elder brother tracked a woman to his brother's 
part of the lodge and, going to the door, Imocked, calling out, " Let 
me have a couple of arrows; there is an elk out here." The woman 
brought the arrows, and the moment she opened the door he killed 
her and took her body to his part of the lodge, where he cooked and 
ate it. When his brother came back they talked through the parti- 
tion as before. The younger brother warned the next woman against 
opening the door; he told her to open it for no one, not even for 
himself ; that he would come in without knocking. 



Xw^S] FrCTION 119 

The next time the elder brother ran to the door and knocked hur- 
riedly, calling out, " Give me a couple of arrows ; there is a bear out 
here," the woman sat by the fire, but did not move. Again he 
called, " Hurry I Give me the arrows — the bear will be gone." The 
woman did not stir, but sat quietly by the fire. After a while the 
elder brother went into his part of the lodge. "WTien the younger 
brother came home the woman told him what had happened. While 
they were whispering the elder brother called out: "Well, brother, 
you are whispering to some one. Who is it? Have you a woman 
here?" "Oh," answered the younger, "I am counting over my 
game." All was silent now for a time. The younger brother then 
began whispering cautiously to the woman, saying, " My brother and 
I will have a life-and-death struggle in the morning, and you must 
help me ; but it will be very difficult for you to do so, for he will make 
himself just like me in form and voice, but you must strike him if 
you can." The woman tied to his hair a small squash shell so as to 
be able to distinguish him from his elder brother. The latter again 
called out, " You have a woman ; you are whispering to her." The 
younger brother denied it no longer. 

In the morning the brothers went out to fight with clubs and 
knives. After breaking their weapons they clenched and rolled on 
the ground ; sometimes one was under and sometimes the other. The 
elder was exactly like the younger and repeated his words. When- 
ever the younger cried, " Strike him ! " the elder cried out almost at 
the same time, " Strike him ! " The woman was in agony, for she 
was unable to tell which to strike. At last she caught sight of the 
squash shell, and then she struck a heavy blow and finished the elder 
brother. 

They gathered a great pile of wood and, laying the body on the 
pile, set fire to the wood and burned up the flesh. When the flesh 
was consumed they scattered the burnt bones. Then the younger 
brother placed the woman in the core of a cat-tail flag, which he put 
on the point of his arrow and shot far away to the west. Running 
through the heart of the upper log of the lodge, he sprang after the 
woman and, coming to the ground, ran with great speed and soon 
found where the arrow had struck. The cat-tail flag had burst open 
and the woman was gone. He soon overtook her and they traveled 
on together. He told her she must make all speed, for the ghost of 
his brother would follow them. 

The next morning they heard the whooping of some one in pur- 
suit. The younger brother said, " My brother has come to life again 
and is following: he will destroy us if he can overtake us." There- 
upon he turned the woman into a half-decayed stump and, taking 
off his moccasins and telling them to run on ahead,"' he secreted him- 
self a short distance away. " Go quickly through swamps and 



120 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

thicket and over mountains and ravines, and come to me by a round- 
about way at noon tomorrow," he said to the moccasins. 

When the elder brother reached the rotten stump he looked at it 
and, seeing something like nostrils, put his finger in and almost made 
the woman sneeze. Though suspicious of the tree, he followed the 
moccasin tracks swiftly all day and night. 

At the break of day the younger brother and the woman continued 
their journey. At noon the elder brother came back to the place 
where he saw the stump and not finding it, he was in a terrible rage. 
He knew now that he had been deceived. He continued to follow 
the tracks, and on the second day the pursued couple heard his whoop 
again. Taking out of his pouch a part of the jaw of a beaver with 
a couple of teeth in it, the younger brother stuck it into the ground, 
saying, " Let all the beavers come and build a dam across the world, 
so that the waters may rise to his neck, and let all the beavers in the 
world bite him when he tries to cross." Then he and the woman 
ran on. 

When the elder brother came up, the dam was built and the water 
neck-deep ; finding that the tracks disappeared in the water, he said, 
" If they have gone through I, too, can go through." When the water 
reached his breast all the beavers began to bite him, and he was 
forced to turn back and look for another crossing. All day he ran 
but could find no end to the dam and cried out, " I have never heard 
before of a beaver dam across the world." He then ran to the place 
whence he had started. The dam was gone and all that remained was 
a bit of beaver jaw with two teeth in it. He saw his brother's work 
in this and was now raving with anger. He rushed along with all 
speed. 

The second day after the younger brother and the woman heard 
his whoop again. Taking out a pigeon feather from his pouch, 
the younger brother placed it behind him on the ground, saying, " Let 
all the pigeons of the world come and leave their droppings here, so 
that my brother may not pass." All the pigeons of the world came, 
and soon there was a ridge of droppings 6 feet high across the country. 
When the elder brother came up he saw the tracks disappearing in the 
ridge ; thereupon he said, "If they have crossed I, too, can cross it." 
He walked into it but he could not get through, and so he turned 
back with great difficulty and ran eastward to look for an openmg; 
he ran all day, but the ridge was everywhere. He cried in anger, " I 
have never known such a thing." Going back, he slept until morning, 
when he found that all was clean — nothing to be seen but a pigeon 
feather sticking in the ground. He hurried on in a frenzy of rage. 

After dropping the feather the younger brother and woman ran 
until they came to an old man mending a great fish net. The old man 



^^Z^^'!;,] FICTION 121 

said : " I will stop as long as I can the man who is chasing you. You 
have an aunt who lives west of here, by the roadside. The path 
passes between two ledges of rock which move backward and forward 
so quickly that whoever tries to pass between is crushed, but if you 
beg of her to stop them for a moment she will do so and will give 
you information." They hurried on until they came to the woman, 
their aunt, and prayed her to let them pass. She stopped the rocks 
long enough for them to spring through, saying: "Your path is 
through a river, on the other side of which is a man with a canoe; 
beckon to him and he will come and take you over; beyond the river 
is a whole army of S'hagodiyoweqgowa, but they will not harm you. 
A little dog wagging his tail will run to meet you. Follow him and 
he will lead you to an opening in which is your mother's lodge. The 
dog will enter — follow him." 

When the elder brother came to the old man who was mending 
his net he passed, and, pushing him rudely, called out, " Did anyone 
pass here ? " The old man did not answer. Then he struck him a 
blow on the head with his club. When he did that the old man threw 
the net over him and he became entangled and fell. After struggling 
to get out for a long time, he tore himself free and hurried on. When 
he reached the old woman where the rocks were opening and closing, 
he begged her to stop them, but she would not; so, waiting for a 
chance, he finally jumped, but was caught and half his body was 
crushed; he rubbed it with spittle and was cured. Then he hurried 
on in still greater fury. When he came to the river he shouted to the 
man in the canoe, but the man paid no heed; again he shouted, and 
then he swam across. On the other side he found an immense forest 
of withered trees, which for miles had been stripped of their bark 
and killed by the hammering of turtle-shell rattles by S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa, keeping time with them while dancing. These S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa, turning upon him immediately, hammered all the flesh off of 
him; they then hammered all his bones until there was not a trace 
of him left. W'hen the mother saw her son and his wife she was 
very happy, and said : " I am so glad you have come. I was afraid 
your elder brother who took you away would kill you. I knew he 
would try to do so. Now you will always stay with me." 

19. Haiendonnis and Yenogeauns" 

One day Haieiidonnis, carrying all his small effects, ^^as walking 
along through the forest. It seems that he did not know where he 
came from, nor did he know to what particular place he was going, 
although he well knew that he was going in a northerly direction. 
Wherever evening overtook him there he would place his bundle 
on the ground and get into it, when he had no hollow tree to enter, 
and thus spend the night. In this way he traveled many days. 

° Woodworker and Long-Tooth. 



122 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

One moi-ning he came to a steep precipice ; here he began to wonder 
how he might be able to descend its face with so large a pack on his 
back. At last he placed his pack on the ground, and, hastening to 
a basswood tree standing some distance away, he stripped all the 
bark from it, which he slit into fine strands. Tying the strips 
together, end to end, he made a long strand, one end of which he 
fastened to a hemlock tree standing on the brink of the precipice 
and the other he let down over the brink. Then taking hold of the 
strand near the hemlock ti'ce, he carefully lowered himself over the 
edge of the cliff. He was soon at the end of the strand and there 
he hung. His bundle pulled down the upper part of his body until 
he was in an almost horizontal position, with his face turned up- 
ward, so he could not see just where he was. Although he was near 
the ground he did not know it. Feeling that his situation was 
critical, he thought : " What shall I do now 'i Would it not be better 
for me to kill myself by letting go of the strand, for I can not get up, 
nor can I in any manner descend." Finally he decided to let go of 
the rope of basswood Ijark and fall to the bottom of the precipice; 
but, as he released his grip, his pack touched the ground and his 
head rested on the pack. He thought, however, that he waS falling 
all the time. At last he felt weary of falling, and said, " I will try 
to turn over on one side, so that I can see whither I am going." 
So turning himself on one side he found that he was on the ground, 
and he exclaimed, " I have been greatly delaj'ed by not knowing 
that the ground was at the end of the strand of basswood bark." So 
saying he arose and went on. 

^Vlien darkness came he found, after diligent search, a hollow tree, 
in which he spent the night. In this manner he traveled for many 
days. Finally he decided to find a place in which to dwell, and he 
resolved that it must be a place where the trees stood only a short 
distance apart. Having found such a spot, he built a small cabin, in 
which he put his pack. Then he began to arrange his things in 
order — skins and furs, ladles and bark bowls, pouch and weapons. 

The next morning he went out very early to hunt for food. Soon 
he saw a deer walking along, and on pointing his finger at it the deer 
fell dead. Then he carried its carcass home on his back. ■ He then 
ordered that it skin itself, and this it did. He cut the carcass into 
suitable portions, some of which he hung up around the inside of the 
cabin and some he roasted for his meal. That night he found that 
he had no firewood. Going out of doors, he said in a loud voice, 
" Let wood for fuel come and pile itself beside my doorway." The 
wish thus expressed was immediately accomplished. 

This remarkable man had an influence over every kind of game. 
When he desired a particular animal, all that he had to do was to 
point his finger at it, and the victim would fall dead. In this way 



^",«^S] FICTION 123 

he was able to kill much game in a day. When he returned to his 
small cabin he did not carry the game, but would stand at the door 
and say, "Let the game which I have killed be piled up beside my 
doorway." When this was done he would say, " Let the skins come 
oif and the meat be quartered, put up to dry, and be smoked." Then 
he would enter nis cabin, paying no further attention to the game. 
In the morning he would find the meat hanging up to dry and a large 
heap of skins lying at his door. He would then spend the day in tan- 
ning the skins. 

One day while he was out hunting he saw Gaasyendiet'ha,^^ where- 
upon he pointed his firkger at him and Gaasyendiet'ha at once fell 
dead. Haieiidoiinis took off his skin for a pouch. Going some dis- 
tance farther, he beheld a panther. On pointing his finger at it, the 
panther fell dead and he then skinned it. In like manner he killed 
and skinned a fox. With these three skins he was enabled to make 
three pouches, which, on his arrival at his home, he hung on the wall 
of his cabin. 

After a while the thought came to him, " What shall I do with 
these three pouches?" Then he took down the pouch made of the 
skin of Gaasyendiet'ha and commanded it, saying, " Stand upright 
here." Instantly Gaasyendiet'ha stood there before him alive. Then 
Haiendonnis made the other two pouches come to life in the same 
manner, and there they stood inside his cabin. Meanwhile the rumor 
spread that Haieiidoiinis had settled down in that place and that he 
was possessed of potent orenda, or mighty magic power, and that 
he was a sorcerer through possession of this mysterious potency, 
which worked good for his friends and evil for his enemies. 

Not far from the cabin of the mysterious Haieiidonnis stood the 
lodge of a woman and her three daughters. The mother was re- 
puted to be a great witch, and it was said that she had come there 
to dwell because no one in the settlement of her tribe wanted to live 
near her. 

One day she said to her three daughters, "Let us pound cornfor 
meal and make corn bread." So, having prepared the corn for the 
mortar, they began to pound it, each using a pestle. The corn was 
soon reduced to meal and the mother made it into corn bread. Fill- 
ing a basket with this, she said to her eldest daughter, Deyondenni- 
gongenyons,^' who was a very handsome girl, " I want you to go to 
Haiendoiinis's lodge to learn whether he will marry you or not." 
They lived one-half day's journey from Haiendonnis. Willingly 
obeying her mother, the girl started with the basket of corn bread. 

Haiendonnis saw the woman coming with a basket on her back, 
and he exclaimed : " Hoho ! There is a woman coming. I think 
that she is coming to see me. I do wonder if indeed she desires to 
marry me." Then, addressing the pouch, Gaasyendiet'ha, he said : " T 



124 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [ETH.ANN.a2 

want you to go yonder and to stand beside that tree there. You, 
Panther, stand a little nearer to the cabin, and you, Fox, stand in 
the doorway of the cabin." 

As the woman drew near Haiendoiinis sat smoking his pipe. She 
came quite close to Gaasyendiet'ha, but as she walked with her head 
down at first she did not see him; but when just in front of him she 
noticed something, and, looking up, saw so fierce-looking a person 
that instinctively she turned back and fled. As she ran along the 
bread all fell out of her basket, so when she reached home there was 
none left. Her mother, Yenogeauns, asked her, "What is the mat- 
ter?" But she was entirely out of breath and could not answer. 
Haiefidonnis was laughing, for he saw her run all the way home. 

After several days the mother said to her daughters, " We will 
again make corn bread." Soon the girls had prepared and poimded 
the corn into meal, which the mother made into bread. Then she 
addressed her second daughter, Yonwithahon,^* saying : " Take this 
basket and go to the lodge of Haiefidofinis and see if he will marry 
you. Your sister was a great coward, and so she failed." Obeying 
her mother, the girl started on her journey. 

Haieiidoiinis saw her coming and said : " Here comes another 
woman. She will soon be scattering her corn bread, too." So he sta- 
tioned the living pouches as he had before. The girl came along with 
her head down until she reached Gaasyendiet'ha, and, seeing him, she 
said, " I need not be afraid," and passed on. In like manner she 
passed Panther, and came to the doorway; there before her stood a 
man rubbing something against the door which frightened her 
greatly, and she screamed and fled homeward. On her way she like- 
wise lost all the bread out of her basket. Seeing her flight, Haieii- 
doiinis laughed at her, too. 

Haiefidoiinis hunted a good deal and was accustomed to clean 
intestines of the game he had killed and fill them with blood and 
pieces of fat and meat, and so cook them. He cooked many of these 
and hung them over his couch. 

After a few days had elapsed the old woman said to her daughters, 
" Let us make another trial." It would seem that the mother well 
loiew what had happened to her daughters who had made the journey 
to the lodge of Haieiidoiinis. So they made corn bread of such kind 
as was customary in proposals for marriage, and they filled a basket 
with it. Then the wily old mother said to her youngest daughter, 
Yenongaa : " You make the attempt this time. Do not notice any- 
thing or fear anything, but go directly to the lodge of Haieiidofinis." 
The dutiful daughter replied with some inward misgivings : " It is 
well. I will try," and, taking up the basket of bread, she started. 

Now, Haieiidoiinis soon saw her coming, and he exclaimed : " Is it 
not wonderful what small value these people place on bread? They 



^"/w^^"^] FICTION 125 

come here with it and then run off, scattering it along the path as 
they flee. Now this one is coming with a basketful on her back, and 
I suppose that she will run off, dropping it along the way behind 
her." He watched her come up to Gaasyendiet'ha, and* saw her look 
at him and then strike him, so that he fell to the ground. She saw 
that this seemingly ferocious figure was only the animated skin of 
Gaasyendiet'ha. So coming up to Panther, she dealt with him as she 
had with Gaasyendiet'ha. On arriving at the door where her second 
sister had thought she saw a man, Yenongaa went up to Fox and 
struck him a blow with her hand; down he fell, for he, too, was 
nothing but a pouch of fox skin, the tail of which the wind had been 
brushing against the flap of the doorway, the occurrence which 
frightened her sister. The other sisters had thought that living 
beings stood before them. 

Now, when Haiefidonnis saw her doing these things, he thought, 
" She will surely come into the lodge : so I must get my pipe and 
pretend to be an old man." On entering the lodge, Yenongiia in- 
quired, " Where is Haiendoiinis?" Receiving no answer, she repeated 
her question, and then Haieiidonnis replied in an old man's accents, 
" It seems to me that I hear a woman's voice." So she called in a 
louder tone. Then he looked up, saying, " I do not think that he is 
at home, or that he will return before the end of ten days." The un- 
abashed young woman replied, " It is well. Then I will come in ten 
daj's," and started for home. 

At the end of ten days the youngest daughter again set "out for the 
lodge of Haieiidonnis. When she drew near he saw her, and said to 
himself, " Now I shall change myself into a small boy." On this 
visit the young woman paid no attention to the animated pouches 
representing Gaasyendiet'ha, Panther, and Fox, but went directly to 
the doorway and stood there. On making her presence known, she 
heard the voice of a small boy say, "Come in." After entering the 
lodge she asked, " Where is Haiendoiinis? " The answer came : " He 
has just gone out. He has gone to the other side of the world." 
" How long will he be gone ? " was her next inquiry. " Oh ! " came 
the reply, " he said that he would be gone about ten days." Then 
she assured the small boy that she would return in that time. 

At the end of the time Haieiidoiinis saw her coming again, and re- 
solved to make himself invisible this time, to deceive her. So when 
she had made her way into the lodge and set her basket down, she 
looked around but saw no one. Then, saying, " I will wait a while," 
she sat down on the couch of Haieiidoiinis. The situation was so 
amusing that Haiendoiinis laughed out loud, and the young woman, 
becoming frightened, arose and fled home, where she arrived quite 
ashamed of herself, for she had left her basket of corn bread. Her 
mother asked, "Where is the basket of corn bread? " but she made 



126 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. axn. 32 

no reply, knowing that her mother was aware of what had taken 
place. The mother then heated water and prepared to wash her 
daughter clean, for she saw that some of the deer intestines which 
hung in the lodge of Haieiidonnis were clinging to her daughter. 
The old woman took them with the remark: "I am thankful to you. 
These are good meat. You shall go there again to-morrow." 

So the next morning she went again, and when Haiendoiinis saw 
her he laughed, saying, " I think that all the intestines will go this 
time." On entering the lodge she saw Haiendoiinis in his real shape. 
He asked her what she was going to do with the basket of bread 
which she had left in his lodge. She replied, " My mother sent me 
to live with you as your wife." He replied, " It is well, and I agree 
to it," and from that time they lived together as man and wife. These 
two were evil-minded, wicked people, who were full of the orenda, 
or magic power, of sorcerers, and all wizards and witches in the world 
knew just the moment that they became man and wife. 

The next morning Yenongaa said to her husband that she desired 
to visit her mother. Haieiidonnis readily gave his consent to her 
going ; so she went to her home. At once her mother began to work 
over her for the purpose of endowing her with much more evil-work- 
ing orenda, and she instructed her, too, how to enslave her husband. 
She also said to her, " You must urge him to come to live with us." 
The young woman returned to her husband, who, on looking at her, 
discovered that she was being equipped to enslave him. But he 
foiled her this time and every succeeding time that she undertook 
to do so. She went to her mother's lodge for a long time. Finally, 
Haiendoiinis became wearied by this conduct of his wife and her 
mother, and said to himself : " I wonder why they act in this manner. 
I think that it would be well for me to destroy her people." To this 
he made up his mind. 

The next morning she again told him that she was going to visit 
her mother. After she had started Haieiidoiinis followed her. By 
taking a circuitous route he got ahead of his wife, arriving at her 
mother's lodge before she did. Rushing into the lodge, he faced the 
old woman. He said to her, " I have come to fight with you," and the 
aged hag graciously accepted his challenge. So they at once began 
fighting with war clubs, and were fighting fiercely when the wife en- 
tered the lodge. She wondered how her husband had passed her. 
She stood there powerless to aid either one. The combatants kept 
on fighting until Haiendoiinis was certain that the old mother and the 
two elder daughters were dead. Then addressing his wife, he said, 
" You go off yonder a little way," and she wilFmgly obeyed him. 
Thereupon he set the lodge on fire, and the flames were soon rising 
high. After the fire had died out somewhat there were a number of 
explosions among the embers, sounding pop ! pop ! Then up flew a 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



^i] FICTION 127 



hoi'ned owl, a common owl, and a screech owl to the upper limbs of 
a tree standing near the scene. These were owls in human form. 

Thus were the three women utterly destroyed. Then Haieiidoiinis 
said to his wife, " Let us go home now." But she stood there looking 
in one direction; she seemed spellbound. At last her husband took 
her by the arm, again saying, " Let us go home," and she turned and 
followed him. 

It seems that those who were most skilled in the arts of sorcei'y and 
enchantment, who dwelt even to the very edge of the M'orld, knew the 
exact moment Haiendoiinis had killed the old woman and her wicked 
daughters, for at that moment a great shout of joy went up from 
the people, which was heard all over the world ; they rejoiced because 
these women so powerful in magic and so utterly wicked were dead 
and burned up. 

Now, Haieiidoiinis, putting spittle on his hands, rubbed with op- 
posing orenda, or magic power, the head of Yenongaa,'^ his wife. 
He gently pulled and smoothed her hair, which had been short before 
that time, and it soon became long and glossy. He had neutralized 
her orenda thi'ough this manipulation. Thereafter they dwelt in the 
lodge of Haiendonnis in great contentment. 

20. The Man with the Panthee-skin Eobe and His Brother avith 
A Turkey-skin Robe 

In the olden time an uncle lived in a lodge together with two 
nephews, the one 2 or 3 and the other 15 or 16 years of age. They 
dwelt happily in a forest. When the uncle went out to hunt the 
elder nephew would remain at home and when the elder nephew was 
out hunting the uncle would not leave the lodge, for the younger 
nephew was too small to leave alone during the day. 

One day the elder nephew said to his uncle: "Mother's brother, 
will you kindly kill a turkey gobbler for me? If you will, I will 
make a robe for my little brother." " How will you do that?" queried 
the uncle. " Oh, I shall skin him and make a feather coat for my 
little brother," declared the elder nephew. 

The next day the indulgent uncle brought home from his hunting 
a beautiful white wild turkey gobbler and his nephews were delighted 
to see it. Then the elder nephew skinned the fine bird, leaving the 
head, legs, wings, and tail attached to the skin. He rubbed and care- 
fully prepared in the usual manner the skin with the feathers in 
place, and when it had been thoroughly cured and tanned with smoke 
he placed the turkey-skin robe on his little brother, whom it fitted 
very well. The boy thrust his feet into the skins of the legs and his 
arms into the skins of the wings. The skin was a close fit, because 
the little boy was just the size of a turkey gobbler, and now he looked 



128 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 82 

just like one. The little fellow was able to walk around looking for 
beechnuts and he could also fly up into trees, so his uncle and elder 
brother called him "Turkey Brother." 

The uncle and his two nephews lived together until the elder 
nephew was of an age to be married. Then the uncle said: "Oh, I 
am tired of cooking and of doing other kinds of woman's work. I 
would like to have something prepared by a woman. You, my 
nephew, are now old enough to marry; so now go off among the 
people and seek a suitable wife. There is a chief living not far 
from here who has three excellent daughters, and you'Can get one of 
them for the asking." The nephew, after a moment's hestitation, 
replied, " It is well; I am willing to go to seek a wife." 

Now it happened that the Turkey Brother earnestly desired to leave 
home in quest of a wife, but his elder brother deprecated his desire 
to go at this time, saying, " Oh, my Turkey Brother, it is better that 
you remain at home with our uncle, who is now in need of our com- 
pany — how can we leave him entirely alone?" But the Turkey 
Brother, unmoved by this plea, answered, " I do not want to stay 
with my uncle; my wish is to accompany you." Xo matter how 
much the elder brother coaxed or how bitterly he scolded him for his 
great desire to leave home at this time, the Turkey Brother was de- 
termined to go at all cost, so finally he was permitted to leave. The 
uncle said to him: "Now. my nephew, you must have a suitable out- 
fit of raiment and a fitting stock of weapons, for people must see that 
you are a great man. I will now bring what I have prepared for 
you for an occasion of thi.- character." 

Then the uncle brought forth a fine coat or robe of wildcat skins 
and placed it on his nephew. Stepping back in order to see better 
how his nephew looked in it, he declared. "That is not good enough." 
Then he brought out a beautiful lynx-skin robe and placed it on his 
nephew's shoulders. Again stepping back to get a better notion of 
the set of it, he exclaimed : " This, too, is not befitting the occasion. 
Oh, I have another, which is just the thing for you." Thereupon he 
took from his bark chest of treasures a magnificent panther-skin robe, 
with the head of the animal formed into a cap or hood. When the 
wearer of this remarkable robe became excited this head would cry out 
in anger. In this cap the uncle placed two loon feathers, which sang 
at all times. This fine robe the uncle put on the shoulders of his 
nephew and, after critically inspecting him, he exclaimed, " This is 
befitting and needful, and it will suit the purpose of your journey; 
now, the people will see you as you are." To complete the outfit the 
uncle now brought out a pair of handsome moccasins and a pair of 
beautiful leggings to match them and an ornamented pouch of a 
whole fisher's skin, which, whenever an enemy came near its wearer, 
snapped at and bit him. In this pouch was a stone pipe, the bowl of 



CDRTIN, 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 129 



which represented a bullfrog and the stem a water snake; when 
this pipe was smoked the bullfrog would croak and the snake would 
wriggle and try to swallow the frog. Lastly the uncle gave his 
nephew a fine bow and a quiver full of arrows, and a war club. 

Then, addressing his nephew, the uncle said : " Now, my nephew, go 
directly toward the west. It is six years' journey to the country 
whither you are going. For a long distance from here on all sides 
the people have been carried off, and we are the sole survivors of our 
tribe; this is the reason you must go so far to obtain a wife. There is 
a dangerous spring halfway between here and your destination; it 
is close to the path, but you m>ist not under any circumstances stop 
there or touch the water. Farther on, about midway between the 
spring and the chief's lodge, dwells an old man, a great sorcerer and 
robber. You must not pay any attention to him. Do not on any ac- 
count stop with him or listen to him." 

The two brothers started on their long journey at sunrise. By 
midday they had reached the spring, although it was distant three 
years' ordinary traveling. As soon as the elder brother saw the 
spring he became very thirsty and strongly desired to drink of the 
water, but the Turkey Brother exclaimed, " Our uncle warned us not 
to touch this spring, for it is dangerous to do so." As they were pass- 
ing on, the elder brother, looking again at the spring, became so 
thirsty that he went back to drink from it. Lying on his hands and 
face, he started to drink, when something caught him by the hair and 
pulled him into the water. Gripping the creature, he succeeded after 
a long struggle in drawing it upon the bank. It was a strange 
creature covered with hair and resembling a man in form and size. 
As it lay on the bank it gasped and piteously begged to be returned 
to the water, saying, " Oh, grandson, throw me back into the water ! " 
" Oh, no ! You must remain where you are," he sullenly replied. He 
stooped the second time to drink, when another creature seized him, 
but this also he pulled out of the water. It, too, gasped, " Oh, 
grandson, throw ine back into the water ! " Without making a reply 
he stooped a third time to drink and was then undisturbed. The 
water was very sweet and wholesome. When he had drunk his fill 
he killed the two creatures. Then with the Turkey Brother's help he 
collected a great pile of dry wood on which they placed the two 
creatures and soon burned them to a.shes. Thereupon they continued 
their journey. 

In the middle of the afternoon they came to a place where there 
were many tall trees. There they saw a poor-looking old man, who 
kept running around in great haste, shouting: " Oh, grandson, shoot 
it ! Look here ! Such a fine raccoon ! Oh, shoot it for me ! Just one 
arrow you need spare me." He begged so urgently that the elder 
94615°— 18 9 



130 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Teth. ANN. M 

brother shot an arrow at the raccoon, which struck its body. The 
raccoon ran into a hole in the tree, as the elder brother thought. The 
old man shouted : " Oh, you must get your arrow ! We must find the 
i-accoon; you must take off your garments, lest you should spoil 
them. You need not be afraid. I shall not touch them, for I shall 
go up the tree, too." So the young man removed his robe, leggings, 
moccasins, and pouch and laid them at the foot of the tree, which 
he climbed, the old man following him closely. When they reached 
the hole in the tree the young man peered into it, and, thinking he 
saw right at hand the arrow sticking in the raccoon, he reached to pull 
it out; but the old man pushed him into the hole in the tree, and 
down he went through the hollow in the trunk to the bottom. There 
was there no raccoon, only an illusion. 

Now, the old man, quickly descending to the ground, donned the 
panther-skin robe, the leggings, and the moccasins, and he also took 
the pouch with the pipe. At once he began to grow younger in 
looks; he felt younger, too, and the cap began to roar. Taking the 
bow and arrows, he started off westward toward the lodge of the 
chief. 

The poor Turkey Brother began to weep and to scream for his 
lost brother whose clothes were stolen. He flew upon a tree and sat 
there weeping. 

On recovering his senses the elder brother thought : " Now I am 
certainly in trouble. My dear uncle warned me not to listen to this 
old man. How can I ever get out of this place? There is no way 
of climbing out of this den, for the opening is smooth on every side." 
Under his feet he felt the bones of other unfortunate people who had 
been thrown in there before by the wicked old man, and he smelt the 
odor from them. He remained all night in the hollow of the tree. 
Toward morning he remembered that in his boyhood he had had a 
dream, in which a large spider appeared to him, saying, " When you 
get into trouble I will help you." He therefore cried out, " Oh, 
great Spider, come to me and help me now ! " At that moment a 
great Spider began to make a web in the tree, and soon it had made 
a large ladder woven of thick strands. " Now climb," said the great 
Spider. But the young man had not gone up more than halfway 
when the web ladder broke. " Oh," said he to the great Spider, 
" you are not able to help me at this time." 

Then he remembered that he had had another dream, in which an 
enormous blacksnake had appeared to him and had promised to help 
him whenever he was in trouble. Therefore he cried out, " Oh ! 
Blacksnake, come to me and help me now." Straightway there came 
a great Blacksnake on the tree, which slipped its tail down into the 
hollow in the trunk until the young man was able to seize it; then 



^rS] FICTION 131 

the snake coiled itself up, bringing the young man to the top in 
safety; thereupon the great Blacksnake disappeared. 

The Turkey Brother greatly rejoiced to see his brother and, flying 
to the ground, said: "What can we do? Must we not go home to 
our uncle now?" "Oh, no!" said the elder brother; "we must go 
(in. I will put on the old man's clothes." So he arrayed himself in 
the old man's worn-out garments — his shabby robe, stiif leggings, old 
moccasins, and filthy headdress. He now looked like the old man, 
having a weak voice and a terrifying cough. 

Meanwhile the old man felt grand in the stolen panther-skin robe, 
for he had arrived at the chief's village early in the evening. In 
front of the chief's lodge was a broad river. The chief appeared to 
him on the opiDosite side, and the old man shouted across to him to 
be ferried over. The chief's eldest daughter rowed across in a canoe 
and, seeing the fine-looking man wearing the panther-skin robe and 
moving around with a haughty bearing, asked him, " Who are you 
and whither are you going? " The old man coolly replied: "I come 
from the east, and I am going to the lodge across the river. The 
ti-uth of the matter is, I am looking for a wife, and I hear that the 
chief has three marriageable daughters." " Well, I am one of his 
daughters," replied the young woman. Then the old thief answered, 
" Oh ! I think that you would suit me very well." " Then you are my 
husband, and we will live together," rejoined the young woman. She 
brought him to her father's lodge and showed him her couch, which 
was beautifully adorned with fine furs and skins, saying, " This is 
your place for repose." He sat there quietly until his wife came to 
him. 

The next evening the elder brother and the Turkey Brother ap- 
peared on the opposite side of the river. The former attempted to 
shout, but his voice was so weak and thin that for a long time he 
could not make himself heard. At last, some one outside of the 
lodge said, "There are a man and a turkey on the other side of the 
river, who are trying to cross." The youngest daughter of the chief 
went over and asked the man, who was old in appearance, whence- 
he came and who he was. " I came from the east," he replied, " and 
I am on my way to the chief's lodge. I want to get married, and 
so I am looking for a wife." "Looking for a wife? Why, you are 
too old to marry," replied the chief's daughter. " I am not old ; I 
am quite young. Perhaps I look old, but here is my brother who is 
a little boy yet." " You come from the east, you say ; do you come 
from beyond the sorcerer's spring ? " she asked. " I am from beyond 
that spring," he replied. "Did you pass the spring? " she persisted. 
"Yes, I did; and I cleared it of its monstrous denizens," declared 
the elder brother. "Did you come past the little old man wha 



132 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

runs around the tree ? " was her next question. " Yes ; and that is 
why I look as old as I do. He craftily stole my enchanted outfit — 
my garments and dress," declared the elder brother. In her own 
mind the young woman thought that this was the man for whom 
they were waiting, so she resolved to marry him. Saying to him, 
" You may come along with me,"' she ferried him with his brother 
across the river and took him to the lodge of her father, where she 
showed him to her couch, which was also beautifully adorned with 
skins and fine furs. She told him, " This is your place of rest." 
Above it was a smaller bed, and she added, " Your brother can have 
that co)ich," and they placed the Turkey Brother up there. 

That night the old thief opened the fisher-sldn pouch to take out 
the pipe, but the fisher bit his finger and it was with the greatest 
difficulty that he released his finger from its mouth. 

After the youngest daughter brought her husband home there 

' was great dissatisfaction in the lodge because of her seemingly poor 

choice of a husband. They tried to get the aged chief to dissuade 

her from living M-ith her husband, but with a knowing look he 

would saj', " Oh ! she knows what she is doing ; so let her alone." 

For a number of days these families lived without any unusual 
incident. Then the husband of the youngest daughter informed 
her that he was ill with severe pains in the stomach, and that she 
must get from her father his best wampum bowl, because he, the 
sick man, desired to disgorge into it. Hurrying away, she brought 
the bowl. Her husband cast up enough beautiful black wampum to 
fill it completely. Then he bade her, " Take this to your father and 
give it to him for me." In receiving it, the chief remarked: "Oh! 
thanks. I Imew that he is a great man, for he came from a good 
country. He is the greatest man of whom I have ever heard. This 
is a beautiful present." ^° 

When the eldest daughter's husband heard of this he said to his 
wife, " Kun to your father and get his wampum bowl. I too desire 
to use it." When she had brought it, he filled it in a similar manner, 
but only with half-decayed lizards and worms and all manner of 
foul things of an intolerably ofi'ensive odor. He then bade her to 
take it to her father as a present from him. She did so, but her 
father was very angry, saying : " How dare you bring that vile stuff 
to me. Eun to the creek with it, and thoroughly wash and scrape the 
Jjowl ; wash it many times over. But never do this again." 

A few days later the husband of the youngest daughter said again, 
" Go to your father and get that wampum bowl again." This time 
he filled the bowl heaping full with beautiful white wampum. He 
then said, "Take this to your father as a present from me." She 
ran with it to her father, and the old chief was delighted with it, 



^SwS] FiCTio:^ 133 

saying: "Oh! he is a man. I thought that there was something 
great in him, for lie comes of a powerful family of a great tribe in a 
good country." 

When the husband of the eldest daughter heard of this present of 
white wampum he again sent for the wampum bowl and used it 
with such result that his devoted wife did not dare go with it to her 
father, but went quickly to the creek, where she spent an entire day 
in thoroughly cleansing it. 

At this time a Wildcat and a Fox came to visit the husband of 
the youngest daughter of the chief, for they were his friends. As 
they walked around, the V^ildcat would rub against lus legs and purr^ 
and talk to him. It was not long before the Fox saw the Turkey 
Brother sitting on his couch over the bed, and said to the Wildcat, 
"That is a fine gobbler up there. Can you get him for us? " The 
next night the Wildcat, as the Turkey Brother's bed was near the 
fire, crawled down the smoke-hole to a point from which it could 
reach him. But the Turkey Brother, sitting with his eyes open, saw 
the Wildcat, and, waiting until it got within reach, struck it on the 
head with a club which he kept and tumbled it into the fire, in which 
the AVildcat rolled about a number of times, with the result that it 
got a singed coat. It got out of the fire and began to cry, " Oh ! I 
have fits." " You can not have fits here," cried the eldest sister, jump- 
ing out of her bed and kicking it out of doors. " That is not a tur- 
key," said the AVildcat to the Fox, " it is a wizard." 

At this time the youngest daughter of the chief said to her hus- 
band, " Why do you not take your enchanted ai'ticles of dress from 
that old thief?" Her husband replied: "I shall do so when the 
proper time comes. But in the meantime, will you ask your father 
for his bow and arrows, for I much wish to go on a hunting trip? " 
80 she went to her father with her husband's request, and her father 
willingly gave his permission for the use of his bow and arrows, 
saying, " Yes ; he shall have them if he needs them," and his daughter 
carried them back to her husband. 

The next day her husband went on a hunting expedition, and he 
had the good fortune to kill a large number of deer; more, in fact, 
than had ever been killed before in that place. He called the Wildcat 
and the Fox and said to them, " I give you one deer from this pile." 
So they gladly dragged the deer away and ate it. After the game 
was brought to the chief's lodge it was distributed among the people, 
and all had an equal share. No one was left without venison, and 
every one wondered at the prowess of the hunter. 

Then the old chief notified the people that there would be a great 
council on the following day at the lodge of public assembly. Every- 
one else was up at the bi'eak of daj', but the eldest daughter of the 
chief and her husband slept soundly. While they were asleep the 



134 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 3j 

husband of the chief's youngest daughter took from the old thief 
the panther-skin robe, the moccasins, the leggings, and the pouch of 
fisher skin which had been stolen from him by craft. Having 
recovered his own garments and accouterments, he now donned them 
to attend the council. 

There remained in the chief's lodge only the old woman, the 
servants, and the sleeping couple. Finally the old wonmn, the 
chief's wife, went to the couch of the sleepers, and said, " Come ! 
come ! you two, arise," at the same time shaking her daughter. Then 
looking more closely at her sleeping son-in-law she started back in 
utter disgust, with the exclamation, " That is a nice-looking husband 
you have in your arms ! " "When the covers were removed the true 
character of the man appeared. With the loss of the stolen enchanted 
garments he had immediately become old and shrunken, with the 
face of an owl. The unhappy woman awoke, and, looking at her 
husband, she was surprised to see what an ugly creature had been 
sleeping with her. So without any compunction she dragged him 
out of bed and pushed him with his own soiled garments out of the 
lodge, saying, " I shall never again have you for a husband." The 
wily old owl at once disappeared and was never seen in that place 
again. 

When the husband of the chief's youngest daughter came into 
the lodge he looked strong, young, and vigorous. The panther's 
head on his robe cried out, the loon's feathers sang. Opening his 
pouch and taking out the pipe, he lighted it and smoked; the bull- 
ifrog croaked, the blacksnake wriggled and tried to swallow the bull- 
frog. All the people looked on in wonder, and they said, " We have 
never before seen a man with orenda so powerful." Then this 
magically potent son-in-law said to his father-in-law, "I must now 
go home to my uncle in the far east." " We shall go, too," replied 
the aged chief, and all the people shouted assent. They were soon 
ready to follow. The young husband replied : " It is well. My 
brother and I will go on ahead to prepare for you. You are 
welcome." 

Then, calling his Turkey Brother, he said to him, " Now, my dear 
brother, I think that you may take off your turkey-skin robe and 
put on garments such as other boys wear." His brother had grown 
to be a large boy, for he was nearing the age of puberty. So he 
removed his turkey-skin robe and put on his new style of garments, in 
which he looked well. 

The two brothers then started, and they reached home in one day. 
But the old chief and his people were six 3^ears on the way. They 
could not travel with the speed of men possessed of powerful orenda. 
They were welcomed with joy on their arrival in the country of 



ZT^?i] FICTION 135 

the chief's potent son-in-law, and the old chief and his people there- 
after lived there in comfort and peace. 

21. Deadoendjadases (The Eaeth-Girdler) and the Old Woman's 

Grandson 

An old woman and her grandson lived together in a lodge in a 
large forest. They were both feeble and poor, for the old woman 
had no able-bodied person to help her and her grandson was still a 
very small boy. The old woman cried much of the time, therefore, on 
account of their needy condition. Every day, however, she went into 
the forest to gather firewood. She felled trees by burning, and 
when they were on the ground she burned them into pieces of such 
length that she would be able to carry them to her lodge ; but whether 
she was going or coming from the forest she wept without ceasing. 

At last her little grandson said to her, " Grandmother, why do you 
cry all the time, both night and day? Tell me, will you? " In reply 
she said, " I had many brothers and relatives, but they are all dead 
now." Then she took the little boy by the hand, and drawing him to 
a door, she opened it and led the boy into another room, in which he 
had never been before. This room was full of articles of dress of 
every kind and of weapons, ball clubs, balls painted (with symbols 
of) heads, and a drum. The boy wondered at what he saw here 
and wanted very much to touch the various articles, but his grand- 
mother told him that he must not remain in the room, nor should he 
touch any of the things. 

The next day when she had again gone after wood for fuel the boy 
went to the forbidden room and beat the drum, whose sound was so 
pleasing that he was delighted. Taking a ball and a lacrosse club 
he went out of doors and began to play ball — that is, lacrosse. He 
threw the ball with the club and it flew far away toward the east. 
So he ran after the ball until he found it in a large clearing. And 
this place was so pleasant that he was very glad to be there. But he 
soon started for home, arriving there before the grandmother had 
returned with the wood to the lodge. 

On the following day, while his grandmother was absent in the 
forest, the little grandson again visited the mysterious room and 
played around in it; but he did not forget to be home before his 
grandmother returned. He did likewise for several days. But finally 
he beat the drum so heavily that the old woman heard him far away 
in the forest. She hastened home at once and scolded the lad for his 
disobedience, saying, " Why did you go into that room when I told 
you not to go there nor to touch any of the things? " " Oh, grand- 
mother," he replied, " do not talk about that, but tell me where are 
all our friends — my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and 
my cousins? " The grandmother said deprecatingly : " Oh, you can 



136 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

never see them. There is a man dwelling far away in the east who 
carries off people and devours them. His name is Deadoefidjadases, 
and it is he who has eaten all our friends and relations." The lad 
with impatience replied : " !Make me four pairs of moccasins. I will 
fetch them back." His grandmother, weeping, refused his request, 
yet she prepared him for the journey. 

When he was ready he went eastward, traveling many days and 
nights until he arrived at a broad clearing in the forest. In the mid- 
dle of it he saw a long lodge and a pei-son who looked like the in- 
flated skin of a man, watching this clearing, which was occupied by 
a large strawberry patch. ^' This sentinel guarded the field night and 
day. Oddly enough, the long lodge extended from north to south 
instead of from east to west. 

The lad, standing concealed within the edge of the woods and call- 
ing a mole, said to it, " I want to borrow your skin for a while." The 
mole agreed to his request, and then the lad removed his own gar- 
ments and laid them back of a tree. Then, after reducing his size 
sufficiently, he crawled into the skin of the mole. Making his way 
under the leaves and underground until he came to tlie spot above 
Avhich was the skin man, he shouted to the sentinel : " Come down, my 
friend ! I want to talk with you." 

After the lad had promised to liberate the skin man, Hadjoqda, 
and to give him back his flesh body, Hadjoqda related to him all the 
secrets of this mysterious clearing and of the people who lived in it. 
He told him : " The man who dwells in that long lodge is called 
Deadoeiidjadases. He goes around the world every day, seizing and 
killing people, whose bodies he brings home to eat. Living in the 
lodge with him are three sisters, who are all great witches. Every 
day they are engaged in preparing human flesh and pounded green 
corn, for their ferocious brother will eat nothing else. When not so 
occupied, the three sisters spend their time driving elks out of the 
clearing, which is covered with the most beautiful strawberries." 
Hadjoqda continued: " Neither Deadoeiidjadases (nor his sisters, for 
that matter) has a heart in his body; and no one can kill them by 
beating or cutting them up, for their lives are in another place. In 
the corner of the lodge is a bed; under this bed is a lake; in this 
lake a loon swims about; and under the right wing of this loon are 
the four hearts (the lives) of Deadoeiidjadases and his sisters. The 
largest heart is his own, the next in size is that of his eldest sister, 
and the smallest is that of his youngest sister. If you squeeze these 
hearts their owners will faint away; but if you crush them they 
will die." '^ 

The lad gave Hadjoqda a piece of false wampum which he had 
made from a small reed and colored with strawberry juice, saying: 
"The sisters are calling you now. You must tell them that 3'ou 



^"bwS] fiction 137 

were making this wampum as the reason why you have remained 
away so long. I shall become in person just like their brother and 
shall return home ill, as it were, and expectorate blood. When I 
am in their lodge I shall cause the elks to run into the strawberry 
patch, and you must give the usual alarm. While the sisters are 
out driving the elk I shall have time to take their hearts from under 
the wing of the loon." 

The sisters, missing Hadjoqda, called to him many times. When 
he reached the lodge they angrily asked him : " Where have you 
been ? What have you been doing ? " "I have been making this 
piece of wampum," said he. All three sisters wanted it, and they 
were satisfied, for he gave it to them. They pardoned him for his 
absence. Then he told them that their brother had come home 
earlier than usual, and that he was ill and spitting up blood. 

Now, the lad, going back to the mole, returned its coat and donned 
his own garments. Then, assimiing the exact form and manner of 
Deadoeiidjadases, he walked through the clearing toward the lodge, 
spitting blood. 

When he entered the lodge none of the sisters except the youngest 
suspected any deceit. She looked at him sharply, saying, " This is 
not our brother." Then they tried him with different kinds of food, 
but he would eat nothing until they brought him human flesh and 
pounded green corn, which he ate heartily. This satisfied them that 
there was no deception. 

While he was eating, the alarm came that the elks were in the 
strawberry patch, and the three sisters, armed with their war clubs, 
ran out to drive away the elks. The lad lost no time in going to the 
bed and raising its cover. There he saw a lake in which a loon was 
swimming. He called it to him and asked for the hearts. The 
loon raised its left wing, for it was in doubt whether to give up the 
hearts or not. " Oh, no," declared the lad ; " the hearts are under 
your right wing. So raise that wing." Being satisfied as to his 
right to ask for the hearts, the loon did so ; and the lad, seizing them, 
rushed out of the lodge just as the sisters returned from chasing the 
elks. 

Resuming his natural form, the lad ran around exultingly, crying, 
" I have taken your hearts. I have taken your hearts." Then the 
three sisters pursued him with their war clubs. As the eldest was 
on the point of overtaking him, the lad squeezed her heart and she 
fell down in a faint. Then the second sister di'ew close to him, when 
he at once squeezed her heart and she, too, fell in a faint. The same 
thing happened to the third sister also. Then the lad came to a great 
round, flat rock, where Deadoeiidjadases was accustomed to kill his 
victims ; he ran around this while the sisters, who had recovered from 
their fainting spells, sought to close with him. Every little while 



138 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

he would squeeze a heart and its owner would fall in a faint; but 
as soon as he stopped squeezing she would spring up again. When 
he had sufficiently tortjured the sisters in this manner he ruthlessly 
dashed their hearts against the great rock, one after another, and 
thus all were killed. 

When the cannibal returned at the usual time and did not find his 
sisters at home he was very angry; but Hadjoqda assured him that 
they were pursuing the elks and that his dinner was left all prepared 
for him. Deadoefidjadases sat down and began to eat. Emboldened 
by the fact that the lad stood beside him holding the heart of 
Deadoefidjadases, Hadjoqda taunted Deadoefidjadases, " the Earth- 
circler." ^° 

At once Deadoefidjadases rushed after the lad, who ran toward 
the great rock. When the man-eater drew near him the lad would 
squeeze the heart and the great Deadoefidjadases would fall in a 
faint. When the lad ceased squeezing the heart the man-eater would 
rise again. So, no matter how he tried, he could get only as near the 
lad as the latter would let him. When tired of this kind of sport the 
lad dashed the heart of the man-eater against the rock, and Dea- 
doefidjadases fell dead in his tracks. 

Around the great rock on every hand the lad found heaps of human 
bones, which he carefully gathered together into a great pile. Plac- 
ing Hadjoqda on the ground with his head toward the west and his 
feet toward the east, the youth went to a great hickory which was 
standing near and shouted, " Do you all rise and run or the tree will 
fall on you." On the instant a great number of persons arose and 
ran in every direction. Hadjoqda received his body back and be- 
came at once as well as ever. But some had legs and arms which had 
belonged to others, and hence were deformed in these members. 

" Now," said the lad to Hadjoqda, " there is no other such straw- 
berry patch in the world. We must all come here to live. This field 
shall belong to you, and I and all my people shall settle around here. 
I shall go after my grandmother and you must go after your friends." 

Among the people whom he had raised the youth found all his 
relations, and these persons accompanied him on his journey to bring 
his grandmother to that country. His grandmother was very glad to 
see all her relations again, as she had never expected this good for-- 
tune. Taking their garments and weapons which the grandmother 
had kept for them in the long room, all set out, with the aged grand- 
mother, for the great strawberry patch of Deadoefidjadases. With 
their friends and relations from far and near, all settled in villages 
around the great strawberry patch, they lived in great content- 
ment thereafter. Among these people who were raised by the potent 
youth were the Okweson, Osoon, and the Goqgwaih [i. e., the Par- 
tridges, the Wild Turkeys, and the Quail] ; the youth and his grand- 
mother, and even Hadjoqda, belonged to the Osoon tribe. 



^^^^l^] FICTION 139 

22. Hat'hondas (the Listener)*' 

Once upon a time an uncle and his nephew lived together in the 
forest. Being very needy, they gathered and cooked for food fungi 
which grow on trees. After they had lived some time in this way 
his uncle said one day to the boy, who had grown nearly to the age 
of puberty, " To-morrow you must go out yonder into the ravine to 
listen, and as soon as you hear something you must hurry back to tell 
me what it is." 

The nephew did as he was ordered. The next morning as soon as 
he heard the song of a bird he hurried home, rushing almost breath- 
less into the lodge and crying, " Oh, uncle, I have heard something ! " 
" Wait a while, nephew," said the uncle. " Wait until I light my 
pipe and the smoke rises from it." *^ 

Soon the smoke arose from the pipe ; then Hat'hondas told what 
he had heard, imitating the call of a bird. " Oh, nephew ! that is 
nothing. Go again to-morrow," said the imcle. He went the next 
day, and heard a bird of some other kind. After rushing to the lodge 
as before, and after his uncle had lighted the pipe, he told his uncle 
what he had heard. Each day he heard a new bii'd and told his 
uncle what he had heard. After several such fruitless trips to the 
ravine he heard two women singing, " I am going [am on my way] 
to marry Dooehdanegen." *^ The women were moving through the 
air coming toward his uncle's lodge. Hat'hondas rushed home almost 
breathless, crying, " Oh, uncle ! I have heard it." " Well, what is it?" 
asked the imcle, and straightway he lighted his pipe and the smoke 
arose from it. " I heard two women singing, ' I am going to marry 
Dooehdanegen,' and they are coming this way," declared the 
nephew. " We must make ready to receive them," said the uncle ; 
" we must put the lodge in order." He therefore smoothed the skins 
on his couch and put his nephew's bed away from his own in the 
corner near the ashes, telling his nephew to lie there while the women 
were in the lodge, and to face the other way, and further to keep 
quiet and not to show his face. The old man then put on his best 
garments, with two feathers in his cap, and tried to be as nimble and 
bright as when a young man. He kept sending his nephew out to 
see how near the women were. When at last they reached the lodge 
the nephew ran in, crying, " Oh, uncle, they are here." " Go to your 
bed ; lie down, and do not stir," said the uncle. 

The women entered the lodge, bringing a basket of marriage 
bread." The old man hurried around to make it pleasant for them, 
but could not interest them, for their minds were elsewhere. They 
kept looking toward the corner where Hat'hondas was lying. When 
night came the old man spread out the skins of his couch and told 



140 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. 32 

them there was the place for them to lie down ; but, going over to the 
corner where the ashes were piled, they lay down with Hat'h6ndas. 
They smoothed his hair and fondled him, speaking pleasant words to 
and about him. The old man was very angry and slept none that 
night. The women left the lodge at daybreak. When Hat'hondas 
awoke, he had become a man in full vigor, strong and fine looking. 

The old uncle now called his nephew, saying : " You now have be- 
come a man. You must follow the women. The mother bears the 
most noted name in sorcery in her tribe. She is now seeking a hus- 
band for her daughter. Near her lodge grows a large hickory tree ** 
on- which sits an eagle as a target. Whoever can bring down that 
eagle will get the daughter. Men go there from every direction and 
place to shoot at it, but no one has yet hit it. You must shoot at it, 
too." 

The old -man then brought out from his chest an outfit consisting 
of a cap of otter skin, a panther-skin coat, leggings of wildcat skin, 
moccasins of owl skin, and a tobacco pouch of fawn skin. The 
garments, which were beautiful and endowed with rare orenda 
(magic power), fitted the young man well. Then the uncle took the 
garments off his nephew; and the cap became a live otter, the robe, 
or mantle, a live panther, the leggings a pair of live wildcats, and 
the moccasins two live owls. Again he put the garments on his 
nephew, telling him to sit down. The latter did so and, opening the 
pouch, took out a pipe, which he filled with tobacco. Immediately 
two gkl sprites and two trick pigeons leaped out of the pouch ; the 
girls brought fire to light the pipe, and as soon as he put it to his 
mouth the two pigeons, which were i^erched on the stem, rustled their 
wings and cooed, being very happy. 

" Now, my nephew," said the old man, " spit." He spat and the 
spittle fell to the ground in a shower of wampum beads. "That is 
enough," said the uncle ; " you shall always spit wampum from this 
pipe. Your outfit will always do what it has done to-day. Now 
you must start. Go directly east. About noon you will find a trail. 
Take that and keep on until j'ou come to the great hickory tree. 
Here are a bow and arrows. The arrows will never miss the mark. 
On the road you must keep no man company. Sleep alone and hurry 
on your way." 

So the young nephew set out. In an hour he came to a trail. 
Finding it so soon, he thought it could not be the right one and ran 
back to inquire. " Oh ! you are a swift runner," said the uncle ; 
" you found the right trail. Follow it." Hat'hondas started again. 
Again he found the trail, which bore toward the east. Near evening 
he saw a man who was making a fire by the wayside, and who in- 
quired of Hat'hondas, "Where are you going?" "Oh! where all 
are going — to shoot at the eagle on the hickory tree," replied the 



S^BwS] FICTION 141 

young man. " Stay with me. It is too late to go farther," said the 
stranger. " No ! I must go on," answered Hat'hondas, hurrying 
away. At night he built a fire and slept by himself. The next day 
he went on without interruption until evening, when a man who was 
building a fire beside the trail urged him to stop, but he refused to 
do so. Again the man urged him but Hat'hondas would go on. 

The third evening he came on a man who insisted and coaxed so 
much that he remained with him overnight. Each occupied one side 
of the fii'e. After supper, Hat'hondas took off his garments and soon 
fell asleep. The strange man attempted to steal the clothes, but the 
mantle, changing into a panther, would not let him come near. Then 
the man, bit by bit, fed meat to the panther until the animal was 
pacified, when he put the mantle on his own shoulders. So with the 
leggings and all the other things, until at last he got possession of the 
whole outfit of the young man, except the bow and arrows, which he 
forgot. When ready, he thrust a sharp dart of hickory bark down 
the backbone of Hat'hondas, and at daylight hurried away to the 
company which had gathered at the great woman's lodge to shoot at 
the eagle. 

Hat'hondas awoke in terrible pain ; he was doubled up like an old 
man and began to cough badly. After much effort and great suffer- 
ing, he succeeded in putting on the other man's garments and in 
dragging himself some distance to a log, on which he sat, holding 
his bow and arrows, with his head bowed in sorrow. 

After he had been sitting there a couple of hours, a poor, destitute- 
looking girl came to him, saying: "My mother lives not far from 
here. I will take you to her." On going home with the girl he 
learned that her mother was his own sister and that she was there- 
fore his niece. He told his sister about the visit of the two women, 
about setting out to shoot the eagle and being robbed on the road of 
everything but his bow and arrows, and, lastly, about becoming- 
decrepit and aged-looking from the effects of the hickory bark thrust 
down his backbone. His sister and her daughter were very poor. 
They had no meat. As they were talking, a robin perched on the edge 
of the smoke-hole. Hat'hondas drew his bow with great difficulty 
and shot an arrow which killed the bird. His sister cut it into small 
pieces and, bruising them, made some soup, which in a measure 
strengthened her brother. The next day a partridge came in like 
manner and he killed that, too ; and then a turkey, so they had pro- 
vision enough. Many days later his sister drew the bark from her 
brother's back and he became well again. 

As he sat by the door one day he heard a great shouting and 
tumult, and asked what it meant. They told him that it was the 
sounds made by those who had assembled to shoot the eagle, and 



142 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ANN. 82 

pointed out the great hickory tree, the top of which could be seen 
above the forest, seemingly not more than 200 or 300 rods away. 

The next day, on looking toward the tree, he could see that some 
arrows came very near the eagle, some not so near, and others far 
away from it. At last he said, " I must shoot an arrow at that 
eagle." "Oh !" said the sister, "you can not hit it from here." But 
he would have his own way, and going outside of the lodge with his 
bow and arrow, he said to his sister's daughter : " Go out into the 
crowd. When I shoot the arrow and the bird falls to the ground 
run and bring it here with the arrow sticking in it, and let no one 
take it from you." The girl went. Her uncle shot, and his arrow, 
flying through the air, struck the eagle. Wlien she grasped the bird 
after it had fallen to the ground a man pushed her aside, and snatch- 
ing the bird from her disappeared in the crowd. She cried out, but 
no one heeded her. Now, the crowd gathered at a mound, a short 
distance from the tree. On this mound the great witch woman was 
sitting with her friends to witness the shooting. The people stood 
in a circle. The stranger came up with the eagle and claimed her 
youngest daughter, who, insisting that he was not the right man, 
refused to marry him; but the old woman said her promise must be 
kept, and had the marriage proclaimed. 

Wlien, in the evening, the yoimg wife would not remove her desig- 
nated husband's clothing, the old woman did so. On taking off the 
moccasins, and throwing them, tied together, over a crossbar near 
the couch, they became owls, so wretchedly weak that they were 
barely able to hold on to their perch; and so with the panther, the 
wildcats, and the otter ; they seemed scarcely alive. 

The young woman would not go near her designated husband, but, 
rolling herself up in a bearskin, slept apart. The next morning the 
mother-in-law, addressing her intended son-in-law, said : " What can 
you do for me '[in thaumaturgy] ? " He opened his pouch, from 
out of which came the girls, who were barely able to bring a coal 
of fire, and the pigeons, nearly lifeless. He smoked, and cast spittle 
on a deerskin which was spread before him, and spittle it remained. 
Again he tried, but with the same result. Then the mother-in-law, 
growing angry, went away in disgust and chagrin. 

The evening after Hat'hondas was robbed the sky was red, and 
his uncle at home knew that his nephew was in great trouble — that 
his life was in danger. He sat down by the fire, throwing ashes 
on his head, and wept, saying, " Oh ! nephew, I shall mourn for you 
ten summers." But now the sky was not so red, and the old man 
laiew that his nephew had gained some relief. 

The second night the young woman slept apart from her designated 
husband. • 



Sfj;?i] FICTION 143 

The next day Hat'hondas's niece, the poor woman's daughter, said. 
" I will visit the great witch woman, for she is a friend of mine." 
Wlien the girl went to the lodge, the great woman was glad to see her. 
She heard all the news of the marriage and that the young woman 
would not go near her designated husband. On reaching home she 
told her mother all she had heard. The next day very early, while 
the strange man was still asleep, Hat'hondas's sister went into the 
great witch woman's lodge and, taking the panther-skin coat with 
the rest of the garments and having thrust the piece of hickory bark 
into the back of the sleeping husband, hurried home. 

Hat'hondas now had his whole outfit. Putting on his garments 
and talring his bow and arrows he went to the lodge of the great 
witch woman. When the daughter saw him coming, she could 
scarcely retain herself for joy, crying out, " That is the man ! That 
is the man ! " 

It was now almost noon, and the designated husband had not 
appeared. On looking for him they found him on the couch all 
doubled up, old and miserable, and coughing terribly. 

As the arrow which was still sticking in the eagle was unlike his 
arrows but just like those which were in the quiver of Hat'hondas, 
the people were convinced that the old man was a deceiver, so they 
threw him out without pity. 

Hat'hondas was now married to the young woman and her mother 
proclaimed to all the people, " My youngest daughter is now mar- 
i-ied." In the evening, when the young wife pulled off her hus- 
band's moccasins and threw them on the crossbeam, they became a 
pair of fine owls with great eyes, and hooted ; as soon as the panther- 
skin coat touched the beam it became a large panther; the leggings 
became two wildcats ; and the cap an otter. 

The next evening the mother-in-law asked her son-in-law, " What 
can you do for me ? " and spread a deerskin in front of him. As he 
opened his pouch the two girls jumped out of it, followed by the 
two pigeons. The girls, running nimbly to the fire, brought coals 
for lighting the pipe. The pigeons, perching on the pipe as he put 
it into his mouth, rustled their wings and cooed. As often as he spat 
the spittle fell on the skin in a shower of wampum beads. 

The next day he went hunting and killed so many deer, bear, and 
elk that all the people had enough, and he sent a great supply to 
his sister. 

After they had enjoyed life a while, he said, " Now, I must go to 
my uncle." His sister prepared provisions for the journey. She 
would shake all the flesh of a deer until it became small as the end 
of her little finger, continuing this process until she had in a small 
pouch venison enough to fill a lodge. On the way when they wanted 



144 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ANN. 32 

to eat venison all they had to do was to strike a very small portion, 
when the meat would resume its natural size. So they traveled till 
they came to the old uncle's lodge. 

While his nephew had been away, animals had tormented him by 
coming to his door while he was sitting near the fire mourning for 
his nephew. He would hear a voice at the door cry, " Quick, Uncle ! 
I have returned," but on opening the door-flap he would find merely a 
fox, rabbit, or some other creature. 

Now, to make sure, he cut a hole in the skin door-flap saying, " Put 
your hand through the hole, if you are my nephew." This being 
done, he tied a strong bark string around the wrist and fastened the 
other end to the pole at the fireplace; then, seizing the corn-pounder, 
he opened the door carefully, intending to strike the intruder. On 
discovering, however, that it was really his nephew, he rejoiced and 
cried out : " Oh ! you have come at last with your wife. Wait, until 
I clean up a little." Soon he let them in. The venison was increased 
in quantity again by striking it against the ground, and there was 
more than enough to fill the lodge, so they had to build a new lodge 
in which to store it. 

They lived on together happily. This is the story of Hat'hondas, 
« The Listener." 

23. The Story or the Ohohwa People 

In a quiet forest, in a lodge of their own, a husband and his wife 
of the Ohohwa people lived in much contention. It was their 
invariable habit to quarrel all night long. In the morning, however, 
all was pleasant again. 

One night a visitor came to pay them a call. As soon as the man 
of the lodge saw the newcomer he went awaj' from the lodge. There- 
upon the would-be visitor remarked to the woman, " It is indeed 
strange that he should go out just as I came in, so I shall go, but 
will come again at another time." With these words he left. 

In a shoi't time the husband returned, and being very jealous of 
his wife, seized the occasion of this visit of a strange man to scold 
and quarrel with her until, becoming enraged, he beat her and 
finally she fought in defense of herself. At last, becoming tired of 
fighting, the husband started off with the remark : " I am going 
to get another wife. I will not be troubled in this way any longer." 
Weeping bitterly, she followed him until, touched by her plight, the 
husband grew sorry for what he was doing and returned with her to 
their lodge. 

In the morning he told his wife that he had had a dream during 
the night. He said, " My dream spirit told me that I must kill a 
large bear and be back home before the dew is off the grass." Osten- 



CDRTIN, 



HEW 



J^] FICTION 145 



sibly he started away to carry out this injunction, but when he got 
out of sight of the lodge he went to the lodge of another woman, who 
also was of the Ohohwa people, where he remained all day. Toward 
night he started for home. On his way he met a fine-looking woman. 
He addressed her, saying, " Where are you going, my cousin ? " She 
replied, " Oh, I am only going home." He asked, " Let me go home 
with you? " Answering coquettishly, "All right, if you can over- 
take me," off she ran with great speed, with him in pursuit. This 
woman was of the Djohkwehyanih *^ people. 

All night long they ran toward the north. About midday they 
came to a lodge, which the woman entered. The Ohohwa man fol- 
lowed, but on entering the lodge he did not see the woman, but only 
two old men. He asked them, " Have you seen a woman pass here? " 
The two men sat with their heads down and did not answer the 
question. But on the question being repeated by the intrtider, one 
of the men, looking up, said, " It seems to me that I heard some 
sound," and the other made the same remark. Then he who spoke 
first said, "Then get our canoe." Going to another part of the lodge, 
the second man returned with a bark canoe and two basswood knives. 
" Now," said the other old man, " seize the game that has come to 
our lodge." The intruder drew back as the old man advanced, cau- 
tioning the old men. saying : " Be very careful, old men. You are 
Nosgwais people, as I know. I came only to ask for information." 
But as the two old men advanced the intruder turned and fled. The 
old men chased him with great speed. After a while, turning and 
running back to the lodge, he seized a wooden mallet and the first 
man that appeared at the doorway he knocked on the head, and he 
did likewise to the second man. As the old men picked themselves 
up they said, " It seems that there is a great deal of fun in the game 
animal that has come to us." On their making another attempt to 
enter their lodge the intruder again knocked them down. There- 
upon one of the old men said : " Get up and do the best you can 
[magically]. Are we to be beaten in this way? It would indeed 
be a singular occurrence for us to be overmatched by the game ani- 
mal that has come to us." But in making a third attempt to enter 
the lodge the old men were still again knocked down. But the in- 
truder said to hin/self , however, " I can not kill these people, and so 
I would better try to escape." So, passing out of the doorway at 
the opposite side of the lodge, he saw the tracks of the woman going 
directly northward. He followed them all day. When night came 
he still saw her tracks leading in the same direction. He remarked 
to himself, " I will soon overtake her, I think." But these tracks 
were not those of the woman. He had made a circuit and at daybreak 
he was near the starting point. He looked down and, seeing his own 
94615°— 18 10 



146 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ANN. 32 

tracks, said : " Oh, another man is following her ! I will kill him 
when I overtake them." Soon he came to the lodge of the two old 
men from which he had started. Again he inquired of the old men 
about the woman, but they caught him and threw him into their 
canoe. Then they began to dispute as to which should kill and 
quarter him. At last they said, " Push the canoe back and leave it, 
for the game animal can not run away." Indeed, the man could not 
release himself, as he seemed to be fastened to the canoe. 

Toward night he heard a voice saying: " You think that you are 
going to die. You would be were it not for me." The man in the 
canoe replied, "I do think so." Then the invisible man said: "No; 
you shall not die. At the end of the canoe there is a string, to which 
hang the two hearts of the old men; and this is why j'ou were not 
able to kill them by knocking them on the head when you were here 
before (he now knew for the first time that he was in the same lodge 
again). Wait until it is dusk; then try to move and you will work 
loose. Then get out of the canoe quietly, and I will give you light 
to see where the hearts are. Take them oil the string and pound them 
up, and you will be free. You can then remain here all night. The 
canoe has great orenda (magic power) , and these two old men use the 
canoe when they travel. If you wish, I will teach you the song that 
belongs to it." The man in the canoe, being very weak, could hardly 
speak, but he replied, " Yes ; I should like to learn the song." Then 
the invisible man answered, " I will teach you the song," and he began 
singing, "Tgdiieke one" o'waqdendV ne" ak^homcd'"\" When he 
finished singing " Cori'ectly my canoe has started " the man in the 
canoe thanked him, saying that he had learned the song. After dusk 
he began to move, and as he moved he gained strength. Looking 
around, he saw a pale light in the end of the canoe. Having freed 
himself, he took the hearts from the cord, and as he crushed them 
he heard groans and. wails of pain. Placing them under the canoe, 
he crushed them, and their cries ceased. Then the young man lay 
down and slept. 

The next morning he awoke and said : ' Now I have something in 
which I can travel. I shall now soon overtake the woman." Setting 
the canoe outside of the lodge, he turned its bow toward the north, 
and, getting into it, he sang the song which he had leaimed to cause 
it to fly. The canoe started off so rapidly that only the wind could be 
heard as it flowed past his ears. All the time the canoe kept going 
higher and higher and swifter and swifter, and the youth grew more 
and more frightened ; he began to fear that the canoe might bear him 
off to some evil place. Suddenly he heard a scrambling sound at the 
stern of the canoe, as if some one were trying to board it from the 
rear. Looking around, the youth saw a man getting aboard, who 
said : " It is wonderful how fast you are going. I was bound to get 



Z""^^^^] FICTION 147 

aboard, so I leaped. You are afraid this canoe will carry you away. 
1 am the person who was with you last night. It is my fault that 
you are frightened, for I did not give you full instructions. The 
reason the canoe goes faster and faster and higher and higher is that 
you keep repeating the song. You should change the words of the 
song, and then you can guide it. I came to tell you this." As he 
stopped speaking, he stepped off the stern of the canoe into the air 
and disappeared. 

The youth now clianged the words of the song, singing, " Tgdiiehe 
'wa''tlce"''dion' ddH ne" aJc^hon'wd'^\" and at once the canoe began to 
descend, gradually coming to the ground. But the occupant of the 
canoe exclaimed, " Oh ! this is not what I wanted. I desired to come 
down a little lower only, not to the ground." So he sang again the 
first words of the song. At once the canoe shot upward like an arrow 
and, heading northward, flew faster than it did before. As it flew 
along the youth saw the woman's tracks ahead. Higher and higher 
went the canoe, the wind whizzing past his ears in a frightful man- 
ner. The speed of the canoe troubled the youth, and finally he ex- 
claimed, " Oh ! I am getting too high again." Then, recollecting that 
he must change the words of the song, he sang, "Tgdiiehe hehdageshon 
hohweson naUhofif w&^T The canoe descended, but its speed was so 
great that he was greatly disturbed and distressed. At last he said, 
" I have learned the music, and all I have to do is to sing, ' My canoe 
must stoi3 immediately.' " 

[The story ends here thus abruptly.] 

24. The Chestnut Tree Guarded by the Seven Sisters 

In a small lodge, deep in a dense forest, a man lived alone with his 
nephew. It was the custom of the uncle to coolc every day the food 
required by his nephew, but he never ate with him. There came a 
time, however, when the little nephew asked his uncle to eat with 
him. The only reply was, "No; I have already eaten my food." 
Then, urging his nephew to be quiet, he would remark, "I have 
cooked this food for you alone." 

As the little nephew grew older he began to wonder at this strange 
conduct of his uncle. Finally he asked him : " Oh, my uncle, I never 
see you eat! How is this? " But the uncle made him no reply. So 
the little nephew decided to try to catch his uncle eating by spying 
on him. One night after this, when the little nephew had eaten his 
supper, he said : " Oh, uncle, I am very tired and sleepy. I am now 
going to bed to get a good rest." With this remark he lay down on 
his bed, and drawing over him the deerskin cover soon began to 
snore as if he were sound asleep. 



148 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

The wily old uncle waited a while, and then assuming that his 
nephew was fast asleep, he decided to begin getting his own evening 
ineal. Going to his bed and carefully searching among the skins with 
which it was covered, he drew forth a small kettle and a very small 
bundle. Then placing the kettle on the bench near the fire and 
opening the bundle, he took out of it some substance, a small quan- 
tity of which he scraped into the kettle. After putting water into 
the kettle he hung it over the fire. When the water began to boil 
the old man, taking a wand from its wrappings of skin, began to 
strike gently on the kettle while he sang the words, " Now, my kettle, 
I want you to grow in size." Obedient to the words of the song, the 
kettle began to increase in size and its contents grew in bulk. Re- 
peating the words and continuing to tap gently on the kettle, the 
old man watched it becoming larger and larger. He kept up the 
singing until he decided that the kettle would hold enough of the 
mush which he was making to satisfy his hunger; then he stopped 
singing and tapping on the kettle. Carefully replacing the rod, or 
wand, in its skin wrapping, he removed the kettle from the fire and 
sat down to eat. After finishing his supper he carefully washed his 
kettle; then he shook it until it decreased to the size it was when he 
took it from the hiding place under the bed, to which place he now 
returned the rod, the bundle, and the kettle. 

The nephew, who was still feigning sleep, was watching his uncle 
through a hole in the bed covering. He decided to take breakfast 
with his uncle in the morning, and in order to do this he resolved 
to arise much earlier than usual. When he arose, however, the youth 
found that his uncle had finished breakfast and was preparing some- 
thing for him to eat. 

After the uncle had gone out to hunt the j'outh brought into the 
lodge a large quantity of bark to make a good fire. About midday 
he said to himself: "I am going to be very kind and good. My 
uncle will be tired when he returns, so I shall have his supper all 
ready for him. I think that I can prepare it just as he does." For 
a long time he searched in his uncle's bed for the bundle; at last 
he found it. On opening it he discovered that it contained a small 
fragment of a chestnut. Beside the bundle he found the kettle, 
which was very small. These were the only articles he found under 
his uncle's bed. He wondered and wondered at what he had dis- 
covered, for he could not understand how it was that with this bit 
of chestnut and the tiny kettle his uncle could make enough mush 
to feed him. Finally he decided on his course of action, saying to 
himself : " Well, I must do this exactly as my uncle did. This chest- 
nut must be enough for one more meal." 

Kindling a good fire, the j'outh carefully scraped all the chestnut 
into the kettle; and then he poured water into the kettle and set it 



CURTIN 

hew: 



7sto] fiction 149 



over the fire. Then taking the wand from its skin wrapping, when 
the water began to boil he gently tapped on the kettle, saying, " I 
want yoii to grow, my kettle." He was so much amused by the in- 
crease in size of the kettle that he kept on tapping it and repeating 
the magical words, until there was hardly room enough in the lodge 
for him, because the kettle and the mush which it contained had 
grown so large; so, climbing to the roof, he continued to tap the 
kettle until it touched the sides of the lodge. He was so busy that 
he did not see his uncle approaching. The latter from a distance saw 
him on the roof, and watched his actions. As he approached the 
lodge he heard the nephew say, " Oh. grow ! my kettle. Oh, grow ! 
my little kettle," and then he knew that the youth had discovered 
everything. This made the uncle very sad and depressed. He called 
to his nephew : " What have you done now, my nephew ? " The youth 
replied in delight: "Oh, I have so much pudding that we shall have 
a grand feast." Then he told his uncle everything. 

The uncle asked, "Did you use all the chestnut? " The youth re- 
plied, " Yes. There was only a small bit here." Thereupon the poor 
uncle exclaimed : " By doing this you kill me. That is the only kind 
of food I can eat. I shall die of hunger now. That kind of chestnut 
does not grow everywhere, and only a person who has great orencla 
(magic power) can get it." "Oh, pshaw!" replied the nephew; "I 
know where there are whole trees full of chestnuts of this kind. 1 
can get a large bagful for you, my uncle. So do not worry." The 
uncle, unconsoled, replied : " No, it is not possible for you to do so. 
This is a bad thing that you have done. This chestnut would have 
lasted me for years. Now I never can get another ; I shall starve to 
death. I may as well tell you about it, for I must soon die." 

Then, shaking the kettle slightly to decrease its size so that he 
could get into the lodge, the uncle said : " There is but one tree in the 
Avorld that bears such chestnuts. Seven sisters who are great sor- 
cerers own that tree. Many men have lost their lives in trying to get 
these chestnuts." The youth confidently replied, " I am sure that I 
can get you one." The uncle answered : " No, you can not. You are 
yet only a small boy. You would lose your life. These seven women 
have a great eagle perched ujDon a very tall tree to watch it. Night 
and day he guards it. Not a living thing can come near the tree, for 
if even a man try his utmost the eagle would discover him and 
scream out a cry of distress. Thereupon the sisters would come forth 
and beat the intruder to death no matter who he might be. Men have 
often taken the forms of various birds and animals to try to deceive 
them, but so far the_v have all failed in their attempts. These seven 
sisters have beaten to death everything that has come near that chest- 
nut tree." But this kindly advice did not change the youth's resolve 
to make the attempt to get some of these well-guarded chestnuts. 



150 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eih. ask. 3: 

The next morning he said to his uncle, " You must tell me where 
the tree stands, for I am going to try to find it." When the fond uncle 
saw that he could not repress his nephew's desire to go, he replied : 
" Go toward the rising sun, and after you have passed through the 
forests intervening you will come to a large open space. In the 
middle of this great clearing you will see a very tall tree near which 
stands a lodge. On the top of this tree sits the eagle with his sharp 
eyes looking in all directions; and it is in this lodge that the seven 
sisters dwell." 

Taking a bag, the young nephew said : " Now, cheer up, uncle. I 
will bring you a whole bagful of chestnuts before you have finished 
eating the pudding in that kettle." With this remark the youth 
started toward the sunrise. After traveling for some time he killed 
a deer, which he cut up, filling his bag with the venison. 

P^inally the nephew came to a place where he began to see through 
the forests to an opening, whereuijon he resolved that he must put 
forth all his caution and craft. So, having the mole as his fetish, 
he called out "Now, my friend, I want you to come to me; come to 
me, you mole ! " In a short time the leaves began to rustle at his 
feet, and a mother mole appeared and asked him, " What do you want 
of me? " The youth replied: "I have done a great mischief to my 
uncle by scraping awaj' all his chestnut. Now I want you to help 
me get more for him. I shall enter your body and you will carry me 
underground to that tall tree yonder on which the eagle is sitting. 
When you are under the tree thrust out your nose a little so that I 
can see. I shall have to carry my bag ^yith me. Do you think that 
you can bear me and it, too? " The mole answered, "Oh, yes! I 
can carry all." 

After reducing his size magically, the youth entered the body of 
the mole and then it made its way to the tree indicated. As the mole 
arrived directly under the ti'ee, thrusting its nose out of the ground, 
it said, " The eagle is looking." In a flash the youth, stepping out 
of the mole, scattered venison all over the ground under the tree. 
The eagle flew down and began to eat voraciously of the meat. In 
the meantime the youth stuffed his bag with the chestnuts, which he 
gathered in handfuls, and just as the eagle was finishing the last 
morsel, the mole was engaged in carrying the youth with his bag back 
to the forest. When the meat was all eaten the eagle uttered a loud 
scream, and out ran the seven sisters with their clubs. "Wlien they 
saw that the chestnuts were already stolen and that no one was in 
sight, they fell upon the eagle and beat it until they had nearly 
killed him. 

Arriving in the forest, the youth said to the mole: "Now, I will 
hide my chestnuts here, and you must then take me back to the 
lodge of the seven sisters, so I can hear what they say, in order to 



^rS] FICTION 151 

learn whether they intend to follow us in an attempt to recover the 
chestnuts." Having again entered the body of the mole, the youth 
told it to go under the ground until it came to the lodge. The mole 
obeyed him literally. When the mole reached the lodge, it thrust 
out its nose and mouth. The youth then stuck his ear out of its 
mouth and listened to what was being said in the lodge. He finally 
overheard one of the sisters say: "It must be a young man just 
grown. No one has succeeded since his uncle in stealing the chest- 
nuts. Perhaps he has a nephew now who is as crafty as he used to 
be, and it may be that he, too, is going to live on chestnuts." An- 
other answered her, saying: "Well, they are stolen. We may as well 
let them go." After hearing this last speech the youth asked the 
mole to bear him back to the forest at once. After reaching the 
forest the youth dismissed the mole with thanks for its aid, and then 
hurried home. 

When the youth reached home he found his uncle sitting by the 
fire, singing his death song, " I must now die of hunger, for my 
nephew will never return to me." Then the nephew rushed into 
the lodge, saying, " Oh, my uncle ! I have brought you here a bag full 
of chestnuts." The old man welcomed his nephew home and gave 
thanks to their guardian spirits for the latter's success, and he was 
very, verj' happy. He is still making chestnut puddings. His 
nephew became a great hunter. He obtained whatever be desired, 
because he had the mole for his guardian spirit and aid. 

[Note. — There are several versions of the foregoing story. In one 
version the tree is guarded by geese. The lad entered one of the 
geese, and as the seven sisters were bathing he slipped from the goose 
into the person of the youngest sister, and she thereby became preg- 
nant. Being born of her, he became the master of the chestnuts.] 

25. The Otter's Heart and the Claw Fetishes 

Once in the fall of the year in time long past, a prominent chief 
with six or seven families went on a hunting expedition far away 
from their village. Having arrived at thei-.- usual hunting gi-ounds, 
they did not find any game for many days. At last the chief, whose 
fetish, or charm, was a fawn skin, calling the members of the party 
to his karu)s''ha (temporary lodge), asked each person to lay hold of 
his pouch fetish, and to declare while touching the pouch what he or 
she intended to kill on the following day. 

The first one to touch the pouch was a man who said that he in- 
tended to kill a bear; the next said that he intended to kill a deer, 
and so on; and finally the chief's wife declared that she intended to 
kill geese. But, as the pouch passed around, the chief's daughter re- 
quested her husband not to touch it by any means ; when it was near- 



152 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

ing them on its round she grasped her husband's arm to keep him 
the more effectually from putting his hand on the pouch. As he 
showed a disposition to touch it, she pushed him over on the ground, 
l)ut he arose again while she still clung to him. In spite of her he 
finally placed his hand on the pouch, saying, " Tomorrow, I shall kill 
two otters before daylight." 

At midnight the chief's son-in-law, arising, went to a place where 
the neighboring stream made a very pronounced loop, and there he 
watched for the otters. Soon he saw two approaching and killed 
both. He was very hungry, and as it was not yet daylight he took 
out the hearts of the otters, which he roasted and ate. By doing 
this he unwittingly destroyed the power of the orenda (magic po- 
tency) of the pouch for those who had touched it; so that day all the 
other persons returned to the lodge without any game. The chief's 
wife, who had said that she would kill geese, also returned empty 
handed. When she saw the geese on the wing and clapped her hands, 
shouting : " Let them fall dead ! Let them fall dead ! " the geese kept 
on flying; in fact the charm, or orenda, of the pouch had been broken 
or spoiled by some one. After these things had been reported to the 
chief, he examined the two otters slain by his son-in-law. When he 
saw that their hearts had been removed, he became veiy angry with 
him. His daughter, the wife of the culprit, becoming frightened 
for the welfare of her husband, concealed a piece of dog's flesh 
and a knife, at the same time telling her husband where he could find 
them in case of need. 

The chief said to his retinue, "My son-in-law has nullified the 
orenda of the pouch by eating one of the taboos, which is the earnest 
of the compact with it: so I think we would better kill him." But 
his daughter exclaimed, " If you kill him, you must first kill me." 
As the chief was quite averse to killing his daughter, he said, " Then, 
instead of killing him we will leave him here naked and without pro- 
visions and we will go far away to avoid the consequences of his 
act." So the chief and the people stripped the son-in-law of every- 
thing, even of his weapons, and then departed, taking his wife with 
them. 

At midnight, when all alone, the son-in-law heard some person 
approaching on snowshoes. for this was in the winter season. In 
a short time a man came to the lodge and said to the young man, 
"You feel that you are doomed to die, do you not?" The young 
man answered, " Yes ; I do think so." Then the stranger said : " You 
shall not die. I have come here to assist you. Tomorrow morning 
follow my tracks to a hollow tree. There you shall find a bear. 
Kill it and you will have plenty of meat and you can make yourself 
a robe and footwear from its skin." Then the stranger went away. 
The next morning the young man could find no tracks other than 



cnBTiN,-! FICTION 153 

hewittJ 

those of a rabbit. These he followed to a large hollow tree, in which 
indeed he found a bear, which he killed. Carrying it home, he 
pkinned and dressed it. From its skin he made himself a robe and 
a pair of moccasins. 

Again about midnight the young man heard some person ap- 
proaching on snowshoes, for the snow was deep. Soon a man's voice 
from outside his lodge said to him : " I sent you help last night. 
Tonight I have come to tell you that your wife will be here to- 
morrow about midday. She believes that you are dead from hunger 
and exposure and she has run away from her father's camp to come 
to look for you. As soon as she has rested, send her on the following 
day for her father and his people. Instruct her to tell her father 
that you are alive and well. Let her say to him, ' My husband has 
meat enough for all.' They will be glad to come back to you, for 
they have no meat and are hungry. They have been punished enough 
for abandoning you." Then the stranger departed. 

The next day about noontide the wife came and she was welcomed by 
her husband. After resting that night the young man in the morning 
sent her for her father. The night she was absent the stranger again 
came to the lodge and said to the young man : " Your father-in-law 
will be very glad to Icnow that you have meat sufficient for yourself 
and for his people, and he will be very willing to come to you. 
When he has arrived here he will exhibit his fetishes, and ostensibly 
to repay you he will give you your choice. Among them is one which 
you must select; this is wrapped in bearskin. It is the claw which I 
lost when your father-in-law caught me in a trap. You must not 
pay heed to your father-in-law's statement that it is not of much 
account. He will insist that you take some other which he will rep- 
resent as of much greater potency than this. But take my advice 
and choose this one." Then the stranger departed. 

The next morning toward midday the chief and all his people 
returned to the lodge of the chief's son-in-law, who welcomed them 
and offered them what he had in the way of food. 

In a few days the chief unfolded all his fetishes, informing his 
son-in-law that he could take his choice. On his reaching over and 
taking the one wrapped in beai'skin, his father-in-law said, " Oh, 
son-in-law ! that is of no account ; here is a better one." But the young 
man, remembering the advice of his midnight visitor, replied, "No; 
I will keep this one," so he retained the one wrapped in bearskin. 

Some time afterward the young man went into the forest to meet 
the strange man who had befriended him and to whom the claw, or 
finger, belonged. He had not gone far when he saw what appeared 
to be a lodge standing in the middle of a clearing. On going to this 
lodge he found a man in it who received from him the claw or 
finger. Thanking him for its return, the man said : " I shall always 



154 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

be your f I'iend for this favor. You shall succeed in all that you may 
undertake." As the young man turned to go home the strange man 
bade him farewell. Having proceeded a short distance toward home, 
the young man turned to take a look at the lodge, but to his surprise 
it had disappeared. What he had thought was an opening in the 
forest was now a large body of water. 

Ever after this circumstance the chief's son-in-law enjoyed good 
fortune in all that h-e undertook. He became a great hunter and a 
great warrior. When his tribe waged a war against a neighboring 
people he took many scalps and many prisoners. Whatever he 
desired he obtained easily in abundance. It was said by those who 
knew the circumstances that his good luck came from the friendship 
of the otter, whose finger, or claw, the young man had so generously 
returned to it. 

26. The Seven Sisters Who Produced Wampum 

In the long ago there lived seven sisters who were endowed 
through their orenda with great skill in sorcery. These sisters lived 
together in a lodge situated on a high mountain. From this advan- 
tageous situation they were able to see a long distance in every 
direction. 

One of their chief occupations during berrying time was to gather 
large quantities of huckleberries for drying and storing. They 
would carry long baskets on their backs by means of the forehead 
strap and smaller ones in their hands, for collecting the berries from 
the plants and bushes. These berries they gathered in the neigh- 
boring patches which belonged to them and brought them home to 
dry in the sun. 

Now, it so happened that these seven sisters were misanthropes, 
and they boasted that they hated men. Each one of them sincerely 
and frequently said, "I can not bear the odor of a man." True to 
their animosity to men, they would not permit one to come near 
their domicile. They carried this aversion to the presence of men 
to the extent that they would have no relations whatever with mar- 
ried women, even turning up their noses at them, with the contemptu- 
ous remark, " Oh, they smell of men." So they would not allow 
either men or women near their huckleberry patch. 

Among the young men who heard of these peculiar sisters was one 
who determined to have a look at them. In order to see them he 
managed to conceal himself in their huckleberry, patch about the time 
of their coming. When the sisters, therefore, came with their bas- 
kets into the berry patch the young man saw the youngest, with 
whom he immediately fell deeply in love, for she was very beautiful 
in face and attractive in figure. He then and there decided to ap- 



^"'/JS] FICTION 155 

proach steailthiiy the spot where she was picking berries by herself 
and to speak to her at all hazards. He did not get the opportunity 
until the next day. 

On going again to the spot he had chosen as the best place to meet 
her, he concealed himself and awaited the coming of the seven sisters 
to their daily task of gathering berries. By good fortune the young- 
est sister came directly to the place near which the ardent gallant 
was concealed, and he lost little time in making his presence known 
by speaking to her in very low tones lest the other sisters should 
hear him. The sister addressed, turning around, saw him and at 
once fell in love with him, for he was a fine-looking j'oiing man. He 
said to her, " I greatly desire to speak to you, but I do not want your 
sisters to overhear me, for I am afraid of them." So she stopped 
picking berries and listened to what he had to say to her. They con- 
versed together for a long time. At last he remarked : " I must go 
lest your sisters discover me. I will meet you here tomorrow." 

After her lover had gone the youngest sister tried very diligently 
to fill her basket with huckleberries, but she did not have time to do 
so before the eldest sister called out, " Come, n6w, my sisters, our 
baskets are full, and we must go home." They started toward their 
lodge, but missing their youngest sister, called her until she came. 
She acted shyly, being afraid to go very near them lest they should 
detect any odor which would let them know that she had been 
near a man. Then they asked her, " How is it that you have not 
filled your basket?" To deceive them she feigned illness, but the 
eldest sister, going near her, exclaimed in disgust : " Oh, pshaw ! 
She emits the odor of a man. Indeed, she has been near a man." 
The youngest sister attempted to deny this charge, for she was afraid 
of her sisters; but they would not lielie\e her. Too well did they 
know the odor of a man. They were very angry, and they scolded 
and threatened her; but she was now thinking of the young man, 
and so did not care what they said or did. 

The next day they started out again to gather huckleberries, and 
the youngest sister went directly to the spot where the young man 
had promised to meet her. She was more than delighted to see him 
there awaiting her coming. She sat down with him and they made 
love to each other. The other sisters, being very busy, forgot to 
watch her, as they did not expect that anyone would have the temerity 
to lurk, unwelcome, in their huckleberry patch. Finally she told him 
how angry her sisters were on the preceding day because her basket 
was not full, and so they began to pick berries together. When her 
basket was nearly full, the eldest sister again called out : " Come, 
sisters ! our baskets are full. We must now go home." 

The youngest sister lagged behind as long as possible, and the other 
sisters waited for her until she came up to them. When she drew 



156 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [etu. ann. 32 

near they cried out in bitter anger : " Oh ! she smells strong of a man. 
She can not deny that she has been talking again to a man." There- 
upon they threatened to turn her away and not to let her enter their 
lodge again. But she begged them not to do so, saying : " What if I 
do marry? I shall not bring my husband into this lodge, for he will 
take me away to his own lodge." But they wovdd not listen to her 
pleading, their only answer being, " Tomorrow we shall go once more 
to pick huckleberi'ies, and if you again talk to a man we shall never 
permit j'ou to come again into our home." 

All that evening and night she sat pensively thinking of her situa- 
tion and of the young man. She could not bring herself to the point 
of giving him up. Finally she decided to cast her lot with his people, 
saying to herself, " Well, they may do as they like, but as for me I 
shall accept the young man as my husband." Collecting a small 
bundle of her belongings, she carefully concealed them outside the 
lodge, so that in case they would not let her return to the lodge she 
could get them. During that same evening and night her sisters kept 
saying: "Oh! what a disgusting smell that is. How can she stand 
it?" and they made fearful grimaces at the odor. 

The next day the seven sisters went again to gather huckleberries. 
The elder sisters were so incensed at their youngest sister that they 
paid little attention to her beyond murmuring continually against her 
reprehensible conduct. 

On her part she went directly to the usual place, where she met 
the young man, who was impatiently waiting for her. After hear- 
ing how bitterly opposed his sweetheart's sisters were to her love- 
making, he said to her, " If they do not let you go to your home, 
come to me, and I will be most happy to care for you." 

When the time came for the sisters to go home and they made 
the usual call, she would not go near them, telling them to go on and 
that she would make her way home by herself. Then they said : 
" She has been with that man again. She will indeed bring shame 
upon us." At last some of the younger sisters, relenting a little, said : 
"What shall we do? She is our yoimgest sister. She is very proud. 
If we turn her away from home, she will never come back again. 
AVe shall then lose her forever"; and they were verj' sad and dis- 
consolate. But the elder sister, more conservative than they, said, 
" We must turn her away from us, because if we do not do so, some 
other sister here will be doing the same thing as she has done." She 
was able to bring them, as least outwardly, to her view, and so when 
the erring one came to the lodge, they said, " You must not come into 
this lodge any more." 

Deeply grieved, the youngest sister replied, " If you have thus 
deliberately cast me out from you, I will go away." and true to her 
unswer, she started away. Weeping bitterly thus to leave her sisters, 



^wm] FICTION 157 

whom she loved dearly, she walked along, hardly knowing whither 
she was going. But in her grief she instinctively started back to the 
young man, who had promised to care for her should her sisters cast 
her out. Suddenly, while she was thus pensively walking along, she 
heard the voice of the young man addressing her, saying : " Lo ! I 
followed you near enough to see for myself how your sisters would 
treat you. Now that they have cast you out, I ask you to come with 
me to my lodge and be my wife." Having no other present resource, 
she accepted his offer and the young man led her honie in triumph. 
Now it so happened that the young man was an only son, and his 
mother was delighted to learn that he had obtained a fine-looking 
young wife. 

P'or a time they were undisturbed in their ha^Dpiness arising from 
their devotion to each other. But there came an evil day when the 
young man's mother began to be i.^nloiis of her daughter-in-law, 
for she felt that the young wife had displaced her in her own son's 
affections. She felt this the more keenly because up to the time of 
his marriage he had been devoted to his mother and had not passed 
his time in the company of other women and men. Now he was 
attentive to his wife and tried to grant her every wish, although he 
did not neglect his mother at all on this account. The young man 
and his wife were accustomed to go away on hunting trips for sev- 
eral days at a time, and on their return brought much game and 
meat. But the young man noticed that his mother's manner had 
changed toward him and his wife, and this troubled him. 

His wife, being a prospective mother, did not accompany him 
when her term was approaching; but when her husband left he 
would say to her : " You must be very wary, as I am afraid that my 
mother may do you harm, for she is very jealous of my love for you. 
Before knowing you I loved only her; but now I love you, and of 
course she feels that you have taken her place. I am afraid that she 
may do you harm, although I do not think that she will attempt 
to poison you. But you must be kind to her, and do not let her know 
what I have told you. Be on your guard at all times." 

At last, without telling his mother the reason, he took his wife 
away with him to the forest, where he built a lodge and remained. 
Soon a boy was born to them. 

After a while the young man, wishing to laiow whether his mother 
was in need, went to visit her, carrying a large quantity of game. 
He was not long absent. He made several such trips to his mother. 
It was his practice to tell his wife just when she should expect him to 
return, and he did not fail to keep his promise. At last, however, he 
did not return. Time passed ; his wife anxiously waited for him day 
after day, but he never returned. She told her son, who had grown 
to be quite a lad, that his father must be dead or that his mother 



158 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

had made him a captive in such maimer that he could not escape to 
return to them. 

Years passed and the boy grew into manhood. In looks and man- 
ner he was the exact double of his father. He had Ijecome a great 
hunter and was very fond of killing turkeys. 

One evening on his return from hunting he found only the upper 
half of his mother's body lying on her bed, while the other half was 
gone. She told him that while she was bending over a kettle, cook- 
ing, two men came into the room and, stealing up behind her, with 
a single blow cleft her body in two; that they then fled with the 
lower half, leaving her to die. She had crawled on her hands to her 
bed. 

The youth, who was in terrible grief by reason of his mother's 
misfortune, exclaimed: "Oh, mother! 3'ou can not live. Oh! you 
will surely die." But she consoled him by telling him that she had 
healed her body and that she could live a long time as she was then; 
and that, if she could recover by any means the lower half of her 
body, she could cause the two parts to unite again, so that she would 
be as well as ever. 

Moreover, calling her son to her side, she said to him: "Now you 
are old enough to laiow about such things, I will tell you all that 
you should know. This misfortune has come upon me through the 
machinations of my sisters, who are six in number. There were 
seven of us. When I was unmarried wampum beads of great value 
passed from me. This was true also of my sisters. But when I 
married your father this ceased, and my sisters were very angry 
with me. This is the reason why my sisters do not marry, for 
they are becoming very rich by selling the wampum beads which 
they obtain in this manner. Since your father went away I again 
pass wampum beads; and this is the reason that the lower 
part of my body has been stolen by the two men, who were sent 
here by my sistei's. It now hangs in the lodge of public assembly, so 
that the wampum beads may be gathered from it. You shall bring 
back my body to me. I will give you the magic power to do it^ 
the orenda which will enable you to call to your assistance any being 
or thing that you may need." Placing her head upon his shoulder 
and her hand on his head, she continued : " You are my son, and I 
am one of the Seven Sisters. Whatever you wish to do you will 
now always be able to do by such aid as you may call on to assist 
you." 

After this annunciation she thrust her hand into her bosom and 
drew therefrom a tiny black dog. Giving it to her son, she said: 
" This little dog shall be a companion to you hereafter. It will aid 
you." The youth exclaimed with delight, "Oh, mother! why did 
you not give me this beautiful little dog long ago ? " The boy waa 



b'L'^Vtt'] fiction 159 

delighted with the tiny dog, taking it up and caressing it in an 
exuberance of joy. When he put the dog down, it leaped around, 
trying to bark and seeming to be full of life. " Now," said the 
mother, " I will show you what you have to do in this matter." 
Taking a small wand from her bosom, she gently tapped the dog, 
accompanying the action with the words, " Grow ! my dog. Grow ! 
my dog." With each blow of the wand the dog increased in size 
until he became an immense beast. Then she said to the boy : " Get 
on his back and you will see that he can carry you. You must be 
very kind to him and never neglect him. He will always fight for 
and protect you. Should you desii'e to make him small again, 
pull his ears and shake him gently, and he will assume any size you 
may wish, from a great dog to one so small that you can secrete him 
in your bosom." 

The youth willingly accepted his mother's commission, saying: 
"Mother, I shall not wait another day to perfect my preparations. 
I will go after the lower part of your body at once." His mother 
told him that the oil of a wild turkey was the only thing which 
could make the parts of her body grow together again; that it 
must come from a gobbler; and that he should prepare this oil 
liefore he went after the lower part of her body. She told him fur- 
ther that the oil must be rubbed hot on the raw flesh, and that then 
the two parts would grow together again, and she would be well. 
The youth said, " I will kill the turkey gobbler on the way." But his 
mother said to him, " Oh, no ! The turkey must not be killed until 
we are ready to use the oil, for it must live until the last minute." 

Then the youth started on his quest for the lower part of his 
mother's body. While on the way he encountered a flock of wild 
turkeys and contrived to take a fine gobbler alive. He fastened it 
to a tree where it would not be devoured by prowling animals of 
prey and where he would find it on his return. 

When the youth drew near the lodge of public assembly, which 
was his destination, he heard loud laughing, screaming, and quarrel- 
ing over wampum beads, which the people were getting from his 
mother's body. This made him very angry and determined to 
accomplish his errand. Having made his dog very large, he said to 
it, "Remain here until I return"; then he went to the lodge of 
assembly. On his way there he called on the Chief of the Crows to 
come to his aid. In a moment the Black Chief was at his side ready 
for any command. To him the youth said : " Friend, my mother's 
body is hanging on a post inside of the lodge and the people are 
getting wampum beads from it. Now, when the people stoop down to 
gather the beads I wish you to go in at the smoke-hole, draw up 
the body out of the lodge, and quickly bring it to me." The Black 
Chief replied, " I will do your bidding at once." Waiting until the 



160 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ANN, 32 

people on the inside of the lodge began to scramble and fight for the 
wampum beads, he swooped down through the smoke-hole, and 
seizing the part of the body which he sought, he flew out with it to 
the waiting youth, who sat on the back of the monster dog. With 
an exclamation of thanks to his friend, the Black Chief of the Crows, 
the youth parted from him. The huge dog ran homeward with 
great speed, directing his way to the place where the turkey was 
fastened to the tree. Having obtained it, the dog soon brought the 
youth, the part of the mother's body, and the turkey to the waiting 
mother, who hardly expected her son back so soon. At once the 
youth killed the turkey, and taking the oil from it, rubbed it on the 
severed surface of the lower part of the body. 

After treating likewise the surface of the upper part he brought 
the two parts of her body close together, whereupon they joined of 
themselves. Then the woman with her hands rubbed the place of 
juncture. Becoming then entirely whole, she arose and, standing, 
said, '■ I am well now, and no one shall come to trouble us again. I 
am thankful to you." This prediction proved true, for they two 
lived in peace and contentment. 

The youth became a great hunter, famous for his great successes 
in the chase. His mother continued to pass wampum beads as in 
former years, and their lodge was richly ornamented with many 
strings of wampum, each of which was worth a man's life and two 
that of a woman.'"'" Although the 3'outh was always looking for his 
father, the latter never returned. 

27. The Forsaken Infant and Gaha (the Wind) 

A number of Seneca went hunting. When they had finished their 
hunting and were ready to return home, they did not know what to 
do with a little boy whose father and mother had died while 
they were at the chase. They had so much meat that they could not 
well carry him, and, owing to his infancy, he could not walk. Fi- 
nally they decided to leave him in the hunting lodge, with plenty of 
wood and meat. Learning this, the child cried bitterly. 

When the hunters reached home the report went around that a 
child had been left in the woods, and all feared that it would die. 
At once the chief sent a trusty man to see whether the child was 
alive. When he got outside the village the man turned himself into 
a great bear, so that he could run the faster. 

Meanwhile the child kept a good fire and cooked meat and lived 
fairly well. One cold night he began to cry, for the meat was nearly 
gone and all the wood had been burned. At last he heard some one 
come to the door, making a sound as if shaking the snow off his feet, 



CtJKTI 

HEW 



'S] FICTION 161 



and call out: "Well, little boy, you think you are going to die, but 
you will not. I am going to help you. The chief has sent a man to 
see whether you are still alive, but he will not be here for some time 
yet. I will be your friend. When you want me to aid you all you have 
to do is to think of me and I will come." Soon after that the boy 
fell asleep. In the morning he found a pile of wood at his door, 
and on a low limb of a near-by tree hung a piece of meat. Now he 
was happy. Building a fire, he cooked and ate some of the meat. 

The next night this strange man came again. Stopping at the 
door, he shook his feet but he did not come in. He said : " The man 
who is coming will not help you; he is coming in the form of a great 
bear; he will be here tomorrow forenoon. In the morning you will 
find between the roots of the. old stump in the dooryard a trusty 
knife. You must sharpen this knife to kill the bear. When he is 
near, you must run to the spring where the tall hemlock stands and 
climb the tree a little way; the great bear will follow you. Then 
slip down on the other side, and when he is coming down after you, 
stab him in the forefoot." 

The next morning the boy did as the voice told him. After he 
had killed the bear, he went to the lodge and was very glad. 

The next night he awoke, and the stranger, knocking, said : " My 
friend, I want to say to you that men are coming for you ; you must 
go with them for they will be fond of you. You must not be proud. 
The headman of the tribe will want you to stay with him. You will 
be one of the fastest runners among your people. Do not forget that 
I am your friend; you will not be able to see me, for I am the one 
whom you call Gaha. If you are in trouble just think of me and I 
will come and help you. Tomorrow afternoon four men will be in 
this lodge. They will ask you about the great bear, and you shall 
say, ' I saw no great bear, but a strong wind went through the woods 
one morning.' " 

The next day four men came to the lodge with food; they saw that 
the boy had wood and meat but no bow nor arrow. They took him 
home the next day. The chief ordered them to bring him to his lodge 
for the lad's relatives were all dead. The chief said, " You shall be 
my grandson and you shall live with me." The boy wanted a club 
instead of a bow and arrows. "What do want a club for?" asked 
the chief. " To kill deer with," replied the boy. The chief had a club 
made for him. Owing to his great speed, the youth used to chase 
deer, which he struck in the forehead with his club; he also killed 
birds by striking them before they could rise to fly. 

The last word that his friend Gaha said to him was : " Do not 
think that you are the swiftest runner living. Do not boast of your 
speed." But the boy had this idea of running always in his mind; 
i94615°— 18 11 



162 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

when he saw other boys running, he laughed, thinking, " That run- 
ning is nothing; I can run faster than any other living man." 

One night he heard some one come and strike the door post near 
the bed. He did not speak. Then a second knock, and the visitor 
spoke, saying, "Who is there?" "I am here," answered the boy. 
" Well, I challenge you to run a race with me. because you think that 
you are the swiftest runner living. We will start from the second 
mountain and run from sunrise to sunset." declared the stranger. 

In the morning the boy asked his grandfather whether he had 
heard a man talking in the night. " No," came the answer. " Well, 
a man challenged me last night to run a race," said the boy. " Oh ! 
I do not believe it is a man. It is a beast. Perhaps you will get 
killed," said £he old man. "Well, I must be ready," said the boy; 
" we run on the third morning from this." The youth made ready 
ten pairs of moccasins, put flint on his arrows, and took prepared 
parched corn to eat. 

On the third morning he went to the appointed place. As he drew 
near he saw there a great dark mass. When nearer he saw an im- 
mense creature, but he did not know what it was. When dajdight 
came, he saw that it was a great bear. AVhen the sun appeared the 
bear said. " Now, we will start." At once he leaped straight across 
the valley to the next hill. The ground sank where he struck. He 
leaped from hill to hill all the time, but the boy had to run through 
the valley. At noon the great bear was ahead, and the boy was 
falling behind. The latter began to think, "I am lost; I wish my 
friend Gaha would come." At that moment Gaha came in a whirl- 
wind and carried the boy far ahead of the bear. Gaha threw all the 
trees down, and the bear was delayed jumping over them. The boy 
called to the great bear, " You must do better than that." The great 
bear then gave up, telling the boy that he might have his life ; so the 
boy killed him. Then he took some burned tobacco to his friend Gaha. 
and, after doing this, asked tc be taken home. His friend, carrying 
him in a whirlwind, set him down in front of his grandfather's lodge. 
The boy said : " I have come, grandfather. I have killed the great 
bear, and you must send and get his body." The grandfather sent 
eight men to get his body. They wei-e twenty days going and twenty 
days returning. The boy was not one day coming, for Gaha carried 
him over the woods and under the clouds. 

28. The Old Man and the Bot 

In the past an old man and a small boy lived together in a lodge 
by themselves. With great affection they passed the time. Each 
called the other " friend." They were not blood relatives, only 
cousins. 



^Z^^l FICTION 163 



hewittJ 



One day the old man dressed himself richly — sticking new feathers 
in his headdress, trimming his hair, and paintinj; his face, and put- 
ting on new moccasins. The little boy, watching him, asked, " Wliat 
are you going to do, my friend ? " " Oh, I am going to see the world. 
I shall be gone a good while. I shall make a long journey," the old 
man answered. " Can I not go with you ? " asked the boy. " Well, 
if your father and mother will let you go, I will take you along," 
said the old man. 

Going to his mother, the boy asked her if he might go. After 
thinking a minute, she said, "Yes; you may go," and gave him a 
new pair of moccasins to wear on the journey. 

He returned to his friend, who washed him, trimmed his hair, 
painted his face, put new feathers in his headdress, and gave him a 
fine new bow and arrows. Then both set out together. They traveled 
until night, when they stopped and made their fire in the woods; 
then they ate their evening meal and slept. 

They traveled in this way for five days, until they came to a lake 
so broad that they could not see the other shore. " How can we 
get across ? " asked the boy. " Oh ! we shall have to make a canoe," 
said the old man. " AA^ill it take long? " asked the boy. " About one 
day," the old man replied. He looked around in the woods until he 
found a large bitternut hickory tree ; stripping off the bark he made 
a large canoe. 

The next morning the old man and the boy, putting their bows, 
arrows, and fur robes into the canoe, started across the lake. The 
boy was seated in front and the old man, who paddled, in the stern. 
In the evening they came in sight of a low island, and without land- 
ing they fastened their canoe to the bullrushes that grew around the 
shore. "How can we sleep here? Is it safe? Are there not things 
in the water that might kill us? " were some of the anxious queries 
of the boy. " Oh I " said the old man, " there are fi^h in the water, 
and there are in the world evil things reaching from the bottom of the 
water up to the home of the Master of Life."*' "If the wind blows 
we shall be carried off into the lake," said the boy. " Oh, no ! we are 
safe," said the old man. So both lay down and soon fell asleep. 

About midnight the boy heard a rushing sound as of swiftly mov- 
ing water, and it seemed to him that the canoe was moving rapidly. 
He thought that the wind must be blowing hard. On sitting up in 
the canoe he found that the weather was calm. Then he thought that 
the water must be running very fast, and putting his hand overboard 
he found this to be true. He roused the old man at once by shaking 
his feet and saying: "Get up, friend, and see what the trouble is. 
The water is nmning by very fast. Where is the lake going ? What 
are we to do? " "Lie down," said the old man, "no harm will come 
to you or me." 



164 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

The boy then lay down, but he could not sleep. Just at daybreak 
a voice spoke to him. Opening his eyes, he saw a fine-looking, mid- 
dle-aged man, beautifully decorated with paint and feathers, stand- 
ing at the bow of the boat. The boy saw, too, that the canoe was on 
dry land. Now the stranger roused the old man saying, " Come 
with me." Taking up their bows and arrows and other equipage, 
they followed the man, who took them to a long lodge. They entered 
it. There were, they saw, many persons inside, some asleep, some 
uwake. AVhen the old man of the lodge met them he said to the 
guide, " Oh ! you have brought them," and then, turning to the two 
friends, he said : " I am glad that you have come. I know you have 
lieard of us before. We are the people whom you call Hinon in 
your home. We bring rain to make corn and beans and squashes 
grow. We sent our young man to the island for you. It is we who 
put it into your mind to come east. AVe want you to help us, for you 
are more powerful in orenda than is anything else. The world was 
made for you. You are more powerful in orenda in some respects 
than we are, and we want you to help us to kill some of your and 
our enemies." 

Then they ate their morning meal. There were all kinds of food — 
corn, beans, squashes. " We have these things. We take a little from 
a great many fields," said the old man. " When you see a small row 
of corn, or a withered squash, or bad kernels of corn on an ear, or 
dried-up beans in a pod, then you may know that we have taken 
our part from these. AVe have taken our part — that part is the 
spirit of these things — and we have left the shells, or husks. If you 
should see a whole field blasted and withered, then you would know 
that we had taken the whole field. But we seldom or never do that. 
We take only a little from each field." 

After they had eaten, the youngest warrior of the long lodge said : 
"Now we will go and try to kill the great porcupine. Off' there on 
the hill stands an immense hemlock tree, the largest tree in the 
whole country. On that tree dwells a terrible porcupine, of such 
size that his quills are as large as long darts. These he hurls in all 
directions, killing all who approach him. We Hinon can not kill 
him, and we are afraid to go near the tree." So they all agreed to go 
together. 

As they went toward the tree the boy marched ahead with his 
little bow and arrows. The old man, his friend, and the Hinon 
laughed to see him, and the eld man said in fun: "I think that our 
little friend might try his luck first." " All right," said the Hinon. 
The little boy was pleased with the suggestion. They stopped at a 
good distance from the great hemlock tree. No one would venture 
nearer. 



^riTTJ FICTION 165 

Then, the little boy going clown into the ground, went forward 
until he was directly under the tree in which the porcupine lived. 
Putting his head and arms out of the ground, ind taking aim, he 
sent an arrow into the porcupine's body. It moved a little. Then 
lie sent another and still another arrow in quick succession. Feeling 
something hit him, the porcupine, raising his quills, shot them in 
every direction. To avoid them the boy hid under the ground. Then 
the porcupine groaned and, lolling from the tree, fell to the ground 
dead. Thereupon all the Hinon with the old man came up. Cutting 
open the great porcupine, which was very fat. they took out his en- 
trails, and then dragged his body home ; they saved his quills and ate 
his flesh. All wondered at the orenda of the little boy. 

Old Hinon was delighted. " Now," said he, " we have another 
enemy — a great and terrible sunfish, which lives in our river here and 
w'hich lets no one come near for water; he devours everything, and 
he even springs up out of the water and catches birds as they fly over 
the river. The little boy said, "I can kill him without trouble, for 
he is in the water."' 

The next day the Hinon and the old man went near enough to show 
him where the sunfish lived. The trunk of a great tree had fallen 
into the river, and it was under this that the sunfish used to lie in 
wait. He was in his lurking place when they arrived there. The 
little fellow at once saw him; he shot his arrow straight into the 
heart of the sunfish, which came to the surface and died. Springing 
into the water, the whole party of Hinon pulled the sunfish to land 
and dragged him off to the lodge of old Hinon, who was overjoyed 
at seeing his second enemy dead. " He is good eating," said old 
Hinon, and they feasted on him that day. 

The third day old Hinon said: "Now comes the turn of our last 
enemy. Every other day there flies past here an enormous butter- 
fly, as big as a cloud. He brings sickness, and many of our people 
die because of him. If we could kill this butterfly, we should have 
good health and very few of us would die. He pusses over here from 
the west early in the morning and goes back in the evening. Wher- 
ever he goes he carries sickness. He will come tomorrow morning." 

The next morning very early they went out in the high grass, 
where they waited. Soon the great butterfly appeared, flying toward 
them. He was almost over the place where they were concealed when 
the little boy, drawing his bow, let an arrow fly. This struck the 
butterfly, whereupon the hind part of his body immediately 
dropped, hanging toward the ground. All expected to see him fall. 
Instead of that he turned and flew back slowly in the direction from 
which he came. Hinon said : " I am very glad. I do not think that 
he will come again to this place. Our last enemy is destroyed." 



166 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (bth. ann. 32 

The}' then went back to the lodge and ate. As the day passed, the 
old man said to the two friends, " You may stay and live with us 
or go home, as you choose." The old man said : " I am old and can 
not help you, but my young friend — the little boy — may stay. He 
is very powerful in orenda. He can do anything, and will be of 
great assistance to you." " Well," said the Hinon, " we are going to 
your place this evening. There will be a great dance there tonight. 
We will all go and have some sport, and will carry you as we pass 
along in the clouds." 

After dark, when the council lodge was full of men and women 
dancing, the old man, the boy, and the Hinon went in. As the 
Hinon entered, they began to dance. When they shook their heads 
the lightnings began to play Ground the lodge. The chiefs said, 
" Our grandfathers are here tonight. They should behave them- 
selves or they may do us harm." Then for a little while the Hinon 
quieted down. Later, again becoming excited in the dance, they 
shook their heads until the lightning flashed everywhere and the 
people were afraid. 

After dancing as much as they wished the Hinon went home, 
leaving the old man but taking the boy with them, and today the 
little boy goes with them everywhere. "And after the great peals of 
thunder we hear the little fellow with his boyish voice, and we say, 
' That is the boy.' We burn tobacco to him, saying, ' This is all we 
have to give you,' and we thank him for the rain that he and the 
Hinon bring," say the Seneca. 

29. The Story of the Girls Who Went for a Husband*' 

There was an old woman Yegondji of the Awaeh people with 
three daughters who had grown to young womanhood. One day 
she said: "My daughters, I have had a great deal of trouble in 
rearing you, and thus far I have not eaten anything but onehsa 
[moss] ; BOW I should like to have some meat to eat. You are old 
enough to get married. There is a rich woman of the Donyonda 
people, named Doendjowens. who has a son, Tagonsowes. He is a 
good young man and a great hunter. I want two of you to go to her 
lodge and marry this son." 

The girls set to pounding corn for the maiTiage bread. The old 
woman baked 22 cakes in the ashes, which she wrapped in corn husks. 
The nest morning she dressed the girls' hair and painted their faces 
with red stripes. She told the elder to carry the basket, and cau- 
tioned them, saying, " Stop nowhere until you come to the lodge of 
Doendjowens, and do not inquire of anyone on the way, or speak to 
any man." The elder daughter took the basket and the younger 
followed her. 



CDKTI 
HBWIT 



?^] FICTION 167 



About midday they saw a middle-aged man of the Ohohwa people 
running across the road, who was saying : " I have lost my arrow. 
I was shooting a fisher on a tree and the arrow has gone so far that 
I can not find it." The elder daughter put her basket on a log and 
both girls hunted for the arrow. The strange man ran around the 
girls, and seizing the basket of marriage bread, carried it home. The 
younger sister did not like hunting for the arrow and reminded her 
sister of what their mother had said, but still she had to follow her 
elder sister. After a while, failing to find the arrow, they returned 
to the log; discovering that the basket was gone, both girls went 
home. The mother asked them what had become of the bread. The 
younger said, "A man asked us to look for his arrow, and I think 
that he stole it." The old woman scolded them, saying : " You do 
not love me. You know that I am suffering for meat, and still you 
disobey me." Then she said to the younger girl, " We will make 
more marriage bread to-morrow and you and your youngest sister 
shall go this time." 

The next day they made 22 loaves of marriage bread. The day 
following, after the old woman had dressed their hair and had given 
them the same cautioning as before, the two girls set out. Going by 
the same road, they again met the Ohohwa man, whom they asked 
how far it was to the lodge of Doendjowens. " Oh," he said, " it is 
not so far. It is right over here," showing them his own lodge. 
There they found Ohohwa's wife and one little boy. The girls put 
down the marriage bread near the woman, thinking that she was 
Doendjowens. 

When the man came home he sent his wife to the other side of the 
fire, telling her to pretend that he was her brother. She did so. He 
sat between the girls, talking to them. Soon the little boy begun 
to say, " Father ! Father ! " Thereupon Ohohwa said : " This is 
my sister's son. His father was buried yesterday and the boy is call- 
ing for him." Then Ohohwa began to cry for his brother-in-law. 

At last somebody was heard running. He came and kicked at the 
door, calling, " Ohohwa, they want you at Doendjowens's long 
lodge." Ohohwa said to the girls: "They are always using nick- 
names here. My real name is Tagonsowes." He continued : " They 
are holding a council and can not get on without me, so I must go. 
You lie down here whenever you like, and I will come home soon." 
Then he went away to attend the council. 

The younger girl whispered : " Let us go out. This is not Tagon- 
sowes's lodge. If we could get the basket we might go on." When 
Ohohwa's wife fell asleep the younger girl took the basket of mar- 
riage bread out of doors, saying: "We must go on. Let us put two 
elm logs in the bed." They did so, and started away. 



168 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. asn. 32 

Soon they came to an open place in the center of which stood 
a council lodge. They stood near the lodge and, peeping through a 
crack in the side of it, saw Doendjowens, a fine-looking woman and 
her son, who sat near her, a splendid young man. There were two 
fireplaces in the lodge. There were also many people, men and 
women. Ohohwa was in the lodge, and the people were singing for 
him to dance. As he danced they threw pieces of meat into his 
mouth and struck his blanket with fat. He was a sight to look at. 
The girls recognized him. 

The younger daughter now went into the lodge followed by the 
elder, who put the basket of marriage bread near Doendjowens. The 
two sisters sat on each side of the young man, and Doendjowens was 
glad, for she liked the two girls. All sat and looked at Ohohwa. 
Just as he looked at Doendjowens he had his mouth full of mush, 
and he saw the sisters there. Dropping his blanket in astonishment, 
he ran out. The people wondered what the matter was with him. 
Ohohwa ran home. There he saw, as he thought, the two girls in 
bed, so he sat down on the cotich and smoked a while. As he sat there, 
he was pinched several times by black ants. Turning to the bed he 
said, " AVait a while. I shall be there soon." At last, having finished 
smoking, he undressed; then he discovered that what he had taken 
for the girls were two logs. 

The daughters of the Awaeh Yegondji lived with Tagonsowes and 
were contented. He was a good hunter and they had plenty of 
everything to eat. 

After a time Doendjowens said to the wife, her daughter-in-law : 
" You must go home and take your mother some meat. She is suffer- 
ing for it, I know." So making ready a pack of meat, she caused it 
to become small. On reaching home she threw down the pack, and 
it became as large as ever. Before the sisters set out for home Doend- 
jowens said: "You must bring your mother here. I will give her 
one fire in the lodge as her own to use." After Awaeh Yegondji had 
eaten enough meat and was glad, her daughters brought her to 
Doendjowens's lodge, where she lived happy and contented. 

30. The Creation of Man 

(modern folk explanation) 

God at first created the sun and the moon. One day while walking 
about on the earth, becoming lonely, he said, " I will make a human 
being to keep me company." He held his way imtil he came to an 
uprooted hemlock, which had raised a great pile of earth with 
its upturned roots. Now, the roots of the hemlock are very numer- 
ous and slender and are covered with tufted rootlets for, as the tree 
grows on thin, pale, sandy soil, it needs many feeders to provide the 



COKTl 
HEWITT 



^] FICTION 169. 



necessary sustenance. God made a human being from the earth piled 
up among the roots of this tree. There were so many small fibers in 
this earth that the human being was seemingly hairy, and the soil 
was so poor and light-colored that he had a pale, sickly complexion. 
God breathed on him and he stood up and walked. Then God looked 
at him from behind the roots of the tree, but being not pleased with 
Iiis creation, he resolved that he would try again. 

God soon came to a walnut tree lying uprooted, which had pulled 
up with its roots a mound of black earth. From this earth God made 
another hunuin being. As he looked at him, he saw that, being black, 
he had too much color. So God was not satisfied with this piece of 
work, either. 

Going on farther, he came at last to an uprooted sugar maple. 
There the earth had a fine deep color; so out of this God made the 
third human being, whose body was smooth and firm and of a full 
rich tint. And God. pleased with his looks, said, "He will do; he 
looks like me." This last human being was an Indian; thus the 
Indian was the natixe human being. 

31. Ganiagwaiiiegowa 

Once a Seneca warrior was missing from his village. It was 
thought that his disappearance was due to witchcraft in the neigh- 
borhood. A party of skilled men was formed to find out the cause 
of his unexplained disappearance. They discovered great tracks 
near the village, which they followed to a cave in the woods. Mak- 
ing a large fire, they threw burning brands into the cave. In a short 
time a Ganiagwaihegowa came out. Thej' shot arrows at the beast, 
but none of these injured him, for he was full of evil orenda. But, 
while the bear was rushing around, he happened to raise his fore 
feet, and when the men shot him there, he died instantly, for it is said 
that the life of the Ganiagwaihegowa is in the soles of his fore feet, 
and that this bear is vulnerable in no other spot. 

The Ganiagwaihegowa used to eat common bears. No bear but 
this would eat a bear and no other kind of bear could be killed by 
being shot in the feet. 

32. The Man Who Became a Fish, and a Ganiagwaihe 

Two young warriors, who were cousins, started on a hunting expe- 
dition. Having arrived at their destination, they constructed a tem-- 
porary camp. 

Some time after camping they heard a very peculiar noise, and one 
of the cousins said, " I am going to see what is making that sound." 
On investigation he found that the sound came from a hollow tree, 
so he concluded naturally that it was caused by a bear. Going back 



170 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ANN. 32 

to the camp, he said to his companion, " There must be a bear in that 
Iiollow tree, although the noise which it makes is like that of a 
whirlwind." Then they both went to the tree to investigate further 
the cause of the peculiar sounds. One climbed the tree to take a look 
into the cavity. At first he could see nothing, but finally he saw at 
the bottom of the hollow cavity a spotted trout, which was leaping 
r.round swiftly in water collected there. Crawling into the hole, he 
captured the trout with his hand. On getting out, he threw the fish 
down to his cousin, who said: "This is a curious fish. Let us take 
it back to cariip." The other replied, " No ! Do not touch it ; it may 
be something that will bring us harm." But the other young man 
would not heed this advice. Taking the fish to camp, he cleaned, 
cooked, and ate it. When he had finished eating, he began to be very 
thirsty, and said to his companion, " Go und get me some water, 
cousin." The cousin brought him water, and the other drank and 
kept on drinking, seeming to be unable to get enough water. 

Then his cousin said to him, " Do you not think that the fish is 
making you ill?" The only reply was, "Oh I get me more water. 
Take my moccasins and get me plenty." He brought both moccasins 
full of water, which the thirsty man drank at once. At last the man 
who was not ill said, " I am tired of getting water for you; go to the 
spring and there you can drink all you want." Visiting the spring, 
he drank until he was tired of drinking; then he rested, and then he 
began to drink still more. 

The cousin, being busy around the camp, did not pay much atten- 
tion to the sick man, but after a while he went to the spring to look 
:ifter his cousin. Arriving there, he was frightened when he saw 
him, for his mouth had become like that of a fish. He asked the 
sick man how he felt. The other replied, " Oh, about as usual." 
Then came the query, "Does not your mouth feel queer? " Putting 
up his hand, the afflicted youth found that his mouth had grown 
large, but still kept on drinking. His companion hurried back to the 
camp in sorrow. The next time he went to the spring he found that 
his cousin had become a fish to the waist. Later, when he went again 
to the spring, his cousin had completely changed into a fish, and had 
gone into the spring. The following morning his cousin had become 
a great fish, dwelling far under the water, and the spring had grown 
into a large pond. 

The man sat down on the bank of the pond. Soon the great fish, 
raising its head out of the water, said : " My poor cousin, you see how 
I have turned into a fish. Go home and tell my parents what has 
become of me. When you need fish, come to this pond and you shall 
get all you want. This pond will always be full of fish." 

The man went home, where he told everj'one what had befallen 
his companion. The people then visited the pond, whereupon the 



CURII 
HEWITT 



■t] fiction 171 



great fish, lifting its head above the surface, said, " I shall not long 
be a fish, for I shall soon become a Ganiagwaihe." Then the people 
departed. 

In a short time the great fish became a Ganiagwaihe, having hair 
only on its back and feet. It remained around the lake, and of those 
who came there to fish it always killed and ate one. The people 
did not see this done, but always missed one of their number at that 
place. They did not like this at all, knowing that if the fish con- 
tinued to live there long it would kill many persons. The people 
therefore assembled in council to decide how to get rid of the great 
fish. At last two or three young men agreed to go there and try to 
kill the Ganiagwaihe; but they never returned. Men who went to 
find them recovered only their garments. 

Finally the cousin of the man who had become a Ganiagwaihe said :' 
" I shall now go. Perhaps I may be able to kill it." So they pre- 
pared for him parched corn, new moccasins, and a very good bow 
and twelve fine arrows. Having arrived at the pond, he camped 
there. That night he dreamed that his cousin, appearing to him in 
the form of a man, asked him: "Why did you come? I can kill 
you." The other answered, " I have come to kill you because yon 
are doing great harm to our people." Then Ganiagwaihe said, " I 
shall start at daylight, and you pursue me and see if you can 
catch me." 

Early the next morning the young man started in the direction 
the Ganiagwailie had indicated it would flee, and, running as swiftly 
as he could, he kept up the pursuit until midday, when he saw the 
tracks of the Ganiagwaihe. Thereupon he shouted in triumph: 
" Now I shall kill you. I shall soon overtake you now." Then he ran 
faster than he had been running, before. He ran until night, when 
he camped and built a fire. On looking at his bundle of corn flour 
he found that it had become ants; so he had nothing to eat. This 
mishap was caused by the Ganiagwaihe in order to deprive the man 
of food. It was now night. While the young man sat there think- 
ing about his situation he heard the approach of footsteps. He 
knew that it was his cousin, the Ganiagwaihe, and he was ready to 
take aim when the Ganiagwaihe called : " Stop, cousin ! Hold, until I 
can have a talk with you. If you will permit me to escape this time, I 
will start early in the morning and will leave this part of the coim- 
try forever, and I will injure your people no more," The youn"' 
man replied: "If you are in earnest in what you have just said, I 
will spare your life. You know that too many have already been 
killed by you, and you must stop killing our people at once." Thor- 
oughly frightened, the Ganiagwaihe agreed to this; and, having bade 
each other farewell, they parted. 



172 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32: 

The next morning the young man went home, where he told the 
people what had occurred, adding: " You can now fish in the pond as 
much as you desire; there is no one to give you trouble now." So it 
came to pass that the Ganiagwaihe kept his word to his cousin. 

33. A Dead Man Speaks to His Mother through the Fire 

An old woman and her son lived in a lodge in a certain village, 
and a brother and his sister in another. The old woman's son and 
the brother were of the same height and looked so much alike that 
they could scarcely be known from each other; they were great 
friends. 

The son often visited the brother and sister, and the brother found 
out that he thought of marrying his sister, who was yet very young, 
when she became old enough. The brother was not pleased with 
this prospect, so he made up his mind to kill his friend. The next 
time the latter came the brother killed him. Digging a deep hole 
under the fireplace and putting the body therein, he covered it with 
earth, and made a fire again over the spot. 

The mother waited, for her son, but he did not come home. Then 
she went to the other lodge and asked, " Where is my son ''. " " He 
left here to go home. It may be he is in the woods now. He said 
he was going to cut wood for arrows," answered the young man. 

When the woman went out the brother started oil and, cutting 
wood, quickly ran to her lodge, where he sat down and began to 
whittle arrows. Soon afterward she came in. Turning to her, he 
asked, "Where have you been, mother?" "Oh! I have been over 
at your friend's lodge." She failed to detect any difference between 
her son's voice and his. He said, " Well, mother, I am going over 
there a while." Putting up the arrows and running home, he said: 
" I am afraid, my sister, that there is impending danger and that we 
are going to die. Hurry to the spring and leave your pail there: 
then run around in every direction so as to make many trails and 
come back to the lodge." 

Going to the spring, the girl covered the ground with tracks and 
returned. The brother said, " I am now going to put you into the 
head of my arrow and send you off to a safe place." Taking hold of 
his sister's arm, he shook her until she became very small : then 
opening the arrowhead, he put her into the cavity, and after care- 
fully securing her there, said : " I am going to shoot jou toward the 
east. When the arrow strikes the ground you must jump out and 
run. I will soon overtake you." Standing by the fireplace, he shot 
the arrow out of the smoke-hole. In due time it came down on a 
stone far off in the east, when the arrow burst and the girl came out 
and ran off. 



^Sw'tt'] fiction 173 

After running around in circles and making many tracks around 
the lodge, the brother then went up the smoke-hole and stood on the 
roof. There was visible a long streak, or trail, which the arrow had 
made through the air. Eunning under this trail, he soon came to 
the spot where the arrow had struck the stone, and then he followed 
his sister's tracks. 

The old woman, the murdered man's mother, growing tired of wait- 
ing for her son, went over to the neighboring lodge to see what he 
was doing. She found the lodge empty. While sitting there bj' the 
fire, a voice spoke to her out of the flames, saying : " My friend has 
killed me. My friend has killed me." Thereupon she dug down 
under the hearth until she found her son's body. On reaching home 
she became a Ganiagwaihegowa. Then she followed the girl's tracks to 
the spring and back again to the lodge. She could find no one in the 
lodge. At last, looking up through the smoke-hole, she saw the trail 
of the arrow through the air. Hurrying out, she I'an toward the east. 

In the meantime the young man had overtaken his sister before she 
had gone far from the stone. After a while they heard the roaring 
of Ganiagwaihegowa. The girl trembled from great fear and grew 
weak. Her brother encouraged her. Stopping at night, they lay 
down and slept a little. The young man dreamed that a woman came 
to him, saying: " You think you and your sister are about to die, but 
you are not; here is a stone with which to defend yourself. Tomor- 
row about noon throw this piece of stone behind you, with the words, 
' Let there be a ridge of rocks across the world so high that nothing 
can climb over or pass it.' " 

In the morning he saw near the brush lodge the very stone he had 
seen in his dream. He took this piece of stone with him. Before 
midday they heard the roaring of Ganiagwaiiiegowa. At noon the 
young man threw the piece of rock behind him, and at that moment 
a ridge of rocks, rising so high that no living thing could climb over 
it, stretched itself across the world. 

On coming to the ridge the Ganiagwaihegowa saw that the tracks 
of the brother and sister went through the wall. She clambered up 
and then fell backward, howling terribly and crying, " I will over- 
take and eat them both." The young man's sister heard the words 
of the monster. The Ganiagwaihegowa ran toward the north, but 
could find no end to or opening in the wall of rocks. Then, coming 
back, the monster ran to the south, but could find no end there. Once 
more returning, she lay down near the tracks by the wall. It was 
now night. The Ganiagwaihegowa staid there until morning. On 
rising she was greatly surprised at finding nothing but a small stone 
in her way. Picking up the stone, she ground it to powder in her 
mouth, and then, roaring terribly, went on. 



174 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [kth. ann. 32 

The brother and sister had now gone far ahead. Toward noon 
they heard the roaring of the Ganiagwaihegowa and knew that she was 
drawing near. Taking a pigeon feather from his pouch, the young 
man threw it behind him, saying, " Let there be a tliick rampart of 
pigeon drOppings across the world, so high that nothing can pass 
over it or go through it." Then he hurried on with his sister. Soon 
tlie bear rushed up to the rampart in a fearful rage. She tried to 
climb the rampart, but could not do so. Then she tried to push 
through it, but went out of sight in the filth, nearly smothered, and 
had hard work to get out. Then the monster ran as fast as possible 
to hnd an opening, but without success; so, coming back at night, 
she lay down and slept until morning, when she found nothing in 
the way but a feather. This she bit and chewed to pieces. 

The brother and sister came to a great wood, all the trees of which 
were dried up and leafless. They found a lodge, which they entered. 
An old man. who was their uncle, was sitting inside. They told him 
their trouble ; whereupon he said, " I will do all I can for you, but 
you have another uncle living not far from here who can help you 
much better than I can." The old man was engaged in chipping 
flints. When he got a handful of flint chips he would fling them out 
at the trees; in this way he had killed the whole forest, for he had 
great powers of witchcraft. 

The brother and sister then went to the next lodge. The old uncle 
whom they had left had a heap of flint chips piled up near him. 
When he heard the Ganiagwaihegowa coming he struck it again and 
again with the chips. But the Ganiagwaihegowa did not turn away; 
coming up to the door, she asked the old man, " Have you seen a 
couple of persons pass here? " "No," said he, "I pay no attention to 
anyone who comes." Thereupon the monster crushed his he;ul. thus 
killing him. Then, discovering the tracks, the Ganiagwaihegowa 
said, "They have gone ahead; it is too bad that I have killed the old 
man." Roaring loudly, she rushed on. " I will overtake? you and eat 
you," she said. 

Soon the brother and sister came to the other uncle. After hear- 
ing of their troubles he said, " I will help j'ou all I can. but hurry 
on until you come to another uncle." Then he made a trap on the 
trail, and near that a second and a third. When the Ganiagwaihegowa 
came up, she rushed into the first trap, where she struggled a long 
time. Finally, breaking through this trap, the monster went on 
until she got into the second trap. After a longer struggle she l)roke 
through this, only to fall into the third trap, from which also she 
escaped at last. Coming soon to the third old man. the (ianiagwai- 
hegowa asked, " Have you seen a couple of persons pass this way? " 
" I have not," was the reply, whereupon the monster, seizing the old 
man, ground him to pieces with her teeth. Then, finding the tracks 



CUETI 
HEWITT 



^] FICTION 175 



of the young couple, she said: " Here are the tracks again ; they have 
passed on. I am sorry that I killed the old man." 

The brother and sister went to the third uncle. Rushing into his 
lodge, they found him making a net. His eyes were closed and filled 
with matter, but still he was at work. He had long upper eyelids 
hanging down on his cheeks. Raising the lids he cleaned his eyes; 
then with a piece of buckskin he tied the lids across his forehead. 
When the brother and sister rushed in, they said, " Uncle ! " but he 
did not hear them. They called again, " Uncle ! we are running away 
and want your assistance," but he did not stop, for he failed to hear 
them. Then the brother hit him on the head with a corn pounder, 
whereuiDon, raising his eyelids, he said, " I heard a voice." The 
brother and sister exclaimed, " We are closely pursued by a Ganiag- 
waihegowa." " I will help you as far as I can, but your grandfather, 
who lives near here, will do more than I. Run to him," was his 
answer. They hurried on. 

The Ganiagwaihegowa came nearer and nearer. The old man laid 
a long net across the trail, in which the Ganiagwaihegowa was 
caught. After struggling somewhat, she cleared herself. On com- 
ing to the old man's door she asked, " Have you seen two people pass 
this way ? " " No I " said he. The old man had told them to run to 
their grandfather, and they had done so. 

On reaching their grandfather they found S'hagodiyoweqgowa 
there, who had rattles. When the brother and sister came up S'hago- 
diyoweqgowa told them to go on and that they would come to a lodge, 
and that the people in that lodge were very strong in sorcery, having 
great orenda. 

The boy and his sister went on. The bear came to the S'hago- 
diyoweqgowa, whom she killed after a hard fight. The two fugitives 
reached the lodge, in front of which was an old Djogeon*' woman, 
who was very small. She told them to go in and sit down. She had 
three sons inside and also a great deal of bear's fat. The old woman 
told the boys to make a fire on the tracks of the brother and sister 
and to put over it to boil a kettle of bear's oil. They made two fires, 
putting two kettles over them, into which they poured the oil. Then 
the three boys got red willow, from which they soon made a number 
of arrows. 

The Djogeon woman stood near the first kettle when the Ganiagwai- 
liegowa came rusliing along asking, "Are the two persons here who 
made these tracks?" "Yes; they are in the lodge," was the reply. 
The Ganiagwaihegowa started to go around the kettles, but the 
woman said, " No. you must go the way they went, right through the 
fire, kettles and all; you must do the same as they did." On starting 
to do so the Ganiagwaihegowa got her paws in the boiling oil and 
overturned the first kettle. Badly burned, the monster fell back, 



176 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. 33 

growling. In making for tiie second Icettle, that too was upset in 
the same way and she was burned still more. Then the boys killed 
the Ganiagwaihegowa with their red-willow arrows, and, building a 
fire, they burned lier bones to powder, so that the monster could not 
come to life again, 

The old Djogeon told the brother and sister to stay two or tliree 
days at her lodge and rest; then her sons would take them home. 
She told her sons that this old Ganiagwaihegowa woman stole a 
young boy and girl from them and took them away, wishing to make 
the girl marry her son. The boys took the brother and sister two 
days' journey, which was as far as they could go. Then they directed 
the former fugitives so that they got home. 

It is said that the Ganiagwaihegowa woman's boy had a tuft of 
yellow hair hanging down his back, and that when he was killed, 
his companion, having cut oflf this tuft, fastened it to the top of his 
own head. When the Ganiagwaihegowa woman's boy went hunt- 
ing, he would send his arrows home and they would go into the lodge 
iust where they belonged ; but after the other man obtained the hair, 
his arrows would go home in the same way, for the orenda was in the 
tuft of yellow hair. 

34. Thk Potent Boy =» 

A man and his wife lived together in an ugly looking lodge in the 
woods. The}' had a son four or five years old. 

After a time the woman gave bii'th to another boy, not longer than 
one's hand, who was very bright and lively. Wrapping the little fel- 
low carefully, the father, thinking he could not live, placed him in a 
hollow tree outside the lodge. Then he burned the body of the 
mother, who had died when the baby came into the world. 

The man went hunting eveiy day as before. The older boy played 
around the lodge by himself and was lonely. After some time had 
elapsed he heard the baby in the hollow log crying, for he. too. was 
lonely and had nothing to eat. The elder boy found his little 
brother and, making soup of deer intestines, gave it to him to drink. 
He drank the soup with great relish and became much strength- 
ened. The brother gave him plenty of it. At last the little fellow 
came out of the log and the two boys played together. 

The elder brother made the little one a coat of fawn skin, which 
he put on him. This made the baby look like a chipmunk as he ran 
around. They went to the lodge and played there. Noticing a de- 
crease in the stock of provisions, the father asked the boy what he 
did with the deer intestines. " Oh," said the boy, " I ate a good deal 
of them." Then looking around the fire and seeing a small track 
and very short steps, the father said : " Here are the tracks of a boy. 
Wlio is it? " The boy told him how he had found his little brother in 
a hollow tree, and that he had given him soup and had made him a 



5;--S] FICTION 177 

fawn-skin coat, and that the,y had played together. " Go and bring 
him." said the father. " He would not come for anything, for he is 
very timid," was the answer. " Well, we will catch him. You ask 
him to go to hunt mice in an old stump there beyond the log. I will 
get him." Catching a great many mice, the man put them in his 
bosom, in his clothes, and all around his l)ody and, going beyond the 
log, turned himself into an old stump full of mice. 

Going to the hollow tree, the boy said. " Come, let us play catching 
mice." The little fellow came out and running to the stump rushed 
around it, catching many mice. The little boy, wild with excite- 
ment, laughed and shouted with joy, for it seemed that he had never 
known such fun. All of a sudden the stump turned into a man. who, 
catching him in his arms, ran home. The boy screamed and strug- 
gled, but it was of no use ; he could not get away, and he would not 
be pacified until his father put a small club into his hand, saying, 
" Now strike that tree." He struck a great hickory which stood near. 
The tree fell. Everything he struck was crushed or killed; he was 
delighted and cried no more. The little troy stayed now with his 
brother and played with him while their father went hunting. " You 
must not go to the north while I am away," said the father ; " bad, 
dangerous people live there." AVhen the father was gone the little 
boy said, " Oh, let us go north ; I should like to see what is there." 
Starting in that direction, the boys went on until they came to wooded, 
marshy ground. Then the little boy heard many people call out, 
" My father ! My father 1 " " Oh, these people want to hurt my 
father," said he. Making ready a pile of red-hot stones, he hurled 
them at these people and killed all of them. They were frogs and 
sang nohqica. When the boys came home their father was very angry 
and said, " You must not go again, and you must not go west; it is 
very dangerous there, too." 

When their father had gone hunting the next day the little boy 
said, " I should like to see what there is in the west ; let us go there." 
Traveling westward, .they went on until they came to a vei'v tall pine 
tree. In the top of the tree was a bed made of skins. " Oh ! " said 
the little boy, " that is a strange place for a bed. I should like to 
see it. I will climb "up and look at it." Up he went. He found in it 
two little naked children, a boy and a girl; they were frightened. 
On pinching the boy, the child called out : " Oh, father, father I some 
strange child has come, and he has frightened me nearly to death." 
Suddenly the voice of Thunder was heard in the far west. It came 
nearer and nearer, hurrving along until it reached the bed in the 
tree top. Raising his clul). the little boy struck Thunder, cru.shing his 
head so that he fell dead to the ground. Then, by pinching her, 
94615°— 18 12 



178 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ibth. ann. 32 

he made the little girl call : " Mother, Mother ! some strange bo_y has 
come and is playing with me." Instantly the mother Thunder's voice 
was heard in the west, and presently she stood b}' the nest. The boy 
struck her on the head with his club, and she. too, fell dead. Now, 
thought the boy: " This Thunder boy would make a splendid tobacco 
pouch for my father. I will take him home." So, striking him with 
his club, he threw him down, and the little girl also. When the boy 
with the club reached the ground, he said to his brother, " Now, let 
us go." On getting home, he said, " Oh, father ! I have brought 
you a splendid pouch." "What have you done?" said the father. 
When he saw the dead Thunder baby he said : " These Thunders have 
never done any harm. They bring rain and do us good, but now 
they will destroy us all in revenge for what you have done." " Oh ! 
they will not hurt us. I have killed that whole family." The father 
took the skin for a pouch. " Now, my boy," said the father, " you 
must never go north, to the country of the Stone Coats." The elder 
brother would not go, so the little one went off alone. About noon 
he heard the loud barking of Stone Coat's dog, which was as tall 
as a deer, so he knew the master was near. He jumped into the 
heart of a chestnut tree, where he found a hiding place. 

Presently Stone Coat came up, and, looking at the tree, said, " I 
think there is nothing here ; " but the dog barked and looked up, so 
that finally he struck the tree with his club, splitting it open. " What 
a strange little fellow you are," said Stone Coat, looking at the boy 
as he came out; " j^ou are not big enough to fill a hole in my tooth." 
" Oh ! I did not come to fill holes in your teeth. I came to go home 
with you and see how you look and how you live," said the boy. 
"All right. Come with me," said Stone Coat. Stone Coat was of 
enormous size. He carried in his belt two great bears, which to him 
were as two squirrels to an ordinary man. Every little while, looking 
down, he would say to the little fellow running by his side, " Oh ! 
you are such a funny little creature." 

Stone Coat's lodge was very large and long; The little boA' had 
never seen anything like it. Stone Coat skinned the two bears; he 
put one before his visitor and took one for himseljf. saying to the boy, 
"Now you eat this bear, or I will eat you and him together." "If 
you do not eat yours before I eat mine, may I kill you ? " asked the 
boy. " Oh. yes," said Stone Coat. The little boy cut off" mouthfuls, 
and cleaning them as fast as he could, he put them into his mouth. 
He kept running in and out, so as to hide the meat. In a short time 
all the flesh of his bear had disappeared. " You have not eaten 
yours yet; I am going to kill you," said the little fellow to the Stone 
Coat. " Wait until I show you how to slide down hill " — and Stone 
Coat took him to a long hillside, which was very slippery and which 
ended in a cave. Putting the little fellow in a wooden bowl, he sent 



^7JS] FICTION 179 

him down at a great rate. Presently he ran up again to the place 
where he started. "Where did you leave the bowl?" asked Stone 
Coat. " Oh ! I do not know ; it has gone down there I suppose," 
replied the little fellow. " Well, let us try to .see who can kick this 
log highest." said Stone Coat. " You try first." said the little one. 
The log was two feet in diameter and six feet long. Putting his 
foot under it, Stone Coat lifted the log twice his own length. Then 
the little boy, placing his foot under the log, sent it whistling 
through the air. It was gone a long time; then it came down on 
Stone Coat's head, crushing him to death. " Come here," said the 
little fellow to Stone Coat's dog. The dog came and the boy got on 
his back and rode home, saying, '• Now my father will have a splendid 
hunting dog." When the father saw the dog he cried out. '' Oh ! 
what have you done? Stone Coat will now kill us all." "I have 
killed Stone Coat. He will not trouble us any more," replied the 
Potent One. 

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

" Now," said the father, " you must never go to the east ; they play 
ball there; you must never go there." The next day the boy, starting 
for the east, traveled until he came to beautiful plains, a great level 
country, where the wolf and the bear clans were playing on one side 



180 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32 

against the eagle, the turtle, and the beaver clans on the other. The 
little boy took the side of the wolf and the bear : they said. " If you 
win, you will own all this country." They played, and he won for 
them. " Now,'" they said, " _you are the owner of all the country." 
On reaching home the little boy said to his father. " I have won all' 
the beautiful country of the east : you come and be the chief of it." 
His father consented, and going to the country of the east with the 
two Ijoys, there they lixed. That is the story- 

35. The Faithless Wife and the Thkee Old Men 

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

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

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



^"ew'i'^j] fiction 181 

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

The boy brought the water. Soon after this his wife came out in 
new garments, carrying her strap and hatchet. She walked away 
from the lodge in a bee line, her husband following cautiously. 
AValking down a little hill, .she went on until slie came to a dry black 
ash tree, from which the bark could be stripped easily. There she 
stood, looking up at it. Her husband drew as near as he could with- 
out being seen by her. After gazing up into the tree for a moment, 
she struck it with the back of her hatchet, making a beautiful sound. 
After waiting a while, she struck it a second time. Again the same 
musical sound was heard. The third time she struck it he heard a 
bird on the top branches. As she struck it the fourth time the bird 
flew down. As it alighted on the ground it became a handsome man. 
The husband saw how his wife and her lover dallied together. At 
that moment, drawing his bow, he shot an arrow. In the twinkling 
of an eye the lover, turning himself into a bird, flew upward and dis- 
appeared in the air. The woman sprang up, and seeing her husband, 
said, "It is you, is it? " " Yes," he replied, ''now I know why you 
abuse our boy." "Yes; I do abuse him, and I will abuse you, too," 
she declared. Seizing a club, she beat him until he was helpless; 
then, leaving him on the ground, slVe ran home, put her children out- 
side the cabin, and set fire to the hemlock boughs composing its roof. 
These blazed up and soon the lodge was in ashes. Then she said to 
her children, "You stay here: everything will be all right." Then, 
taking up a handful of ashes, she threw them into the aii', saying. 
"Let there be a snowstorm and let the. snow lie as deep as these trees 
are high." As the snow began to fall, she said to the boy, " Here is 
your dog; keep him with you. and take care of youi- sister." Then 
she started off. 

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

After a while the father, having recovered, dragged himself toward 
his home. When near, he saw there was no longer a lodge. He 
searched for his children and at last found and rescued them. Then 
he set about building a lodge of boughs. The boy told him what his 
mother had said and done, and he was very sad. When the lodge 
was finished", he said : " You must stay here and take care of your 



182 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ans. 32 

Jittle sister and your dog, ' Beautiful Ears.' '^ You must always give 
him plenty to eat, as much and as good food as you have j'ourself. 
When you go out you must always carry your sister on your back. 
Never put her down nor leave her for a moment, and when the dog 
shows himself uneasy, turn around and go home. Now I am going 
in pursuit of your mother." So saying, he started off. 

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

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

One day he climbed the high banks of a great lake. Mounting a 
rock, with the thought, " Now I will end my life," he leaped into the 
water. When he struck the surface he lost his senses. On coming to 
himself again he seemed to approach a beautiful country with the 
purpose to stay there, and he thought that he was very comfortable. 
13ut it turned out that a great fish had swallowed him when he had 
struck the water. 

After a few days the fish got into a small stream, on the banks 
of which two sisters had built a lodge; they had also made a dam 
to catch fish. One morning on going to the dam they were delighted 
to find a great fish the^'e. The first said, " Let us dress it right 



?^°/JiTi] FICTION 183 

f.way." "Wait," the other said, "until we get the water boiling to 
cooiv it. We must cut it up carefully. Such a fish must have much 
roe." 

When everything was ready they opened the fish carefully; in 
the place of roe they found a beautiful boy. For a moment they 
forgot the fish. They washed the boy and cared for him, and were 
rejoiced that such a gift had come to their door. They said : " We 
will take good care of him. Perhaps he will become a great hunter 
and get meat for us when we are old." The sisters and their son, 
as they called him, lived very happily together. He soon surprised 
them by killing large game and by becoming a great hunter. When 
they found, however, that while hunting he wandered oti a long 
distance from home, they were alarmed and cautioned him to keep 
near the lodge and, above all, not to go near the setting sun. Finally 
he killed a great deer. While the sisters were pleased with his 
]iower and skill, they were afraid something might happen to him, 
^ince there were so many wicked people about. The fear worried 
them greatly. They kept warning him of danger, saying that he 
must never on any account go toward the setting sun.^'' 

After a time the youth killed anj' kind of game he wished. One 
day he said to himself: "I wonder what there is near the setting 
sun? I will go to see for myself." He had not gone far before he 
came to a clearing, in which he saw a cabin that seemed to be empty. 
Everything was quiet around it. Creeping up cautiously, he peeped 
in ; an old man was sitting there with his head bent upon his breast. 
The latter instantly called out, "Well, nephew, ^^ have you come?" 
Knowing that he was discovered (by sorcery), the boy answered: 
"Yes; I have come. I thought I would see what you are doing." 
" Well, come in and wait a moment. I will get my head up," the 
old man replied. Taking up a mallet and a large wooden pLn that 
lay at his side, he drove the pin down his spinal column. Up came 
his head, whereupon he said, " I have a rule that when one of my 
nephews comes I play a game with him, and we bet." " What do 
you bet?" asked the boy. "I bet my head against his," came the 
reply. "All right," said the boy. The old man dusted off the fire- 
place and made it smooth; then he shook the bowl and plum pits. 
The agreement was that the first who turned the plum pits all of 
one color was to be the winner. The old man said, " You must throw 
first." " No," said the boy, " you proposed the game ; now you 
must play first." At last the old man agreed to this. As he shook 
the bowl the six plum pits flew out of the smoke hole. When they 
got outside they turned into birds, which flew off out of hearing. 
By and by the boy heard them again ; down into the bowl they rolled 
as plum pits. Bending over, the old man stirred and stirred 
them, repeating, " Let them be white ; let them be white ! " But he 



184 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. an.n. 32 

could not get them all of one color. At last he ceased his effoi'ts. 
Then the boy threw his own dice, and, like the others, they went out 
of the smoke hole and. turning uito birds, flew off. Thei-eupon the 
old man began to stir the dish, saying, " I wish this. I wish that." 
Down came the birds as plum pits. Then both stirred them, repeat- 
ing, "I wish this, I wi.sh that,'' and they all turned to one color. 
When the old man saw that he had lost the game he wished to play 
once more. "Oh, no," said the boy; "that is not the rule." "Well, 
let me smoke once more," begged the old man. " No," the boy said, 
and, catching up a tomahawk, he cut off the old man's forfeited head. 
Afterward he set the cabin afire. Later he went home, but said noth- 
ing about his adventure. 

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

A third time the _youth went toward the setting sun, farther tlian 
before. Passing the first and second clearings, he came to a third, 
in which he saw a great pond covered with ice; near it was a cabin. 
As the young man peeped in, an old man sitting there called out : 
" Well, nephew, I knew you would come. I am glad to see you." 
" Yes, I thought I would look in and see you. Now I must go," 



^hTJS] fiction 185 

added the youth. " Oli, no I I h;i\e a rule that when one of my 
nephews comes I play a game. I run a race on the ice, and who- 
ever gets beaten to the end loses his head. No matter how he gets 
there; only let him get there first, he ^^■ins."' Just as he was ready 
to start, the young man, taking a ball off an oak tree, said, "Let 
there come a high wind!" He got into the ball (which grows on 
the oak tree at a certain time of the j'ear) and in a moment he was 
over the ice. The old man was scarcely halfway across. The young 
man then pulled out of his pouch a white flint. As he threw it 
toward the middle of the pond, he said, " Let this stone melt the 
ice and boil the water." In an instant the old man was sinking 
in boiling water and cried for mercy, but the young man said, " No ! " 
As the water boiled it melted all the ice; thereupon then the water 
disappeared, dry land appeared, and the old man was left in the 
middle of it, a great stone monument. After setting fire to the 
cabin the young man went home. He had never forgotten his father 
and sister, and he knew where they were. 

One day a runner came to the lodge of the two sisters, announcing, 
" I have been sent by the chief to give notice of the marriage of a 
certain woman. The chief wishes all to come." Knowing that the 
boy had orenda (magic powers), the sisters were careful of him. 
When he said, " I want to go to the gathering," they raised many 
objections, saying, " Bad people will be there ; all sorts of games 
will be played." They were afraid to let him go. He replied: 
" You were afraid to have me go toward the setting sun. I have 
been there. I have destroyed the dice man,^* the ball man, and the 
ice-pond man." The sisters were greatly astonished. The youth 
added, " Now. I am going to the gathering. My mother, father, 
sister, and dog are there." Yielding at last, they told him how 
to find his grandmother,, and said that she would tell him what 
to do. 

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

At last he reached the place where his grandmother lived. She 
was very poor. He said, " Grandmother, I have come." " Poor 
grandchild, I am sorry. 1 have so little to give. I am alone and 
poor," nnirmiu-ed the grandmother. "Oh! do not mind; we shall 



186 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ANN..32 

be all right," said he, bringing in game until the old woman was so 
glad that she was almost crying with joy. She hurried around like a 
young girl to prepare food. Then he began to question her. She 
told him: "There is a great gathering at the Long Lodge. The 
chief's daughter is to be married. She has been married before, but 
she nearly destroyed her husband, her daughter, and their dog. She 
had a son, but nobody knows where he is. Now she is going to tor- 
ture her husband to death. He is hung up at one end of the Long 
Lodge, and everyone can strike him with a burning brand ; his tears 
become wampum beads. Her daughter is hanging on a peg over the 
fire, slowly roasting. The dog is at one end of the fire and everyone 
who passes gives him a kick. He has consumption and his hair is all 
singed off." 

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



CDRTI 
HEWITT 



ra' ] FICTION 187 



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

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

Husband 

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

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

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

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

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



188 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth. iNN.32 

her head. The arrow pierced the bag and the oil flowing out fell 
upon the woman's head and face. Thi.s made her very angry, but she 
did not speak. 

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

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

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

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



Se^'S], fiction 189 

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

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

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

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

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

'After that the nephew set out to find where his uncle was, going 
northward. He went beyond the Long Lodge, traveling as fast as 
he could all day and night and carrying the mole with him. The 
next morning at daybreak the witch again came after him in a 
terrible tempest. Once more getting into.the mole, he went into the 
ground, where she could not find him, so she went home to the Long 
L(5dge. . He traveled the second day as fast as he could. On the 
third morning the woman came still again in a roaring teny^cst. 
Finding that the nephew was in the mole, she made once more a 
whirlwind, which scooped up the earth, leaving a great hole, and 
carried him in the dirt far up into the clouds. The mole falling to 
the earth, the boy was killed. The witch went home satisfied. The 
mole, by again working over the dead nephew, brought him back to 
life. Whereupon the latter, putting the mole into his belt, i-an on 
as fast as he could all the third day. Tluit night he spent deep 
down in the great rocks of a mountain. 



190 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth.4XS.32 

On the fourth morning at daybreak the woman came in a tempest, 
as before, but could not find the nephew. The .?ame day he traveled 
imtil he came upon a lodge in an opening, like th.^ other Long Lodge, 
which was supplied with e\erything; there, under the roots of a 
great elm tree near the ■ lodge he found his uncle. The tree was 
standing on his breast, and his feet were sticking out at one side and 
his head at the other. He wab reduced to skin and bones. He begged 
for a smoke, exclaiming, " Oh, my nephew ! if only I could have a 
smoke." " Poor uncle 1 I will get you a smoke," said the nephew, 
and pushing the tree down he gave him a smoke. After smoking, the 
uncle arose, well. He and (he nephew then went into the lodge, 
where they remained togeth-T two or three days. 

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

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



"h?Jx'?t] fiction 191 • 

always keep apart, so that the force that is in these powders can not 
unite." 

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

37. A Raccoon Story 

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

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

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

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

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



192 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 3: 

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

The young man said to the rock, " Stand back a little, so that I 
can string my bow." The rock stood back. Stringing his bow and 
saying, " Now boast again ! " he shot the fisherman. The young man 
toon heard a loud noise, and looking in the direction from which it 
came, he saw an enormous Itat pass a little to one side of him. Taking 
from his pouch a hemlock leaf, and dropping it over the rocks, he 
began to sing, "A tree must grow from th>3 hemlock leaf." Soon a 
tree came in sight. Then he talked to the tree, saying. " Come near to 
me and have many limbs." As the tree came to a level with the place 
on the rocks where the young man was sitting, it stopped growing. 
I^e had .seen along the narrow shelf on the rocke many other men. 
He called to the nearest one, asking him to tell all to come, so they 
could escApe. Slowlj' creeping up. one after another, they went down 
the hemlock tree. 

When all had reached the ground, the young man. taking a straw- 
berry' leaf out of his pocket :ind laying it on the ground, said, " (irow 
and bear berries." Then he began singing, "Ripen berries, ripen 
berries." The ^■ines grew, and were filled with berries, which ri]>ene(l 
in a short time."' When they had all eaten as many berries as they 
wanted the young man picked off a leaf and put it into his pouch, 
whereupon all the vines and berries disappeared. 

Then he said. "Let us go to our wife" (meaning the woman). 
After traveling some distance the young man killed an elk. Cutting 
into strings the hide they miide a " papoose board," but big enouga 
for an adult; then they stai'ted on. Soon they came near a lodge, 
where they saw a woman pounding corn. AVhen she noticed them 
coming she began to .scold and, holding up the corn pounder, was 
going to fight witli them. When the young man said, however, " Let 
the corn pounder stop right there," it stopped in the air, half raised. 



CD 

HE 



Ztt] fiction 193 



Seizing the woman, they strapped her to the board, saying, " You 
must be very cold." Then they set the board up in front of the fire 
in order to broil her slowly. Just at this time the young man's wife 
came. Finding that they were roasting the woman, she was angry 
and, freeing her, said, " You are now liberated and I shall go home." 
Making her way to the lake, she called on the bloodsuckers to stretch 
across it so that she could walk over on them. Each man went to his 
own lodge. When the young man came home his wife was there. 

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

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

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

After a time one dog came back to the man, saying: " My brother, 
I believe that we are going to die to-night; we have seen a creature 
such as we have never beheld before. We think that it will come 
down from the tree to attack us. I will go and watch it; but first 
you must mark me with coal from the end of my mouth to my ear." 
The man did as the dog wished. Then the dog said, " Now, I will 
go to the tree and my brother can come to be marked by you as T 
am marked." Off he ran. The other dog soon came and the man 
marked him in the same way. Taking a torch, the man went to the 
tree. There on the broken top he saw a terrible creatui-e; its head 
and part of its body were protruding out of the hollow in the trunk; 
it had very long teeth, enormous eyeSj and long claws. The man 
had never before seen anything so dreadful. He went back to his 
camp. One of the dogs followed him, saying: "We two shall be 
destroyed, but we will do what we can to save you. You must hurry 
back to the village. Do not take a torch or a bow with you ; it will 
only be in your way. Put on a pair of new moccasins, and carry 
■also a second pair. I will lick the soles of your feet to give you 
speed." The dog licked the soles of his feet; then the man, putting 
on the new moccasins, started toward home. 
94615°— 18 13 



194 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [BXH. ass. 32 

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

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

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

Now, the dog came again to encourage the man with these words: 
" Do your best ; you are near home, and perhaps you will escape. I 
will come once more. Then I will leap upon and draw the monster 
down and fight it." The man heard the dog when the latter got back, 
and knew the monster was drawing near by the sound of the animal's 
barking. Then the man ran on as fast as possible. The dog ceased 
barking and coming again said : " This is the last time I shall see you ; 



^ZVt^t] fiction 195 

I shall be destroyed now. If the people hear your cries and come to 
meet you, you will escape; if not, you will surely be killed." 

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

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

39. The Three Young Women, Daughters of Awaeh Yegendji ok 

Mother Swan 

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

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

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



196 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

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

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

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

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



^"/w^'^] FICTION . 197 

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

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

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

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

40. HiNON AND THE SeNECA WaERIORS 
(a tale of the WAKS of the SENECA AND THE CHEROKEE) 

Once a war party of Seneca while on the warpath against the 
Cherokee became very hungry. Seeing a bear, they chased it into its 
den, one of the party following it. When he had gone some dis- 
tance into the den he could no longer see the bear, but he saw instead 
a fire burning briskly and three men sitting around it. The eldest 
asked the Seneca warrior why he had tried to shoot one of his men 



198 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

whom he had sent to entice him into the den. He continued, " I 
want to send word to the eldest man at your camp to tell him that 
his friend is here and wants some tobacco, and that tomorrow as 
many of his warriors as wish may come to see me here." So the 
warrior went back to the camp of his comrades and reported what 
he had heard. 

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

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

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

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

Then a fourth warrior asked the old man to transform him like- 
wise, but the old man refused, saying: " I have now done enough. I 
will tell you why I have taken the trouble to do this to four of your 
people. There is a large opening extending from one end of the 
world to the other. In this opening is a great rock, and in this rock 
is a man jjossessed of enormous horns. We have tried to kill him, 



H^EwS] FICTION 199 

but can not do so. Now, I want two of you to try to crush this rock 
and so kill him; but first you must go out and try your strength in 
orenda " (magic power). So, going out, they shot at a rock, which 
crumbled to pieces when they hit it. Then they shot at an enormous 
tree; this, too, they brought down when they hit it, leaving nothing 
but a stump. " Now," said the old man, " you may go to the open- 
ing and see what you can do with that enchanted rock. Your com- 
panions may remain here; they will not die, for we never die here. 
I always help my grandchildren. I cover your trail whenever you 
need to conceal it. It is I who cause it to rain." 

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

41. HODADENON AND YeNTENt'hWUS '" 

There was a little boy, Hodadenon, who lived with his elder sister, 
Yenyent'hwus, in a bark lodge. 

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

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

Uncovering a place under her couch, the sister took out a very small 
pot and a little fragment of a chestnut. Putting the least bit of 
meal scraped from the chestnut into the pot with water, she boiled it. 
While doing this she stirred the meal and tapped the pot, which in- 
creased in size until it became as large as any pot. When the mush 
was cooked the sister took it off the fire and put it all into a 



200 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [BTH. ann. 32 

bowl, saying to Hodadenon, " Go up the ladder and feed your 
brother." Climbing the ladder, he found a man lying in the upper 
room or attic. The little fellow said, " I have brought you mush, my 
brother." The brother, whose name was Hadjisgwas,^' took two or 
three mouthfuls of the mush and it was all eaten. Then, after ex- 
haling his breath two or three times and rubbing his arms and legs, 
he began to sing. 

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

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

Hadjisgwas sent out such a puff of smoke that the little boy had 
to hurry down the ladder to escape it. He had not' been down long 
before his sister came in. He said to her, " Oh, my sister, I have made 
our brother some pudding." "How did you make it?" she asked. 
" I cut up all the chestnut and boiled it," he replied. " Oh, now he 
will die on your account," she said. "After he ate the mush," said 
Hodadenon, " I gave him a smoke." " How did you do that ? " asked 



SrwS] FICTION 201 

Yenyent'hwus. "I shaved up the piece of tobacco, put it into the 
pipe, and gave it to him," said he. " Now we shall surely lose our 
l)rother on your account," said Yenyent'liAvus ; " you have done great 
mischief." " Well, my sister, where are the chestnuts ? I will go and 
get more of them." 

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

The next day when Yenyent'hwus went to plant she fastened the 
door, shutting in Hodadefion. While she was gone, hearing some 
living thing outside, he tried to get out to shoot it. Then he heard 
a noise on the lodge roof and, looking up, he saw some kind of 
creature — he did not know what — with its eyes fixed on him. Then 
he said, " You are Odyaqgweonion,"' anyhow," thinking to himself, 
"• I will shoot at the game." Drawing his bow, he said to the arrow, 
" I wish you to go straight to the game." The arrow struck the 
creature, killing it; thereupon he rushed to bring it in. Not being 
able to open the door, he dug a hole in the earth close to the door, 
through which he got out. Bringing in the game, he put it into the 
corn mortar and covered it. When Yenyent'hwus, his sister, came, he 
said, " My sister, I have killed game." " Well, where is it 'i " she 
asked. " Here in the corn mortar," answered Hodadeiion. Eunning 
thither, he brought the game to his sister. " Oh ! that is a chickadee," 
said she. Having dressed and cooked the bird, Yenyent'hwus began 
to eat it. Hodadefion stood there watching her eat, and asked, " Is 
it good? " " Yes," she replied. After looking on a while longer, he 
r.sked, "Are you not going to give me some?" "No," she replied, 
•' this is the first game you have killed, and you must not eat of it; it 
would not be right." ^* 



202 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. 32 

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

Yenyent'hwus then went to her work in the field. Soon the bo}', 
seeing a bird on a tree, said, " You must be the bird they call 
Gwenhdaen nisedosyoden," "" whereupon he killed it with his arrow. 
Carrying in the game, he put it into the corn mortar. AVhen his 
sister came he said, " I have some game, sister," showing her the 
bird. " Oh ! " said she, " that is the Gwenhdaen nisedosyoden." 
She dressed, cooked, and ate the bird, but did not give him a bite 

The next morning, getting up early and making a fire, he called 
his sister to get breakfast, so that he might go hunting in good time. 
After breakfast he said, " My sister, put on my belt and get me 
ready." She girded him and made him ready for the day. Both 
went out, she to her planting and he to his hunting. After he had 
been out a while, seeing a bird, he said, "• I do not know you, but I 
think you are Djeqgowa.""^ He hit the bird with his arrow, killing 
it, and brought it home; putting it into the corn mortar, he covered 
it. When his sister came he said, " My sister, I have game ; here it 
is." " Thank you," said she; " that is what we call a pigeon." After 
dressing the bird she cut it into two parts, one of which she put 
away and the other cut into pieces, saying that she was going to 
make dumplings. She pounded corn meal and, mixing the meat 
with it, made dumplings, which both of them ate. 

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

He went farther than before, and seeing a new kind of bird 
running along, said, " You look pretty well ; j^ou must be what they 
call Dyoyoqgwahacyon." "^ He drew his bow and hit the bird with 
his arrow. It ran a while, and he called, " Hold on; do not break my 
best arrow." The bird stojDped and died. 

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

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

The next morning Hodadeiion was up early. His sister put on his 
belt for him, and botli went out. She told him to stay near the lodge. 
Then she went to plant and he to hunt. He went farther than he 
had gone the day before. He saw a creature coming toward him; 
after watching it, he said, " I think it is you they call Shanoons- 
dehon." "^ Looking again, he said, " I think you are the one they call 



XwIJi] FICTION 203 

Shadjinoqgyot." ^* The third time he said, " I think it is you they call 
Osoont." "^ At that moment the creature, seeing him, turned to run, 
but on Hodadeiion calling out, " Stop ! " it stopped right there. 
Drawing his bov/, he shot it. As the animal struggled he called, 
"Look out! do '^'^t. break my best arrow." Whereupon it stopped 
and died. Hodadeiion tried to carry the carcass, but could not lift it. 
Bunning to the place where his sister was planting, he said, "My 
sister, I have shot big game. I can not carry it." She went with 
him to the game; when she snw it, she said, "That is what we call 
Osoont" (i. e., a turkey). Sh" carried home the turkey, and after 
dressing it put half away and cooked the other half. 

The next morning Yenyent'hwus put the belt on Hodadenon. She 
warned him against going north, or far from the lodge. On going a 
few steps farther than the day before he found tracks, all pointing 
in the same direction ; thereupon he said : " My sister never told me 
that people lived here and that there was a path." Putting his feet 
in the tracks, he found they fitted exactly. Just before him in 
the trail he saw a game animal coming. He said to himself : " This 
must be what they call Spotted Face, what they call Dyoyoqgwa- 
hacyon, or Striped Tail." Drawing his bow, he pierced the creature 
with an arrow. As it went staggering along he called out: "Here! 
do not break my arrow; that is my best arrow." Running up to it, 
he pulled out the arrow. Finding he was not able to carry the game 
animal, he had to go for his sister. When she came she said, " That 
is called Djoeaga"'"' After thanking her brother, she seized the 
raccoon by one leg and, throwing it over her shoulder, went toward 
home. She told her brother that she was going lo make corn bread 
to eat with this kind of meat. When they reached home they cooked 
part of the raccoon and made corn bread. While the meat was cook- 
ing she skimmed off the oil, telling her brother that she had wanted oil 
for a long time. This oil she rubbed into her hair. 

The brother and sister had more meat from this Djoeaga than they 
could eat, and some was left. The next morning, after breakfast, 
they went out, the sister to plant and the brother to hunt. At parting 
she warned him, as she had done every day before. Hodadeiion went 
this time a few steps farther than before. When he saw game coming 
toward him, he said : "•You are the one they call Hustoyowanen." ''" 
Then, looking again, he said : " I think that you are the one they 
call Dodjenendogeni," "^ and as he looked, the animal, seeing him, 
turned to run. He called out to it : " Stop ! " As it did so, drawing 
his bow, Hodadeiion pierced it with an arrow. The animal ran off 
out of sight, whereupon Hodadeiion screamed : " Stop ! Stop ! You 
are breaking my arrow ! " But the game animal was not to be seen. 
Still the boy cried : " Stop ! Stop ! That is my best arrow. Stop ! " 
Then he thought : " I have lost my arrow, but I will follow a little 



204 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. «2 

farther. If I can not catch the game animal, I shall go for my sister, 
who will find it." 

Going on a short distance, he found the game animal lying dead. 
He ran for his sister, who came, and thanking him, said: "This 
time you have brought me Onogengowa." *" She brought a strap 
braided out of hemp bark, so as to carry the meat home on her 
shoulders. Having skinned and cut up the deer, she divided it into 
pieces. Hodadenon wanted to carry a part, so his sister, cutting 
off the feet, tied them together, and gave them to him. She carried 
half the meat home at one time and then went back for the other 
half. 

The next day Hodadefion went a little farther than before. On 
seeing a game animal walking along, he said to it, " You must be 
what they call Dasidowanes." '° The game animal, seeing him, 
jumped, but he said, " Keep still." It stopped, whereupon, drawing 
his bow, he shot an arrow into the animal, which rushed through the 
woods and out of sight. Hodadenon cried, " Look out ! that is my best 
arrow." Following, he found the animal dead, with the arrow point 
sticking out of its body. He said to it, " You are Dasidowanes " ; 
then he ran for his sister. When she came, she said, " This is 
Ganiagwaihe." " She skinned the bear and cut off the feet. She gave 
her brother the fore feet to carry, while she lierself took half the meat 
home, and then went for the rest. They had a good supper that 
night, and the sister got more hair oil. 

The next day they went out again, as usual, Hodadenon to hunt 
and Yenyent'hwus to plant. The brother went to the spot where he 
had killed the bear, but could see no game. Then he traveled in a 
circle, but could see nothing. As he looked toward the north it 
seemed very pleasant. There was an opening, or clearing, in front 
of him, and he thought he would go into it, hoping that he would 
find game there. In the middle of the clearing was a lodge. On 
peeping through a crack in the wall he saw a crowd of naked men 
of the Odjineowa ^^ people, dancing. Very soon one of these men said, 
" Some one is looking at us," and then another said, " Let us kill 
him." 

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



CURT! 
HEWITT 



ri] FICTION 205 



Then, running to the lodge, he looked in again. The Odjineowa 
men, seeing him, said, "Let us be sure to kill him this time," and 
rushed out with their clubs. The boy escape<l, however, to the woods, 
and when the naked men came to the edge of the woods the sticks 
of Hodadeiion became people and fought, killing all the men. There- 
upon Hodadenon came, and after dragging the men one after another 
into their lodge, he set fire to it, burning them all up. 

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

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

Hodadenon thought, " Now, I will go farther." He had not 
traveled far through the woods before he came to another clearing, 
in which there was a lodge. Peeping through a crack, he saw within 
an old man with both eyes closed. All at once he called, " Come in, 
nephew ! come in ! " "WHien the boy went in the old man said. " I 
always play a game of dice with people who come here. If I win, 
T shall have your head; if you win, you shall have mine." The old 
man brought out six night owls' eyes {MM ogas^hoon) for dice, say- 



206 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.32 

ing, "If they all turn up the same color, the throw will count five; 
if not, it will count one." The uncle wanted the boy to play first, 
but he refused; the uncle insisted, but the boy would not. At last 
the old man agreed. Putting the six eyes into a bowl of wood, he 
shook it, throwing them up; they went out through the smoke-hole 
into the air. When they returned, they counted but one. " Now," 
said the nephew, " take your dice out of the bowl. I have dice of 
my own." The uncle did not wish to take out his dice, Ijut the boy 
insisted, so he had to do so. Then Hodadefion put in his dice, which 
were woodcocks' eyes, and threw them up. They went high in the 
air and came down, calling out, " I think she is not setting, 
Nondjoqgwen." " The boy said, " Let them all come one color," but 
the uncle said, " No, let them come in different colors." All came 
alike in color, so the old man lost. " Now, nephew," said he, " let 
me have one smoke more." " Oh, no ! " said Hodadefion, " I can not 
do that." Thereupon he cut off the old man's head and went on 
farther. 

" This is good sport," said Hodadefion, " I shall find another uncle, 
perhaps." He traveled through the woods for a while until he 
came to a third opening. Far ahead in the center of it was a great 
rock, on which sat a Dagwanoenyent. Near the opposite side of 
the opening was a lodge. As Hodadefion went up to the rock, the 
Dagwanoenj'ent called out, " Oh ! you are my nephew. I have been 
wishing for a long time that you would come to see me; now we 
will play hide and seek." Hodadefion was to hide first. Dagwa- 
noenyent faced the other way, and at that moment Hodadefion. 
making himself into a flea {dewaqsentwus) , jumped into the long 
bushy hair of Dagwanoenyent, where he hid. Then he called out, 
" You can not find me, uncle ; you can not find me." Dagwanoenyent 
looked all around^ — up in the air, in the trees, everywhere. At last, 
noticing a weed with a knot on its stem, he said, " Nephew, you 
are in that knot ; " but the nephew was not there. Looking around 
a second time, he saw a knot on one of the trees. " You are in the 
knot on that tree, nephew." " I am not," answered Hodadefion. 
Wien Dagwanoenyent saw that he had not found the boy he was 
terribly frightened. " There is danger," said he, flying far away 
from the rock. Eising above the clouds, he sat on them. Then 
Hodadefion called out from the long shaggy hair, " You can not 
see me, uncle ; you can not see me." " Oh ! " said the uncle to him- 
self, " I have come just by accident on the place where he is." Then, 
flying off to an island in the sea, the old man stood there. Again 
Hodadefion called out, " You can not see me, uncle ; you can not 
see me." He could not indeed see the boy, so he flew back to his 
place in the opening in the forest. Once more Hodadefion cried, 
" You can not see me, uncle." Dagwanoenyent replied : " I have 



"h'/wS] fiction 207 

lost the game, but I did not bet my head. Now, you may ha\-e 
control of these three witches," pointing to three women who were 
poimding corn outside the lodge at the edge of the clearing. The 
women, who were man-eaters, were very angry when they heard 
the words of Dagwanoenyent, their servant, and ran to strike him 
with their clubs. They had the clubs raised to give the blow, when 
Hodadenon willed their death, and they dropped lifeless. The boy 
and his uncle cut their heads off and burned their lodge. Now 
Dagwanoenyent and Hodadenon became friends, and the uncle said, 
" Nephew, if ever you get into trouble, all you have to do is to think 
of me, and I will come and help you." 

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

That night he said to his sister, " Make me parched corn meal 
and two dumplings with bear's fat in them. Tomorrow I am going 
to get the chestnuts." She did all that he wished. Setting out the 
next morning, he kept on his way until he came to the river over 
which the tree was thrown. When halfway across on the tree, two 
rattlesnakes began to rattle. Thereupon, going back, he caught two 
Tsohoqgwais.'* Returning by way of the tree again, when he came 
to the snakes, he gave a chipmunk to each, saying, " You are free 
now. I shall kill you imless you leave this place." The snakes ran 
away. 

Hodadeiion went on until he came to the opening in the forest, at 
the farther end of which was the mountain wall. When he came to 
the wall he found the jDass. As he was coming out on the other side 
he heard all at once ho" ho'^ ho'^ ho"^, and saw the two S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa, half as tall as the highest tree. " Keep still ! Keep still ! " 
said Hodadeiion : " I have brought you dumplings. You like dump- 
lings." So saying, he gave each one. Then he said : " You are free 
now. You need not guard this place any longer." Thereupon they 
ran away. 

Hodadeiion went on until he saw two Djoasha.'^ Then, going into 
the woods, he dug up wild beans, which he brought as near as he 
could to the herons, calling out, '■^ Pur! Pur! Stop! Stop! Here 
are beans for you to eat." So saying, he set them free, with the 
words, " Go from here and be free," and they left the place. 



208 . SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann.32 

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

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

One day when Hodadeiion was playing near the lodge, he cried 
out suddenly and fell to the ground screaming. His sister ran to him, 
asking, " AVhat is the matter? Where are you hurt? " " Nowhere," 
he answered. " Why do you cry then ? " she asked. " I heard my 
brother Hotgoendaqsais '^ sing a song and call on my name ; he says I 
am his brother," said he. " That is true," said Yenyent'hwus ; " and he 
is in the east, at the place where the sun comes up. He is tied to a 
stake there and people burn him with firebrands and torment him to 
make him cry, for his tears are wampum, and when they fall the peo- 
ple run to pick them up." " Well, where does tobacco grow? " asked 
Hodadenon. " On the other side of the world, where Deagahgweoses '^ 
lives. This man stole our tobacco from us and carried it off. No one 
can conquer him, for he is a great wizard, i. e., Hotgongowa." 

That night Hodadenon told his sister to pound parched corn and 
make meal for him. In the morning he got ready for the road. 
Yenyent'hwus put tlie food in a bundle on her brother's back. It was 



^«„^S] FICTION 209 

so heavy that at noon he had only reached the edge of the clearing 
where their lodge was. Sitting down there, he ate his lunch. Yen- 
yent'hwus, who was watching him all the time, said, " Poor brother, 
I think he will come back soon." She looked again, but he was gone. 

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

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

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

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

During that day Hodadeiion came to a great lake on the farther 
side of which was a village. He searched until he found an oak 
puflFball, which he placed at the water's edge. Entering this ball, he 
caused the wind to blow it across the lake to the village on the opposite 
shore. Hodadenon went through this village without stopping until 
he came to the last lodge on the side farthest from the lake shore, in 
which lived an old widow and her grandson. Addressing the grand- 
94615°— 18 14 



210 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. asn. 32 

son, Hodadenon said, " Well, little boy, may I remain with you 
to-night? " The boy answered, " I do not Imow. I will speak to my 
grandmother." Running into the lodge, the boy told his grand- 
mother what the strange man had asked him. The grandmother, 
whose name was Yeqsinye,'* directed the little boy to tell the visitor 
how poor and needy they themselves were. " Tell him that I have 
nothing to give him to eat except scraps of food, for we are, indeed, 
unfortunate people." Going to Hodadenon, the little grandson re- 
peated to him what his grandmother had said. " Oh ! " replied 
Hodadeiion, " all I want is a place in which to stay. I do not want 
food." " Well," said the little boy, " I will tell my grandmother 
what you have just told me." Answering the little boy further, the 
old woman said, " Let him do as he pleases ; he knows, now, our 
circumstances and what he must endure while with us." Having 
received this message from the little boy, Hodadenon decided to 
stay there. 

The next morning Hodadeiion said to the old woman's grandson, 
"Let us go to hunt game." Agreeing to the proposition, the little 
boy made suitable preparations to accompany Hodadenon. After 
going a long distance into the woods they found a large hollow tree 
frequented by a bear. Hodadenon tapped the tree, sa3'ing to the occu- 
pant, "Thou who dwellest in this tree, come forth." At once the 
bear came out, whereupon Hodadenon shot it with an arrow, and the 
bear fell to the ground, dead. Together the two carried home the 
carcass of the bear. When they threw it on the ground in front of 
the door it made a' great noise, causing the old woman to call out 
in fear, " What is that? " But when she learned what it was she was 
overjoyed. Having carefully dressed the bear, they cooked enough 
meat to make a good meal for all. As they gathered around the 
steaming bark bowl of meat and broth a young girl came in. The 
old woman asked her to eat with them, and she willingly accepted 
the invitation. The boys ate together and the girl and the old woman 
by themselves, as was the custom. When they had eaten their meal 
the strange girl asked for a piece of the meat to take home, and the 
old woman gave her a generous portion for her mother. On receiving 
it, the mother said, " Do you now give them corn bread and get some 
of the meat in exchange." The girl did as her mother requested, 
receiving two good-sized pieces of meat for the corn bread. Feeling 
that others might like to have meat in exchange for bread, Hoda- 
deiion said, " Let them have the meat for the corn bread, for corn 
bread is what we want now." 

Toward evening a man came to the doorway, and kicking aside the 
door flap, said: " I notify you to come to the Long Lodge, where the 
man sheds wampum instead of tears from his eyes. If you can pick 
up wampum after it has fallen to the ground, it is yours. If you can 



S'^-'^S] FICTION 211 

gather more than other people, it is your good fortune." The name 
of the herald was Hadyuswus." He then hurried on to the other 
lodges. 

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

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

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

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



212 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [kth. ANN. « 

Hodadenon said to his little brother, " Do not go into the Long 
Lodge. I shall go in alone. You must remain outside." 

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

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

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

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

After that they went outside of the village, where they found great 
piles of bones which once belonged to persons whom the wizards had 
killed. These they collected near a great hickory tree. When all had 
been gathered together, Hodadenon pushed against the tree, crying 
out to the bones, " Rise, my friends, or this tree will fall on you !" 
Instantly from the heap of bones living men sprang up. In the con- 



CCBTI 



x^] FICTION 213 



fusion of the moment sufficient care had not been taken to put to- 
gether the bones belonging to the same persons, hence one had an arm 
too short, another a leg; but Hodadenon went around among them 
stretching and arranging these defective limbs. Then he said to their 
possessors : " I have now brought you to life again. You must remain 
in one place for two days while I go to get meat for you." 

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

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

Then Hodadenon cast into the air toward the west a large quan- 
tity of tobacco, saying as he did so, " Go ye to the lodge of my sister, 
Yenyent'hwus." Far off in the west Yenyent'hwus picked up the rolls 



214 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

of tobacco which fell on her doorstep, with the words, " I thank you, 
brother ; I am so thankful to you, brother." When Hodadenon had 
sent home all the tobacco he burned up the lodge of Deagahgweoses. 
Then he went back to the place where he had left his newly recovered 
brother and the other men whom he had brought to life. Having 
arrived there, he told the men to go home if they so wished. Those 
who remembered whence they had come started, but those who did 
not know said, " You must take us with you." 

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

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

After being home about a year Hodadenon began to hear again 
at frequent intervals the peculiar sound, " Dum, dum, dum ! " He 
thought how strange it was to hear this sound. Then he remem- 
bered about the agreement made by Yeqsinye Honwande *" concern- 
ing the use of human flesh for food. He decided to learn this, saying : 
" I shall go and see whether he keeps his word ; see what he is 
doing." 



^h"/JS] fiction 215 

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

At this moment he heard the old man cry out. Running to him at 
once, he found that the man whom he called friend, the old widow's 
grandson, had already taken flesh from the legs and thighs of the 
old man. There he stood with his flint knife, ready to cut off 
more flesh, saying, " I do not know where to take off the next piece 
of flesh," when Hodadenon came into the room. The latter at once 
declared, " My friend, you agreed when we parted last that if you 
would eat human flesh you would fir.st kill the person before eating 
him, and you have not kept your word." '^ The other man defiantly 
replied, " Let us go out and fight to decide who shall rule." At once 
they went out, and they began to fight, going westward as they 
struggled, and soon disappeared in the woods. The young woman 
heard their cries and groans for several days. Killing the dog, she 
tried out its fat, and when the 10 days had passed and she heard them 
coming back toward the lodge she heated the fat and had it ready. 



216 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS tuTH. ann. S2 

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

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

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

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

So starting off, he changed his course and continued his journey 
until he came to the ridge of a hill, near which was a woman on watch, 
whose task required her to walk back and forth on a kind of raised 
platform. Before going up to her and revealing himself Hodade- 
non got slippery-elm bark, which he turned into wampum. Then 
hailing a mole, he said to it, " Take me to that woman on the plat- 



ZTi^] FICTION 217 

form, but do not let her see us; so pass beneath the surface of the 
ground and emerge under the platform." The mole, obeying, took 
Hodadenon, who had reduced his size by magic, into its body and, 
going underneath the surface, did as it was ordered. It emerged 
very near the place where the woman was passing to and fro. Com- 
ing out of the body of the mole, Hodadenon said to her, " Friend, 
I give you this wampum as a reward to you not to give the usual 
alarm on my account." She accepted the wampum. 

Then Hodadeiion called on the moles to go into the lodge of 
the four women to discover their hearts, and he accompanied them in 
the search. It so chanced that he was able to discover the hearts 
fastened to a string under a couch on which slept the elder of the 
four women. Seizing them at once he fled out of the lodge. At that 
moment the woman on watch gave the alarm, shouting, " Hodade- 
non has come ! Ho, there ! " The mother of the witches screamed to 
lier daughters : " Hurry after him my children ! Kill him ! for he is 
the last of the family." The eldest daughter outfooted the others 
and, as she was overtaking Hodadeiion, he bruised one of the 
hearts on the string and she fell dead. When the second daughter 
oame up, he bruised another heart, and she also fell dead; and a 
like fate befell the youngest daughter. Now the old mother alone 
was left of the brood of witches. She hurried up to him, whereupon 
be bruised the fourth heart, and she, too, fell lifeless. Wlien the four 
were dead, Hodadeiion ground their hearts to powder; then drag- 
ging the bodies to the lodge, he burned lodge, bodies, and powdered 
hearts. 

Now, the woman watch, who was walking to and fro on the plat- 
form continually, was the own sister of Hodadeiion. At this time 
she was a mere pouch of human skin for her bones and flesh were 
wanting. Near this platform was a large heap of bones of dead 
persons. Hoda,deiion carried these bones to the foot of a very 
large hickory tree, and upon the pile he placed the skin of his sister. 
He then pushed against the tree shouting, " Ho ! friends and sister, 
arise, for the tree is about to fall on you now." Instantly all leaped 
up alive, among them his sister. 

Then Hodadeiion went to the chestnut trees and taking a nut, 
he threw it to his other sister in the west, telling the rest of the nuts 
to follow. They did so, and as they entered the end of the lodge his 
sister Yenyentwus collected and stored them away. 

Hodadeiion now went home with his parents and sister and 
friends. When they had all taken their places it was seen that one 
of their number was missing, that there was still a vacant place. 

The next morning they found that they were living in a chestnut 
grove, for the trees were standing all aroimd the lodge. 



218 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

Later two men came to get some chestnuts for a person who was 
in danger of death. Replying to their request Hodadeiion said: 
" It is well. I will give you a chestnut, but you must be very careful 
not to lose it. Give me your arrow and I will hide the chestnut in 
the arrow. Be very careful of a man whom you will meet not far 
from this place. He will say to you, ' Stop, nephew ! ' and then he 
will come toward you. At that moment you must say, ' Let us see who 
can shoot the farther,' and before he can come near you, do you shoot 
away your arrows as far as you can, and you will thus save the chest- 
nut. If you lose this one I will not give any more." 

The two men went their way. Soon they saw a man who said to 
them, " Oh, nephews ! I have waited long to see you." Thereupon he 
started toward them, but they at once said, " Let us see who can 
shoot the farther." Rushing forward the stranger tried to grasp 
their ai-rows, and nearly succeeded in doing so. On failing in this 
attempt, he was very angry, and said, " You are not my nephews at 
all. Go your way at once." Willingly they hurried away from him, 
and after finding their arrows, made their way home. 

The next day Hodadeiion said : " There is still one more labor for 
me to perform. There is yet one empty seat in our lodge. I shall 
go west this time. Now I go." He had not gone very far on his 
journey before he saw an opening, or cleaning, in the forest ahead 
of him. When he came out of the forest into this clearing, he saw 
a large lake before him, the opposite shore of which he could not see. 
Between him and this lake was a lodge from which smoke was issu- 
ing. Walking up to this and pushing aside the doorflap, he entered ; 
within he found an old man mending moccasins. 

Raising his head, the old man said : " Well, nephew, I have been 
looking for you a long time. I knew that you would come. I am 
readj' to go home. I am from the same place from which you come. 
The first thing for us to do now will be to eat together." The old 
man had a pot of corn and beans with plenty of bear's meat for 
seasoning. After they had eaten, the old man said, " Now is our 
time. We will now go hunting on the little island." 

Going to a canoe, they got aboard of it. The old man, whose name 
was Shagowenotha Onononda Sowek,'- began to paddle the canoe, but 
he finally called the Onononda Sowek to come and do so. At once 
.small white ducks with black heads came and paddled the canoe over 
to the island. Dui'ing all this time the old man sang. When they 
landed the old man said, " Let us land." 

Then Shagowenotha said to his companion, " Now you go to the 
lower end and I will go to the upper end of this island. Then we 
shall meet in the middle of the island, and shall see how much game 
each of us will have." Hodadeiion started for the lower end of the 
island, but in a short time he heard the song of the old man. Turn- 



CDBT 
HEW 



,'xi] FICTION 219 



ing around, he saw him sailing back to the mainland. Hodadenon 
called to him, but received no reply. The old man, however, called 
out to the creatures in the lake, " If the man on the island tries to 
swim, eat him at once," and great hoarse voices out of the water 
answered, " We will." 

While standing and watching the canoe going over the lake, Ho- 
dadeiion heard a voice near him, saying, " Oh, my nephew ! come 
to me." Hodadeiion went toward the spot whence came the sound 
of the voice; when he drew near it, he found nothing but a pile of 
bones covered with moss. The bones asked, " Do you think, nephew, 
that you are going to die ? " "I do," answered Hodadenon. The 
bones, answering, said : " There is a maneater, a cannibal, coming 
to-night to kill you, but do me a favor, and I will tell you how to 
save yourself. Go to that great tree and bring me my pouch, and let 
me smoke, and I will explain all to you." Going after the pouch, as 
directed, Hodadenon bi'ought it to his uncle; then cutting up to- 
bacco, he filled the pipe and lighted it for his uncle. When the latter 
began to use the pipe, smoke issued from all the orifices in his skull — 
from the eyeless sockets, the nostrils, the ear openings, and the su- 
tures. When the uncle had finished he asked Hodadenon to take the 
pouch back to the place whence he had brought it, wherevipon Hoda- 
denon returned it to the pile of bones. Then the voice from the 
bones said: "You must go now to cut red willows for material for 
making manikins and bows and arrows. Run from here to various 
places on the island; put the manikins in crotches high up in the 
trees far from one another. Give each manikin a bow and arrow, 
and when you place each one, say to it, ' Shoot the dog when it 
comes.' When you have put up a number of these come back to me. 
Then you must go out with manikins a second time; and when you 
have set these up you must return to me ; and you must go out a 
third time with manikins. When putting up these you must in- 
struct them to shoot the dogs; after doing this, you must return to 
me. From here you must go to the end of the island, where you 
must step into the water and walk along in it until you come to an 
overhanging cliff, which is opposite the landing place. There they 
can not find you." 

Hodadenon did as his uncle, the bones, advised him to do. When 
the manikins were all completed and placed in their places he 
went to the overhanging bank and there hid himself. 

At evening came the Ongwe las*' in a canoe; he landed on the 
island. He was accompanied by three dogs, which he urged at once 
to find the game, Hodadenon, who now heard the hue and cry of the 
pursuit. Starting from the bones, they went to the tree where the 
pouch was hidden and thence returned. Then they went on farther 
until they came to the tree on which was placed the first manikin. 



220 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

The Ongwe las followed his dogs closely, singing as he ran, " There 
are no dogs like mine; there are no dogs like mine." Suddenly the 
dogs stopped, and the Ongwe las saw a boy in the tree pointing an 
arrow at one of them. At once shooting an arrow at the supposed 
boy, he brought him down. As the dogs sprang forward to seize the 
falling manikin, the Ongwe las shouted at them, " Do not eat the 
body ! Do not eat the body ! " But when he was able to see what 
he had killed, he found that the dogs were tearing nothing but red 
willow twigs. Then he was vei'y angry and, calling off his dogs, he 
urged them to follow the tracks elsewhere. 

It was not long before the dogs found another tree on which there 
was a manikin with drawn bow and arrow. When Ongwe las saw 
it, he exclaimed, " Oh ! he will kill one of my dogs ; " thereupon he 
shot an arrow, wliich brought down the manikin. The dogs, rush- 
ing at the falling body, seized it, but the Ongwe las shouted at them, 
" Do not eat the flesh ! Do not eat the flesh ! " as he hurried forward 
to take it from the dogs. When he saw that they were throwing only 
bits of red willow from their mouths he was indeed very angry; but 
he set the dogs on the trail again. 

They ran on with Ongwe las following them closely. After 
a while he heard them growling fiercely and found that they had 
stopped at a pile of bones. Seizing his- club, Ongwe las pounded the 
bones, saying, " I have eaten your flesh long ago and still you try to 
deceive me." Then, calling his dogs, he set them on the trail made 
by Hodadeiion when he went to put up the second lot of manikins. 
The dogs ran around with Ongwe las closely following them and 
singing, " There are no dogs like mine ; there are no dogs like mine." 
It was not long before they came to a manikin in the crotch of a 
tree. Seeing the drawn bow and arrow Ongwe las said, " Oh, he 
will kill one of my dogs." At that instant the manikin shot an 
arrow and one of the dogs dropped dead. Then Ongwe las shot 
an ari'ow into the manikin, which fell to the ground. He shouted 
at the dogs, " Do not eat the flesh ! Do not eat the flesh ! " Thereupon 
they let the body go, but he found that it was made merely of bits 
of red willow. 

Starting again on the trail, the dogs ran around for a long time in 
every direction over the island. Finally Ongwe las heard the two 
surviving dogs barking fiercely ; they were at the bones again. Com- 
ing up, he shouted: "Why do you deceive me? Long ago I ate your 
flesh. Why do you trouble me now ? " and, seizing his club, he 
pounded the bones savagely. 

A third time he set out with his two dogs on a trail. The dogs 
followed this until they came to a tree in which was a manikin. 
This figure shot one of the dogs, killing it. Then Ongwe las shot 
the manikin, which fell to the ground a mass of rotten wood. 



^"h,w,'?^] fiction 221 

At this time day began to dawn. The Ongwe las said to himself, 
" I shall go home now. When it is night again I shall return and I 
shall be sure of the game." So bringing his dead dogs to life and 
taking them into his canoe he sailed away. 

Hodadenon in his hiding place heard the chasing during the entire 
night, the barking of the dogs and the shouting of the Ongwe las; 
also the sounds made by the club striking his uncle, the bones. When 
daylight had come and all was quiet Hodadeiion, emerging from his 
hiding place, returned to his uncle, who welcomed him with the 
words : " Well, my nephew, you are alive yet. So will you now go 
to bring my pouch to me, and let me have a smoke, and I will tell 
you then what to do next." Hodadenon quickly fetched the pouch 
and filled the pipe with tobacco and, lighting it, he placed it in the 
mouth of his uncle, who smoked with great pleasure, letting the 
smoke come out of every suture in his skull and through its eye sock- 
ets and nose and ear openings. The uncle said to his nephew, "I 
thank you for this smoke. Now take the pouch back, and when you 
return we will talk over our troubles." Hodadeiion carefully con- 
cealed the pouch, and when he returned to his uncle he was ready to 
hear what he must do next. 

The uncle then said to him, " Now go to the place where the 
canoe of Ongwe las usually makes a landing; there dig a hole 
in the shore and bury yourself in the sand, leaving only the tip of 
your nose out. When Shagowenotha lands and hurries away to the 
opposite side of the island, you must get up quickly and board the 
canoe and have the ducks paddle you back to the mainland. So, 
nephew, take courage and you will win." 

While Hodadeiion was covering himself he heard Shagowenotha 
singing to the ducks as they paddled him over the water. .Soon he 
heard the canoe ground on the sandy shore and a voice saying, "I 
shall now go to the place where my nephew has spilled his blood." 
Paying strict attention to the advice of his uncle, the bones, Hoda- 
denon knew exactly what to do next. As soon ' as Shagowenotha 
was out of sight Hodadeiion arose quickh', and, calling the ducks, 
he pushed the canoe back into the water ; then he began to sing, " Now 
we paddle, my ducks; now we paddle, my ducks." The ducks pad- 
dled so swiftly that the canoe fairly flew over the water. The canoe 
was far out on the lake when Ongwe las saw it. At once he rushed 
to the beach and called out, " Let me get aboard ! Let me get 
aboard ! " 

Hodadenon heard but paid no attention to this entreaty; on the 
contrary, turning to the monsters dwelling in the depths of the lake, 
he said, " If Shagowenotha should try to swim after me, do you 
devour him." Then from the water came a confusion of voices say- 
ing hoarsely, " It shall be done; it shall be done." 



222 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

Shagowenotha ran up and down the shore, but he could not make 
his escape. When night came he climbed a tall tree. With the com- 
ing of thick darkness the Ongwe las came with his three dogs — he 
had restored to life the two that had been killed by the manikins — 
and he began at once to chase around with them to find traces of 
Hodadefion, for he thought that he was still on the island. At last 
the dogs led him to the tree in which Shagowenotha had sought shel- 
ter. The dogs barked furiously at Shagowenotha in the tree. When 
Ongwe las came up Shagowenotha cried out, " Oh, do not shoot me ! 
I am Shagowenotha." Ongwe las tamitingly replied, "You may 
call yourself Shagowenotha, but you can not fool me," and let tly 
an arrow at the Shagowenotha, who tumbled to the ground dead. 
Then Ongwe las carried off the body and cast it into the canoe, after 
which he paddled away. 

The next morning Hodadeiion said, " Now I shall go to the lodge 
of Ongwe las." Pushing the canoe out from the shore, he began to 
sing for the ducks, which came and paddled the canoe until almost 
evening, when Hodadefion saw woods on the shore and a lodge stand- 
ing near the water. Bringing the canoe to the beach, he hid it under 
the water ; then he said to the ducks, " You may go your way until I 
call for you." A woman came out of the lodge carrying two pieces of 
bark, and called to Hodadefion to remain in the water, where he had 
sunk the canoe. Going to him, she placed a piece of bark at the 
water's edge, telling Hodadeiion to step on it ; then putting down the 
next piece of bai'k, she asked him to step on that. Then she put the 
first jDiece before the second, and then the second before the first, and 
Hodadeiion kept stepping on bark imtil at last he reached the lodge 
without leaving a single track on the ground. When they were in the 
lodge Hodadeiion said to the woman : " I have come after you. I am 
your brother. What will you do ? " She replied, " I will go with 
you, but you must remain here until midday to-morrow." Under her 
couch was a smaller one, in which she put her brother; then replacing 
her own over it, she sat on the top. 

Soon the yelping of the dogs told of the arrival of Ongwe las, and 
his footsteps were heard. When the first dog came in, with his mouth 
open, the woman threw a bone into it, and afterward hit him on the 
head. The Ongwe las at once shouted at her, " Oh, you have killed 
my dog." In reply she asked, " Why do they run at me as they do? 
I have done nothing to them." Calling them off, he said, " I have 
had bad luck to-day. I have found nothing but a small cub." Thei-e- 
upon he prepared his game, which he cooked with pounded corn. 
When he had finished eating it he said, " My food was very tender 
and good, and now I shall take a smoke." Soon he added, " It seems 
to me, my niece, that you have two breaths." She answered sharply : 



S=wi'?t] fiction . 223 

" That is too much to say. You might as well kill me. You should 
not talk that way." 

The next morning Ongwe las said : " I shall not go hunting on that 
island again. I shall go to the other side of the country." Then he 
went away, much to the relief of his prisoners. 

After he had been gone some time the woman said, " He must be 
at his destination by this time, so you may come out." Hodadeiion 
came out from under the couch and went with the woman to the lake. 
There he raised the canoe; getting aboard, the two paddled away as 
quickly as possible. When they had reached the middle of the lake 
they suddenly heard Ongwe las shouting to them, " You can not escape 
from me ! You can not escape from me ! " Running into the lodge, 
he seized a hook and line, which he hurled at Hodadeiion, at the 
some time saying, " Catch the canoe ! " At once the hook did so and 
Ongwe las was pulling the canoe swiftly back to shore. Suddenly the 
woman saw that the forest on the shore seemed to be coming nearer 
and nearer, and then she saw the hook and line and Ongwe las at 
the other end of the line. She screamed to Hodadeiion to break the 
hook. This he quickly did and they were again free; t!iereupon 
they speedily paddled back to the middle of the lake. Then Ongwe 
las, in a great rage, screaming, " You shall not escape from me," 
started to run along the bottom of the lake toward his intended vic- 
tims ; but at the moment he was at the bottom Hodadeiion said, " Let 
there be ice all over the lake so thick that nothing -can break through 
it, and let our canoe be on the top of the ice." 

When Ongwe las thought that he was under the canoe he sprang 
upward toward the surface with all his might, striking the ice with 
such force that it cracked all over the lake. The force of the blow 
crushed the head of Ongwe las, so that he died. 

At once Hodadeiion willed that the ice melt away as rapidly 
as it had formed. When the ice was gone he and his sister paddled 
to the shore. On landing, they traveled on homeward. When they 
reached home they entered the lodge by the western doorway; then 
going around by the way of the south to the eastern side, Hodade- 
fion took his sister to the last couch, which was at the northwestern 
corner, where he seated her. The family was now complete and 
happy. 

42. The Uncle and His Nephew 

An uncle and his nephew lived together in a bark lodge in the 
woods. They had no neighbors. 

The uncle went every day to hunt and to dig wild potatoes. Dur- 
ing the day and evening the boy sat by the fire and parched corn to 
eat. Though the uncle brought home plenty of good potatoes, he 
gave his nephew onlj' small, poor ones to eat. 



224 • SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [etu. ann. 32 

The nephew wondered why they were always alone, so he asked 
his uncle whether there were other people living in that region. In 
reply the uncle said : " Far off in the west there are people powerful 
in sorcery, who took all our tribe captive except us two. This is 
the reason we are alone and have no neighbors." 

Then the boy wondered why his uncle gave him such small, poor 
potatoes to eat. He saw his uncle put large ones into the pot, but 
in the morning only small ones were left. So one night the nephew 
made a hole in the skin cover under which he slept, to watch his 
uncle. Toward midnight he saw his uncle get up and strike a light, 
and then going to an old couch in the corner of the lodge, in which 
no one seemingly slept, raise the top and call out a young man, who 
was beautiful to look upon, strong, and active. Both the uncle and 
the strange young man sat down by the fire. The potatoes, covered 
with moss, were simmering over the flames. The uncle uncovered 
them, picked out the best for his nephew, and brought him also 
meat and other food. After they had eaten heartily, the uncle sang 
and kept time for the young man with a turtle rattle while the latter 
danced. The little boy looked intently all the time at the young 
man, saying to himself, " I suppose that is my brother ; now we will 
have some fun." After the young man had finished dancing the 
uncle put him under the couch again and, banking the fire, lay down 
on his own couch. 

The next morning, as soon as the uncle had gone to hunt and to 
dig potatoes, the little boy went to the couch, and raising the corner 
of the cover, said, " Come out ! come out here ! brother, to me." '" Oh, 
no ! " said the young man, " I can not go out in the daytime ; those 
women off there in the west, the Wadi'oniondies, would hear me." 
"Oh, never mind; they will not hear you," said the boy. "Oh, yes; 
they will hear me, and the moment I come out they will carry me off. 
They do not know now that I am here, but the moment I make a 
noise they will hear it and will come for me." The little follow teased 
and begged so hard, however, that his brother came out at last. 
After eating together, one danced and then the other, until at last 
the young man heard the women calling in the distance, " Ween, 
Weeny Instantly the elder brother, jumping under the couch, cov- 
ered himself. 

All this time the little boy kept shaking the rattle and dancing 
with all his might. Soon two women appeared from the west, sailing 
in a canoe through the air. "Oh! where is he?" cried they. "Your 
brother ! where is he ? " said one of the women. " I have only an 
uncle, who is old. He is now off hunting," said the boy. " There is 
somebody here with you in the lodge," said one of the women. " Oh. 
no ! " said the boy, " I am alone." " Oh ! you little rogue, you lie," 
said the woman. " If I should lie, that is my business," answered the 



ZTiri] FICllON 225 

child. " Well, we will let you off this time, but you shall suffer if you 
lie again to us." 

In the evening when the old uncle came home, he inquired what he 
had been doing. "Have you found a brother?" he asked. "I have 
no brother, have I ? " asked the little boy. " Was not there anyone here 
to-day?" queried the uncle. "No," .said the lad. "Well, what did 
those women come for? I heard them," said the uncle. "There was 
no one here," said the child. The uncle said no more. 

The next morning, when going off to hunt, the uncle said, " You 
would better go out of doors to play, instead of turning everj'thing 
upside down in the lodge; go out of doors to play." His uncle had 
scarcely disappeared when the boy ran to his brother, begging him 
to come out, until at last he did so. Again they amused themselves; 
but in the midst of the dancing the elder brother heard two of the 
women coming. " Now," said he, " I must go; there is no use to hide 
or to deny that I am here. I must go." Presently the two women 
arrived in their canoe, which, grazing the top of the lodge, came to 
the ground. The elder brother got into the canoe, and away they went 
to the west. 

When the uncle came home at night he was bowed down with 
grief, for he knew what had happened. He sat down, crying bitterly. 
" Oh I do not cry so, uncle," said his little nephew ; " do not cry ; I 
will go and bring him back." Running out quickly, he gathered a 
lot of red-willow twigs, from which he scraped the bark. On throw- 
ing this into the fire straightway a thick column of smoke rose and 
shot off toward the west. Jumping into the smoke, the boy was 
borne away after his brother. He overtook the canoe when it was 
about halfway to its destination in the west. The youth in the canoe 
knew that his little brother was following to rescue him. One of the 
women was sitting in the bow of the canoe paddling, while the other 
sat in the stern steering. The young man turned to look at his little 
brother, whereupon one of the women in the canoe struck him on the 
side of the head with the paddle, crying out : " Sit still ! do not look 
around." As she struck him he turned his head slightly, so as to 
look again; he saw that his brother, on noticing the blow, sprang 
forward and jumped into the canoe, shouting: "Do not strike my 
brother." Then he cried : " Let this boat turn around and take my 
brother home." Instantly the canoe, turning around in spite of all 
that the women could do, sailed back faster than it had come. 

As they were nearing the uncle's lodge the women begged the 

little boy to let his brother go with them, saying: "We will give 

you whatever you wish, only let him go." He thought of what he 

might ask in payment for letting his brother go again. Then the 

94615°— 18 15 



226 SENECA FICnON', LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

young woman inquired: "Is there anything we might give to induce 
3'ou to let him go ? " He said : " Yes ; if each of you will give me 
her sexual organ for a moccasin, I will let him go." On tlieir con- 
senting, he cut out with his knife what he wanted and put the moc- 
casins on his feet ; they fitted well. Immediately he was at home. 

In answer to his old uncle's inquiry he said : " I brought my brother 
home, but let him go again; the women gave me these beautiful 
moccasins to get him back. I can do everything with them." After 
a few days the little boy had such power because of his moccasins 
that he told his uncle how the women were tormenting his brother, 
and that he was resolved to rescue him. Bringing a lot of red- 
willow twigs, he scraped off the bark, which he threw on the fife. 
Then jumping into the rising smoke, he shot off toward the west, 
where he came down at the edge of a clearing in a great wood. 
Just opposite, at the other end, was a Long Lodge, and at the right 
hand, at the edge of the wood, was a small lodge, in which a grand- 
mother lived with three grandchildren, a boy and two girls. 

After thinking a while, he said, " I will go over to the little lodge."' 
Going there he met a boy of his own age and size, just like liimself 
in every way; half of his hair (the crown) was black and half (the 
sides) red. "Oh! how do you do?" said the strange little boy. 
" Who are you ? You must be my brother ? " The boys looked at 
each other, and seeing that they were just about the same size they 
became brothers. " Now, you will come and live here with me, little 
boy," said the lad ; " I have two sisters and a grandmother ; my 
grandmother has gore out." 

AVhen the old woman came home the little boy said, " I have a 
brother here; he is going to live with us." " How could he live with 
us, we are so poor? " said the grandmother. " I think he can; he is 
poor himself and will be satisfied with what you have to give him," 
replied the lad. At last she consented to let him stay. The other 
boy, drawing near the old woman, asked : "Are you going to the chief's 
lodge? Have you heard what is going on there?" "Oh, yes!" 
said the old woman ; " the chief's two daughters brought a man from 
the east, from that great wampum people; they lumg him up last 
night and made him cry. His tears are wampum. Tonight they will 
do the same thing."' " Can we not go over there? " asked the boy. 
"I suppose so," said his grandmother; "I will get some wampum." 

When evening came the old woman, her grandchildren, and the 
little boy went to the Long Lodge. The people had already assem- 
bled, and the man was hanging from a post. The two sisters were 
sitting on couches, one on each side. The boy said to his friend, 
" Now we will get some dry rushes to light the pipes of the chiefs 
and of the people standing around, if they will let us in." 



'-^^^l^i] FICTION 227 

When the old woman came to the Long Lodge she asked whether 
she might not have a chance to get some wampum. They asked the 
chief, who said, " Yes; she is a good woman. Let her have a chance, 
too." " My little grandson and his friend,'' said the old woman, 
" will come in and carrj' lights to those who want to smoke." " Oh, 
yes," said the chief, " let the little boys come." 

As they went into the lodge the young man who was tied to the 
post smiled when he saw his brother. All who saw him wondered 
what the man was smiling at. Presently the chief gave orders to apply 
the firebrands. Thereupon they burned him on one side and then 
on the other; he cried bitterly, and as the tears fell they, turned into 
wampum beads, falling in a shower. All the people ran to collect the 
wampum, and the old grandmother got some too. After the man had 
cried a while they rested and smoked.** When the order was given to 
begin the torture a second time, the little brother gave one moccasin to 
his friend and kept the other himself. As they were about to begin 
the burning he said to the boy, " Now stick your foot into the fire." 
When he did so, one of the sisters screamed, as though in the agony 
of death, and never stopped until the boy took out his foot. All the 
people wondered what was the matter, but she would not tell. 

Again, as they were going to apply the fire to the man, the little 
nephew put his foot into the fire and the other sister screamed in 
terrible pain. After they had gotten some wampum and rested, the 
boy said, "Let them all sleep soundly." His grandmother and the 
little boy went outside with his friend, and the grandmother said, too, 
"Let them all sleep soundly." When all were asleep the lad cut 
down his brother, whom he took outside; then, walking around the 
lodge, he said, " Let this lodge be turned into flint and let it become 
red-hot." At once this came to pass and all within the lodge were 
burned up. " Now," said the boy, " I think you would better come 
home with me, grandmother; you would be a good wife for my 
uncle." 

All went to the uncle's lodge, where they found him crying for his 
lost nephew. He had been tormented by foxes, who had knocked at 
the door, saying, " We have come, uncle." After the nephews and 
the rest of the company had come into the old uncle's lodge, a fox 
who did not know of the new arrivals knocked at the door, saying, 
" Uncle, I have come." " Let him in," said the boy, while all hid 
themselves. On coming in the fox ran toward the fire to get ashes 
to throw into the old man's face, but the boy caught him. Saying, 
" Oh, you rascal ! I will fix you now," he tied together the fox's fore- 
legs with a bark rope and hung him up; thereupon the tears came 
out of his eyes, his face and — [Here the story ends abruptly.] 



228 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. a.nn. 32 

43. HiNON Saves a Woman from Suicide 

In a certain village a young man and a young woman were mar- 
ried. Soon after their marriage they set out on a hunting expedition. 
After traveling some distance they came to a dense wood, where they 
stopped and built a brush lodge. Every morning the young man, 
leaving his wife at the lodge, always with the warning not to sleep 
during the day, went out in pursuit of game. 

One afternoon, coming back earlier than usual, the young man 
found her asleep. He saw a great rattlesnake among the skins on 
which she lay. While ti-ying to pull the snake away, it disappeared 
into her body through her pudendum. When she awoke the young 
man, without saying anything of what had occurred, proposed that 
they should go back to the village, as he was tired of hunting. On 
reaching home, he told his wife to go her way and he would go his. 

Not long after this she married another man. On the following 
morning her new husband was found dead. She soon married still 
another man, who was also found dead on the morning after the 
marriage. Her people then resolved to find out from the first hus- 
band why he had put her away. After much persuasion he told 
them why, saying, '• While hunting I often asked her never to sleep 
in the daytime, but one afternoon on I'eturning to my camp I found 
her asleep; there was also a rattlesnake in the bed, which, when I 
tried to drive it away, disappeared into her body." 

The mother of the young woman told her what they had heard 
from the first husband. She was so ashamed and troubled that she 
determined to kill herself by going over Niagara Falls. Getting 
into her canoe a mile or so above the Falls, she pushed out into 
the middle of the river. The mother followed her, but too late to- 
stop her daughter. As the canoe neared the Falls the latter, lying 
down and covering her face with her mantle, disappeared over the 
brink. But Hinon, who dwells under the Falls, taking the young 
woman from the water, carried her to his home, where he prepared 
medicine which he gave to her; then, looking at her, he raised her 
by the shoulders and let her down on her feet. The second time he 
did this a dead snake dropped out of her person on the ground. 
Hinon said, " I am glad to see this snake. Now I shall have some- 
thing to eat." Roasting the snake on the hot coals of his hearth he 
i'te it. 

The young woman lived with Hinon for some time. As she could 
not eat his food, he often brought ears of corn, saying, " Here is some 
corn from your mother's field." Then he would bring a roasted 
squash with the words, " I brought this from your mother's coals," 
having taken it from her fireside. 



CUBTIN 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 229 



They lived in this way until the woman was far advanced in 
pregnancy. Then Hinon said to some of his companions, " It is now 
time to deliver this woman to her mother. You must take her 
only to her mother's field." So, taking her to the field, they left her. 
Soon she heard some one crying, and then she saw her mother. The 
mother was frightened, but she stopped crying and called out, "Are 
you in your natural life? " The young woman assured her that she 
was, and together they went to the mother's lodge. Not long after 
her arrival there the young woman gave birth to a boy. 

When the boy was large enough to run around they often heard 
Hinon coming, and then it would rain very hard. The boy would 
go out into the storm and he would be gone some time, but when he 
came back he would be perfectly dry. At last he said, " The next 
time my father comes I shall go away with him, and not return." 
So he went and he was never seen again; but he is always with his 
father, and it is he who thunders in the sharp voice of a young man. 

44. The Crawfish and the Raccoon 

The chief of the Crawfish settlement one day told his people that 
he was going about to inspect things and to see if the Ongwe las 
was around. 

Starting out, he went to every lodge ; he found that every one was in 
and well. On his way home, as he was walking along the edge of the 
water he found what he judged to be the body of Ongwe las. " Oh ! 
this is good luck," said he ; "I will go and tell all the people to come 
to see Ongwe las lying here dead." So he invited all to turn out 
and see their enemy, whom he supposed was dead. 

The whole multitude came and saw the Ongwe las lying on the 
ground with his face black and covered with flies. One of them 
went up and pinched his lips hard, but he did not move. Then 
saying, "We will sing a song of rejoicing," they formed in a circle 
around the Ongwe las to dance. While they were dancing and sing- 
ing, all at once their enemy, the Ongwe las, springing up, ate the 
whole tribe except two or three who escaped. The Ongwe las knew 
the fondness of the Crawfish for dead meat of any kind, so his ruse 
was successful in providing him with a meal. 

45. The Race Between the Turtle and the Bear 

There was once an old man going along slowly but surely by him- 
self. After traveling some distance he met another man, who asked 
him, "Where are you going? " " Oh. I am going east to see the peo- 
ple," the old man replied. "You will never get there; it is so far 
away, and you are too fat for the road," answered the stranger. 
Thereupon they parted company. 



230 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

Soon the old man met another person, a slender young man, who 
asked, "Where are you going?" "I am going to the east to see 
how people live in that region," answered the old man. " You 
can not get there; you are too fat, and so you can not travel so far." 
said the young man. "How do you keep so fat?" "Well, when I 
come to a village and find people Ijing around, I bore a hole in each 
one I like and suck the fat out; that is the way to get fat," said the 
old man. " I must try this plan. I am so lean that I must try to 
get fat," said the other. 

Each went his own road. Soon the thin man came to an opening, 
or clearing, in the forest, where he found an animal lying asleep at 
the edge of the woods. Crawling up to it carefully he tried to make 
a hole in its body near the tail, in order to suck out the fat. But the 
animal, springing up, hit him a great blow with his heels and ran off. 
" I shall pay that old man the next time I meet him," said the slim 
man. 

Going on farther he met the fat old fellow again. " How do you 
get so fat ? " asked the slim man. " Oh, I do it by eating fish." said 
the old man; "I put my tail through a hole in the ice, and when a 
fish bites I pull him out and eat him. That is how I get fat." " I 
will try that plan," said the slim young man. He went on until he 
came to where there was a good place to fish. Making a hole in the 
ice, he stuck his tail through and waited until it was frozen in ; then 
he pulled until his tail came off. 

The young man went on his way and was magically changed into an- 
other land of person through losing his tail. He traveled around until 
the next summer, when again he met the old man. " Where are you 
going? " he asked of the latter. " I am going east," said the old man. 
" You will never get there ; yo>i are so fat you can not travel, fast 
enough. You would better run a race with me." " Very well," said 
the fat man ; " you may run on land but I will run on water. We will 
run to-morrow." 

The fat man collected a great number of his people, whom he 
posted in the river all along the course to the starting place, telling 
each one to stick up his head when the land runner had come almost 
up to him. As was customary in the contests of great sorcerers, the 
wager in this race was the head of the loser. 

The racers started. The slim young man ran with all his might, 
but every little while the fat man, as he thought, stuck his head out 
of the water in advance of him. When he returned to the starting 
place the fat man was there before him. " You have won the race," 
said the young man. " Of course I have," said the fat man, and 
seizing the young fellow by the neck he led him to a stone where he 
cut off his head. 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



it] fiction 231 



Then the fat man's friends, all coming out of the water, went to the 
starting place. When they looked at the dead land runner they said : 
" Oh, what a fool ! Oh, what a fool ! " 

Now, the old man, the water runner, was a mud turtle. The land 
runner was a bear, but he had been a fox until he lost his tail in the 
ice. Bears are all stub-tailed since the fox lost his tail in the ice. 

46. The Woman Who Became a Maneater Through the Orenda 
OF Her Husband's Dogs 

There was once a man who, in company with his wife and little 
daughter, went hunting in a distant region. Having arrived at his 
destination, the man built a brush lodge in the woods. Every day he 
went in pursuit of game. 

The man had three dogs, who were his brothers, and of whom he 
was fond. He shared his food with them and felt bad if they were 
ill-used. When he left them at home he always told his wife to feed 
them well and to take good care of them, but in spite of this she abused 
the dogs; no matter how long he was away, she would give them 
nothing to eat. At last, the smallest of the three dogs told the man 
how badly they were treated, saying, " Our sister-in-law never gives 
us anything to eat; whatever she cooks, she herself eats; if you will 
watch her, you will see how it is." When her husband was around 
the woman was kind to the dogs in order to deceive him. The little 
dog, however, told him all that happened in the lodge while he was 
away hunting. 

Now, the little dog was fond of good things; so one night he said 
to his brothers, " I will get some food without asking, if only you 
will help me." He had noticed that the woman kept food for her- 
self, which she hid under the skins on which she slept, and had seen 
her hide there a skin bag of roasted corn. He said further to his 
brothers, " You are large and strong and can get it while she is 
asleep." "No," said the large dog; "we are heavy and awkward, 
and we would only awaken her; but you are light and small, and so 
can lie down by her without being noticed." " Very well ; I will 
try," was the little dog's answer to this. 

So at midnight, when all were sound asleep, the little dog, making 
his way to the bag of roasted corn hidden under the woman's head, 
pulled it cai-efuUy until he got it out. The large dogs had drawn 
the door Hap aside for him, and all three, well pleased, ran off toward 
the spring, where they could obtain water to wash down the roasted 
corn. The little dog said to one of his brothers, " You can carry the 
bag now." In taking it he tore it open, when they found it was 
merely a pouch of roots, bark, and leaves instead of a bag of corn; 
so they had got into trouble for nothing. Then the large dog said, 
" The safest way for us is to carry this bag back, and you who got it 



232 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 82 

must return it." So, taking it back, the little dog placed it with the 
torn side down, near the woman's head. The next morning when the 
woman shook the skins she found the pouch torn and laid the blame 
on the mice. 

A few days after this the little dog said to the man, " We are going 
to punish our sister-in-law for the bad treatment she gives us." The 
man decided that he would say nothing, and that they might punish 
her if they wished.' The next morning he said to his dogs, " You 
must stay at home, for I shall be away all night." After he had 
gone the woman began cooking, and the little dog watched all her 
movements. When she took the meat down his mouth watered for 
a piece of it. The dogs sat around watching her as she cut it up, 
but she did not give them even a mouthful. It so chanced that she 
cut her finger badly and was not able to stanch the bleeding. In at- 
tempting to do so she even thrust the finger into her mouth and began 
sucking it. She found that she liked the taste of her own blood, and 
later even the meat she was cooking did not taste so good. So she 
sucked all the blood out of that finger; then she cut another finger 
and sucked that, for she had forgotten all about the cooking. Next 
she cut one arm and sucked it, then the other; then one leg and then 
the other. Finally, when she had sucked all the blood out of her 
body, she cut off her flesh, piece after piece, and ate it. The dogs 
sat aroimd watching her, and her little girl also was looking on. 
After she had eaten all her own flesh she seized her daughter and, 
though the child cried and begged for mercy, the unnatural mother, 
paying no heed to her pleadings, killed her and ate her. 

Then the woman ran off in the direction her husband had taken. 
Suddenly the hunter heard something behind him. Turning, he 
saw the little dog, who said to him : " I have come to tell you that 
your wife has become a man-eater; she has eaten the flesh off her 
own body and has eaten your child, and is now on your trail. We 
must run for our lives. We will go to the settlement and you must 
tell the people to leave the place and run, for one is following us who 
will devour them all. Those who believe you will escape, but those 
who do not will die. We must run with all speed, for she is following 
us fast." 

Now, it was through the orenda of the dogs and their influence 
that the woman had become a man-eater. 

When they reached the settlement, the man told the people of 
their danger. Some escaped, but the woman quickly ate all who 
remained. Again she followed on her husband's trail. The little 
dog told the man when the woman reached the settlement, and soon 
after said, " Now do your best, for she is coming with greater speed 
than before; we are near a large river." The fugitives reached the 
river and the man, making a small raft, quickly got on it with his 



S^wS] FICTION • 233 

dogs. He was in the middle of the stream when the woman reached 
the bank and called out, " Your flesh is mine. I am going to eat it." 
Thereupon she made a great leap with the intention of landing on 
the raft, but missing it, she was drowned. After the fugitives had 
crossed the river and had given thanks for their escape, the little 
dog said, " We shall soon come to a village, and you must do my 
bidding." 

When they came to an opening or clearing in the forest they saw 
near by a wretched-looking lodge, and the little dog said, " We are 
going there; a couple of poor old people live in that lodge." On 
entering, the hunter asked tlie old man of the lodge whether he could 
stay with him for a short time. The old man answered : " It is diffi- 
cult to grant your request. We have as much as we can do to live 
ourselves." " It is true," said the man, " you are very poor ; so are we. 
I am not in search of a good home. I am looking for people in my 
own circumstances." "Very well," said the old man, "you can stay 
with us, but the chief of the place knows already that you have 
come; he has great magic power and I am afraid that he will take 
your life." 

Some time passed. Every night the old man would spend a long 
time in relating the hi.story of the chief and the people. As the 
visiting man was a good hunter, he brought in much game and 
soon the old man's lodge was full of meat. After a while the old 
man said, " AVe have decided to adopt you. and you shall be one of 
our children." 

The chief knew that there was a stranger in the place, and the 
old man said: " He will be here in two days; he is coming to see who 
is with us. He will tell you that he is your uncle, and will challenge 
you to a foot race. You must ask for two days' time for preparation." 
"Very well," said the man, and as usual he started off to hunt. His 
dog seemed to know where all the bears were. When he had Idlled 
as many as he wanted he went home. The old man said, " The chief 
has been here, and he challenges you to a foot race." 

AVlien the time came for the race, the old man and his wife and 
granddaughter .started for the race course. The man had said to 
him, " I will come as soon as I can make my preparations." The 
second dog volunteered to take the man's place in the race, but the 
little one said, "You stay at home and I will do the hunting"; and 
to the man he said, " Take off your garments and let me have them." 
When the dog had put on the garments, he looked just like the man. 
The other dog said to the man, " We will go off hunting while he is 
doing the running." The hunter and the dog were very happy, for 
they knew that their little brother would win the race. 

When the people had assembled on the race course and the old man 
saw his supposed son coming, he said, " See how well our son is pre- 



234 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

pai'ed for the race." They saw no difference whatever between the 
person before them and their adopted son. There were many people 
present, for the village seemed to be very large. Meanwhile the 
hunter who had accepted the challenge was oflF in the woods. One 
of the dogs said to him, " They are now ready to start. They have 
started." Though far off in the woods, the dogs seemed to see every- 
thing. All at once they called out: " Owe! Owe! Our brother has 
won the race. Did we not tell you that he would never be outrun? 
Now we may as well go home." So they started homeward. They 
had been at the lodge but a short time when the runner came in, and, 
taking off the garments of the hunter, who then put them on again, 
the three dogs laid down by the fire. 

It is said that during the race the chief, seeing that he was out- 
stripped, threw a horn after the dog-man, which stuck into his foot. 
While the dog-man was trying to pull out the horn, the chief passed 
him, calling, " What are you doing there I Get up ! " By the time 
. the dog-man had drawn the horn out of his foot, his enemy was 
near the goal. But, springing up, he threw the horn at his enemy; 
it stuck into the chief's foot, causing him to fall to the ground. 
Then the dog-man ran ahead, calling out, " Why do you not get up ? 
You can not sit there and beat me." But before the chief could pull 
out the horn, the dog-man had passed the goal. 

Wlien the old man cam« home he said to his son, " I thank you for 
outrunning your enemy ; there has never been anyone to outrun him ; 
all have been beaten. Since the wager was heads, j'ou can take his 
life whenever you wish." Then he asked the man whether he had 
done his best. " No," said he, " I used about half my strength." 
'' Very well," said the old man ; " he has another game to propose ; 
he will never stop proposing trials of strength, skill, or speed until 
he has taken your life. To be beaten this time makes him very angry ; 
in two days he will challenge you to play ball with him." "All right," 
replied the man, " I am ready to meet him." 

In two days they saw the chief coming, and as he entered the lodge, 
he said : " I am sick for a game of ball, and I challenge you to play 
a game against me ; you won in one game, so now try another. I will 
wager all I have, and if you win, you shall be chief in my place." 
The man replied : " I also am sick from lack of amusement and I 
accept your challenge. I have never met the man who could beat me 
in a game of ball. But give me time. You have come une.xpectedly, 
and I must make a ball club." " Very well," said the chief, going 
away. 

The bent ball club the hunter hung up to season, and the old man 
made strings; the next day they netted the club. They were ready 
just in time to go to the ball ground. The time appointed for the 
game was at midday, and the old man and woman said, " We shall 



|"/JS] FICTION 235 

now start." " Very well ; I shall come sooti," said the adopted son. 
Then the little dog said, "Let it be our eldest brother who shall take 
part in this game." So the man removed hi.s garments, and the dog 
put them on; there he stood, looking just like the man. The little 
dog said, " We shall surely win the game." The hunter and the other 
dogs went to the woods to hunt, while the dog-man went to the ball 
ground. 

The chief was on the spot watching impatiently for the man. At 
last he saw him coming, with his long hair tied back ; he carried 
his club well and looked splendid. The old man, supposing it was 
his son, said : " Now, you must use all your strength and must not 
be beaten." The dog-man saw that his antagonist was walking 
around in the crowd, with a very proud and haughty manner. The 
dog-man seemed very mild and without strength enough for the 
game. 

Seeing that it was time to begin, the people fell back and gave 
room to the players. When the word was given the players came 
forward, and the chief said : " I will take my place on this side." 
"No; you shall not," said the other; "you gave the challenge, and I 
will choose my place." The chief had to yield, the dog-man choosing 
the side the chief wanted. They then began to play. " Now," said 
the little dog to the hunter in the woods. " our brother has begun 
the game, which will be a very close contest." Soon he said : " The 
chief's ball has missed the goal; they play well; our brother 
has caught and sent the ball back. Oh ! now he has won an inning. 
They will play one more inning." All at once he called out : " They 
have begun again. It is a very close game. Our brother is having 
all he can do. We may be beaten, however." Then he called out: 
" Owe! Owe! Our brother has won the game. -You are chief, and 
all the old chief has is ours." 

As the dog-man had won two straight games, he caught the chief 
by the hair and cut his head off. Many of the people thanked him. 
They said that the old chief had never spared them; that when he 
had been the loser he had always given the people up to slaughter 
and saved his own life. The winner seemed to have won many 
friends among those who witnessed the game. The little dog said: 
" Now we shall go home." They had been there but a short time 
when the ball player came in; giving back the man's garments, he 
immediately became a dog again. 

When the old people came into the lodge they thanked their son, 
saying: "You have done more than anyone else was ever able to 
do before. You are the chief now." As they praised their son they 
did not know that it was a dog that had done the work. 

The next morning the little dog said : " Let us go to live in the 
chief's lodge." So the hunter, with the old man and his family, 



236 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [etii. ans. sa 

moved into the new lodge. All the old chief's things had been left 
in their places, as they wero part of the wager. Now, as the dogs 
were so full of orenda, he became a great chief and had much power 
and influence among the people. 

[The narrator of the foregoing story said : " It is true that when- 
ever a person loves a dog he derives great power from it. Dogs still 
know all we say, only they are not at liberty to speak. If you do not 
love a dog. he has power to injure you by his orenda."] 

47. Gantadjigowa '^ 

There was a man named Ganyadjigowa who lived in a lodge on 
a bay opening into a lake. One morning he went out in a bark 
canoe to fish, but catching no fish he came home and put the canoe 
away. Soon after this he said, " Well, I must go somewhere," so he 
walked along the shore of the lake until he came to its outlet, where 
he saw a lodge, which he entered. Finding no one at home and 
seeing plenty of meat, he ate what he wanted, and Avas starting off 
with a supply when he saw somebody with a big load of meat com- 
ing up from the lake. This was an old man named Twentgowa. 
They met and greeted each other, Ganyadjigowa saying, " I came 
to visit you ; I have been in your lodge." " Well, come back with 
me," said Twentgowa.*" " No, I must go on," said Ganyadjigowa. 
" Come again," said Twentgowa. 

Ganyadjigowa did not go back, because he had stolen some of the 
meat. He swam across the outlet of the lake, and, keeping along the 
bank, he soon saw another lodge. Peeping into it he saw a large 
family — two old people and their children; these were Hongak 
people. After standing a while he thought, " I will go in," and he 
did so. The inmate's greeted him with. " Where do you come from? " 
" From the other side of the lake." answered Ganyadjigowa. " What 
do you come for? " they asked him. "Oh! to look around; it is so 
pleasant to-day," Ganyadjigowa replied. "How far will you go?" 
he was asked. "Around the lake," he answered. 

The two men became good friends. Then Hongak *' said, " I must 
go with you, my friend." "Very well." said Ganyadjigowa, and 
they started along the shore. At midday they came to the mouth 
of a river and Ganyadjigowa asked, "How can we cross the river? " 
" Let us swim," said Hongak ; " I suppose you know how to swim." 
"Very well, indeed," said Ganyadjigowa. So they swam across the 
river and then walked on till they saw a rock, then many rocks. 
As they went along the path grew narrower and narrower. Hongak 
was ahead. Ganyadjigowa picked up a stone, and tying a bark string 
around it hung it on Hongak's back, so that he could not walk, for 
he kept slipping back. Ganyadjigowa said to him, "Go on! I am 
in a hurry. I want to get home before dark." " Let me go, then," 



^^l^i] FICTION 237 



c 

HE7W 



said Hongak; " do not pull me back." " I am nqfc pulling you back," 
replied Ganyadjigowa; "I will go ahead if you like. Wait and I 
will pass you." 

When Ganyadjigowa got ahead, he said, "Now, come on!" 
Hongak could not go, for he was unable to walk. Ganyadjigowa 
went on, leaving him behind. The path grew narrower and nar- 
rower until he came to a place where there was not room to walk, 
and he thought, " How am I to get by these rocks ? " The name of 
this place was Heiosdenoon (" the rocks go to the water "). 

Here Ganyadjigowa resolved to go back, but there was not room 
to turn around. Then he said, " I must go backward." After a 
few steps in this way, he fell into the water and went under. When 
he thought he was past the rocks he came out of the water and 
walked on again. The sun was near the horizon and he thought, 
" When shall I get home ? " It was soon dark. Finding a hollow 
tree, he crawled into it. 

Not long after this Ganyadjigowa heard footsteps in the leaves 
outside. The soimd stopped at the tree. Ganyadjigowa kept vei-y 
still. A voice said, " Well, you are sleeping in here? " " Yes; I am," 
replied Ganyadjigowa. " I want you to come out and talk with me," 
was the challenge. Ganyadjigowa crawled out. There stood Hon- 
gak, the man he had left behind. " Well," Hongak asked, " do you 
know who I am? " "Why are you angry? I thought you wanted 
to stay. I urged you to come but you would not," said Ganyadji- 
gowa. Hongak said : " No. You did something to make me stop. 
Look at my back." The feathers were all off where the stone had 
been secured. 

Now Hongak began to fight with Ganyadjigowa, who soon ran 
away, for he did not want to fight. Speedily overtaking him, Hon- 
gak began to fight again. Ganyadjigowa now grew angry. They 
fought till dark the next day. "Let us rest," said Ganyadjigowa. 
" Well, you stay here ; I will be back to-morrow," said Hongak. As 
soon as Hongak was out of sight Ganyadjigowa ran away. Coming 
to a river he decided to try to swim, but the water ran too swiftly. 
He was carried downstream into rough water, where he could not 
help himself. In the water was a stone against which he was driven ; 
he thought, " Now I am going to die." He was on the stone all 
night. 

Hongak came back in the morning and, not finding his enemy, 
tracked him to the water. Then, saying, " I will catch him," he 
went into the water and tried to swim. But the water ran so fast 
that it carried him down to the stone where Ganyadjigowa was. 
Hongak said, "I am going to die this time." Ganyadjigowa heard 
someone talking, and he knew who it was. Now he tried to get 



238 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

away. After struggling a long time he freed himself and came to 
shore. Hongak became filled with water and died. Then his body 
floated to .shore, whereupon Ganyadjigowa said: "Oh! there is my 
friend. Did he think he could kill me ? I have more orenda than he 
had." Traveling on, Ganyadjigowa soon got home. 

One night he dreamed he was on the way to the west. Coming to 
a large opening and looking around, he saw a Ganiagwaihe approach- 
ing from the southeast. He thought, " I am going to die. That bear 
will eat me." It came nearer and nearer. He went back and farther 
back. Soon from the northwest came a Djainosgowa.*' Ganyadji- 
gowa continued going backward as fast as he could. At last the two 
animals met and began to fight. He stood and watched them, wonder- 
ing which would overcome his antagonist. As they fought they drew 
near him. He began to go backward again until he fell into a hole 
in the ground, with the two animals on him. Then he screamed: 
" Hurry up ! Help me ! I am going to die under these terrible 
creatures." Awaking, he found himself alone with his skin blankets 
wrapped aroimd him; he had rolled off his couch to the floor. He 
said, " What a bad dream I have had ! " 

Falling asleep again, again he dreamed of the same creatures, but 
thought they were in the woods and belonged to him. He made 
them stand near each other, and, laying a stick across them, he sat 
on it. Then he told the animals to go westward ; they did so, where- 
upon he said, " Oh, this is fun." They reached the end of the earth 
very quickly. Then he jumped off, saying, " Stay here until I come 
back." He went south till he found a lodge; going in, he saw a 
fine-looking old man. "I have come to see you; I am traveling 
around the earth," said Ganyadjigowa. "Where do you come 
from? " asked the old man. " I came from the Great Lake," replied 
Ganyadjigowa. "WHiat do you travel for?" queried the old man. 
"Oh, just to see how the earth is and what people are living on it," 
said Ganyadjigowa. "What is your name?" asked the old man. 
" My name is Ganyadjigowa," was the young man's reply. " What is 
yours?" "My name is Djothowandon.^' My master lives not far 
away. You must see him before you visit me," was. the old man's 
reply. 

Going in the direction pointed out, Ganyadjigowa came to a lodge 
standing on a big rock. He stood by the rock, thinking, " How am I 
going to get up there ? " Then he saw a narrow ledge running around 
and around ; following this, he came to the lodge. On looking about 
he saw an old man sitting by the fire. They greeted each other, the 
old man saying, "Why did you come here?" "Just to see all the 
world," said Ganyadjigowa. "Where do you come from? " said the 
old man. "I came from the Great Lake," said Ganyadjigowa. 



"n^Tiri] FICTIOIf 239 

'• What is your name? " continued the occupant of the lodge. " Gan- 
yadjigowa," the young man declared. "What is yours?" Ganyad- 
jigowa asked in turn. "I am called Dagwanoenyent," said the old 
man. Then Ganyadjigowa said, " Will you let me visit j'ou? " " Oh, 
j'BS ! you can staj' with me as long as you like," said the old man. " I 
will stay several days," said the visitor. 

One morning Dagwanoenyent asked, " Would you like to go down 
to see my servant? " " Yes; I should like to go," said Ganyadjigowa. 
They soon came to Djothowandon's lodge, when Dagwanoenyent 
said, " This is my servant's lodge. Let us go in." On going in Dag- 
wanoenyent said, " My servant is not at home. I believe he has gone 
to the southern end of the world." Dagwanoenyent said, "A very 
cross people live there. My servant is trying to make them peace- 
ful." " Now you would better go home. Something will come and 
chase you if you are down here at midday," said the old man. " Very 
well," said Ganyadjigowa, starting after his animals. 

Soon, on seeing Dahdahwat'" approaching, Ganyadjigowa tried to 
hide, but he could find no place of concealment. Dahdahwat chased 
him, and, seizing him, threw him down and began to bite him. 
Ganyadjigowa could not get away. He tried so hard that the sweat 
came out like rain. Then he awoke. He was all wet and the sun was 
pouring in on him. He felt sad and worried about his dreams. 
About noon, becoming hungry, he said, " I must take my canoe and 
try to catch some fish." He went far out into the lake, keeping a 
sharp lookout for fish. Seeing one, he jumped overboard after it, 
but could not find it. On seeing another he dived again — once 
more, no fish. He looked down again. Yes; there it was. He 
looked and looked. Then he found that there was a fish on the 
right side of his canoe, the shadow of which was visible down in 
the water. He caught the fish, and after eating it started to go home, 
but he was far out in the lake and did not know which way he had 
come. He made way very fast, however, in the right direction, as he 
thought, and reached the shore, but saw no lodge. 

Leaving his canoe, he walked toward home, as he supposed. He 
walked all day until night. Then he saw a hut in the woods. Going 
near it, he stood and listened. There was a man talking in the hut, 
who said: " This is the way to get great magic power. I know all 
about what to do to get great magic power, and I can show anyone 
who comes here. I know the whole world and I can give magic power 
to whomsoever wants it. I wish Ganyadjigowa would come. I 
could show him how strong magically I am. He thinks he is the 
strongest man under the Blue Sky." Ganyadjigowa thought, "Why 
does he say this? Does he know that I am the strongest? I have been 
all over the world" (he had only dreamed that he had been). He 
still listened. Gaasyendiet'ha ''^ (for this was the name of the old 



240 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. Wi 

man) continued: "I am the greatest runner and the greatest flyer in 
the world. I can make light go through the world. I have greater 
strength magically than anyone else. For several years the Duck 
peof)le tried to chase me. I killed them all. I am the man ap- 
pointed many, many years ago to be chief of all the people under the 
Blue Sky." Ganyadjigowa said: "I would kill that man if he 
followed me. He must be crazy. He talks to himself all the time." 

Then Ganyadjigowa, entering the lodge, said, "You are talking 
about me, are you not 'i " " Oh, no," replied the strange man. " Well, 
I will go. I thought yon were talking about me," repeated Ganya- 
djigowa. 

Going outside the hut, Ganyadjigowa picked up two stones and 
striking them together, said, " I would do that way with that man 
if he came after me." Gaasyendiet'ha, coming out of the hut, asked, 
"What are you saying? " "Oh, I was saying this is the best friend 
I have," declared Ganyadjigowa. "What did you say about the 
stone? " asked Gaasyendiet'ha. "I said when my friend traveled he 
had to carry these stones, and if he went into the water he had to 
throw them away," declared Ganyadjigowa. 

Half believing what was told him, Gaasyendiet'ha went back into 
the lodge. Ganyadjigowa laughed and laughed, thinking, " Oh, what 
a fool he is! He believes what I say." Then he went into the hut 
again. Gaasyendiet'ha said, "Why do you come here? Why do you 
not go home ? " " Oh, I want to visit you until to-morrow morning," 
said Ganyadjigowa. " No, I do not want such a man as you are 
around," declared Gaasyendiet'ha. " I will not trouble j^ou. I will 
not chase you," said Ganyadjigowa. "Go on home! I do not like 
you. You are too mean," Gaasyendiet'ha declared. Ganyadjigowa 
answered, " Oh, no ! I am not." Gaasyendiet'ha said- " Well, stay 
then ; but you nmst not talk to me." " Very well," said Ganyadjigowa. 

Night came. Sitting down by the fire with his pipe, Gaasj'endiet'ha 
put coals into it and began to puff clouds of smoke. Ganyadjigowa 
said, "How do you get tobacco? " Turning around, Gaasyendiet'ha 
looked at him. " Do not speak to me," commanded Gaasyendiet'ha. 
Soon Ganyadjigowa asked, "Does it taste good?" Gaasyendiet'ha 
did not answer, but kept on smoking. Soon afterward Ganyadjigowa 
spoke again, saying, " How strangely the smoke is rolling around the 
room." Gaasyendiet'ha said, angrily, " Go out of this hut ! I tell 
you I do not want you here." " But you said I might stay until 
morning," pleaded Ganyadjigowa. "I will be quiet now; do not put 
me out." " Very well," said Gaasyendiet'ha, and smoked on. 

Ganyadjigowa laughed. After a while he said: "I want to ask 
you a question. What is the world made of? " Gaasyendiet'ha turned 
around, feeling cross, but he did not answer. Then Ganyadjigowa 
continued, " Do jou believe people who say a man lives up in the Blue 



^^i^l^i] FICTION 241 

Sky ? " Gaasyendiet'ha looked at him but did not answer and kept 
on smoking. Then Ganyadjigowa said, " Do you believe this world 
stands on the Turtle's back i '' Gaasyendiet'ha, now angry, said, " Did 
I not tell you not to talk to me? " Ganyadjigowa said, " Yes; I am 
going to be quiet now." Gaasyendiet'ha kept on smoking. Then 
Ganyadjigowa said, " Do you believe Hawenniyo "- made the things of 
the world?" There was no answer. Ganyadjigowa spoke again, 
saying, " Well, do you believe the old folks who say that Dagwa- 
noenyent is still alive?" Gaasyendiet'ha said nothing; he merely 
turned and looked at him, then he turned back, still smoking. Gan- 
yadjigowa said once more, " Do you believe the old folks who say that 
wind goes everywhere ? "' Gaasj'endiet'ha sprang up, saying, " I will 
throw you out. I told you not to talk to me." Ganyadjigowa said, 
" I am going to be quiet now ; do not throw me out." Believing him, 
Gaasjendietiia sat down. But after a while Ganyadjigowa began 
once more, " Well, do you believe the old people who say that Hinon 
makes rain ? " He received no answer. Soon again he asiced, " Do 
you believe the old folks who say that trouble comes to those who do 
not answer? Do you believe the old people who say that Hanisheo- 
non^'' is alive? " Picking up a club, Gaasyendiet'ha began to strike 
Ganyadjigowa, who begged off with promises to be quiet. " No ! get 
out! I do not want you here," said Gaasyendiet'ha. Ganyadjigowa 
begged hard. Gaasyendiet'ha became cool and quiet again. Gan- 
yadjigowa, laughing, said, "W^henever I say anything people get 
cool." In the middle of the night Ganyadjigowa spoke again. AVhile 
Gaasyendiet'ha was still sitting by the fire smoking, he asked, 
" Do you believe old folks who say that water runs day and 
night?" Gaasyendiet'ha did not answer. After a while Gan- 
yadjigowa said, "Do you believe that trees grow?" Gaasyendiet'ha 
stood up; he was very mad. Ganyadjigowa said, "Oh, do not be 
mad. I merely want to know things." Gaasyendiet'ha asked, " Do 
you believe Hawenniyo is alive?" "No," replied Ganyadjigowa. 
" I do," said Gaasyendiet'ha. " Do you not believe he made the 
woods?" Gaasyendiet'ha asked. "No; Hawenniyo does not make 
anything because he is not alive," declared Ganyadjigowa. " Do you 
not believe the wind goes everywhere? " asked Gaasyendiet'ha. " He 
goes only just outside of my person," said Ganyadjigowa. "Oh! 
what a fool you are; the wind blows all over the world," said 
Gaasyendiet'ha. Ganyadjigowa said, "Oh, no; it goes merely 
around this lake." Gaasyendiet'ha said, " You can go way off there 
to that high mountain (pointing toward the east). You can not 
stand there." " Oh, yes, I can," said Ganyadjigowa. " Do you not 
believe water runs all the time ? " Gaasyendiet'ha persisted in ques- 
tioning. "Oh, no," said Ganyadjigowa; "when it is night, water 
stops." Gaasyendiet'ha said, "Well, what do you believe? " 
94615°— 18 16 



242 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32 

Now, (fanviidjigowa began seemingly to believe just as Gaasyen- 
diet'ha did. Then Ganyadjigowa inquired, "Do you believe trouble 
will come if I tell you something, and you do not mind me ? " " How 
can you make trouble for me? You have to die before I do," declared 
Gaasyendietiia. " I do not want to make trouble foj you. Other 
things will do that," said Ganyadjigowa. Gaasyendiei'ha replied, 
" Go to sleep. I do not want to talk all night." Gaasyendiet'ha still 
sat by the fire smoking. Soon Cianyadjigowa said, "Do you know 
anything when you are asleep ? " No answer. Again he asked, 
"What woidd you do if AVind shoidd come here?" Flashing up, 
Gaasyendiet'ha said, "Now go! I do not like you." Ganyadjigowa 
began to beg, but Gaasyendiet'ha, seizing him by the hair, pushed him 
outside. " Oh ! let me go in. I will stop talking now," pleaded 
Ganyadjigowa. Gaasyendiet'ha would not listen. " Go away I or I 
will kill you," he said. Ganyadjigowa started off. Then he thought: 
" That man did me ill. I wish I had magic power to blow down his 
lodge"; but he kept on. Gaasyendiet'ha began to follow. Ganya- 
djigowa heard somebody coming. Looking back and seeing Gaasj'en- 
diet'ha, he went into a hollow tree. Gaasyendiet'ha knew where Gan- 
yadjigowa was, but to fool him he went back a short distance and 
hid himself. Thereupon Ganyadjigowa said: "That is the kind of 
man I am. He did not see me." So he started on. Gaasyendiet'ha 
followed again, and seeing Ganj'adjigowa, said, " Now I have you, 
and I am going to kill you." "Oh, no ! I do not want to make trouble 
for you," replied Ganyadjigowa. " Yes, you do!" — and they began to 
dispute. Gaasyendiet'ha said : " I will ask you a question. How can 
you make "Wind blow down my lodge?" Ganyadjigowa answered, 
" Oh ! I do not know how." " Well, why did you ask the question, 
' AVhat will j'ou do if a heavy wind blows away 3'our lodge?'" 
inquired Gaasyendiet'ha. " I did not say that," declared Ganyadji- 
gowa. "What did you say?" demanded Gaasyendiet'ha. "I said 
there was a wind around the lake," was Ganyadjigowa's reply. 

" Do you believe that the earth can go down into the water? " asked 
Gaasyendiet'ha. " No; the earth is always on top of the water," said 
Ganyadjigowa. " Do you believe the earth is on the Turtle's back? " 
inquired Gaasyendiet'ha. "No; the Turtle is not strong enough to 
keep it up," declared Ganyadjigowa. "How is it kept up?" came 
the question. " Oh ! the earth is very thick ; nobody knows how 
thick," asserted Ganyadjigowa. "I believe the Turtle is strong 
enough to keep the earth up, and when he gets tired the earth will 
sink down," Gaasyendiet'ha said. "Why, that is just what I believe," 
Ganyadjigowa said. "No; it is different. You do not believe as I 
do." declared Gaasyendiet'ha. " Well, do you know what I believe? " 
asked Gaasyendiet'ha. " The old folks used to say that you believed 
the earth never goes into the water," was Ganj'adjigowa's rejoinder. 



CURTIN. 



] FICTION 243 



Gaasyendiet'ha asked, "Well, do you believe that I can kill you?" 
" Yes, yes ! " said Ganyadjigowa, while he kept backing away. Gaasy- 
endiet'ha threatened, " I will kill you now." " What have I done, 
that you should kill me? " demanded Ganyadjigowa. " You told me 
that I believe the earth is very thick," said Gaasyendiet'ha, turning to 
go home. Ganyadjigowa kept on laughing, and said, " That is the 
kind of a man I am." Now, Gaasyendiet'ha, on hearing this, came 
back quickly, and shaking him, threw him on the ground, whereupon 
he cried out : " Oh, my friend ! do not kill me. I am always on your 
side." "Xo; I will not stop until I kill you," said Gaasyendiet'ha. 
Then he thought : " Why do I kill this man ? Soon Hanisheonon 
will come around and punish me for it," so he let Ganyadjigowa go. 
Ganyadjigowa, laughing, said, " That is the kind of a man I am." 

Now Gaasyendiet'ha grew very angry, and caught him by the neck, 
saying, "Go far away west." Going through the air, Ganyadjigowa 
fell just where the sun sets. As he fell he said : " Oh ! what fun to 
be in the air. Now, where is that man? He does not believe any- 
thing." Gaasyendiet'ha heard him, and, flying through the air, came 
to the spot where he was and asked, "What were you saying?" 
"Oh! I was saying what a nice place this is," replied Ganyadjigowa. 

Gaasyendiet'ha now caused Ganyadjigowa to become S'hodieons- 
kon. Then Ganyadjigowa traveled north, saying, " I must go and see 
where my friend lives." Seeing a great rock on which stood a lodge, 
he thought, " This must be the place I dreamed of." He went to a 
hut near by. A man sat there, vho greeted him with, " Where do 
you come from? " "I come from the Great Lake," said Ganyadji- 
gowa. Then the man asked, "Why did you come here?" "Oh! I 
was lonely at home," answered Ganyadjigowa. "Very well; what 
is your name? " he was asked. " Ganyadjigowa," he replied. " What 
is your name?" demanded Ganyadjigowa. " Djothowandon," was 
the answer. " Can I visit you? " he was asked. " No; you must go 
to my master first," said Djothowandon. " Where does he live ? " 
inquired Ganyadjigowa. " You will see his lodge on a great rock 
not far from here," was the old man's answer. 

On reaching the rock Ganyadjigowa saw the lodge that stood on 
it. Looking in he saw an old man sitting by the fire; he thought to 
himself, " This is the same man who threw me off west." The man 
turned, and, looking at Ganyadjigowa, said, "Well, who are you?" 
"I am Ganyadjigowa," replied the visitor. "What is your name? " 
asked Ganyadjigowa. " I am Dagwanoenyent," replied the man. 
"Will you let me stay with you a few days? " asked Ganyadjigowa. 
'• Oh, yes ! you may stay as long as you like. I am always glad to 
have somebody with me. I am lonely sometimes," said the old man. 

One morning Dagwanoenyent said, " Do you not want to go to see 
my servant?" "Oh, yes!" said Ganyadjigowa. They went to 



244 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. axx. 32 

Djothowandon's. Dagwanoenyent, looking around, said : " My ser- 
vant is not at home. I think he has gone to the southern end of the 
earth. A very churlish people live there. He is going to try to make 
them good and quiet. If they do not obey him, I must go to eat them 
"all." "How far is it from here? " asked Ganyadjigowa. "Oh! you 
would not get there in fifty winters," declared Dagwanoenyent. " If 
that is true," retorted Ganyadjigowa, " it will be a hundred winters 
before your servant will come back." " Oh, no ! " said Dagwanoen- 
yent; "my servant travels very fast. He will be in a place as soon 
as he thinks of it." "I do not believe that," said Ganyadjigowa. 
"Get out of here! " said Dagwanoenyent; "some people are coming 
this morning who will bewitch you if you are around here." 

Ganyadjigowa started off. Soon he saw Dahdahwat coming. 
When Dahdahwat came near he was going to strike Ganyadjigowa, 
but the latter said, " Do not kill me. I am not strong enough in 
orenda to fight you." Dahdahwat chased him and kept biting him 
until he was dead. Then said Dahdahwat, "I liave killed S'hodieon- 
skon,"^ who has great power magically. 1 will go home now." While 
on the way he saw a man coming toward him. When they met 
Dahdahwat greeted him with, " Where are you going? " " Oh ! I am 
going to see the man who was killed this morning," said the stranger. 
" Well, what is your name? " said Dahdahwat. " My name is Djoiii- 
aik," replied the stranger. " AVhat are you going to do when you get 
there?" asked Dahdahwat. "Oh, nothing!" and they passed on. 
When Djoniaik came to the spot where Ganyadjigowa lay and saw 
how Dahdahwat had bitten him, he dug many kinds of roots, and, 
making a powder of them, began to doctor Ganyadjigowa; he rubbed 
the powder over his body, and soon Ganyadjigowa was alive again. 
Ganyadjigowa said: "That is the kind of man I am. Where is the 
Dahdahwat?" Djoiiiaik answered: "Do not say that. He must be 
near by." Ganyadjigowa would not stop, but kept scolding and 
scolding, getting more angry all the time. Djoiiiaik went off. 

" Now, I must go to my friend, Dagwanoenyent," said Ganyadji- 
gowa. When he got to his friend's lodge Dagwanoenyent laughed, 
saying, "A man came here to notify me that I should go to see the 
spot where you lay dead." "Oh, pshaw!" said Ganyadjigowa; "I 
shall never die. Have you never heard the old folks say that if 
S'hodieonskon died he would soon come to life again? " " Yes." said 
Dagwanoenyent, " I have heard so. Is that why you came to life? " 
" Yes," declared Ganyadjigowa. " Well," said the old man, " I want 
you to go where the churlish people live. My servant has come, and 
he says they will never be quiet. I have heard old men say that S'ho- 
dieonskon can make churlish people quiet." "All right, I will go," an- 
swered the young man. When he came down from the rock on which 



[^^l^i] FICTION 245 



CURTI 
HE 



Dagwanoenyont's lodge was built, 8'hodieonskon, taking hold of the 
rock, tried to turn it over. Dagwanoenyent, feeling his lodge move, 
declared, " This must be my friend who disturbs me." Ganyadji- 
gowa kept at work, and at last over went the rock, breaking the lodge 
to pieces. The old man, who was wounded on the head, cried, " Oh ! 
my dear friend ; I must kill him now " ; and, getting up, he tried to 
run after him, but his head was so dizzy that he soon fell. Ganyadji- 
gowa came around the rock, and seeing the old man with blood flow- 
ing from his head, began to laugh, saying: "What does he think? 
Does he not know that I am stronger magically than he is? " Having 
rolled the rock over on Dagwanoenyent, he went on. 

When he came to the place where the churlish people lived, he stood 
near the earth lodge in which they all dwelt, thinking, "I will roll 
this lodge over." Taking hold of the end, he lifted it up. The peo- 
ple ran out, and, seeing a man standing there holding up the end of 
their lodge, they began to bite him. Then Ganyadjigowa ran with 
all his speed to get outside of the crowd. The people pursued him, 
but he escaped. "That is the kind of a man I am," S'hodieonskon 
exclaimed. 

He walked westward until night, when he came to a cliff. De- 
scending a short distance on one side, he saw a hole in the cliff' wall. 
" Somebody seems to be living here," thought he; " I will go in and 
see." Inside he found a large room in which sat an old man; then 
another room, and another, until he saw seven. "Well," asked 
Ganyadjigowa, "what are you folk doing in the cliff?" "Why do 
vou want to know ? " the}' demanded. " Oh ! I go around the world 
to make all quiet and happy," said the young man. " We do not 
believe you, and we do not want you here," they continued. These 
were all brothers — seven Sigweont. " Do you believe that Hani- 
sheonon is alive?" asked Ganyadjigowa. "Oh, no!" they said. 
" What do you believe? " the young man inquired. " We believe that 
Hanisheonon is Hayadagwennio."'-*^ Then Ganyadjigowa said, 
" Well, do you believe that the earth is thin and stands on a Turtle ? " 
" No ; the earth is thick." they declared. " Do you believe that Hani- 
sheonon made the earth?" a.sked Ganyadjigowa. "No; we believe 
that Hayadagwennio made the world," they replied. " Did you ever 
hear of anyone living covered up in the earth ? " the young man. 
asked. " No," was the response. " Now we will tell you that we are 
the fathers of Hanisheonon," said Sigweont.^* These old men would 
not believe Ganyadjigowa, who, becoming discouraged, said, "I am 
going away." 

AVhile turning around Ganyadjigowa saw a lodge in the woods. 
Disdis^' lived hei-e. Hearing a thumping noise fi-om within, Ganya- 
djigowa, looking through a crack, saw an old man who had a thin 
piece of wood into which he was jjounding something. Then he would 



246 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [kth. an\. 32 

put the wooden object into his face. " AVell, I have never seen such a 
man as that. He is making a mask," thought Ganyadjigowa. " 1 will 
take the roof off his lodge and afterward make it rain.'' Getting 
into the lodge he threw off the roof. The old man did not know the 
roof was off. Then going into the spring near by, Ganyadjigowa 
shook his wings so that the water flew high and came back just to the 
spot where the old man's lodge was. '' My lodge is getting old," said 
the old man; "the rain comes into it. I must go to sit where it is 
dry; " but he could find no dry place. " AA'^ell, what is the reason of 
this? " thought he.' Then he left his work, saying, " I will go to find 
somebody to make a new cover for my lodge." He heard a noise at 
the spring and saw somebody standing in the water. Going to the 
spring, he asked, "Well, what are you doing?" "Oh! I am trying 
to fish," replied Ganyadjigowa; "when I get the water away it will 
be easy." " Get out ! " said the old man ; " that is my spring. If you 
do not go I will kill you." " Oh ! I sun not afraid of you. You are 
too old. You are not strong magically now," was the young man's 
answer. " Well, I can kill you quickly," retorted the old man. " No; 
3'OU are too old," Ganyadjigowa declared. "Say, old man, I want 
to ask you a question. Do you believe Hanisheonon is alive? " " Oh, 
no! I am Hanisheonon myself," said the old man. "Oh, no! you are 
not. Do you believe the earth is resting on the back of a Turtle? " 
inquired Ganyadjigowa. "Xo; I am holding up this earth myself," 
said Disdis. "Do you believe water always runs?" demanded the 
yo>mg man. "That is not true; when it gets to the lake it stops," 
said the old man. " If that is what water does, the lake would 
be more than full." assert-ed the young man. " Oh ! the water goes 
into the ground again and comes out in the springs," replied the old 
man. " Oh !" said Ganyadjigowa, " I told you the water was always 
going." The old man held his head down. Ganyadjigowa asked 
again, " If mud goes into swamps will it stay there ? " " No ; I do 
not think so," said the old man. Then Ganyadjigowa said: "I will 
give you another (juestion : Do you believe what the old folk sa.v — 
that they went all over the world ? " " Oh, no ! " answei-ed the old 
man ; " I do not think so." " Well, I must go away," said Ganyadji- 
gowa; " I do not think I can do anything with you." 

After traveling a long while, one morning Ganyadjigowa came to 
a lodge. Looking in, he saw an old man, Ganenaitha,"* sitting by the 
fire. Soon the old man said : " It seems to me that my nephew is 
around here. Yes, I think my nephew is around here somewhere. 
Well, my nephew, come in. Why do you stay outside? I suppose 
you have come to visit me. Come in." " Well," answered Ganyadji- 
gowa, " this is the first time I have foimd my uncle. I will go in, 
for my uncle wants me to do so." Entering the lodge, he asked. 
"Well, uncle, what do you want? " "Oh! I just want to see j'ou to 



XJS] FICTION 247 

have a very amusing giimc which I always play when anyone comes 
to visit me. We wager our necks. I have splendid canoes made of 
white flint with which to race on the waters." " Very well," said 
Ganyadjigowa, " that is what I used to play with." The old man 
started to get the canoes, and bringing them all out, said, " Now. 
take your choice." Ijooking carefully and seeing a poor old canoe, 
Ganyadjigowa said, "This will do for me." "Oh, pshaw!" an- 
swered the old man; "that is the worst one I have; j'ou ought to 
take something better. That canoe can not help you. It will tiji 
over when you sail it." This was, however, the boat possessed of the 
greatest power, which the old man wanted to use himself. " Well," 
said the old man, " let us go there." Now the lake was a little way 
inland. When at the edge of the lake, they put the boats on the 
water, the old man saying, II au onen. The two canoes started. 
Ganyadjigowa's canoe having the greater magic power, the old man 
was left behind. AVhen Ganyadjigowa got to the other end of the 
lake he said, " Where is my uncle," and sat waiting. After a great 
while he saw the old man coming, away behind. When the latter 
came up, he said, " Let us rest until to-morrow." After a while Gan- 
yadjigowa pretended to go to sleep. The old man looking at him, 
said, "He is asleep now;" so getting into Ganyadjigowa's boat, he 
said to it, " I want you to go where the sun goes down." Ganyadji- 
gowa heard all. The boat rushed off through the air. Ganyadji- 
gowa, getting up, looked at his imcle's boat. " What a mean boat my 
uncle has," he said, then exclaiming, " I want you to go where my 
uncle has gone." Thereupon with a white flint stone he struck the 
bow of the boat. The canoe, becoming alive, went very fast, faster 
than his uncle in the old boat. While flying Ganyadjigowa com- 
menced his song, " Now we are in the race of my imcle — Onen daon- 
diyentadon nhaknoseny 

In a little while he saw a small speck ahead. As he drew nearer, 
the speck became larger and larger. At last they arrived at the place 
where the sun goes down, and the old man reaching there first, 
Ganyadjigowa said : " You cheated me. I am going to cut your head 
oif." The old man answered : " Oh ! I have not cheated you. I tried 
to wake you, but I could not, so I let it go." " Why did you come 
so far? You live way back at the other end of the earth," declared 
the young man. " Oh, that is nothing ; I came to see how the sun 
goes down," was the reply. " No ; I think you tried to get away 
from me," said Ganyadjigowa. "No; I was going back soon," re- 
torted the old man. "Well, let us go," said Ganyadjigowa. "Very 
well," said the old man. Soon they went back, whereupon Ganenaitha 
said : " Now go to sleep. I want you to stay until morning." But 
Ganyadjigowa did not sleep, but watched the old man until morning. 
Then he said, " Now, let us start. Wait until I say ' Go.' " Having 



248 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth.ann.s2 

gotten into their canoes, the old man said " Go ! " They both went 
very fast — the new boat faster than the other. Getting back to the 
starting phice first, Ganyadjigowa looked back — away off was a 
speck; this was the old man returning. When he came in the latter 
asked, " Do you know what this lake is called ? " " No," said Gany- 
adjigowa. " Its name is Ganyodaigowane, ' Great Lake.' " Taking 
out a basswood knife, Ganyadjigowa thereupon cut off the old man's 
head. 

Then Ganyadjigowa went northwestward in his own boat until he 
came to the edge of some rocks, where he saw a lodge. Soon a man 
came out and greeted him. " Well, what are you living around here 
for?" asked Ganyadjigowa. "Oh! so I can see down the valley 
where people live. When they kill game I go and steal some of it," 
came the reply. "I will give you a, name," said Ganyadjigowa; "I 
will call you Gaga." "" " Very well. I like that. I can steal better 
now," replied the man. 

As Ganyadjigowa walked along the edge of the rock he saw a 
great hemlock forest. While standing among the trees he heard 
some one saying Ilihi. " Well, who is Hihi ? " "" he wondered. Soon 
he saw someone in a tree. " Oh ! what an evil-looking man you are," 
said Ganyadjigowa; "shall I give you a good name?" "What can 
you call me? My name is good enough," said the man. " I will call 
you Hihi." Hihi laughed, for he M'as glad he had a name. Ganyadji- 
gowa came to a brook with rocky banks, and. going down to the water, 
he saw an ugly-looking old man, who said : " I am glad you are here. 
I am very hungry, so I will eat you." " Oh ! I am not good eating. 
I taste very insipid. Do not kill me," replied Ganyadjigowa. " Why 
do you come here, then? " he demanded. Ganyadjigowa answered, 
"What would you do if the rocks sliould fall upon you?" "Oh! I 
should be glad. I have wanted for a long time to be covered up," 
was the rejoinder. "Do you believe that Hanisheonon is alive?" 
asked Ganyadjigowa. "Yes," he responded. Ganyadjigowa's next 
question was, "Do j'ou believe the earth rests on the Turtle's back? " 
"Yes; I am standing on the Turtle," the man answered. "I did not 
ask you where you were standing," said Ganyadjigowa. "Well, 
then, what did you ask me?" said the man. "Nothing. I tell you 
that Hanisheonon was killed last night," said Ganyadjigowa. The 
man began to cry. He cried louder and louder until many of his 
people, hearing him. came and asked, " Did that man make you cry? " 
" Oh ! I heard that Hanisheonon was dead," he replied. Now all 
began to cry. Ganyadjigowa said: "Why do yo)i cry? You are 
free now. I should be glad." " Well, I am not glad," said the man. 
"I will give you a name," said Ganyadjigowa; "I will call you 
Genonsgwa (" Stone Giant "). 



^rjSl FICTION 249 



Gan3'adjigowa started off, after saying to Genonsgwa and to his 
people, " I should be ghid if you caught me." The Genonsgwa, who 
were angry, followed him. They ran hard but they could not catch 
him. Ganyadjigowa began to fly, going up, up, up, until he reached 
the clouds. There he saw people. "Well, who are living here? I 
never before heard that people were living here," he mused. Soon a 
man came near him who wore beautiful, downy clothes. He greeted 
Ganyadjigowa with, "Where are you fi-om? " "From below," was 
the answer. "How did you come?" was the next question. 
" Through the air," was the response. " I suppose you bring news? " 
"No; I came for amusement," said Ganyadjigowa. "What is your 
name?" he was asked. "Ganyadjigowa," he replied. "I will give 
you a name." " Very well," said the man. " I will call you S'hadah- 
geah. This place where you live is strange," declared Ganyadj igowa. 
"Yes; I can see all over the world," came the answer. "Well, how 
can I see? " said Ganyadjigowa. "Look right straight down," the 
man said. Ganyadjigowa, looking straight down, saw all over the 
world. It did not seem far down. Ganyadjigowa asked, "Do you 
know the man who lives by the side of the lake down there? He is 
u very mean man." " You must not do anything to that man," re- 
sponded S'hadahgeah; '"' "he has great orenda (magic power). He 
is chief of all gods. We are afraid of him. You must go now. Tlw 
Wind is coming. It will kill you if you sta}' here." 

Thereupon Ganyadjigowa went straight down. Then looking 
around, he saw somebody coming out of the ground. Going to the 
spot, he said: "What are you doing? AVhy do you live in the 
ground ? " " Oh ! I have always lived there. You need not bother 
me," came the reply. "I will not bother you," said Ganyadjigowa; 
I came merely to ask you a question : Is Hanisheonon alive? " " No; 
Hanisheonon is, I think, not alive. I believe Hanisheonon is mag- 
ically a great power," said the man. " Well, do you know where 
Hanisheonon lives?" inquired Ganyadjigowa. "Yes," was the re- 
ply. "Where is the place?" continued Ganyadjigowa. "Eight in 
the ground. That is why. I live' in the ground," said the man. 
"Well, do you think you have the same power as Hanisheonon?" 
he was asked. "Oh, no! " he replied. "Can you kill the people? " 
again queried Ganyadjigowa. He answered, "Yes." "Have you 
a name?" asked Ganyadjigowa. "I do not want a name," he said. 
" Well, I will give you a name anyhow. I will call you Onoqgont- 
gowa," ^°^ said the young man. The man hung down his head ; then, 
raising it again, he said, " Can you call me another name ? " " No ; 
that is the name that suits you best. You are bad-looking," said Gan- 
yadjigowa. The man cried (i. e., buzzed) — he was a winged Djihons- 
donqgwen.'"^ " Well," said Onoqgontgowa, " when they talk about 
me, they shall say Onoqgontgowa." 



250 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32 

Traveling on, Ganyadjigowa came to the lodge of Gaasyendiet'ha, 
in which he saw an old man asleep. Ganj^adjigowa went in. The 
old man, waking up, began to sing, " Now he has come." Ganyadji- 
gowa thought, " Why does he sing about me ? " Gaasyendiet'ha said 
to himself: " Oh I I have the backache. AVhy have I got it? Where 
is my friend, Ganyadjigowa? I would like to see him — he is such a 
strange fellow." Ganyadjigowa looked around the room, and seeing 

'a mallet, began to hit the old man on the head with it. The latter 
said, " I believe mosquitoes are biting my head," whereupon Ganya- 
djigowa hit him again. " Well, it seems to me I hear Ganyadji- 
gowa talking," said the man. He turned over — sure enough there 
was Ganyadjigowa. The old man said: ''What are you doing to 
my head? W^hy did you hit me? Do you suppose I will let you 
pound me?" "Oh, no! I did not strike you. I will call you my 
grandfather, and we will be good friends," said Ganyadjigowa. 
"Very well; sit at the other end of the fire and be quiet," replied 
Gaasyendiet'ha. Ganyadjigowa sat down. After a while he asked, 
"Do you know who planted the trees?" "Yes; the man in the 
blue sky," was the reply. " Oh, no ! I planted them all," said Ganya- 
djigowa. The men talked along as they had done the first time at 
Gaasyendiet'ha's house. At length Ganyadjigowa asked, " What can 
kill you ? " " Oh ! a flag stalk that grows in swamps. If you strike 

■me with that it will kill me," answered the old man. Ganyadji- 
gowa went out to hunt for the flag and found a stalk. When he 
came back, the old man was eating wild cranberries. Ganyadjigowa 
hit him with the flag, which he thought went into his body, for the 
old man's face was all red from the cranberries. Turning, Gaasy- 
ondiet'ha asked : " Why do you strike me ? You hurt me." Ganya- 
djigowa, laughing, said, "The old man's mouth is all bloody." 
Thereupon he ran away because he thought the old man was going 
to die. 

Soon Ganyadjigowa saw a lodge in the side of a high rock. He stood 
before it, thinking. "How can I throw that lodge down?" Soon 
the man living there came down and they greeted each other. Gan- 
yadjigowa asked, " Why do you live in the rock? Will it not fall? " 
" No," the man replied. " What would you do if a hard rain should 
come? Can you live on the level land? " was Ganyadjigowa's next 
query. " No ; I always live on the rocks. When I talk everybody 
hears me," said the old man. " Go up and let me hear you talk," 
commanded Ganyadjigowa. Going up, the man said, Wiahah. 
Ganyadjigowa replied: "That will do. Come down. I am travel- 
ing and giving names. I will give you one, so whosoever speaks of 
you hereafter will call you Gwiyee."* Now I want you to be quiet 
and not chase the people." This is why Gwiyee never chases others. 



^y;^S] FICTION • 251 

Ganj'adjigowa now went home. He was proud and said: "I 
killed the old man who was called so powerful magically. I must 
go to-morrow to see him." The next morning he went to Gaasyen- 
(iiet'ha's lodge, where he heard singing. "What kind of man is he? 
I thought I killed him," mused Ganyadjigowa. The song ran, "I 
shall kill Ganyadjigowii as soon as I .see him." In a little v.-hile the 
old man, ceasing his song, began to talk. " Now I will go to see 
Ganyadjigowa and kill him." Thereupon Ganyadjigowa said, "My 
grandfather means to kill me, but I will burn his lodge," and piling 
up a great quantity of brush, he set the lodge on fire. The blaze 
mounted very high. Gaasyendiet'ha said : " I believe the lodge is 
burning. I think Ganyadjigowa is doing this." He was very angry, 
and sprang through the fire. The first thing Ganyadjigowa knew 
there was the old man, who asked, "Why did you make this fire? " 
" Oh ! I did not make it. I came to blow it out," he answered. 
Gaas_yendiet'ha continued, " Who made it? " " I do not know. I have 
just come," said Ganyadjigowa. They kept on talking, but the old 
man did not believe Ganyadjigowa and pounded him to death. 
Thereupon Gaasyendiefha whooped : " That is the kind of a man I 
am. I am the most powerful man under the blue sky because I 
have the most powerful orenda." The people all over the world, 
hearing his outcry, exclaimed, " Ganyadjigowa is dead ! " 

48. Hadent'heni and Hanigongendat'ha^"' 

In old times two young men living in a village were great friends, 
and on this account everybody disliked and shunned them. They 
could find no lodge in which to live, hence they said to each other: 
" Since everyone dislikes us, the sooner we get out of this place the 
better." So at last they went toward the south. 

On the way, whenever night overtook them they looked around for 
some place where dry leaves had fallen, so that there they might 
rest comfortably. All they had to eat at first was evergreens and 
lichens. Having made bows and arrows, they killed small birds. 
The young men were at this time about 20 years old. After they 
got out of the thick woods they came to marshy ground, but they 
still kept on. Occasionally one would say to the other, " I am afraid 
we shall never get through this rough place," but his companion 
would encourage him. and on they would go. 

One day about noon they came to a large hemlock tree. " Climb 
up and look around," said one; " See if there are any people in sight." 
The limbs of the tree came almost to the ground, hence he climbed it 
easily. From the top he saw a beautiful trail leading from the 
tree through the air. He called to his companion, " Throw down 
your bow and arrows and come up to see what a splendid trail I 



252 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32 

have found." Tlie latter went up, and looking at the trail, said, 
" Let us try it and see where it leads." They looked in every direc- 
tion but saw no woods in any direction. It had been necessary that 
in whatever they undertook to do they should be of one mind. As 
they were now of one mind, they started off. The trail proceeding 
from the tree seemed as solid as if on the earth, and it extended as 
far away as they could see. 

The young men traveled on without knowing that they were going 
up until they had reached another world, which seemed very pleas- 
ant. The leader said, however : " Do not stop. Let us go on and see 
where the trail w ill take us." On the road there was plenty of game, 
but tliey gave no heed to it. After a while they came to a bark 
lodge out of which smoke was rising. One of the young men said, 
" It is customary for travelers to call at a lodge on the road and find 
who is living there; let us look in here." The elder went in first. 
The lodge was of bark with a piece of bark suspended for a door. 
Pulling this aside, they saw an old man sitting within, who saluted 
them with : " I know the trouble you have had to undergo and how 
people disliked you; it is I who have called you. You shall stay 
with me a short time. You have come from the lower world. When 
there, you often spoke of the higher world, and I influenced you to 
follow the trail that leads up here. Now, come into my lodge and 
make a short sta_y, for I have promised to go elsewhere. As soon as 
you are gone, I shall go." The young men went into the lodge. The 
speaker, who seemed about middle-aged,' continued : " You people 
down there often speak of an Elder Brother in the sky. I am he 
who makes light for you. I am Kaahkwa, the Sun. Hawenniyo com- 
mands me, saying that I must give you light. This is my resting 
place, but I can stay here only a short time. Whenever you come 
this way, you must stop. I am always here at midday." Thereupon 
he started toward the west, sa_ying, " I go under the earth and come 
out in the east, and when j'ou reach the next lodge you must stop." 

They parted, and the two men soon came to the second lodge. 
One said to the other, " We must call at this lodge, as the Sun told 
us to do." The lodge looked exactly like the other. Entering, the 
young men saw an old woman, to whom they said, " How do you 
do, grandmother?" "I am thankful that you have come," said 
she ; " it was your brother who sent you here. It is now time for 
you to eat. You have been long without food." In one part of 
the room they saw a bark bowl containing boiled squash, which 
was evidently just out of the pot. They sat down, and the old 
woman gave each of them half a squash and a quarter of a loaf of 
corn bread, saying, " This will be enough for both." " No," 
answered one of the young men ; " there is not more here than I 
can eat." The old woman replied : " It is enough ; when j'ou return, 



cruT 

HEW 



;V^^] FICTION 253 



stop and I will give you more. It is I whom people down below 
call the Moon." When they entered her lodge, she was sewing 
skins. She continued : " It is the order of Hawenniyo that I make 
light for people on the earth, so that they can see at night. It is 
only at certain times that you see me completely. I tell you now 
that you must be on your guard, for the path before you is full of 
danger and difficulties. You must be brave and must never look at 
anything not in j-our path, for your enemy is outside of it; never 
heed anything you see or hear, for if you do, you ai'e lost. You 
will soon pass this dangerous path, but remember my advice." 

As the young men traveled on they saw all kinds of fruit and game. 
The first would call out,'"'* "Stop! come and eat; this is very good." 
But keeping in mind the old woman's words, they paid no heed. 
Each fruit had a phrase of its own, with which it begged the young 
men to come and eat it. After they had passed this place, they said, 
" Perhaps we are out of trouble now ; we shall soon come to the lodge 
where the old woman told us to stop." 

After passing the first place they came to another. The first fruit 
was full of witchcraft or enchantment; if they had eaten of it, they 
would have become bewitched. At the second place, however, after 
eating plums and huckleberries they felt refreshed. The old woman 
had told them that animals were numerous along their path, but they 
passed these without harm. 

After a while they saw another lodge in the distance, whereupon 
one of the young men said : " We are now in the place where we shall 
meet the greatest difficulty. We have no idea of our own except to 
follow the advice given ; since we have set out to come and are here, 
we must endure what we meet." They talked in this way until they 
came to the lodge. Finding a man who called himself their tincle, 
ihey saluted him. He said: "I am glad that your brother has sent 
you. You are going to a large assembly, but you can not join it 
unless I transform you." ^°' One of the young men responded : " How 
so? We are men. Why should we be transformed? We have come 
here in our proper forms. Why should we change ? " " You have 
come here as you are, but it is my duty to prepare you to enter the 
assembly of this upper world." replied the man. 

The other young man, looking steadfastly at his uncle, was not 
frightened nor discouraged. The old man, going to another part 
of the lodge, brought a long strip of bark, which he laid out length- 
wise, saying, " The first that came shall be transformed first." There- 
upon he called him to come and lie on the bark. When the latter 
had done so, the man asked, "Are you ready?" "Yes," was the 
young man's reply. At that moment the uncle blew through his hand 
on the young man's head, separating the bones and flesh, which fell 
in two heaps. The other nephew, who stood looking on, saw that the 



254 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

uncle separated the parts of every bone, and after wiping them, put 
them aside, cleaned; and he thought, "My luck is hard. I am alone 
liere; my friend is gone. That must have been very painful." After 
every bone had been wiped and put in place, the old man said to the 
one yet unchanged, " Now, be ready." Then he blew through his 
hands on the head of the skeleton with force sufficient to send the 
.skeleton a long distance. Thereupon the skeleton again became a 
man, ready for the as.sembly. This was the way in which each man 
had to be purified. 

The .second nephew, not wishing to be treated in that manner, did 
not go forward willingly. But when the uncle was ready he gave 
the word, when it seemed that the nephew could not hold back. 
Lying on the bark, he was treated as his friend had been, while the 
latter in turn looked on. Because he was not so willing to sul)mit, 
the body of the second youth was more difficult to clean. The old 
man washed and wiped each bone. The flesh remained in a heap by 
itself. The uncle took more uncleanne.ss from this nephew than from 
the first. After he had finished the cleaning, he put the bones in 
place again, and saying, " Take care," blew on the skull with such 
force that the skeleton was shot off a long distance, becoming a 
beautiful young man. The uncle said : " Sit down. You are now 
transformed. Now let us go outdoors and I will try you." 

Going outside the lodge, the three stood in the clearing. At that 
time a deer was feeding on the grass, and the uncle told one of the 
young men to catch it, while to the deer he called out, " Be on your 
guard; my nephew is going to kill you." The deer sprang off, but 
had made only a few boimds when the young man seized it. Seeing 
how he caught the deer, and knowing that if he could catch a deer 
he was fit for any race, the uncle said, " You are now ready to join 
the people of this world." Then he told the second nephew to catch 
the deer, at the same time calling to the deer, " Look out ! if you 
are caught, you will lose your life." The deer sprang off, but the 
young man, soon overtaking it, brought the animal to the old man, 
who said : " You also are ready. You can now go to this great 
assembly and see what you can do." 

They started but had not gone far when they saw a man approach- 
ing. They saw him go down into a little hollow ahead and come up, 
walking very fast. As they met he said to them: " You have come, 
brothers, and the object of your mission shall be accomplished. Your 
Elder Brother wished you to come, so now you shall go with me to 
this great assembly. He who has charge of it is the same person who 
made the lower world, from which you have come. As you can not 
well go alone, I have been sent to conduct you." They went at what 
seemed to the young men incredible speed. Soon they could hear a 
noise as of a great many voices, which increased continuallj'. The 



CURTI 
11 EW 



','?t] fiction 255 



man said : " It is the sound of mirth from the assembly." When they 
drew near there seemed to be a large settlement. The man said: 
" Your sister has her lodge off at one end of the settlement, and your 
brothers are there, too; but you can not go into their lodge. You 
have not died "^ yet, so you must pass through the same change as 
they have done in order to enter their dwellings." As they went along 
they felt a great desire to go in but knew they would not be ad- 
mitted. They inhaled the odor of every flower on their path. After 
a while their guide pointed to a Long Lodge, saying : " That is the 
lodge of Hawenniyo,"' who made the world below and who allowed 
you to come here. We will sit on the threshold, and afterward we will 
go in." The Long Lodge, which was built with very low walls, was 
hung inside with boughs, Avhich gave out a delightful odor. As the 
air moved a perfume came from the flowers and herbs -stithin. On en- 
tering they saw a great many people who had come to praise Hawen- 
niyo and to have part in the Green Corn dance. These people never 
noticed that two beings of human flesh and form were present, be- 
cause the young men had been purified. A man came out of the as- 
sembly and proclaimed from a high place what things were to be 
done. The guide said: "This is the one wliom you call Hawenniyo." 
The young men looked on with great wonder to see so many dancing 
together. During an interval in the dance the guide said : " You un- 
derstand, probably, why you have been allowed to visit this place. It 
is here that those who are good in the other world come when they 
die. Now, I will go back with you. When you reach home you shall 
tell your people what you have seen since I first met you."'^° The 
guide then turned back, and the young men went on alone. 

The youths traveled very swiftly, calling at each place at which 
they had stopped when coming, but only to return thanks, as they 
were now on the way home. On reaching tlie Sun's lodge, the Sun 
said : " You are going home now. It is I who caused you to come 
hither. You have been traveling 10 days. What we call one day 
here is a year in the other world. Ten years ago you started from 
your home below." When they got back to the lower world they 
were 30 years old. The 10 years seemed no longer than the interval 
between going in the morning and coming in the evening. The Sun 
took them as far as the hemlock tree from which the trail began, 
where they found their bows and arrows sticking in the ground, cov- 
ered with moss. As the Sun took them in his hand he wiped off the 
moss, and immediately they were as new as if just made. He said 
that the peo])le of the place where these travelers lived had moved 
away, adding: "I will direct you to them." In those times a mile 
was as far as a man could see, and it was 12 " looks " from the 
hemlock tree to the site of the settlement. When they came to the 
end of 12 " looks " the Sun said, " This is where you started." Here 



256 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. S2 

clearings and little hillocks where corn had grown were still to be 
seen where formerly grass was growing everywhere. The Sun said : 
" You will find your people 12 ' looks ' farther on ; when you come 
to the first lodge you must ask the old man whether he had heard 
years ago of two boys who were lost, and learn the number of years 
from that time until the settlement moved. If he gives you no in- 
formation, go to the ne.xt lodge, where you will find an old woman; 
ask her the same questions. Now we must part." 

The Sun turned back and the boys went forward. After a time 
they came to a clearing, in which they saw a village. As the Sun 
had commanded, they entered the first lodge. They called the old 
man sitting there grandfather and talked with him about many 
things. At last one asked, " Do you remember that in times past 
two young men went from your village and were lost?" The old 
man held his head down for a long time as if thinking; finally, 
raising it, he said : " For what reason you ask me this question I do 
not known, but two young men did disappear. It was said that they 
were lost, but it was never known in what way." " How long ago 
did this happen? ' the young men asked. "At the time they were lost 
the settlement was forsaken; it is 10 years ago," said the old man. 
The old chief told the young men that they must not stay any longer 
in that place because their grandchildren might suffer the same kind 
of loss. The old man continued, " There is a woman in "the next 
lodge who can tell you more than I can." The young men went 
there. "How do you do, grandmother? We have come on a visit," 
said one of them. Their first question was, " Why did the people 
leave the old village? " "Two young men did not die, but they dis- 
appeared." replied the old woman ; " the country was blamed for it ; 
the people thought it must be inhabited by some evil thing, which 
took off their children." The young men listened, thinking they 
could perform what had 'been given them to do. Then they said, 
" We are the two whom you lost then, and now we have returned." 
"How far did you go, and where?" asked the old woman. "It is 
against our orders to tell you alone, but let an assembly be called, 
and we will tell there all that we have seen. Let the people know 
this, and that there will be dancing; then they will be sure to come. 
There was nothing but mirth whei-e we went." The old woman said : 
" It is the duty of the man who lives in that lodge yonder to notify 
the people of such gatherings. I will go and tell him." " Very 
well," replied the young men ; " the account of our journey is very 
important, for none of our people will ever see what we have seen 
and i-eturn to tell the tale." "' Thereupon the woman told the old 
man that two men had entered their village with important news, 
and that a meeting of the people must be called. The old man 



ZTr^] FICTION 257 



hewittJ 



stai'ted out, and on coming to a certain spot he called, Go' we! Go' we! 
and continued to call thus until he reached the end of the village. 

Soon all the people assembled, whereupon the chief went to the 
two strangers. Entering the old woman's lodge, he said, " Let the 
work be done." As they came to the place of the gathering, the 
people looked upon the young men, who seemed to them a different 
kind of people. They did not recognize them. The chief said: 
" These men are here with messages. Whence they have come no 
one knows, for we are not aware of any people living in the world 
but ourselves " (this was true, for they did not know that other people 
existed, and therefore were surprised). The chief having sat down, 
one of the men rising, said, " Listen all." (He was the one first trans- 
formed, had been first in all things, afterward, and so was now first 
to speak.) After thanking the people for assembling, he said: "I 
wish to ask you a question. Did you, while living in the old village, 
lose two young men ? " Then he sat down. An old woman, rising, 
replied : " I will answer that question. Two young men, despised 
and shunned by all, disappeared and have not been seen since," and 
she took her seat. Then the old man whom they had visited rose, 
but he could not say much. The young man last transformed, stand- 
ing up, said : " We are the two who disappeared. No one cared for 
us; we felt grieved and we departed. We have been to the other 
world, and also in the southern world, and we have now returned. A 
guide came with us to our starting place. It was through your 
wickedness that you left your old homes. Yoti are like animals of 
the forest; when their yoimg are old enough they are left to them- 
selves. As soon as we were large enough, we were left alone and 
desolate. The birds build homes for their children but soon leave 
them ; you will see that whenever the young bird meets the mother it 
will flutter its wings, but the mother passes it by. We, like the young 
bird, were happy to meet you, but you did not want to see us. At the 
time we went away we were young, but we are now men. What is 
your opinion of what has happened ? Will it be customaiy hereafter 
to desert homeless children? " (It appeared that the two wanted 
to be received into the gens.) His companion, having listened to 
his speech, said : " Let this be the starting point. Whenever a poor 
family are rearing children and the parents die, never forsake them." 
The men then told all their adventures to the gi-eat assembly; that 
they had visited the Long Lodge and had seen Hawenniio; that they 
had been directed to describe to their friends in the lower world all 
that they had seen. Then they told the people that they must learn 
the dances which Hawenniyo wishes his children to know, namely, 
the Green Corn dances. One young man was to sing the songs he 
had heard in. the upper world, while the other was to teach the people 
94615°— 18 17 



258 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 82 

how to dance to the songs. The second one to be transformed became 
Hadent'heni, the Speaker, and the first, Hanigongendat'ha,''^ he who 
was to explain the meaning of everything touching Hawenniyo. 
The transformed said further, " Let it be that whate\'er was done 
in the upper world shall be done down here." So they danced, and 
the people adopted the rules laid clown for them at this time. Thus 
their religion was formed and the people grew prosperous. 

After a time the two young men said, " Let us continue our jour- 
ney." Going on, they found many villages, and spoke to their 
people. This is why the people are religious today. These men 
were good, doing right in all things that the people might follow 
their example. At length they said : " We have finished our work, 
for we have been over the entire land. We have spoken righteous- 
ness and justice to all the tribes." 

After returning to their birthplace they said: "Let us go south- 
ward — south of the hemlock tree. All the people north of it have 
been visited." On the journey they said, " Our food must be game." 
They built a fire after deciding to camp and to go out to hunt. 
Then they hunted in many places. On one of these expeditions the 
speaker saw among the trees a strange being dodging around some- 
what like a man. As he approached, the stranger stopped, saying, 
"I am glad to see you, grandson; let us sit down. (The stranger 
was very youthful in looks, though he thus indicated himself as 
grandfather.) I have been sent to tell you that you and the other 
people are in great danger. This is all I am permitted to tell you ; 
but come! — we will visit an old man, who will answer all ques- 
tions." The speaker, arising, followed the stranger, for he was 
curious to know whether there were really people so near. On com- 
ing to a clifl', the stranger said, " We live down there." Looking 
closely, the man saw an almost invisible trail, which they followed 
to the bottom of the ravine, where thfey came to an opening in the 
rocks. When about to enter, the stranger said, " Leave your bows 
and arrows as you do when you go into other lodges." They went 
through the first opening, then through a second. In tlie second 
room they found sitting an old man and woman, to whom the 
stranger said, " I have brought your grandson." The old man 
answered: "We have met several times, but you have never been 
able to know it. I wish now to caution you, for you and your people 
are in great danger. The danger comes from your companion, 
who has gone far into the forest. The Ganiagwaihegowa is on his 
trail, and is coming to devour you. You are in my lodge now, 
so I may tell you to defend yourselves. Tomorrow at noon the 
enemy will be at your camp. He is filled with powerful orenda 
(magic power), and we shall have to suffer on your account. If 
you do not act as I tell you, we shall all die. We have tried many 



l^I^Si] FICTION 259 

times to destroy this Ganiagwaihegowa, but he is so filled with magic 
power that we can not kill him. My advice is this : ' Go home and 
make some basswood manikins; your friend has returned to camp 
and will help you. When the manikins are finished, put them at 
the door in front of your brush lodge, each holding a bow and 
arrows. When Ganiagwaihegowa approaches you will know the 
creature by his roar. Be ready with your bows and arrows; you must 
have trees felled in the path in front of the manikins. Ganiagwai- 
hegowa's life is assailable only in the soles of his feet. When he 
comes near, he will be raving with anger. As he raises his foot 
in crossing the log piles, you will see a white spot in the sole ; there 
is his heart. Strike it, if you can, for there only will a shot take 
effect.' " 

Going back to camp, the man cut down a basswood tree, from 
which, with the aid of his friend, he made two manikins, obeying 
the old man in everything. They sat in their brush lodge until noon 
the next day. Then they heard Ganiagwaihegowa roaring far off in 
the ravine, whereupon they grew weak. Gadjiqsa ^" had told them 
to keep on the leeward of Ganiagwaihegowa so that he might not scent 
them. They were frightened but said : " We can not rur. away ; we 
can not escape, as the only chance we have for our lives is to kill the 
bear. If he overcomes us, he will scent the way to our village and 
kill everybody." As the bear came in sight, he looked frightful. 
Whenever he came to a tree, he would jump at it, tearing it to pieces. 
The smaller trees fell merely at his touch. Every time Ganiagwai- 
hegowa -roared the men, losing their strength, were ready to drop to 
the ground. When, however, he passed their hiding place on his way 
toward the manikins, in a terrible rage, and raised his feet in cross- 
ing the logs, one of the men shot at the white spot, and as he was 
going over the second log, the other man shot him through the other 
foot. The pain made Ganiagwaihegowa rage fearfully. He bit the 
manikins through the body; then, turning, he went through the 
lodge, tearing it to fragments, but a little farther on he fell dead. 
Coming out from their hiding place, the men cut off his iiind legs. 
Gadjiqsa had said that if they failed to do this, Ganiagwaihegowa 
would come to life again. As they cut off the feet, they saw that the 
whole body was quivering. The ribs were not like those in other 
animals but formed one solid bone. After skinning the bear, the 
men cut his hind quarters into pieces, which they burned to ashes 
together with all the bones, for the old man Gadjiqsa had said, "If 
even one particle of bone is left, Ganiagwaihegowa will come to life 
again." He had said also, " The hide must be smoked thoroughly 
over a fire, otherwise it will retain life and become Ganiagwai- 
hegowa himself again." The youths did exactly as they had been 
told. 



260 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth.ann.s2 

After this adventure the young men continued to hunt. While 
one of them was out he met a man, who said to him, " Come with me." 
Going with him, he found that the stranger was one of the Gadjiqsa 
people. The old man who had told him how to kill the great bear 
had said: "You have saved all the people; after killing you the 
bear would have killed us and would have gone to your village and 
destroyed everybody. Hawenniyo has given us power to aid men; 
it is my wish that you and your people should prosper. If this bear 
had destroyed you. he would have destroyed all the people in the 
world. If I had not told you, we should all be dead now. It is for 
you to thank us, as well as for us to thank you." He added : " But 
there is another enemy to conquer. When you leave your present 
camp you will go on until you come to a river. There you will camp 
again, but be on your guard as you travel." 

The young men soon set out again. When they reached the river 
they put up a little lodge. As one was building a fire the other went 
to look for game. The man making the fire could hear someone talk- 
ing very loud, as though making a speech. Going in the direction of 
the sound, when he came near he saw the speaker in a valley below 
the hill. He looked cautiously, so as not to be seen by those below. 
There were many people. In the center on an elevated place stood 
the speaker, who said : " Tomorrow we start on the trail leading to 
the place from which the two men have come. At the joufney's end 
we shall have a great feast." The man on the hill listening under- 
stood that these people were Stone Coats'" and that they were going 
to his village to eat all the inhabitants; he drew back, frightened at 
the great number of them. Scattering the brands of the fire, he put 
it out. When his friend, on coming back, asked why he had no fire 
he said : " Do not talk so loud. There are many peopk down under 
the hill; they are Stone Coats, who intend to destroy us. We must 
get out of their way." Peeping over the hills, the hunter was so 
frightened that he said. " We must hurry home," whereupon, making 
a start, they went as far as they could that night. Soon they heard 
the sound of the approach of the Stone Coats — the noise was like 
thunder. It was evident that they traveled faster than the two men, 
for when they camped that night the men were but a short distance 
ahead of them. The chief of the Stone Coats said, " Tomorrow we 
must be at the village." One of the men said, " Run with all speed 
and tell the people what is coming." The other, hastening to the 
village, said, " The Stone Coats are coming and you shall surety die, 
but do not die without a struggle." Returning, he reached his com- 
rade that day, so fast could he rim. The comrade said, "I shall stay 
near the Stone Coats, stopping when they stop. They have but one 
more halting place, and at each place they hunt." That night the 
Stone Coats' chief said, '" No one must go far; if he does and is away, 
he will lose his share of the feast." The two men were listening and 



CURTI 

HEW 



J^] FICTION 261 



heard what the chief said. They could devise no way of saving 
themselves or their people. The people in the settlement, bewildered 
with fright, ran from place to place, not knowing what to do. The 
Stone C/oats were near the village, when the chief said, " Let us halt 
and rest a little." 

The two friends sat on the bank of the river, on the leeward side 
so that they could not be scented. All at once they saw a man 
with a smiling face. When he came up, he said : " I will help you ; 
I will save your people. I will conquer the Stone Coats, for Hawen- 
niyo has sent me to aid you. I will go alone and fight for j'our 
people." Telling the people who were running for their lives not 
to be afraid if they heard a frightful noise, with a smiling face he 
went down the bank into the valley where the Stone Coat army had 
halted to rest. Soon a terrible noise was heard, as of a desperate 
battle, and the two men, who had been commanded not to move, but 
to sit and listen, could see steam rising above the hill from the sweat 
of the Stone Coats.^^'^ Then the sounds came only at intervals and 
were not so loud, and finally they ceased altogether. The watchers 
saw the stranger with the smiling face coming up the hill. He said : 
" I am thankful that I have destroyed them. The Stone Coats are 
all dead, and the people now alive will live in peace. I am ap- 
pointed by Hawenniyo to open the way and the paths to his peo- 
ple on earth. Wherever there is sorcery among your people, I am 
always sent against it. We are sure to kill all we pursue. If a witch 
crawls into a tree, we shoot the tree until it opens and the witchcraft 
comes out. It is I whom you always hear called Lightning or 
Hinon," i. e., Thimder. 

He left them, whereupon the two men went to the place where 
the Stone Coat army had been. Only piles of stone remained. The 
stones found all over the earth are remains of this battle and the 
killing of the Stone Coats. Thus, it was through the two trans- 
formed young men that our forefathers were saved from death and 
enabled to live to a great age. They foretold what was to be as it 
is today, and at the present time we hold to the teaching of these 
men, who had their religion from the upper world. 

49. Dagwanoenyemt 

Once some men in a village were preparing to go on a hunting 
expedition. Now, in the old times, as far as can be traced back to 
the forefathers, some men had luck and others had not. 

Now, in the village in which these men lived was a young man 
who was somewhat foolish — not strong in mind — as people thought. 
Knowing that the men were getting ready, he went to one and an- 
other asking leave to go with them, but no one would let him go, 
for they considered him foolish, and hence unlucky. ' 



262 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann. 82 

After all had left, a young woman, who took pity on him, went 
to him and said, " Let iis be married and go hunting." They got 
married and went to hunt, camping in the woods. The man could 
not kill any big game; only squirrels and such creatures. He made 
traps to catch deer, which he placed around so that the deer might 
get their feet into them. One morning when he went to look at his 
traps he heard some one crying like a woman. The sound came 
nearer and nearer. At last he saw a woman coming with tAvo little 
boys. She was crying, and as they came up she .said: "Help me! 
for we are going to die. One of my little boys stole a feather, which 
he pulled to pieces. Now we are going to die for that feather. I 
want yoTi to kill that hawk on the tree over there, and when the per- 
son whose feather my little boy took comes, throw the hawk at him, 
saying, ' This is your feather.' " 

The man killed the hawk, and had no sooner done so than he heard 
a terrible roar and noise, and the trees fell, and a man came and stood 
on one of them. This man had terrible eyes and long hair; that was 
all there was to him — just a great head without a body.^^* The young 
man flung the hawk at him with the enjoined remark. Catching it, 
the latter said, " Thank you," and was satisfied. This woman was a 
panther and the children were her cubs, but she seemed to the man 
to be of the human kind. She said that she lived among the rocks 
and that Dagwanoenyent lived near her, being her neighbor. Once 
whil* he was away from home her little boy went into his place, and 
getting his feathers, spoiled them. When Dagwanoenyent came 
home he was very angry and chased them. Then the panther told 
the man that she knew he was poor and that no man would hunt 
with him, adding, " Now, t will help you, and you will get more 
game than any of them. I do this because you helped me." After 
that he killed more game than any other hunter in the woods. 

50. The Shaman and His Nephew 

In times past a noted shaman and his nephew dwelt together in 
a lodge in the forest. 

One day, when the nephew had grown to manhood, the imcle said 
to him : " Now, my nephew, you must go to the lodge of the chief, 
who has two daughters whom you shall marry. When you go you 
must wear those things endowed with orenda (magic power) which 
I wore when I was a young man." The shaman here referred to a 
panther-skin robe, a pouch of spotted fawn skin, and a pipe deco- 
rated with a manikin. Among other things the uncle brought out 
these, bidding his nephew : " Now, test your ability to use them. See 
what you can do with them." First the nephew placed in the bowl 
of the pipe red-willow bark which had been dried for the purpose. 



CIMtTI 
HEWITT 



^] FICTION • 263 



Then he took out the manikin, which at once ran to the fire and, 
bringing an ember, put it into the pipe. Now the nephew began to 
smoke, and as he smoked he expectorated wampum, first on one side 
and then on the other. The uncle said to him: "That will do very 
well. Now you must don the feather headdress that I wore when I 
was a young man.'' On the top of this headdress was a duck which, 
when tlie headdress was not worn, drooped its head, seeming not to 
be alive, but which, as soon as the headdress was put on, held up its 
head and became alive. After the nephew had put on the head- 
dress the uncle said to him, " Now you must tell the duck to speak." 
Addressing it, the nephew said, " Oh, my duck, speak ! " and at once 
the duck called out in a loud voice. Thereupon the uncle said: 
" Nephew, the two young women are thinking of you at all times, 
for they feel that they will prosper if you marry and live with them. 
When you are at their father's lodge j'ou must go on a hunting trip 
and must take one of the young women with you. When you are 
out in the woods the woman must lie down and must not see any- 
tliing. She must lie with her head carefully covered. Then you 
shall sing, and all the wild animals will come around to listen to your 
tinging. You may kill only such as you desire." " But," he added, 
" the young woman must not look at them ; if she does, sometliing 
evil will happen." "' 

The nephew, wearing his uncle's garments and feather headdress, 
started for the chief's lodge. It was night when he drew near the 
village in which lived the chief, and thinking it would not look well 
lor him to arrive at the lodge after dark, he decided to camp for the 
night in the forest. For this purpose he chose a fallen tree, near 
which he kindled a fire. Early in the night a man came to the fire, 
saying: "My nephew, I am traveling. I am going to the village 
near here, but.it being now late. I think I will stop with you at your 
fire. In the morning we can go on together. So I will remain on 
this side of the fire, opposite you, and I will relate stories of what 
has happened to me during my life to pass the time away." The 
young man unwarily agreed to this proposition of the stranger. 
Then the man who called himself uncle began to tell stories, and 
the young man would respond at times. But at last, growing sleepy, 
the latter stopped making responses, whereupon the self-styled uncle 
remarked. " Nephew, I think that you are asleep." The young man 
did not make reply. Then the stranger stirred the fire, and blow- 
ing sparks from it on the young man, called out, " Nephew, I think 
that sparks of fire are falling on you." But as the young man did 
not move, the uncle saw that he was fast asleep. Going over to 
the side of the young man the stranger shook him, saying, " You are 
asleep and sparks of fire are falling on your clothes; so you would 
better remove them so that they will be safe." This awakened the 



264 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.32 

young man, who arose and undressed himself, and laying his gar- 
ments in a safe place, carefully covered them with hemlock boughs. 
The stranger had an old skin robe with the fur all worn off, which 
he told the young man to use as a covering for the night; this he did. 
Returning to his side of the fire, the self-styled imcle began again 
to tell stories, to which thp young man responded for a while, after 
which he again became silent. Knowing that the young man was 
asleep, the stranger went to the place where he had concealed his 
garments and, after removing his own, put them on, leaving his own 
soiled things in their stead. The stranger knew where the young man 
was going, and knew also the orenda (magic power) of the garments 
and pouch belonging to the latter, so he had determined to secure 
them for his own use. In the morning when the young man awoke 
he discovered that he was alone, that his garments and pouch were 
gone, and that in their stead remained the well-worn and soiled 
things of the wily old stranger who had visited him the night before. 
Naturally, he was sad and deeply humiliated, but he determined to 
don the shabby garments of the stranger and to finish his journey 
to the lodge of the chief. 

When the old man was dressed in the garments and headdress of 
the 3'oung man, he looked well, so when the sisters saw him coming, 
they said, "At last, our man is coming to us." But on looking more 
closely at him, the younger sister, becoming suspicious, decided that 
he was not the man they had expected. Hence, when he entered the 
lodge, leaving the side of her sister, she went over to the other side 
of the fire. The man took his seat beside her elder sister, who said 
to her : " Why do j-ou leave me now ? You have been wishing that he 
would come, and now that he has come, you leave and go to the other 
side of the fire." The younger sister, however, remained firm in her 
conviction that he was not the right man. The chief notified the 
people to go to the lodge of public assembly to meet his new son-in- 
law and to see him smoke. In response to this invitation all the peo- 
ple assembled. The man arrayed himself in the stolen garments for 
the purpose of convincing the people and the chief that he was pos- 
sessed of great orenda; but for him the times were out of joint and 
ill-omened. A beautiful piece of buckskin was spread on each side 
of him to receive the expected wampum. But the duck that sur- 
moimted the stolen headdress appeared to be lifeless, for its head 
hung limp. Drawing the pipe out of the pouch and filling it with 
dried red-willow bark, the man told the manikin to bring an ember 
to light the pipe. The manikin, however, did not move. He spoke 
to it a second time, but it did not move. Then he said to the people, 
" Mj' manikin is shy because of the great concourse of people." 
Reaching out, the man took an ember which he placed in the hand of 



i°/JS] FICTION 265 

the manikin, but without result; finally he himself put it into the 
pipe. Then he began to smoke, but he spat no wampum, and merely 
soiled the piece of buckskin. 

After the people had left the assembly lodge and returned to their 
homes, the chief's younger daughter went out to gather wood. While 
walking leisurely along looking for fuel, she saw smoke arising in 
the distance. When she reached the spot, she found there what was 
apparently an old man, who was fast asleep with his head drooping 
against a log. Spittle was flowing fi-om his mouth, which, when it 
fell on the ground, became wampum. Astonished, the younger 
daughter ran home to tell her father what she had seen. He 'at once 
sent her back to bring the strange man to the lodge. Carefully 
gathering the wampum, she informed the man that her father had 
sent for him, and that he must therefore accompany her to the lodge. 

Soon after the elder sister and her husband reached home from 
the assembly lodge, they seated themselves on one side of the fire. 
In a few moments the younger daughter and the man, old in ap- 
pearance, entered the lodge and took seats on the opposite side of 
the fire. Then the husband of the elder daughter said to his wife, 
" Your sister should be ashamed of herself for having that old man." 
Thus all spent the night together. The next morning the husband of 
the elder daughter went to hunt. In the evening he returned with a 
dead bloodsucker rolled up in leaves, which he told his wife to cook. 
Slicing it into small bits, she did so, and prepared some burnt corn- 
meal to go with it. Her husband told her to take the fat from the 
top of the kettle and pour it on the meal. This she did, and then 
passed some of the meal to her sister; but as the latter was taking 
it, the elder sister drew it back, with the remark, " I would willingly 
give it to you, but I do not like the looks of your man." 

In the morning of the next day the husband of the younger daugh- 
ter said to the other man : " I should like to change garments with 
you. I shall wear them only part of the time, and you part of the time. 
Hereafter you shall be called by my name." The other person agreed 
to the proposition. As soon as the change was made, the husband 
of the younger daughter became a fine-looking man. He told his 
wife to have her father assemble the people in the lodge of assembly, 
tor he was going to smoke. All the people gathered at their accus- 
tomed place of meeting. The floor was swept clean, for there was no 
buckskin to put down, as the other husband had soiled such pieces 
as were available, which were still hanging up to dry. The husband 
of the younger daughter sat down, with his wife on his left side and 
with his pouch leaning against the seat. As he threw back his 
head, his pouch came to life and held up its head, and he said, 
" Speak, my duck ! " At once the duck came to life, and, holding up 



266 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

its head, began to sound its usual note. Then, taking his pipe from 
his poucli and filling it with dried red-willow bark, he sent the mani- 
kin to bring him an ember for a light. The manikin brought the 
ember, and after the pipe was lighted, the young man smoked. 
While doing so, he spat first on one side and then on the other; the 
spittle at once turned into beautiful dark wampum, which rolled all 
over the fioor. The people scrambled after it, picking up as much 
as they could. 

When the husband of the elder daughter, who had gone on a hunt, 
returned, the .young man said to him, " I shall keep the garments, 
for tomorrow I shall take my wife and go to hunt." So in the 
morning he went into the woods. After reaching his destination in 
the forest, he said to his wife, " I will show you something." Hav- 
ing found her a fine place for a shelter, he bade her lie down and 
cover her head, and refrain from looking out at what was going on ; 
for if she did so, something evil would certainly befall him. Obey- 
ing her husband, she covered her head. Then he sang, " Now, all 
you wild beasts, come here to this place." In obedience to his song 
they all came — bear, elk, and deer — jumping, hurrying, and rushing 
on. All the young man had to do in order to kill them was to 
point his magical finger at any one he desired to secure, whereupon 
it fell dead. Then he sang another song, " Now, all you wild beasts, 
go to your homes" — all vanished as quickly as they had come. 
When they had gone, he said to his wife, " Now you may arise and 
uncover your head." On getting up and looking around she saw 
on every side all kinds of game lying dead. Her husband said to her, 
" Now, let us go home. You may tell the people that they may have 
as much meat as they desire." 

On their return home the younger daughter informed the people 
of her husband's invitation to take all the meat they required. So 
many people went to the place of the hunt, where after skinning and 
cutting up the game which the young man had killed, they carried 
it home. Seeing eveiy man in the village carrying meat and venison, 
the elder daughter asked her sister, " How does your husband kill so 
much game?" Her sister answered, "Your husband stole his gar- 
ments, but now he has recovered them, and j'ou see what he can do 
with their aid." The elder sister i-eplied, " I will turn my husband 
away and marry yours." So when her husband returned .she charged 
him, saying : " You stole this young man's garments. Are you not 
ashamed of your conduct? " Then, taking a pestle used for pounding 
corn, she drove him out of the lodge. 

When the people had eaten the meat the young man again went 
to hunt. The elder sister said, " I must go with him," but the 
younger sister answered : " You are too careless ; you would not 



ClUTIN 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 267 



obey him. You are too foolish. You took the other man when I 
knew that he was not the right one. So you should not go." But 
when the young man was ready to start she cried like a child to be 
permitted to go; and finally her younger sister said, " Go, if you will 
obey him in everything." Although he did not accept her as his 
wife, she followed him into the forest. He chose the place of their 
lodge. When it was ready he told her to lie down and cover her 
head, and not to look out until he should call her. Then he began 
10 sing, " Now, all you wild beasts, come here to this place." With 
a terrifying sound they came from all directions, leaping and gam- 
boling as they rushed onward. The young man sang all the time. 
But the woman, becoming afraid of being trampled to death, peeped 
out to see what was going on. As she did so one of the larger ani- 
mals, running up to the young man, said //o, ho, ho! and then 
carried him off on its back. Frightened, the sister-in-law leaped up 
and ran home. When she arrived there her younger sister said, 
" Where is my husband ? " " The animals carried him off," came the 
answer. Thereupon the younger sister replied : " I told you that 
you are too foolish to go to such a place, and I did not want you to 
accompany him. Now see what you have done." 

Distracted with grief, the young wife hastened to the place where 
her husband was wont to hunt. There she could see the tracks 
around and could also hear her husband's voice far in the distance 
singing, "I am deceived by my sister-in-law." Knowing just what 
she must do, she called the white deer to come to her aid. Obeying 
her pleading, the white deer"* in a moment was at her side. Ad- 
dressing it, she said, " I wish to borrow your coat at once." The 
white deer answered, " If you will place my body in a safe place and 
take good care of me, I will gladly lend it to you." The young wife 
consenting willingly to the conditions, the white deer lent her its 
coat. Thereupon she placed the deer's body in a safe place, covering 
it carefully so that it could not be found. Quickly putting on the 
coat, she became at once a beautiful white deer ; then she ran swiftly 
after the animals, passing first the hedgehog, a slow runner; then 
one after another. As she passed each would call out, Hai, hai, 
hai! It would seem that they were becoming tired. They thought 
that she was a deer, and that she would help them. Her husband 
was carried first by one, then by another animal. It was while he was 
on the bear's back that she overtook him. Leaving. the bear, the 
young husband leaped on the back of the white deer, whereupon off 
she ran ahead of all the other animals. Making a large circuit, she 
returned to the place where she had left the body of the white deer. 
There she became herself again, and giving back the deer its coat, all 
returned home in good condition and lived happily. 



268 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

51. The Horned Snake and the Young AVoman 

A woman living near Cayuga Lake had been asked many times 
by young men to marry her, but she would never consent. The 
knowledge that she was good-looking made her very proud and 
haughty. 

During the warm weather the family slept out of doors. One 
night, however, the young woman remained inside the lodge. As 
was customary in those days, a skin mantle was hung up for a door. 
In the night the young woman, awaking, saw some one looking 
through the doorway, whose face glistened and whose eyes shone. 
The face disappeared and a man walked into the lodge; coming to 
the bed, he sat down at the side of the young woman and began 
to talk. His conversation was very enticing, and she could not 
help listening to him, but she did not answer. Thinking she was 
asleep, the strange man, shaking her, asked, "Are you asleep ? " She 
did not answer. After putting sticks on the fire to make a light, he 
again asked, "Are you asleep ? " She could not longer resist, and 
drawing the mantle down from her face, said, " No."' She saw that 
he was very handsome and that even his raiment glistened. He 
spoke of taking her for his wife, promising to give her all he had, 
and saying, " You will find plenty of fine things in my lodge and 
you shall have them all." While he talked she was fast becoming of 
his mind, and at last she consented to be his wife. One man after 
another had failed to win her, but this stranger was so engaging that 
she was willing to go to him. When he left her, he said, " I will 
come for you in two days." 

The next morning the young woman's family wondered why they 
did not see her, for she was usually the first to be up. Her mother 
said, " I wonder what the matter is." Going to the lodge, she found 
her asleep. She shook her but could not arouse her. Her people 
came to see her from time to time, but still she slept. At last, on 
looking in, they saw her sitting with her head down, as though in 
deep thought. They wondered what her trouble was — had she had 
evil dreams? Finally she got up, but seemed sad, not as cheerful 
as usual. They saw that something serious was on her mind. 

As the time approached for the husband to come, the young woman 
thought, " I will put on my best clothes that I may look as nearly 
as possible like him." When the time came he appeared before her, 
saying, " I have come for you." Arising, she followed him without 
hesitation. Pointing to a hill, he said, " I live on the other side of 
that hill." On the way the young woman thought that she might 
be possessed of something evil and almost resolved to go back. The 
man seemed to know her thoughts, for looking at her he said, " You 
are mine, and we are on our way home." So she continued to put 



CUBTINj 



] FICTION 269 



her feet in his footprints. At last he said, as if in answer to her 

thoughts : " You have become my wife ; you can not help yourself. 
My home is near." They descended the wall of a precipice until thej' 
reached a large opening in the rocks. She was glad at any rate to be 
so near the lodge. Stopping again, she took council with herself and 
.ilmost resolved to go back, but an inward feeling that she must keep 
on prevailed. 

As they entered the hole in the rocks, which led into what seemed 
to her to be a lodge, she saw many fine things which she thought 
would be a comfort to her. In one corner was a beautiful skin 
couch ; her husband said to her, " This is your couch." She was 
well pleased with her new home. 

Some time passed. She did not discover that the man was differ- 
ent from other men. As soon as the sun rose every day, he went 
away. 

One day he told her that he was going a long distance, where- 
upon she thought: "Now he will be gone a good while. I will 
look around and see where I am." On going out she found that she 
did not know where the place was, nor in what direction they had 
come. She went on and on, more for amusement than anything 
else, thinking perhaps that she should find the way out, and that 
then she could reach home. At last she decided to go back into 
the lodge. She had not gone far when she heard some noise behind 
her, at which she was greatly frightened. " You need not be fright- 
ened," said a man ; " I was looking for you. Stand still, my grand- 
child, and do not be afraid of me; I am sent to tell yon of your dan- 
ger; you must do my bidding, for I pity you. Your husband is a 
great horned snake. I am going to kill him and destroy his lodge. 
You must go up in that high place yonder; sit down and watch. 
Nothing will happen to you. When you see your husband, keep 
your eyes on him and learn to know what he is." On going up into 
the place indicated and looking around, she could see no clouds in 
the sky — all was bright and clear. Suddenly, however, she saw 
beyond the place a large body of water rising, and soon it was as 
high as the hole in the rocks which led to her home. Then she 
saw approaching the rocks a great horned snake with glistening 
face. She was frightened when she looked on this creature and 
knew it was her husband. Just as its head was inside the rocks, 
she heard a terrible thunder clap; lightning struck the rocks and 
they were all blown to bits. Then the water subsided. After a 
while the old man came, sa^nng : " Your husband is killed. There 
are three of us. We know that you are under evil influences now, 
but we will try to save you. You can go home, but you must be 
purified first." "While he was talking the other two came. Tha 
old man told her to take off her clothes. She knew that she had 



270 SENECA EICnON, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. an.n. 32 

to do as he had requested. Taking up a small vessel, he gave her 
to drink a portion of what it contained, and then rubbed the rest 
of the contents on her back about the loins. In a short time three 
large snakes pa-ssed from her reproductive organs, whereupon the 
old man remarked, " You are now saved from the evil orenda with 
which you have been afflicted." To [lurify her further he gave her 
a beverage which caused vomiting. The matter which she threw 
up consisted of worms, ants, maggots, and all kinds of foul creeping 
things. While living with her husband her mind had been so much 
under his spell that she had believed that the food which he gave 
her was good and wholesome. The three men, now satisfied, said 
to her : " You are at last thoroughly purified and freed from the 
evil power of your husband and his people; so you can return to 
your home, which is seven days' journey from here" (when she made 
the journey with her. husband it seemed to her but a short distance). 
Then the old man said to her : " I am he whom your people call 
Hinon. You must marry one of your ow-n people, one who is older 
than you are, for the younger ones are filled with witchcraft; and 
you must tell your friends all that has happened to you, for if you 
do not do so, you will undergo the same misfortunes again." There- 
upon they took her home ; while on the way it seemed to her that they 
were flying through the air. 

The morning after i-eturning home her people found her lying 
in the lodge. Her family were all delighted that she had returned 
to them safe. AVhen they had found she was missing they had 
seai'ched for her everywhere, but had never been able to find even a 
trace of her. She related to them her adventures, telling them how 
she had become the wife of a great horned snake, and how she had 
been rescued from it by Hinon, their grandfather. 

When her grandfather, Hinon, had left her at the lodge doorway 
he had given her a basket, telling her to fill it with native Indian 
tobacco, saying, " For with this plant we cleanse ourselves." He told 
her further that from time to time she should leave a small quantity 
of the tobacco in the woods, which he would get as a grateful offer- 
ing to him. 

52. The Man PuRStTED by His Sister-in-Law 

Two brothers lived together in the forest. Every day the elder 
went out to hunt, but he never brought home game or flesh of any 
description. The younger brother noticed, howevel", that his broth- 
er's back bore bloody stains just as if he had been carrying freshly 
killed game; so he decided to watch him, that he might see what he 
did with the game he killed. 

One day while the younger brother was watching he found that, 
when returning with game, a w-oman approached from a side path 



CURTIN 
HEWITT 



] FiCTiosr 271 



and took from the elder brother the game, which she carried away. 
So the next day the younger brother started off in the direction the 
strange woman had taken. He soon came to a lodge, and on entering 
he found a young woman, who smiled and began talking to him. 

In the afternoon he started for home; but after he had gone some 
distance he saw that he was returning to the lodge which he had just 
left, and was greatly disturbed about himself. Thereupon he went 
in an opposite direction. While he was walking along, his elder 
brother, coming up behind him, said, " My brother, it is strange that 
you do not know that there is a fishhook caught in your neck." Hav- 
ing removed the fishhook and fastened it to a near-by bush, the elder 
brother said to his younger brother : " Your only safe course now is 
to escape from this place as quickly as possible. I will aid you to 
escape." Then the elder brother, causing the younger to become 
small, after opening one of his arrows introduced him into it, and 
iifter securing him there, told him, "When the arrow strikes the 
ground, quickly get out of this arrow and then run for your life." 
Then he shot the arrow off into the air. 

When the young woman drew on the fishhook she found that she 
could not pull it to her; following along the line, she found that the 
hook was fastened to a bush. This caused her to get very angry, and 
.she said, " Young man, you can not escape from me ; this world is 
too small for that." Thence she quickly went to the young man's 
lodge but he was not there, so she tracked him to her own lodge and 
back again to the bush. There she found the trail of the arrow, 
which she followed to the spot where it fell. On finding there the 
tracks of the young man, she pursued his trail with great speed. 
As she approached the young man he heard her footsteps and, pull- 
ing off his moccasins, he told them to run ahead to the end of the 
country; "" further, he transformed himself into a stump right where 
he stood. The pursuing woman soon came up to the stump. Halt- 
ing there, she looked up and said," Why, this looks like a man"; but, 
as the tracks of the young man apparently passed on, exclaiming 
"Why do I waste time here?" she ran on. When she reached the 
end of the country, behold ! there stood the young man's moccasins. 
Then she hurried back to the place where she had seen the stump, but 
it was no longer there. Finding, however, fresh tracks made by the 
young man, she followed them. Soon the young man heard her ap- 
proaching again, whereupon he cast a stone behind him, with the 
remark, " Let a high rock extend from one end of the country to the 
other." As soon as he had spoken the words the great ridge of rock 
was there. 

When the young woman came to the rock she could go neither 
through it nor over it. Finally she said, " I have never heard of 
this high rock; surely it can not extend across the country. I will 



272 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

go around it." So she ran to the end of the country without success; 
then she ran to the other end of tlie country, but with no greater suc- 
cess in getting around the ridge of rocks. Coming back to the spot 
whence she had started, she stepped back a short distance and then, 
rushing forward, she butted her head against the solid rock to 
break it down ; but she fell back seemingly dead. After a long time 
she recovered consciousness and, looking around her, Lo! — the rock 
ridge had disappeared; only a small stone lay there. "Oh! he is 
exerting his magic power," she exclaimed, and again she hurried on 
after him. 

When the youth once more heard her footsteps and knew that she 
was fast gaining on him he took a pigeon's feather out of his pouch, 
and casting it down back of him commanded, " Let there be a pigeon 
roost across the country and let there be so many pigeons in it that 
their di"oppings shall be so deep and high that nothing can get 
through them." Soon the young woman came to the roost and started 
to go through it, but could not do so; then she drew back, saying, " I 
never heard that a pigeon roost could extend across the world. I 
shall go around it." Thereupon she followed the roost, first to one 
end of the world, then to the other, but was not able to go around it. 
Returning to the spot whence she had started she attempted to break 
through the mass of droppings by butting her head against it, but 
she fell back seemingly dead. After a long time she regained con- 
sciousness, and on opening her eyes found a small feather lying on 
the ground. The roost had disappeared. She was now very angry 
and took up the pursuit with great speed. 

In his flight the young man came to a lake where he saw people 
bathing and playing in the water. Stopping there he said, " Let one 
of those men become just like me and let me become an old stump." 
Presently the young woman came up to the stump, but hearing the 
laughter of the bathers she saw on looking at them that the man 
farthest out in the lake was the one she was following. Seeing her 
standing there the people called to her, " Come ! help us catch this 
man who outswims us." Quickly springing into the water, after a 
long chase she caught him, but the moment she had done so he took 
his own form, whereupon she knew that she had been deceived again. 
Going back to the shore she found that the stump had gone. 

Again she followed the tracks of the yoimg man. Just as he heard 
her approaching, a man stood before him who asked, " What is the 
trouble? " The young man replied, "A woman is pursuing me." 
The stranger answered, " I will try to aid you." Stooping down, he 
added : " Get on my back. I will throw you on a hillside. You must 
run along the hill until you are forced to descend." The young man 
stepped on the back of the man Nosgwais.^^" who stretched his legs to 
an enormous length, throwing the young man off to a great distance 



CDKTI 
HEW 



"I'^j FICTION ■ 273 



on a side hill. The young woman came to the trail, where she found 
the ground soft and resilient. As she tried to advance it would 
fly up, throwing her backward. On looking around she found that 
she was standing on a toad's back. She made great circles in search 
of the tracks of the young man. At last she reached the hill. When 
the young man reached the hill he ran along its top for a considerable 
time until he slipped and fell. Being unable to help himself, he slid 
down the hill with great rapidity, so fast that he did not realize 
anything until he struck a lodge, a voice within which said, " I think 
there must be something in our trap." 

A young woman came out and, seeing the young man, lifted 
him up and took him into the lodge. " What is the trouble? " asked 
an old woman. He replied : "A woman is following me. I have long 
been trying to escape from her." " Keep out of sight and I will help 
you," said the old woman. Then the old woman, filling a kettle with 
bear's oil, set it over the fire. Soon it began to boil, whereupon she 
said, " Let this young man's face be looking up from the bottom of 
this kettle." At that moment they heard a noise outside of the 
lodge door, which opened. In came the young woman, who asked, 
"Where is the man I am following?" The old woman said, "He 
ran into the kettle." Looking into the kettle and seeing the face of 
the man, she exclaimed, "I knew I should conquer you at last; " and 
plunged into the boiling oil in order to seize him. But the boiling 
oil killed her. Then the old woman called the young man, saying, 
" The woman who was pursuing you is dead." The daughter said 
to her mother, " I will have this man for my husband." 

In the course of time twin boys were born to the young people. 
When they were large enough to run around, their father said to 
them, " You must now go after your uncle." After traveling a very 
long distance they reached a lodge, in which they found a man. One 
of the boys said, " Uncle, we have come for you." The old man, 
after making ready, accompanied them. When they arrived at the 
home of the boys, the younger brother greeted his elder brother 
with, " I am glad we are able to see each other again." Then one of 
the boys said, " Grandmother, we want j'ou to marry this man, our 
uncle." She replied, " So it shall be." So they were married and 
all lived happily together. 

53. The Story of Bloody Hand 

According to tradition several tribes of the Iroquois claim the 
honor of having produced a great man. whose name was Bloody 
Hand, and whose fame as a hunter was not less than his reputation 
as a bold and resolute war captain. 
94615°— 18 18 



274 ■ SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. » 

Now, Bloody Hand had great love for the birds of the air and the 
animals on the earth that eat Hesh. He greatly respected them and 
paid them marked attention. When he had killed a deer while out 
hunting he would skin it and cut the meat into small pieces; then 
he would call Gaqga '^^ to come to eat the flesh. When he killed an- 
other animal, he would dress it in like manner and call Nonhgwat- 
gwa'^^ and his people to come to eat the flesh which he had given 
them. Sometimes he would carry home a portion of the game he had 
killed, but generally he gave it all to the various birds and animals 
whose chief food is flesh. 

According to a Seneca legend a number of Seneca warriors went 
on a warlike expedition against a tribe which was hostile to them, 
and it so happened that Bloody Hand was one of this warlike band. 
In an encounter with the enemy he and a number of others were 
killed and their remains were left on the ground. The body of 
Bloody Hand lay in the forest stark naked; the enemy, having 
scalped him, had borne away the scalp as a great trophy. 

The birds of the air, having seen Bloody Hand killed and muti- 
lated, held a council at which they bemoaned the death of their 
Inunan friend. Finally one of the assembly said : " Let us trj' to 
bring him back to life. But before we can begin to resuscitate his 
body we must recover his scalp, which hangs before the door of the 
chief of the enemy who killed him. Let us send for it." The as- 
sembly after agreeing to what had been proposed with regard to the 
preparations necessary to bring their friend back to life, first sent 
the Black Hawk to secure the scalp. Having arrived at the place 
where hung the scalp, Black Hawk was able by means of his sharp 
and powerful bill to break easily the cords that held the scalp; 
thus securing it, he bore it in triumph to the council of the birds. 
Then one among them said, " Let us first try our medicine to see 
whether it has retained its virtue or not. We must try first to bring 
to life that dead tree which lies there on the ground." Thereupon they 
proceeded to prepare their medicine. To make it, each representa- 
tive placed in the pot a piece of his own flesh. (These representatives 
were, of course, birds of the elder lime, not such as live now.^^') In 
experimenting with their medicine they caused a stalk of corn to 
grow out of the ground without sowing seed. In this stalk there was 
blood. After noting the efficacy of the medicine they broke the stalk, 
and after obtaining blood from it, caused it to disappear. With this 
medicine is compounded the seed of the squash. 

When the medicine was made they held a sanctifying council, in 
which part of the assembly sat on one side of the tree, and the other 
part on the opposite side. The wolves and the snakes attended, also 
other animals and birds of great orenda (magic power). The birds 



SwS] FICTION 275 

sang and the rattlesnakes rattled; all present made music, every one 
in his own way. 

Above the clouds and mists of the sky dwells a bird who is the 
chief of all the birds. His name is S'hadahgeah. This assembly of 
bird and animal sorcerers chose the chief of the crows to notify him 
of all that was taking place. This is the reason, according to the 
tradition, the crow today sings the note " caw, caw." The eagle is 
another chief who is under this great bird that dwells above the 
clouds and mists of the firmament. 

When the leaders of this assembly saw that the trees and plants 
were coming to life and putting forth green leaves and waxen buds,^^* 
the presiding chief said to his associates : " This is enough. We ha^'e 
sung enough. Our medicine will now act, and we m.-.st select some- 
one to put it into the man's body." For this purpose they chose the 
chickadee. This canny bird first drank the medicine ; then going by 
way of the man's mouth into his stomach, it emitted the medicine. 
AVhile this was taking place the others were engaged in rubbing the 
body of the dead man with the medicine. When his body was well 
anointed they all sat down and began to sing. For two days and two 
nights they did not cease from singing, until they perceived that the 
body was becoming warm again. After his resuscitation'-'' the man 
reported that he felt suddenly as though he had just been aroused 
from a sound sleep; he heard the singing of the birds and the various 
sounds made by the beasts around him, and finally came to life again. 
Eemaining silent, he merely listened to the singing of the songs of 
orenda that arose on all sides. He listened because he could under- 
stand the words that were used in these chants of the sorcerers. As 
soon as iiis body began to show signs of motion the birds and the- 
beasts drew back a little, but continued to sing and chant. 

When the chief of the assembly saw that the man had fully re- 
covered his life, he said to him : " We bestow this medicine on you 
and your people. Your people shall have it for their healing. If it 
so happens that one of them is injured by a fall, by a blow, or by 
an arrow shot, he must have recourse to this medicine. You must 
make use of it at once. You must also from time to time strengthen! 
and renew this medicine by giving a feast in its honor.'^" When yow 
make use of it you must bum tobacco in our behalf and turn your 
thoughts toward us. As long as you shall have this medicine, you 
shall assemble at intervals at appointed fea.sts to strengthen it, and 
for this purpose you shall burn tobacco of the old kind. While dding 
this you shall say, among the other things : ' Let all the birds and the 
beasts on the earth and above the earth share this fragrant smell of 
the tobacco.' As long as people live and are born this ceremony- 
must be maintained to fix the use of this medicine." Thus, after 



276 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

the birds and beasts had brought the man to life, they taught him 
how to make use of the medicine and how to sing the songs that put 
it in action. Then they dismissed him, telling him to go to his home, 
where he must inform his people, through their appointed authori- 
ties, what he had learned for their benefit and welfare. Thereupon 
the man went to his home. 

The men who had seen him scalped and killed had related the story 
to their people, who believed him dead. So, when they saw him 
return alive, they quickly gathered around him, asking, " How has 
it come to pass that you have returned alive? " Then the man gave 
them, in detail, an account of how he had lieen killed, and how the 
birds and the animals, in return for the kindness which he had 
shown them at all times, had concocted the medicine which had 
brought him back to life. Then, selejL'ting a small number of wise 
men of great experience, he taught them how to use this medicine 
and confided its preservation to their custody. He strictly enjoined 
them not to make light of the songs which belonged to it; 
should they so far forget themselves as to do so, they would suffer 
great misfortune, for the songs possessed great orenda, which would 
become active against them. He told them, further, that no one 
should sing the songs unless he had some of this powerful medicine 
(which is called nigahnegahah, "small dose"). This medicine is 
still held in great repute among the Iroquois. (See Medical Note, 
p. 491.) 

54. The Seven Stars of the Dipper 

Long ago six men went out hunting many days' journey from 
home. For a long time they found no game. One of their num- 
ber said that he was sick (in fact he was very lazy), so they had to 
make a litter of two poles and a skin, by means of which four men 
carried him. Each man had his own load to bear besides. The 
sixth member cyf the party came behind, can-ying the kettle. 

At last, when they were getting very hungry, they came on the 
track of a bear, whereupon they dropped their sick companion and 
their burdens, each running on as fast as he could after the bear. 
At first the track was so old that they thought merely, '' We shall 
overtake the bear at some future time anyway." Later they said, 
"The track can not be more than three days old," and as it grew 
fresher and fresher each day, they finally said, " Tomorrow, it 
seems, we shall overtake the bear." Now, the man whom they had 
carried so long was not tired, and when they dropped him, knowing 
that he was to be left behind, he ran on after them. As he was 
fresher than they were, he soon passed them, and overtaking the 
bear, he killed it. 



CUHTIN, 



] FICTION 277 



His companions never noticed in their hurry that they were going 
upward all the time. Many persons saw them in the air, always 
rising as they ran. When they overtook the bear they had reached 
the heavens, where they have remained to this day, and where they 
can be seen any starlit night near the Polar Star. 

The man who carried the kettle is seen in the bend of the Great 
Dipper, the middle star of the handle, while the only small star near 
any other of the Dipper stars is the kettle. The bear may be seen 
as a star at the lower outside corner. 

Every autumn when the first frost comes there may be seen on 
the leaves of the oak tree blood and drops of oil — not water, but 
oil — the oil and blood of the bear. On seeing this the Indians say, 
"The lazy man has killed the bear." 

55. The Story of the Two Brothers 

Two brothers living by themselves in the forest believed that they 
were the only persons in the world. They were greatly devoted to 
each other. The younger did the thinking and the planning for 
both, for whatever he said the elder brother did. 

One day the younger brother exclaimed, " Go yonder and kill that 
turkey, for I want its feathers." " I will," answered the elder. 
So going to the point indicated, the elder killed the turkey and 
brought its carcass to his brother, asking, " What do you want to do 
with its f eathei's ? " "I want to wear them, because it will be a 
pleasure to know that I have them on my head," declared the younger 
brother, plucking two feathers from the body of the turkey, for he 
required no more for his purpose. Then he ordered his brother to 
fasten these in a socket attached to a chin band, so that they would 
turn with the wind when worn on the head. Having done this, the 
elder brother placed the socket so fastened on his brother's head. 
This gave the younger brother a distinguished aspect. 

Every night before retiring the younger brother would remove the 
chin band with the socket containing the two plumes and hang it 
on the side of the lodge. When daylight came the first thing he did 
was to fasten on his head the chin band with the socket with its 
latchet of buckskin thongs, exclaiming, " I take pleasure in these 
feathers, for I am going to have a festival in their honor." 

One day the younger brother went into the forest adjoining the 
lodge. His brother, watching from a distance, saw him go back 
to a fallen tree. In a short time the elder brother heard sing- 
ing and the sound of dancing, whereupon he said, " I verily be- 
lieve that my younger brother is crazy," for he had never seen such 
things done before. When the younger brother returned to the 
lodge his brother asked him bluntly : " What were you doing? Were- 



278 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. a:»n. 32 

you not dancing behind the tree? Why do you go so far away from 
the U)dge? You should have your dance right here in this lodge. 
Why should you go off alone? " " You do not know the tune I sing, 
and so I must sing alone," was the answer. The elder brother re- 
plied, " I should learn the tune, too, so that I could take part in the 
singing of the song." " No," declared the younger brother, " I 
know the tune, and if you want to take part with me, you may 
dance." The elder brother rejoined: "No; it is not right that I 
should dance while I have no feathers in my headgear." Answering, 
the brother said : " You may change places with me if you wish. 
Then you shall hunt the smaller game. I kill birds, and it is from 
them that I learn the songs. The animals which you hunt and kill 
do not sing; but, perhaps, I could not kill the large game because I 
am so small, and it may be that you could not kill the birds because 
you are so large." " Well," replied the elder, " you may have it all 
to yourself, and I will merely watch you sing and dance." 

So the elder brother continued to hunt large game, and at times 
"he would hear the singing and the dancing as he came near their 
liome. AA'hen the younger brother would hear him approaching he 
would pretend to be doing something quite different from dancing 
■and singing. This conduct caused the elder brother to wonder and 
to fear that something peculiar was about to happen to both of them. 
Often he would saj^ to his brother : " Why did you stop hunting ? 
You do not go to hunt any more." The younger brother answei-ed : 
^I listen to the singing of the birds and so learn their songs: this 
is why I do not shoot them." " It is well," rejoined the elder brother, 
-who continued to hunt such game as he required.. But one day his 
younger brother said to him, " My feathers are nearly worn out, and 
I want you to kill another turkey for me." So the elder brother 
killed the largest turkey he could find, and then said to his brother, 
*' Skin this turkey instead of plucking its feathers." He did as re- 
quested, and the elder brother having made a pouch of the skin, 
asked his brother, " Do you like this robe? " " I like it very much, 
and I am thankful to you, brother," was the answer. As the skin 
of the turkey began to dry, the younger brother, getting into the 
pouch, would walk around looking just like a turkey, and he seemed 
to enjoy greatly this new form of dress. When he walked into the 
lodge, he would come out of the skin, which he would hang up among 
his belongings. The elder one said to him : " Brother, you must not 
go far from the lodge: it will not be safe for you to do so." " No," 
said the younger brother, " I will stay at home and take care of our 
things." Matters continued thus for some time. 

One day the younger brother said : " You must stay at home, not 
going to hunt today. Instead, you must learn to sing my songs. 
What I do now shall be the practice of our people hereafter, if we 



CL'RTl 

HEWITT 



^] FICTION 279 



ever have any people or kindred ; hence you must learn these songs." 
So he made a rule that people of his tribe should wear feathers as 
insignia. The elder meditated on this matter, wondering how the 
younger brother could have such prophetic thoughts. " Now," said 
the youth to his brother, " I am going to sing, and you must listen 
and must learn what I sing." So he sang a war song. His elder 
brother asked him, "What kind of a song is that?" The youth re- 
plied : " It is a war song." 

From the time that the youth had commenced to study the singing 
of the birds he had begun to grow wise and had become experienced 
in the ways of the world (i. e., of the world of daimons). He kept 
saying, " These are songs which the people shall sing, and they, too, 
shall wear feathers on their heads." The people had never heard 
anyone else sing, but the youth had studied out the matter from hear- 
ing the birds sing. He declared to his brother the dangers connected 
with singing the songs, saying, " Yon must be very careful about 
singing this song; if you are not, it will bring you senseless to the 
ground." Then he added : " I am singing praises, for I have learned 
to sing from the birds. I give thanks as I have heard them given in 
my hunting expeditions. I dance to my own songs because I hear 
the birds sing, and I see them dance. You and I nuist do the same, 
for it will rouse a feeling of joy in our hearts." Thus, the youth was 
the wiser of the two brothers. 

Once when they were out hunting the younger brother saw a large 
bird sitting over them on a large tree. When the bird began to 
sing the elder brother knew that his brother must have learned a 
song from this bird, for he recognized a song which had been taught 
to him. " You are wise," said he to the youth, " and now I shall be- 
lieve that a higher magic power directs the birds to teach us songs 
which possess powerful orenda (magic power)." Thereupon he be- 
gan to sing a song of his own. which was different from that of his 
brother. " Do you think that I can dance to your song? " asked the 
youth. "I shall try, at any rate." Instead of singing it, the elder 
said, "I will tell you the words of the song, namely : ' I am glad to 
see the day dawn. I am thankful for the beautiful sunbeams.' " " I 
know what that song is," said the youth ; " it is different from mine, 
and it has not so much joy in it; whenever we ai'e sad we will draw 
our words from it; we will sing it and gain courage and strength 
thereby." 

Then the youth said, " You would better go to your hunting, and 
I will go to mine." As the elder brother was starting off, the youth 
leaped into his turkey-skin pouch, saying, " Brother, let me go with 
you." "I go so far away," he replied, "that it would tire you out, 
so I do not think you should go." But as the youth insisted on 



280 SKNECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth. ann. S2 

going, finally the elder said, " I will let you go part of the way, but 
1 can not let you go all the way, for that would be too much for you 
to undertake." So they started, the youth dressed in the turkey- 
skin garb following his brother far into the forest, whereupon the 
elder said, " I think this is as far from home as you should go ; now 
you would better return thither." So the youth, prancing around 
like a turkey, went home. The elder brother had noticed that lately 
the youth never removed his turkey-skin robe, wearing it even at 
night. Not liking to have the little fellow wear this robe all the 
time, he asked him to take it off when retiring for the night. But 
the youth replied, " You made it for me, and I like to wear it con- 
stantly." He always gave this same answer. As he dearly loved his 
younger brother, the elder did not order him to take it off. 

The youth played just as turkeys play, and when he saw wild 
turkeys he would imitate the noises made l)y them; he was learning 
all the habits of the turke}', and no longer wore feathers on his head ; 
his voice began to change and it did not sound to his brother as it 
formerly had. The elder brother wondered about and worried over 
this conduct of the youth. At last he commanded the younger one 
to remove his turkey-skin robe. He replied, " I can not take it off, 
so you will have to take it off of me." On trying to do this, the 
elder brother found he could not remove the robe, which had grown 
to the little fellow's body, so he let it alone. 

The brothers always ate together when encamped in the same lodge. 
One day the brother with the turkey-skin robe declared, " I will now 
go with you, but you must be strictly on your guard, for something 
strange is about to happen." The youth was very wise; his counsel 
and advice seemed superior to the opinions of any other man and 
beyond the comprehension of his elder brother. Once when the elder 
brother, returning, failed to find his brother at home he went to 
bed. But in the morning he heard his brother on the roof of the 
lodge making the noises which turkeys make at the break of day, 
whereupon he was convinced that the youth had really turned into a 
turkey. This conviction made him feel very strange. Soon he heard 
his brother jump to the ground and come into the lodge. On enter- 
ing he exclaimed: "Brother! brother! a woman is coming. I think 
she desires to see you, but you must be exceedingly cautious, for 
s,oniething may happen to us. By all means you must not accom- 
pany her if she asks you to do .so; but if you do go I shall follow 
you." That day when the woman came she saw in front of the 
lodge what she took to be a turkey, and eyed it carefully. Thereupon 
the youth acted as much as possible like a turkey in order to deceive 
her the more completely. On entering the lodge the woman found 
the elder brother, whom she had come to take away, and said to him, 
" I have come purposely to have you accompany me home." In reply- 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



^] FICTION 281 



ing, he said, " I shall ask my brother, to learn what he will think 
about this matter." Going out, he consulted with his younger 
brother, who had in appearance become a turkey, saying, " That 
woman has come. What is to be done ? " The answer came : " Have 
I not told you that she would come? She is a great sorceress whose 
purjiose is to destroy us. You must tell her that you are not ready 
to go today, but that you and your bi'other will go tomorrow. I 
foresee that if we go something evil will happen to us if we are not 
very cautious." Going into the lodge, the elder brother said to the 
woman, " We will start as soon as we can get ready." She did not 
once suspect that what she had taken for a turkey was the other 
brother. The brother with the turkey-skin robe decided to remain 
in the lodge that night, lest something evil might befall his elder 
brother; so he placed himself on a convenient perch, the woman 
thinking he was a tame turkey. The next morning neither of the 
brothers thought of eating anything. The elder said, " I think that 
I shall have to accompany this woman," to which the Turkey Brother 
replied : " It is very wi'ong of you to go. She is a great sorceress, 
and we can not overcome her orenda." 

The woman had come from the west, where the two brothers had 
never been. When the Turkey Brother saw the woman and his 
brother leave the lodge together, he followed them for some time, 
noting that they went westward. He said to himself, "I do not see 
why you agreed to go." The Turkey Brother was now alone. Toward 
evening he felt very lonely, and he spent an anxious night. In the 
morning he mused with a heavy heart, saying, " My poor brother ! 
The woman has taken him away; and if anything happens to him, 
I shall dream of it." After the lapse of some time he said, " Well, I 
must go after my brother." Traveling westward, the Turkey 
Brother came to an opening in the forest in which stood a lodge, 
whereupon he said, " This must be the place." The old woman of 
the lodge said : " There is a turkey outside. Perhaps it has come to 
stay with us ; it is very tame." The elder brother now knew that his 
Turkey Brother had come after him, and going out of the lodge, he 
met him. The sorceress took a fancy to the Turkey Brother and did 
not think of killing him. Toward night one of the women sought 
to place the Turkey Brother by himself for the night, but he perched 
on an open gable end of a lodge in order to be able to see and hear 
what was taking place on the inside. After the two women had gone 
s short distance from the lodge, the Turkey Brother said : " Brother, 
how can you endure the abuse which these women heap upon you? 
They never give you a mouthful to eat, for they intend to kill you. 
I have come to tell you this, for I have discovered what they are 
going to do. I am going home now, but I will take you away from 



282 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth. anx. 32 

th..'ni." So saying, he started eastward. As his captive brother 
watched him, he remarked, " It is fortunate that he can go where 
he lilces." 

On the way homeward the Turkey Brother became so anxious 
auont his brother that be grew enraged at the woman. When he 
reached home he thought of some scheme by which he might be able 
to cast oil his turkey-skin robe, for he had definitely decided in hia 
own mind that he had worn the disguise long enough. But how to 
get rid of it was the question, for it had grown to him. At last, 
however, he was able to free himself from the garment. Hanging it 
up, he put his plumed chin-band on his head. While eating his 
meal he kept thinking of his brother. Finally, he exclaimed, '' Now 
is the time I " and being in his human form, he called on his tutelary, 
the Moose, for aid. The words of appeal had scarcely left his mouth 
before the Moose stood before him, awaiting his pleasure. He said to 
the Moose : " You must go westward to the place where live the old 
woman and her daughters, who hold my brother captive. This is 
the time of day that he goes out of the lodge. I want you to save 
him — you can do so by carrying him in this way (jumping on the 
Moose's back) — and when you have him on your back, you must run 
with all your speed, being careful not to let my brother fall off. 
You must also take off your plumes (meaning his horns), put mine 
in their place; yours are too heavy for running swiftly." Thereupon 
the Moose said, " Let us try it," and after running with the little 
fellow on his back and completing a large circle, the Moose returned 
to the starting point. Then the Moose held down its head and the 
little fellow, taking off the horns, placed in their stead his own 
plumed chin-band, saying: "When j'ou return I will put back your 
plumes. Now, my brother has come out of the lodge and is looking 
for a place in which to die, for he has determined not to die in the 
lodge of the old woman. So go ! " With a bound the Moose was off 
in the direction of the lodge, and the little fellow remarked to him- 
self, " The Moose will soon be back with my brother." Before very 
long he heard a noise outside his lodge, and looking out, saw his 
brother hanging on the neck of the Moose, so weak that he could 
scarcely get him off. The little fellow pulled him by the feet until 
he dropped to the ground. Although he landed on his feet, he 
could not stand, but the younger brother managed to get him into 
the lodge. Coming out, he gave back to the Moose his horns, receiv- 
ing in return his own plumes; thereupon he dismissed the Moose. 
Then he chided his brother, saying : " I told you not to go with that 
woman, but you would not listen to me. Now you have suffered a 
great punishment, but I am glad that you are back home. Youv 
journey has caused me great trouble. We are now free from the 
woman and can now live happily together." 



■CURTI 
HEWITT 



tt] fiction 283 

56. S'hodieonskon '-' (the Trickster) 

S'hodieonskon went on a journey to distant places in visits of ad- 
venture. In the first place he came to he found a large number of 
lodges. Here he told the people that in his village everyone was ill 
of a certain disease; that the same disease would come to them, too; 
and that his people had discovered but one cure for it — all persons 
who were married slept with other men's wives and other women's 
husbands, and this saved them. Believing this, the people did as he 
had told them. 

Then S'hodieonskon started otf in another direction. When he came 
in siglit of the second ^•illage he began to call out according to the 
custom of runners, Go'weh! go'u'eh! so the people knew that news of 
some kind was coming. As tliey gathered around him after his ar- 
rival, he told them that a plague was upon the place from which he 
had come, and that if they wished to prevent or cure this plague they 
must cut holes in the bark walls of their lodges and close these by 
putting their buttocks into them, and that all the families must do 
this. Going home, the people defecated into their lodges tlirough 
these holes in the walls, whereupon S'hodieonskon mocked them for 
being fools, and thrust his walking-stick through the holes as he 
went, jeering at them, from lodge to lodge, before his departure. 

In the next adventure he met a crowd of men; this time he wore 
long hair reaching to the ground. All looked at his hair, wondering 
how he got it. When they asked him, he said that he had climbed a 
tree and, after tying his hair to a limb, jumped off. In this way the 
hair became stretched as much as he wanted. Further, they could do 
likewise if they wished. After S'hodieonskon had gone his way one of 
the men, saying, '' I am going to make my hair long," climbed a tree 
and, having tied his hair to a limb, jumped down. His scalp was 
torn off. and, falling to the ground, he was killed. The other people, 
enraged, said, "That man is S'hodieonskon; we must overtake and 
kill him." Running after him, they soon came in sight of a creek, in 
which they saw a man spearing fish. Every little while, raising his 
foot, he would pull off a fish, for he had sharpened his leg and was 
using it for a spear. They watched him take several fish from his 
leg. When they reached the bank he came up out of the water. They 
were astonished at the number of fish he had caught and asked him 
how he had taken so many. " You can all see," he replied, " I have 
sharpened my leg and use it for a spear; when I get all the fish T 
want I spit on my leg, and it becomes as well as before." Then he 
showed them how he did it. He put the fish he had speared on a 
string. Then the men wanted to spear fish, .so they a.sked him, " Can 
not you sharpen our legs, so that we may spear fish ? " After he had 
sharpened their legs, entering the water, they went to work, while he 
•disappeared. Presently they began to feel sore and had caught noth- 



284 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 82 

ing. So they all came up, and sitting on the bank, they spat on their 
legs and nibbed them, but this treatment was of no efficacy in heal- 
ing their wounds. Meanwhile S'hodieonskon was far out of sight on 
his way to a new village. 

When S'hodieonskon drew near to the third village he called out, 
Go'weh! go'weh! The people gathered around him, asking what 
had happened. He told them that in the place whence he had come 
the young men were killing all the old ones, who could be saved only 
if the women would give themselves to the young men; so the 
women did so, and nothing happened to the old men. 

S'hodieonskon then hurried to another place. When he arrived 
there, all asked what the matter was in his place. "Another sick- 
ness," he said, but he had the medicine to cure it. This medicine 
was bear's oil, which he carried in a bark bowl (it was his urine). 
He sold it to the villagers to be drunk with their food. When 
warm it crackled like salt. Although they knew it was not oil, they 
drank it. As he left the village he said that he had never seen such 
stuff eaten before, and ridiculed them. 

Continuing his journey, S'hodieonskon met a man, and they sat 
down by the trail. He offered the man a cake which corresponded 
to the oil he had just sold, but the man refused to cat it and went 
his way. 

S'hodieonskon, not to be baffled, called up a couple of bears. When 
they came to him he said : " I want you to carry me. I will rest one 
foot on one of you and the other foot on the other. We will go in this 
direction, running around until we meet a man. I will tell this man 
that I will give you to him to mount, and when he places one foot 
on each of you his feet will become fastened to your backs, where- 
upon you must go in opposite directions, tearing him apart." Hav- 
ing agreed to do this, they soon ran around ahead of the man, to 
whom S'hodieonskon said, " I have ridden these bears so long that I 
am tired of them ; if you would like, I will give them to you." They 
seemed so tame and were so fine-looking that the man gladly took 
them and jumped on their backs, whereupon his feet grew fast to 
them in a moment. After running together a little way the bears 
ran in different directions. The man, badly injured and half dead, 
finally became free from the bears. He said to himself, " Well, I 
have found S'hodieonskon." 

S'hodieonskon, having journeyed farther, met a party of young^ 
women. Stopping them, he said : " It is not best for you to continue 
on that road — it is dangerous, for when you meet a man dressed in 
hemlock boughs you must not be afraid, but must do everything he 
wants you to do, so as to keep on friendly terms with him." Going on 
through the woods, the women soon saw something moving in front 
of them, which they noticed was covered with hemlock boughs. They 



S)witt] fiction 285 

were frightened, but after a while one of them, saying "I will not be 
afraid," went straight up to him and talked with him some time be- 
hind a tree. Then she came back, telling tiie others to go, that there 
was nothing to be afraid of. So they went, one by one, and after all 
had been there he went away. One of the women whistled out his 
name and called him, but he had gone after fooling them all. S'ho- 
dieonskon and the man in the hemlock boughs were one. 

S'hodieonskon went on again, soon coming to an opening where 
there was a number of bark lodges. Going into the lodges he said, 
" There is a man coming to destroy all the people, and to escape him 
they must cover all the smoke-holes, for he has a long spear which 
he thrusts into them to spear the people." Then he invented a name 
for the man. All went to work covering the smoke-holes of their 
lodges. The chief of the village had two beautiful wives. S'ho- 
dieonskon coveted them and did not tell the chief the story of the 
man with the spear. When all the other lodges were covered and 
full of smoke, S'hodieonskon ran over the roofs, frightening every- 
body almost to death; not daring to go out, all remained half stifled 
in the smoke. At last S'hodieonskon, climbing the roof of the chief's 
lodge, speared him to death and took his wi^ es and all he had. 

In due time the funeral of the chief was held, and all came to bury 
him. S'hodieonskon, appearing among the mourners, cried, saying: 
" I am sorry for the chief ; he was a friend of mine, and now he is 
dead and gone. I am so sad. I do not wish to live. You must bury 
me with him." So they put S'hodieonskon in the ground beside the 
chief. The next day some boys who were out at play heard a man 
calling for help, his voice seeming to come from the graveyard, 
whereupon they went to the spot. The voice seeming to come out of 
the grave, they ran and told the people. The people agreed to dig 
iiim up. When they had done so S'hodieonskon, standing on the 
ground, said : " There is a very important thing to be done. I came 
back because the chief had two wives ; they mourn for their husband, 
and I feel sorry for them. I am sent back to marry the two widows." 
After talking over the affair the people said it was a great thing that 
a man should be sent back from the other world to marry the widows 
of their chief, so they consented to the arrangement, and S'hodieon- 
skon, having married them, settled down. 

57. The Cannibal Uncle, His Nephew, and the Nephew's 
Ikvisible Brother 

An uncle and his nephew dwelt together in a forest, subsisting by 
hunting. They lived in a lodge which had a partition through the 
middle and a door at each end. Neither one ever entered the part 
occupied by the other, all communication between them being held 



286 SENECA FICTIONj LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ANN. 32 

by means of conversation carried on through the partition. Each 
went in and out of his own part of the lodge whenever he liked, but 
never dared to cross the threshold of the other's room. 

After a time the nephew, a handsome yoimg man, discovered his 
uncle's true nature — he was a man-eater, an Ongwe las. 

One day a woman came to the nephew's room. The next morning 
at dawn the uncle exclaimed, " My nephew has two ways of breath- 
ing." The young man, speaking to himself, said: " M}' uncle is mis- 
taken. I am only talking to myself." " Oh ! '' said the old man, 
" My nephew can not deceive me. There are two in his room, and I 
am glad that some wild game has come to visit him." 

The old man then said that he was going out to hunt. When the 
uncle had gone the young man said to his wife: "My uncle knows 
that you are here, and now j'ou must heed my words, or he will kill 
and eat you. Three other women have been here before a'ou. He 
killed and devoured them all, for <hey disregarded my warnings. 
Now, before I go, I will lu-ing water and wood and everything else 
you want, so you will not need to go out. I will also get a vessel 
for your use. If you go out you are lost; my uncle will surely kill 
you. As soon as I leave the lodge, he will come back, for he knows 
3'ou are here." After he left the door, the 3'oung man turned back 
and again warned his wife not to disobey him. 

The moment the husband was out of sight in the woods the uncle 
came to the door. Having the power of commanding things to be 
done which he did not see, the uncle said, " Let it be necessary for 
the woman to go out." When he saw that she did not come out he 
baid, " Let the water with which she is cooking boil away." The 
water boiled away, but as she had plenty more she did nqt go out. 
Seeing this, the uncle became terribly angry, and said, " I will get 
her out in one way or another." Now the old uncle was a man-eater, 
and the nephew had discovered that instead of hunting beasts and 
birds he hunted human beings, and that everj' man or woman he 
met, he killed, and having brought home the body on his shoulders, he 
cooked and ate the flesh. The nephew hunted game, for the uncle 
had always made him find his own food. 

This day, as the young man was returning, he saw smoke rising 
from his end of the lodge, whereupon he thought, "All is well; my 
uncle has not been able to kill my wife." When he entered he 
thanked her for her obedience. In the evening about dusk they heard 
the old man come in and knew that he had brought nothing. He 
called out : " What luck has my nephew had to-day ? " "I have had 
good luck," replied the nephew. The uncle said, " I found nothing." 
Now he muttered to himself about his nephew, blaming him for hid- 
ing his uncle's game in his part of the lodge, and saying that he 



^^,«-^] FICTION 287 

would have his own. He heard the two breathing and could not be 
deceived. Determined to have something to eat, the old man pounded 
bones into small pieces and putting them into a large kettle which 
he filled with water, he made soup. The husband and wife on the 
other side of the partition did not talk. 

The nephew decided to leave the place. As he had been thinking 
of doing so for some time, he had his plans well laid. Unobserved by 
his uncle he had walked in circles around the lodge, going farther 
and farther each day. When he had made paths three days' journey 
in circuit he told his wife what he intended to do. That night the 
uncle said: " I am going to be absent two or three days. I can find 
no game in all this country about here." " Well," said the nephew, 
" hunters go where they can find something to kill, and are often 
gone many days. I, too, am going farther. Game is getting scarce 
in our neighborhood." 

The young man, being possessed of orenda (magic power), had 
caused a lodge to be built in a place distant six days' journey. He 
told his wife that he had an invisible brother in that lodge, to 
whom he would send her; that this brother was then under the 
lodge, and that no stranger had ever seen him. Hitherto this in- 
visible brother had always accompanied him, but in the future would 
assist her. Taking an arrow from his quiver he removed the head. 
Then, after shaking his wife until she was only a couple of inches 
long, he put her into the arrow and replaced the point, saying, " In 
three days I will follow you." Then sending the arrow toward the 
east, at the same instant he heard the calling of the Gwenhgwenh- 
onh ^^' (the feathers on the arrow were taken from this bird), and 
all the way the arrow sang with the voice of the Gwenhgwenhonh. 
He could see the trail of the arrow as it went through the air. 

The nephew remained in his part of the lodge, waiting, and in 
three days the old man appeared without game. When he came 
in, talking with himself, he said : " What luck has my nephew had ? " 
" Very good. I have plenty to eat," answered the nephew. The 
old man continued: "I found nothing; this hunting ground is bar- 
ren, and my eyes see no more game. But though I have no fresh 
food, I have plenty of bones here in this pile, which I shall break 
up and have a soup." Then the young man heard his uncle break- 
ing up the bones; there was a terrible racket and crushing. At last 
the young man said, " My uncle makes too much noise." " My 
nephew would not find fault if he were in my place. I am trying 
to get something to eat," came the retort, and the old man. paying 
no heed to what his nephew said, kept hard at work. The next 
morning at daj'break he said, " I am going to hunt, and I shall be 
away for three days." " I am glad," thought the nephew ; he was 
very angry with his uncle and ready to fight. 



288 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

Taking the trail he had made, the nephew followed it for three 
days before he made a straight line for his new lodge. Glancing 
up, he saw the arrow's trail, '^^ which looked like a rainbow in the 
sky. He took a long leap, and as he leaped he ran up in the air, 
far over the woods and on a level which still kept him in the air. 
As he was going along, he looked back to see whether he could dis- 
cover his own trail. The trail of the arrow, which was in the form 
of a rainbow, seemed to roll up and dissolve in a mist as he passed 
aJong, ending in the dooryard, where he had told his wife the arrow 
would strike. Entering the lodge, there he found his wife. 

One day the invisible brother saw an arrow come into the door- 
yard; striking the ground, it burst asunder and a woman came out. 
She went into the lodge, where she saw her bother-in-law, who 
said: "I knew you were coming. I am glad you obeyed your hus- 
band, for your obedience has enabled you to accomplish this great 
journey." "He continued : " You have never seen me before ; no 
one but my brother has ever seen me, and he only two or three 
times. I know what will come to us from the wrath of our uncle; 
he will pursue us and if possible will destroy you." The husband 
was six days making the journey to the lodge where his brother 
was, which was situated near a lake. 

When uncle got home and was talking to his nephew in the other 
room he received no answer; at this he grew very angry. Making 
up his mind that his nephew was not at home, he went out to look 
for his trail in order to learn which way he had gone. Finally, on 
striking the trail, he found it was some time since he had left; the 
footprints looked about as old as his own made three days before. 
Going back to the lodge he muttered : " I will follow him tomorrow ; 
the world is so small that he can not escape me. I will follow him 
everywhere." Now, the invisible brother, though a great way off, 
heard the uncle talking to himself, heard his threats: " My daughter- 
in-law will never get out of my reach. I will go to the outskirts of 
the world very quickly. I do not see why he takes her away, thinking 
she can escape; he will never succeed, for I will have her flesh." 
The invisible brother told his brother what the uncle said. 

The next morning the uncle set out. After following the trail until 
night he detorminied to go home, trying again the next day. Looking 
up, he saw his lodge was near. He had been going round and round. 
At this he was angry, and said, " Tomorrow I will get on the trail 
again." As soon as it was daylight he started. As he went on he found 
the trail was almost extinct, but he continued to follow it. He kept 
on until midday, when he found that he had not made much progress. 
He was near his lodge again. " Be it so," he said; "let my nephew 
be possessed of the sorcery of all the animals, I will have his wife's 
flesh for all that." The uncle followed the trail three days more 



^°/;;^j FICTION 289 

until at last he reached the end, whereupon he cried out exultingly, 
" My daughter-in-law's flesh is mine." Looking up in the air, he dis- 
covered his nephew's trail. While the trail of the arrow was lost, the 
footprints of the nephew remained on the clouds.'^" 

After the old man had traveled one day, the nephew said to his 
wife : " Now, we must go ; our uncle is on our trail, and he is deter- 
mined to have your life. Therefore be cautious. Do exactly as I 
bid you." As the uncle followed on the ground the trail that he saw 
in the air, he muttered to himself. The invisible brother heard him. 
All started for the beach, the woman taking the lead, and the husband 
stepping in her footprints. As they looked across the lake they 
could see smoke. The husband said, " We will go yonder to that 
lodge and stop there for the night."' As they were going along the 
beach he halted, and, taking a clamshell from his bosom, threw it 
toward the other side of the lake. At once the banks came so close 
together that the woman could step over. After they had crossed, 
on looking back the}' could scarcely see the other shore. The nephew 
had crossed to a new lodge in order to delay his uncle, thinking that 
when the old man came to the water he would be long in crossing 
and would lose the trail. Telling his wife to say nothing, the young 
man left her, to 'hunt. 

Soon the uncle appeared on the opposite bank, running back and 
forth searching everywhere. Feeling sure that they had crossed, 
he called out, " Daughter-in-law ! daughter-in-law ! how did you 
cross the lake ? " As he labored up and down the woman stood 
watching him from the other bank. Taking pity on the weary old 
man, though knowing he wished to devour her, she said in her mind 
(she did not speak), " Why does he not throw the shell?" "^ As she 
thought this, he heard distinctly what she said in her mind. So he 
stooped, and picking up a shell, threw it. The banks came together, 
and when she looked to see where he was, she was terrified to find him 
at her heels. Catching her by the hair, he said : " I knew that I 
should eat you.^^- My nephew had no right to keep the game from 
me. He took my game and held it as his wife." With one blow the 
old man cut her head off/ She had been left alone, as her husband 
was hunting, and the invisible bi'other was not near to warn her, so 
she was lost. 

The lake had now expanded to its proper width. Taking off her 
raiment, the old man threw it into his nephew's lodge, saying, 
" Be you a helpmate to my nephew." He then cut the body open, 
finding that it contained twins. He hid the children with the head 
and breast of the mother in a hollow tree, and gave thanks that his 
nephew had preserved the game so long, for he would have a second 
94615°— 18 19 



290 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

meal at another time. After washing the bloodstains from the body 
in the lake he put the body on his back and then threw the shell. 
When the banks closed together, he stepped over, and as he looked 
back, he saw the lake spread out again. 

On coming home soon after, the nephew expected to see smoke 
rising from his lodge, but saw none. " There ! my word has come 
true; she has forgotten my warning." Looking around, he saw his 
uncle's tracks, whereupon he said, " Such is my luck. I can not help 
it." Then he began to cook his meal. Shortly he discovered his 
wife's clothing. Having become accustomed to his uncle's behavior, 
he was not much astonished, nor did he feel very badly because his 
uncle had now killed his fourth wife. While cooking supper he had 
to go for water. As he stooped down to get it, he heard a voice say, 
" Your uncle has killed me. Your uncle has killed me, has killed 
me." On looking toward flie willows out of which the voice came, 
he saw them bespattered with his wife's blood, whereupon he knew 
that she had been murdered. He had two proofs now — his uncle's 
tracks and the speaking blood. Becoming disheartened, he decided 
never to go back to his uncle's lodge. He continued hunting with 
two dogs, and being successful, took pleasure in doing this. On re- 
turning to camp one day he discovered tracks around his fire — two 
little trails. For some time he paid no attention to these, though he 
found them whenever he came home. They looked like children's 
tracks, but he could not believe they were such, thinldng that perhaps 
some little animal had gotten into the lodge. At last, looking at his 
store of meat, he saw that one of the pieces was gone from the row ; 
he thought some animal must have taken it. Things continued in this 
way until finally the meat was carried away at such a rate that he re- 
solved to find out what was going on at home. The next day still 
more meat was taken. He found that the stolen piece had struck the 
ground, and having been dragged out of doors, had been drawn 
along. He followed the trail until he came to a big hollow log, at 
the opening in which the trail disappeared. While sure that some 
animal lived in the tree, he made no further discovery. 

The next day the nephew started off to hunt, but after going a 
short distance into the woods, he stopped to watch his lodge. Look- 
mg down from a hill near by, he saw two little children run into the 
lodge. Thereupon, hurrying back, he continued his watch. He soon 
saw them come out, dragging a piece of meat. (They used to go to 
where the meat was hanging, and climbing up as best they could, 
throw it to the ground.) They had all they could drag, for two 
pieces were tied together. Going straight to the farther end of the 
log, they disappeared, dragging the meat after them. He thought, 
"Tomorrow I will catch them." He had learned that they could 



Zwl^] FICTION 291 

talk, for as they pulled the meat along, he heard one say, " Hurry up; 
father will soon come." 

The next morning, after going a short distance, he hid himself 
and waited. The time seemed long. At last the children came from 
the log, and entering the lodge, closed the door. Then the father ran 
up and went in himself, fastening the door after him. The moment 
the children saw him, they began to cry. " Why do you cry," he 
asked, "I am your father. Do not cry." At this they stopped 
crying. Then he said, " You will stay here with me." As he had 
overheard them calling him father, he asked, " How do you know 
that I am your father?" As he questioned them, sitting by the 
fire, he on one side and the two children together on the other, one 
of them, who was slightly larger than the other, said : " Your uncle 
came over here and killed our mother, cutting off her head and her 
breasts. Then he threw her intestines into a hollow log. We were 
among the intestines, and as the breasts were there, we drew milk 
from them and so were able to live. Her head is there with us now. 
As the boy answered readily, the father asked him what they did 
with the meat they took from the lodge. " We come," said the boy, 
" to get the meat to feed our mother." The father said, " You must 
now live with me." He then made little ball clubs and a ball for 
them to play with in the dooryard; he was so kind that they were 
willing to stay. 

Whenever their father went hunting they would go and feed their 
mother. Once when the father came home, one of the boys said 
to him, " Our mother is very hungry, for we have not fed her today." 
The father replied : " Feed her ; give her all she will take. I have 
no objection. As you know, we always have plenty of meat, so 
you may take as much as you plea.5e to feed your mother." He 
was very kind to the children, because he loved them, and to keep 
them from running away, he let them do as they liked with what 
was in the lodge. He soon discovered, however, that his stock of 
meat was disappearing very fast, faster than he could bring in more. 
This continued until he began to feel discouraged and frightened- 
The boy said to his father when the latter retui-ned one day, "My 
mother eats all the time," telling how much she ate, and asked his 
father to go and see her. The father went to the tree with the boys,, 
and on looking in, saw two great eyes in a skull from which the 
teeth were projecting and the flesh had disappeared, and the bones 
of which were somewhat bruised. 

The boys asked. "Now-, father, what do you think?" "I am 
afraid," he answered, " that after she has eaten all our meat she 
will eat us." 

" Let us go to some other part of the world, so she will have to- 
travel far to overtake us," said one of the boys ; " we can not feed 



292 SENECA FTCTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [etu. ann. 32 

her any longer, for she never gets enough now, and we are tired." 
The man saw that, do what they might, she would not be satisfied. 
The boys said, " We will go away first if you like." The father 
answered : " You may go. Your mother has become a man-eater. 
You may escape." The next morning the boys started westward 
with the dogs. The father said he woidd not go just then, but 
that he would follow. He had to go in another direction and 
therefore would go southward first. When the children were a 
short distance from the lodge the dogs looked at them, and thinking 
how hard it was for them to trudge along, the larger dog said to 
the larger boy, "Come! get on my back;" and the smaller dog said 
to the smaller boy, " Come ! get on my back." Both mounting the 
dogs, away they went. The dogs ran so swiftly that the hair of 
the boys' heads streamed backward, and they enjoyed the ride so 
much that the woods were full of their laughter. After they had 
gone a long distance, for the dogs went like the wind, they saw 
traces of human beings. There were places where the trees had 
been cut down. The dogs said. " Now you would better slip off 
and go on foot to the settlement." The boys wei-e unwilling to go, 
but the dogs were determined, and shaking themselves, as if they 
had just been in water, the children tumbled off. Telling the chil- 
dren again to go on to the settlement, the dogs went back to their 
master. He had told them that he would leave in two days, for 
then the Head would come out of the tree and go into the lodge; 
then climbing up to the place where the meat was kept, the Head 
would eat it all. 

The boys had told their father that by going southward he would 
find uncles who might help him escape, for they were just such 
powerful men as his old uncle was. When the dogs got back to their 
master they said that he must make every effort he could to escape; 
that they would remain until the last piece of meat was gone, but that 
he must go at once. The lives of all were in danger, for when the 
meat was all eaten the Head would fly in the direction of her people, 
although they (the dogs) would stay and detain the Head as long as 
possible. " In three days all the meat will be devoured : flee for your 
life ; go south toward your other uncles, for she will follow you," the 
dogs said. 

The man did as the dogs advised, starting off southward and go- 
ing with great speed, for he was a good runner. Two days after he 
had left home one of the dogs overtook him and said: "The meat is 
all gone and she is now trying to find the trail of her children. She 
can follow it as far as they walked, but no farther, for we took them 
on our backs at a certain distance from the lodge and carried them 
far away. They are now in the west. Be on your guard. She will 
soon strike your trail and pursue you. Follow me ! The Head is 



?™J;t»1 fiction 293 



TIEWITTj 



very angry." As the dog looked back he said : " The Head has started 
and is coming. We have never seen so great witchcraft as she has, 
although we have seen much, but this we are not able to comprehend. 
As you have always said, there is no one living who can outrun you ; 
now use all your strength." 

When the Head started, the dogs left behind did all they could to 
delay her, biting her whenever she turned to pursue them, and dodg- 
ing into the ground. As the Head went on again they would spring 
at her; and when she turned on them they would again escape into 
the ground. Her track could be seen plainly, for the bark was all 
bitten from the trees, where the dogs kept her back and prevented 
her from flying ahead. 

All at once, one of the little boys, far off in the west, said to his 
brother, " Our father is to be pitied ; our mother has turned into 
some strange being and is pui'suing him." Soon a second dog came 
up to the man, saying, " Your wife has changed into a Flying Head 
and is possessed of such power that we do not know how to detain 
her any longer. My brother dog and I are doing all we can, but you 
must hurry; you must keep straight ahead. Go always toward the 
south." The man ran with all his might. Seeing a lodge at a dis- 
tance he ran up to it, and entering, said to an old man sitting there: 
'' Uncle, help me! Something is after me that is going to take my 
life. Help me ! " "All right. Although I do not know what it is, I 
will help you all I can ; but hurry on to the next lodge; there you will 
find your aunts," replied the old man. The man had got about 
halfway between the two lodges wiien he heard a terrible noise. 
Looking back, he saw that the Flying Head had reached his uncle's 
lodge, and that they were fighting with all their strength. There 
was a terrible struggle about the lodge. Soon he saw that his uncle 
was killed, and that a great black cloud rose up into the sky from the 
spot.'^^ The uncle had told his nephew that after the Head had killed 
him a dark cloud would go up to the very heavens. At tht.t moment 
the dog came up again, saying, " Your uncle is killed ; he was never 
beaten before in his life." When she had killed his uncle the Head 
rushed after the husband, for she had eaten every bit of the uncle's 
flesh in a moment. " Hurry ! " said the dog ; " we are sure to die ; we 
have but two places of refuge left. It is through your uncle who 
killed her that she has become a witch." 

As the man ran on, nearly exhausted, he saw a lodge, and running 
into it, he called to 'is aunts, "Help me! Help me! Something is 
after me to take my life." "Poor man," said his aunts, "hurry on; 
we will do what we can to delay the Head. Go to the next lodge, 
where your mothers live ; if we can not detain her, peraaps they will 
be able to help you." He was not out of sight when he heard his 
aunts call to their children to have courage, and then he heard a 



294 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann.32 

great tumult. When the Head flew into the lodge, it bit at every- 
thing witJi which it came in contact, tearing it to pieces. The women 
attacked the Head with clubs, and there came to his ears the sound of 
the blows of the clubs on the skull. When halfway to the other place, 
all was still at his aunts' lodge. 

Suddenly he heard his bi-other calling out, " Run! or we are lost." 
The invisible brother who urged him forward pushed him by the 
neck whenever he was near, and then they seemed to run faster. 
They were in a great hurry to reach tlie lodge, and he pushed him 
on until they were there. Thereupon the man called on his mothei-s, 
saying, " Mothers, help me ! help me ! " " Oh, poor son 1 you are in 
trouble; go on — we will do what we can." He hurried through 
the lodge. The Head came in as he went out, and the dog, running 
around the lodge, urged him on. The brother was invisible when 
they passed through the lodge. The mothers called out to all their 
children, " Kill the Head if you can ! " All got their most deadly 
and potent weapons, and the two brothers heard the old mothers 
urge their children to fight with all their strength. The dogs 
remained outside the door, ready to fly at the Head when she came 
out. One of the women stumbled and fell, whereupon the Head, 
after catching and hurling her out, devoured her in an instant. 

The old mothers now cautioned their children again to take great 
care and make no missteps. Now the youngest one thought of some 
bear's fat they had in the lodge, and the idea came to her that the 
only way they could kill the Head was by use of this. After the 
Head had eaten the first girl and was chasing the others through the 
lodge the bear's oil began to boil.^''* As the}' threw the boiling oil, 
it singed and burned the Head, killing it (the animated Head was 
merely the skull with long projecting teeth). 

All wishing to give thanks, the mothers said: "We ought to h-ive 
a game of ball. Your brother is free. It is our duty to give thanks. 
The ball shall be this Head." Picking up the Head, she carried it 
out, calling in a loud voice, " Here, warrioi-s ! is a ball you can have 
to play with." Soon a great crowd of j^eople came togeiher with 
their netted clubs and began to play. All the players were wild 
bea.sts of the woods. The man stood near and saw the wild beasts 
playing ball with his wife's head. All tried to get the ball, and in 
this way they wore it out. 

The dog now came up to his master and told him that his wife 
•was dead; and when it said "Your wife is dead," his strength 
seemed to leave him: his arms dropped down, and he was sad. The 
invisible brother said: "You feel grieved; for my part I am glad. 
I do not see why you should be sad; she would have devoured you 
if they had not killed her. Now there is nothing to harm us Your 



^•^EwixT]- FICTION 295 

old uncle has gone back to his own home and will not trouble us now 
that he has eaten yom' wife's flesh." He added: "Your children 
are living in this direction (pointing westward) ; be of good courage, 
and go aftei- them. I shall return. You will continue in one direc- 
tion with your dogs until you reach the boys. You need never fear 
to suffer such hardships again." So saying, he went home, and 
when the brother looked after him he had disappeared. 

The man and his dogs went toward the west. The dogs had left 
the children in a place near a village where an old woman lived with 
her granddaughter. While the young girl was in the woods gather- 
ing fuel she heard the sound of voices. On listening, as the wind 
came directly to her, she discovered that they were human voices, 
and thought, " I w'ill ask grandmother what to do." When she 
reached home with her wood she told the old woman that she had 
heard children crying and asked her to go to the woods to hear for 
herself. The old woman asked : " In what direction were the 
voices? It is a pleasure to know that there are children yet alive; 
they must be for us." They went to the place. " Now listen ! " said 
the girl. " True," said the grandmother. " Look everywhere and find 
these children; they may be sent to us, as we are alone." The girl 
followed the sound, which she could hear distinctly as coming from 
the ground. She kept on until she found the two children, seem- 
ingly a year old, one slightly larger than the other. Going up to them 
she told them to stop crying; that she would be their mother. As 
she stood there talking her gi'andmother came, who pitied the chil- 
dren; she found that they were clothed with skins. The grand- 
mother said: "Now stop crying. You shall be our children. I will 
be your grandmother and my granddaughter will be your mother." 
The girl added: "All we have shall be yours. I will love you as a 
mother." The boys stopped crying. Each had his little bow and 
arrows and ball club. The children went home with the women. 
The old woman said : " AVe will take care of these children. There 
are many people in the village, but not a child among them all. I 
lived here a long time, but have never seen a little child." The chil- 
dren soon seemed larger and sometimes would go to hunt birds. 
They were never gone long at a time, and never went out of sight 
of the lodge. " Grandmother," called one of the boys one day, " come 
and see what we have killed; it is all spotted and lies yoAder in the 
weeds." "Where is it? Where is it? " she asked. The boys led the 
way, but she could hardly keep in sight of them, as the weeds were 
tall. On reaching the spot she found a fawn, a few hours old, which 
they had killed. She carried it home, saying to herself: "I am 
thankful to have these children; they will be great hunters in time: 
their game is getting larger. First they kill birds, now a fawn." 



296 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ank. 82 

When they did not feel like hunting they would play out near the 
lodge and then go in and sit down. 

One day one of the boys said, " Our father is coming." The other 
said, " I hardly think our father is alive." The old grandmother 
overhearing this, told the boys to go out and shoots birds, for she 
wanted some to roast and eat. The next day while the children were 
out a man canie'nnto the lodge. The invisible brother had told him 
where he would find his children, and that he must say when he came 
to the old woman's lodge, " Grandmother, I am thankful to see you," 
and to the girl, " Sister, I am very glad to see you." As he went in 
he saw the old woman and saluted her as grandmother; to the girl 
he said, " Sister." One of the boys outside said, " Our father has 
come." The other replied : "I do not believe this is he, for our 
father had two dogs. There are no dogs with this man." As the 
boy was bound to know, raising the doorflap slightly, he saw his 
father sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. 
Noticing a red spot on his jaw, the boy said further: "Look for 
yourself; see, he has a mark on his face; it is really he. Let us go 
and see which way he came ; we can tell his trail, and we will follow 
it and see whether we can find the dogs." 

They had gone but a short distance when they found that the dogs 
had gone in another direction, whereupon one of the boys said: "Let 
us follow their tracks; father loves those dogs; let us find them." 
In the evening they found one dog sitting on a fallen tree. The 
larger boy said : " There sits one of the dogs." " Let us go and see if 
it is really father's dog," said the other. On hearing the children's 
voices the dogs were as much pleased to see them as the boys were to 
see the dogs. The boys now said, " Let us all go home." The boys 
did not know the way, however, so the dogs took the lead. It was 
late at night and very dark, and the people at home were frightened 
and very anxious about the children, not knowing where to look 
for them. When the boys came back, the grandmother asked : " Why 
were you gone so long? 'WHiy did you frighten us so? " " AVe were 
looking-for our father's dogs," said the}^ Thereupon they went into 
the lodge, the dogs following. The man was lying down, so all went 
to sleep. All were now together again. 

The young woman was the man's own sister and the grandmother 
was his grandmother. They all lived very happily together. And 
this is the story. 

58. DOONONGAES ^^^ AND TsODIQGWADON 

Doonongaes, who lived at one end of Ganyodaes,"'* or Long Lake, 
had such orenda (magic power) that no one in that region could 
influence or control him. He claimed the lake and all that lived in 
its waters. 



ZT.ri] FICTION 297 

Doonongaes had a servant, Skahnowa,^^' who lived at the other end 
of Ganyodaes, which was so long that one end of it could not be 
seen from the other. Skahnowa's work was to patrol the lake and 
keep oif intruders. One morning early he jumped up, saying, " I 
must be on my I'ounds, for if I do not I shall be punished." So he 
hurried along the shore ; soon he saw some one with a pole, evidently 
fishing. Skahnowa approached and, seeing him eating a fish, he 
asked, "What are you doing here? " "Oh! there is a great deal of 
fungus^"* growing on the hickory trees here," i-eplied the intruder. 
" If you are getting fungus from the trees, why do you go to the 
water?" asked Skahnowa. " You see," said the man, who was Djid- 
jogwen,"' "the fungus is sandy and I go to the lake to wash it." 
" Well," said Skahnowa : " I think you have stolen something, and you 
better give up one of your own people as a gift in payment^*" for 
what you have taken. The owner of this lake will come soon and 
he will settle with you. I am going on." Djidjogwen stood on the 
bank and kept thinking: "Can this be true? It is very strange if it 
be true that one person owns this lake." Going to his master, Skah- 
nowa said : " I have news for you. There is a man yonder at Dedio- 
steniagon "' who is getting fish out of the water very fast." " I 
will stojj him. I like to amuse myself in this way," said Doonongaes, 
who got his kettle ready at once and, taking his club, started for 
the place. 

Skahnowa continued his journey around the lake. When Doonon- 
gaes came in sight of Dediosteniagon, looking around carefully, he 
saw a man "^ some distance off. " Oh ! that is the one," thought he, 
and diving under the water he came out right in front of Djidjogwen, 
who had pulled out a great fish a moment before. " AVhat are you 
doing?" asked Doonongaes. "What business have you to meddle 
with my game animals? " "Oh! you are mistaken. I am not med- 
dling with them. I am merely eating the fungus "'' that grows around 
here," replied Djidjogwen. "Then how came that fish here? " asked 
Doonongaes. "As I stood here a small bird flew along above the 
water, and a fish, leaping up to catch the bird, perhaps, jumped out 
here on the shore," said Djidjogwen. "Oh! that is not true; I will 
punish you," snapped Doonongaes. Djidjogwen started to run. 
Doonongaes followed and, striking him on the head with his club, 
killed him, remarking, " That is the way I treat intruders on Ganyo- 
daes." He then threw the body of the dead man over his shoulder 
and, after reaching home, cooked his flesh. When the flesh was cool 
he ate the meat, which he enjoyed much, and thanked Skahnowa for 
what he had done. 

One morning Doonongaes said to his servant: "I am going on a 
long journey, and I want you to be faithful in the performance of 
your duty. If you find a trespasser, kill and eat him." " Very well," 
replied Skahnowa, " it shall be done as you say." 



298 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

Doonongaes went westward, traveling day and night for a month. 
He traveled till he came to a broad opening.^** In the middle of the 
opening he saw a lodge, which he could not reach without being 
seen. " Very well," tiiought he, " I will go undergi-ound." He went 
into the ground, and going forward until he thought he was at the 
right place he came out. Peeping through a crack in the lodge wall, 
he heard singing, and saw that there were two very old women in- 
side. The words of the song were, Onen waongi'ons ve gan'io}*-' 
" That does not sound well," thought Doonongaes; " I may get killed 
here. I will see whether I can not steal this lodge." So he pushed 
his horns under the lodge; then lifting it on his head, he rushed 
away, carrying it on his horns. He came very soon to the edge of 
the woods and ran into it. Finally he heard a noise in the lodge. 
" Well," said a voice, " it seems to me that there is a terrible wind 
blowing." (He went at such speed as to give the impression of wind 
blowing past the lodge.) The other woman said: " You must do all 
you can to stop it. Let us stand, you in one corner and I in the other 
and sing our wind song." Taking their places, they said: " We beg 
you who have care of us to stop this wind. Our lodge is so small that 
we are afraid it will blow away." Then they sang Gaintho, Gain- 
tho.^*^ One of them, seeing the lodge moving, called out, "Hivu,^" 
our lodge is moving." " Well," said the other, " maybe Doonongaes 
has come; he always troubles poor people; hurry up, go out and see." 
So she went out through the smoke-hole, and, looking around, saw that 
they were far out in the dense woods. On taking an observation to see 
whither the wind was going, she saw a long black body moving, and 
she saw that their lodge was on it. Going in, she said, "As I looked 
down the wind I saw a A'ery black thing, which was so long that I 
could not see the end of it." " It is just as I said to you," said the 
other woman ; " this is Doonongaes, who is making sport of us. Now, 
do your best to punish him." 

These two old women, who were Gwidogwido ^** people, and sisters, 
were possessed of such very powerful orenda (magic power) that 
it was hard to conquer them by sorcery. Taking their clubs, there- 
fore, they went out of the smoke-hole. Then the elder of the two 
said : " Go to the end of his tail ; something is sticking out there. 
Strike it. and I will try to cut its head off." While the younger sis- 
ter went to the tail, the elder went to the neck joint. The younger 
sister, seeing objects which resembled fins sticking out, began to 
pound these; soon she saw that she was driving them in. "What 
shall I do," thought she; " my sister said these things would crumble 
to pieces." She kept on pounding, however, until she saw that 
something like milk began to come out. She stopped striking them, 
whereupon the milklike fluid turned into foam and came out stronger 
and stronger. At last, becoming frightened, she ran to her sister, 



I7^}^i] FICTION 299 

whom she found lying down, doing nothing. She said, " Oh ! my 
sister, what is the matter? " "Oh! " said the elder, "I can not do 
anj'thing; he has overpowered me by his orenda (magic power); do 
the best you can." The younger, driving their flint Imife into the 
neck joint, began to hammer it; finally the knife went out of sight. 
Tlien she aslced her sister, "What shall we do now?" "Our only 
safety is to run away," was the answer. The younger sister, going 
down the smoke-hole, got a narrow strip of the skin of Djainosgowa. 
This was the container of their magic power, or fetish. Com- 
ing back to her sister, she said, " Now I am ready." The elder 
answered: "Take hold of one end of the skin and I will take the 
other. Then let us run to the end of Doonongaes' tail, where we 
will jump off and get away as fast as we can." It was a good while 
before they came to the end of the tail. Then jumping off, they 
hurried along, not on the straight trail but somewhat to one side 
of it. 

Doonongaes, who was running all this time with great speed, said 
at last, " I do not hear anyone talking." Then his neck began to feel 
tired, and he said, "This lodge wearies me," and jerking his head, 
off went the lodge, falling some distance away. On going up to it he 
found it empty. " Very well. We shall soon see about this," thought 
he : " No one has ever been able to get away from me. I will put 
these two out of the way." Thereupon he ran back as fast as he 
could, saying, "When could they have escaped? Oh! my neck is 
sore." As he went he snuffed the air to find the women. Halting and 
looking around he saw tracks where they had jumped from his tail, 
for the earth was torn up. "Ha, ha! you think you are going to 
escape me," he said, starting with lightning speed on their track. 
He ran until night. Toward morning he said : " The pain in my neck 
is increasing. I wonder if I should better go back. No; I can not 
give up this chase. I have always thought I could allow no one to 
overpower me, so I will keep on." At midday he came to the end 
of the women's trail, and could track them no farther. Now, he 
thought, " What shall I do, for I am determined to put them out of 
the world?" 

Standing up, he became taller and taller until at last he stood on 
the tip of his tail with his head high in the air. He saw a smoke far 
off on one side, so he came down and shot off in that direction, reach- 
ing the place in a few moments. Halting by the lodge, he thought: 
" I hear some one inside. Very likely magically powerful people 
live here." On peeping in, he saw a very old man sitting down smok- 
ing, with his head bowed. Doonongaes watched him for some time; 
at last the old man, looking up, said : ^'■Hwu, my nephew has come ! 
Well, nephew come in. Why do you stand outside? " "This is my 
uncle's lodge; it seems he knows me," thought Doonongaes; so he 



300 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.32 

\Yent in. " Well, nephew," said the old man, " I am glad to see you. 
I have been expecting you for a long time." " Well, I have come. 
What do you want?" said Doonongaes. "Oh! you and I will fight 
against each other," replied the old man. " That suits me exactly," 
answered Doonongaes; "it is the very game I amuse myself with." 
" We will wait until noon tomorrow, when the fight will begin ; you 
can stay here with me until then," said the old man. This old man 
was the grandfather of the two women who were trying to escape. 
His name was Gwidogwido. The next day the old man said, " Now, 
let us go." They went through the woods until they came to an open- 
ing, whereupon the old man said, " Here is where I always fight." 
Seeing the ground was covered with bones, Doonongaes became 
greatly frightened and asked, " Is there not some way to annul our 
pact, for I want to continue my journey?" " Xo," replied the old 
man, " we have agreed to it." " What would happen if I should 
refuse to play?" said Doonongaes. "Well, if you do not want to 
fight, give yourself up to me, and I will do what I like with you," 
answered the old man. " If I do that I suppose you will kill me; so 
we may as well fight," replied Doonongaes. 

Thereupon the fight began. Doonongaes had a basswood club, 
while the old man had a mallet. As they fought they moved aroimd 
the opening until they came to the farther end, striking at each 
other all the time. At the end of the clearing they began to tear up 
trees, which they hurled at one another. They opened a broad road 
through the forest, uprooting the trees as they fought. They ad- 
vanced until they came to another clearing, at the farther end of 
which they saw a village. Doonongaes now got another basswood 
club, for they had thrown away their weapons when they began to 
hurl trees. The old man had to defend himself with his hands and 
arms until they reached the village. There he picked up a lodge, 
which he threw at Doonongaes, whereupon Doonongaes threw an- 
other lodge at the old man. Thus they continued throwing lodges 
as they went along, until a great cry was raised by the people as they 
saw their lodges smashed on the heads of the combatants, and so all 
attacked the two men. 

The people of the village were Djihonsdonqgwen"'* people, who 
were great fighters. They determined to punish the two men, so with 
their flint knives they killed the old man Gwidogwido, but Doonon- 
gaes ran out of sight, shouting, " I have always said that nobody 
could conquer me." He added : " It seems to me that there is some- 
thing in my neck. Can it be that a limb fell on it, and a splinter 
stuck into my neck ? " 

Doonongaes went on until he came to a new lodge. " Perhaps," 
thought he, " another uncle of mine lives here. I will have a look." 
Peeping through a crack, he saw two little boys playing with a 



^^^^Itt] fiction 301 

* man's head, and heads all around the lodge with flesh on them. He 
wondered where the boys got these for they were too small to go out 
to hunt. " Perhaps they will be able to cut my head off," thought he, 
running away. A few moments later one of the boj's said to the 
other, ''Did not you think some game came to the lodge just now? " 
" Yes," replied the other. " Well, let us hurry out; we will soon bring 
it back," said the other. Taking their knives, they ran out and 
around the lodge. Seeing the trail, they ran along it until they 
were at Doonongaes's heels. When he turned and saw the two boys 
behind him, each with an uplifted knife ready to strike, he seized the 
first boy and threw his knife away. Then he did the same with the 
other boy, and putting a boy under each arm, he hurried on. As he 
went along, he saw a high precipice, whereupon he said, " Perhaps 
I had better throw these boj^s over, for they annoy me." After throw- 
ing them over the precipice, he walked on. Presently he heard " Tcu! 
Tciif that man walking over there falls (is about to fall)." Doo- 
nongaes turned around to see where the voice came from, with the 
remark, " This sounds as though they meant me." He stood looking 
around; soon he heard some one laughing, and saw a man high up 
on the cliff. " It is absurd that he should make sport of me," said 
Doonongaes; "I will punish him." Doonongaes hurried toward the 
man, who was ahead. When he came to the spot where he thought 
the man was, he could not find him, and could see no one. Soon he 
saw far ahead the man peep from behind a tree, then dart back and 
peep out again. Doonongaes ran to the tree, and going around it, 
said, " Now, I will jDunish you, you scoundrel "; but he found no one 
there. He looked everywhere. At last he saw another tree far ahead 
with the man peeping from l)ehind it. He hurried to the place, 
saying as he ran after the nuin around the tree, " I have caught you " ; 
but when he got around, he could see no one. " This is provoking," 
said Doonongaes, " he is making sport of me ; I must punish him 
without fail." 

Doonongaes sat down under the tree to rest from the chase and 
closed his eyes ; in a little while he was sound asleep. The man came 
back and, seeing Doonongaes asleep, said, " I thought this man said 
he was going to beat me." As he stood looking at Doonongaes he 
resolved to kill him. Taking out a flint knife he cut his throat. At 
first foam came from the cut but no blood; then it seemed as if 
Doonongaes blew a great breath, whereupon out came the blood 
streaming in every direction. Then Doonongaes died. " I did not 
have much trouble," thought the murderer, who was one of the 
Djoiiiaik ^^° people, " though he called himself powerful "; and sitting 
on the tree above the body he continued to laugh. 

When Doonongaes was killed his blood ran down the precipice. 
The people who lived in the ravine below said they saw it. " This 



302 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 3? 

looks like the blood of our people, like the blood of our great chief." 
The}^ iill feathered at the place where the blood was coming, and one 
of the tallest men said, " I will tr}' to look over." He stretched him- 
self up, but could see nothing except the bare cliff. Then another 
man got on his shoulders, a third on the shoidder of the second, 
another and another doing likewise until in this way they reached 
the top. Djoiliaik saw men coming, and noticing that they were the 
same kind of people as Doonongaes, he said, " The}' are so many I 
will run away." So, slipping down from the tree, he was off. 

The men looked around — there lay the great chief of their people. 
One of them, who became chief for the time, .said: "Every one of 
us must do his best (in the exercise of orenda). We will try to make 
him alive again. Let two of you build a very large fire and two of 
you go to the end of a lake for a thing that has been of great aid to 
our jjeople — the white pebble. Go quickly; and two more go to 
Doonongaes's lodge at the end of Ganyodaes, to get his fisher-skin 
pouch and bring it here ; and two of you go to the end of the earth 
and notify our grandfather, who lives there. Tell him what has 
happened and find out what he thinks about it. Let two go to the 
place where the rocks are the highest in the world, for in that place 
lives a man who is master of the thing that has the greatest power 
in the world. Let two get on the trail of the man who killed our 
chief, Doonongaes; when they overtake him, let them kill him if 
necessary, but if not let them bring him here and we will do what 
we like with him." In a short time the two appointed to make a fire 
had an enormous one burning. The two sent for the white pebble 
reached a lake surrounded by a hemlock forest that seemed, to grow 
on rocks without any earth. On looking around, the two men saw 
many stones of the kind for which they were sent. Having picked up 
the right one, they went back immediately, saying on their return. 
" We have brought what we were sent for." The new chief thanked 
them. Now all the people waited. 

The two men sent to Doonongaes's lodge reached the lake, and 
as they went along the bank, one of them said : " I am getting hungry. 
Let us have some fish." "Very well, we will catch some." replied 
the other. Soon they had a number of fish, and sitting down on 
the bank, they began to eat them raw. Skahnowa saw these men 
eating fish, so he cam? near and asked: " What are you doing? You 
are stealing my fish." "Oh. no! " replied the men; "this lake does 
not belong to you." "Well, to whom does it belong?" asked 
Skahnowa. " It belongs to the Controlling Power," was the reply. 
" No, the man who owns this lake has ordered me to watch it," 
said Skahnowa. "What is his name?" he was asked. "His name 
is Doonongaes," he replied. "Well," said the two men, "Doonon- 
gaes was killed some time ago." "Are you sure of that," asked 



CURT 
HEW 



I'^i] FICTION 803 



Skahnowa. " Yes ; we have just come from the spot where his body 
is," they said. "Where is tliat? " asked Skahnowa. "At Broken 
Land, where the hiugliing man lives. You know where that is," 
they said. "Oh, yes," answered Skahnowa; "I will go and see. 
If he is dead, I suppose I shall get possession of this lake and own 
it myself." " Take the trail we came on," said the men. Then they 
went their way, while Skahnowa took the trail along which they 
had come. 

The two men searched Doonongaes's lodge, but for a long time 
they could find nothing. At last they found in the smoke hole the 
pouch they wanted. They , took it out with them, and running 
very fast, they overtook Skahnowa when he was almost at Broken 
Land. The three went on together and in time came to the place 
where Doonongaes lay. Skahnowa, looking at the remains, said, 
" It is true that he is dead, and yet he thought no man could kill 
him, so greatly did he esteem himself." The two men delivered 
the pouch, and then sat down, waiting for the others to come. 

The two men who went to their grandfather arrived at the place 
they thought was the end of the earth, whereupon one of them 
said : " We are here. Now how are we to find where our grandfather 
lives? " The other answered, " I wonder if this is really the place? " 
They went along the edge of the water, which was only a small lake, 
not the end of the earth. Keeping on, at length they went around 
the lake. Seeing their own tracks ahead, they said : " The other 
two men have passed here. Let us go this way." After going 
around again, they said : " Two more men have come up. Now let 
us hurry and overtake them." The two had not gone far when one 
of them fell down with a great cry, saying: "I can not go any far- 
ther. There is something in my foot. You finish the journey alone. 
On the way back you can stop for me." " Very well," said the 
othei". On running around the lake still again, he said, "There are 
six men running; now I will do the best I can. Why! there is a 
man sitting ahead on the bank. Well, I thought I would overtake 
those people soon." The man who was sitting down, on turning 
to see who was running up. saw his friend. The runner said to 
himself, " Why, it looks like my friend who hurt his foot." On 
coming to him, he asked, "AA'hat are you doing here?" "I am 
resting; my foot is nearly well now, and I will start at once. Did 
you go around and come back ? " he asked. " Oh, no ! I was on the 
trail all the time," came the reply. They set out together. One 
said : " This must be a small lake. When we com$ to the otlier end 
we will go on in a straight line." 

They now watched the sun, and when it was at the other end of the 
lake, they took their course from it, and then traveled a long time 
straight ahead. Again they reached the limit of the land. Once 



304 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

more they said: "It seems that we have come to the end of the 
earth. Let us look for our grandfather's lodge.*' They saw an 
opening or clearing, and on the farther side smol?e arising. They 
found a lodge there, and on looking in saw an old man, at which 
they said one to the other, " I wonder whether that is our grand- 
father." While they were looking, the old man, straightening him- 
self up, called out: "Come in, grandsons. Why do you stay out- 
side? " They looked at each other, saying, " How did he see us, for 
his back is toward us?" Going around the lodge, they entered. 
The old man said, "You have a message, otherwise you would not 
have come: but let me get my pipe first." ^^^ Taking his pipe and 
beginning to smoke, he said, " Now I am ready." " Well," said the 
two men, " our people are assembled in an important condoling coun- 
cil, and they said to us: 'Go to our grandfather; tell him that our 
chief has fallen and that we want to make him alive again.' " " Very 
well," replied the old man, who was one of the Ganos (Spring-frog 
people) ; " you have come on a very important errand and I will give 
you something that will be of great use to you, in fact the only 
thing that can bring your chief to life again." Going into a hole 
in the ground, the old man returned with a white flint in the form 
of a canoe, about as long as a finger. In one end of this white flint 
canoe was some black paint and in the other end was a powder — a 
medicine of some mysterious kind. The old man said : " When you 
go to use what I give you now, color your faces with this paint, 
then paint your dead chief's face with it also; and after that, put 
this powder on the edges of the woimd and wash his face with cold 
water. Then blow on him and he shall come to life. When he 
opens his eyes, put this powder into water and give it to him to 
drink.'' Hurrying off in the boat, they arrived at Broken Land 
without delay. They said: " AVe were hindei'ed by the lake.^^^ We 
kept going around it." The new chief replied, " People seldom get 
away from that lake, which is called Ganigonhadontha Ganiodae ^" 
(the delirium-making lake) ; it puts men out of their minds." 

The people now waited for the next two men. Those two went 
ahead till they came to a.n opening lengthwise in the trail. On look- 
ing around, thej' could see people sitting here and there. One of the 
men said : " I wonder what they are doing. Are they watching and 
guarding the opening? We must pass."' They passed by unharmed 
and traveled till night, when they came to a hollow tree lying on the 
ground. They crawled into this and had been there only a short time 
when some one rapped and said, " Well, are you here for the night? " 
One answered, " Yes; we are." " What would j^ou do if the Ganiag- 
waihegowa should come? " was asked them. " Oh ! we shoidd like it; 
we should play tag and have a good time," they replied. Soon they 
heard a voice saying: " Come out as quickly as you can. I have come 



Z'^l^i] FICTION 305 

to help you, for this is a very divngerous spot. The magic power 
(orenda) of the man you are looking for extends to this place, and 
he has a great many other places under his control. You must fol- 
low me, or you will not live through the night." They went with 
the owner of the voice, seeming to rise in the air as they journeyed. 
After a while the guide said, " Stop here and see what would have 
happened to you if you had stayed in the tree." As they looked back, 
they saw Ganiagwaihegowa '^^ tear the tree into bits, which flew 
around in every direction. Ganiagwaihegowa looked for the men, 
saying : " He who notified me said that two men were here. He al- 
ways disappoints me, but if he does this once more, I will cut his 
head off." Then Ganiagwaihegowa went away. The guide said, 
" Ganiagwaihegowa has gone home, and you are now safe." 

They spent the night in another hollow tree. The next morning 
they hurried on and at midday came to the place where the rocks 
were high — the highest rocks in the whole world — on the summit of 
which lived the old man. As they stood at the foot and looked up, 
they said, " How is it possible to get up where that old man 
lives ? " but they went. They searched until they found a ledge that 
seemed to ascend in a spiral; this they began to climb, one ahead of 
the other. Sometimes they slipped, almost falling off. At length 
the man ahead slipped on a round stone, and over he went, striking 
on the rocks as he fell and going down out of sight. " Well," 
thought the other man, " my friend is dead ; " thereupon he kicked 
the round stone from the ledge. In falling it struck the fallen man, 
who was just regaining consciousness, on the top of his head, killing 
him. 

" The man above went on until he reached the top of the rocks. 
At the lodge of the old man, whose name was Has'honyot (i. e., " his 
back is turned"), of the Odjieqdah^^* (Crayfish or Lobster) people, 
he stood a while, thinking, " this man is at home, I suppose." Looking 
down among the rocks, he said, " See where I would fall if he were 
to kill me." Peeping into the lodge, he said: "Sure enough, he is 
at home ; he is looking toward me and must have been looking at mo 
ever since I came up. I wonder where that thing is for which I 
have come. I wonder whether that is it hanging up there. How 
shall I manage to get inside? Perhaps I would better turn the 
lodge over and let it fall among the rocks." He overturned the 
lodge — down it went over the precipice, whereupon he thought: 
"What will happen when it strikes? I will go and see. I have 
overturned the lodge of the most magically powerful person in the 
world, and did not have much trouble in doing so." When the man 
got halfway down he slipped. The farther he fell the faster he 
went. At last, slipping over the edge of the rocks, he fell till he 
94615°— 18 20 



306 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [mil. ANN. 32 

struck on the topmost limits of a great hit-kory tree; the linil)s threw 
him upward, so that he landed on a ledge on the side of the preci- 
pice. Not knowing how to get down, he said : " I must die anyhow. 
I may as well jump." So jumping off, he came down the same 
hickory tree, to the branches of which he clung; then he slipped to 
the ground, where he found his friend's body with the skull crushed. 
" I tliink it was I who killed him 1)V kicking off that round stone," 
he said; "well, I could not help it." 

The old man's lodge stood all right on level land. He peeped into 
it — there sat the old man. " This is dismal. I will burn the lodge," 
said he; so he piled up sticks until he had it covered, whereupon he 
set fire to it. After the fire was well started, the old man said : " It 
is getting rather hot here. I wonder what is the matter. Perhaps 
S'hodieonskon '^^ is playing tricks with me. It seems there is fire ; it 
feels like that. I wonder whether he is burning my lodge? " After 
a while, hearing the noise of burning timbers, he was sure that there 
was fire. "Very well," said he; "if that is the case, I will call on 
Hasdeaundyet'ha." "" Then, taking native Indian tobacco out of a 
basket made of corn husks, he began to bui-n the tobacco and to call 
on Hasdeaundyet'ha. saying, " I ask you to make it rain so hard that 
the rain shall put out every spark of fire around my lodge." The 
moment he finished speaking rain began to fall. It rained so hard 
that the man outside had to run for safety. In a few moments the 
sky cleared off, the fire was out. and no traces of rain were left. 

"I wonder how things are where I set the fire," thought the mes- 
senger. On returning to the place he found everything quiet — no 
fire ; all in order. " Pshaw ! what can I do ? " said he ; " I might take 
the lodge along, as it is not very heavy." Picking it up and putting 
it on top of his head, he started for Broken Land. Traveling with 
great speed, he soon came near to his destination ; but before coming 
in sight of it, taking the lodge off his head, he said, " I will leave it 
here and let the new chief say what shall be done with it." After 
setting it down, he went to Broken Land. " You have come, but 
where is your companion ? " asked the chief. " He fell from the rocks 
and was killed," he replied. " Did you liring what you went for ? " 
he was asked. " Yes," he answered. " Where is it," was the next 
(juestion. " Not far from here, and I want you to say what shall be 
done with it." The chief replied, " AA^ell, let us all go there." There- 
upon all went to the spot where Has'honj-ot's lodge was left. The 
chief said, " You stay outside while I go into the lodge." "When 
inside he looked at the, old man, who sat there smoking with his 
head down. The chief thought " He is a very magically powerful 
man; he could kill me in a moment if he liked: " then he said, " Mj^ 
friend. I have come to your lodge." The old man kept on smoking. 
not seeming to hear. The chief called again louder, when the old man 



l"i^l^] FICTION 307 

said, "It seems as though someone is taliving.'' Then scooping the 
matter out of one of his eyes with half of a chimshell, he threw it 
away; then he cleaned the other eye in the same way. Having done 
this, he looked up, and, seeing the man, said : '' What are you standing 
there for? Go out! I do not want you in my lodge. I live on the 
top of these rocks so as to be alone," said the old man. " I came out 
here," answered the other, " in a friendly way. Come out, look 
around, and see where you live." On going out and looking around, 
Has'honyot saw that he was in a level country and that many people 
lived aljout him, and he wondered how he got there. " Did I bring 
it," thought he, " from where the wind blows, or not ? I wonder 
whether my lodge was moving when my head was moving and bump- 
ing here and there." "' Well," he finally said to the chief, " what do 
you want ? " "I came," replied the chief, " to see whether you would 
lend us that thing which has so great and wonderful magic power?" 
" What do you want it for? " the old man asked. " Our chief has been 
overpowered and killed. We want to bring him to life," said the 
chief. " I can bring him to life," said Has'honyot, " in a very short 
time." "How shall we pay you?" the chief asked. "Find two of 
your best-looking women and send them to me. I ask no more," 
he replied. " I will talk with my friends," answered the chief. 

Thereupon the chief went out and told his people what the old 
man said. They talked together a gootl while, saj'ing: "The most 
beautiful women are married ; how can they be given away ? Per- 
haps we should never see them again? " At last the people said: 
" Let them go. If their husbands are angry, we will settle with 
them." They told the women that the old man would have control 
of them thenceforth. The women said: " AVe all want to have the 
chief come back to life. We must consent. Perhaps it will turn 
out to be all right." The chief went back to Has'honyot and said: 
"All is settled. The women are willing." " Bring them here, then," 
said the old man. The women were brought to him. Now Has'hon- 
yot had five bloodsuckers as attendants, and he said to them : " Tie 
these women. Do not let them go farther away than your own 
length." The old man carried these bloodsuckers under his tail. 
They fastened on the women at once, but still held to Has'hopyot's 
back. "All right now," said Has'honyot; "your chief will be alive 
tomorrow, but in the meanwhile I do not want any of your people 
around here." The people dispersed, but stayed around at a safe 
distance to see whether the chief would come to life. During the 
night the old man went to the spot where the body of Doonongaes 
lay, and as the women were tied to him, they had to accompany 
him. He said, " There is no need of bringing this terrible-looking 
man to life." Nevertheless he went to work, cleaning and washing 
the wound and putting upon it a certain weed pounded soft. Then 



308 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.32 

reaching down for water, he poured it on the mouth of the corpse 
(there was no water near by, and the women never knew where he 
got it) ; then he blew into Doonongaes's mouth and talked to him (the 
women could not understand what he said). Having done this, he 
built a small fire and told one of the women to run to the lodge and 
get' what was under his couch. As she ran along the bloodsucker 
stretched out, but as soon as she picked up the bark basket of to- 
bacco and started back, the bloodsucker began to contract. Has'hon- 
yot took the tobacco and burned it, saying, " I burn this to you, the 
Complete Power,'" and ask you to bring this man to life." Then he 
sang, '"'■Onen donda'we ne diiohego" (what keeps alive is coming 
back here)." When he had finished singing he sat a good while 
watching. Doonongaes did not come to life then. The old man sent 
the woman again for tobacco, which he burned, repeating the same 
words. Then he sang, Onen saguion ne honheJicjon^ da onen den- 
shadat hehioendjade.^''^ When he had finished singing he blew into 
the mouth of the dead man,'^^ who thereupon came to life. " You are 
well now," said the old man. Doonongaes did not speak. Again 
the old man said, " You are well now." Then Doonongaes answered, 
"I believe I am well." Has'honyot said: "I will go home. You 
s.tay here until your people come in the morning." Has'honyot went 
liome, and the women went to bed with him. 

The next morning the people came to Doonongaes and found him 
alive. They were very glad. " How did you bring me back to life? " 
he asked. " We sent a man to Has'honyot's lodge and he brought back 
the lodge and the old man, who promised to restore you to life if we 
would give him the two most beautiful women of our people. There- 
fore we gave them to him." " That was not right," said Doonongaes; 
"I will kill that old man." The people said: "Do what you like. 
You are alive now, and we will go home." 

Going to the old man's lodge, Doonongaes cried out, " Hallo, old 
man ! what are you going to do with these women — keep them for 
life?" "Of course I will; they are mine now," Has'honyot replied. 
"I wish you would let them go," said Doonongaes: "why should 
you keep them ? " "I got them as pay for bringing you to life," was 
the answer. "No matter; you must give them up," replied Doonon- 
gaes. " Oh, no," replied Has'honyot. " You must," said Doonongaes. 
"Well, then you must get out of my lodge," retorted the old man. 
" No, I will not go until you free the women," answered Doonongaes. 
Has'honyot rejoined : " You must go at once; if you do not I will kill 
you. I did not think yon would annoy me, if I brought you to life." 
"Well, why did you bring me back to life?" asked Doonongaes. 
" Go out of here," said Hos'honyot. " I will not go. I want those 
women," said Doonongaes. The old man, springing up, drew his 
flint knife. " Now, I say you must go," said he. Doonongaes, draw- 



CURTI 
HEW 



'Sj FICTION 309 



ing back sliglitly, thought, " Pshaw ! what a coward I am ! I can 
play tricks on the old man." Going outside, he put his horns under 
the lodge — up it flew in the air and then fell to the ground. (The 
lodge was of stone."") "Very well," yaid the old man, "I will kill 
you." So he went out. "What are you doing? " he asked; "I think 
you are trying to tlirow my lodge over. Do you want me to cut your 
head off again ? I can do it very easily," he added. "All I want," 
replied Doonongaes, " is that you release the women." " I will not 
release them," declared Has'honyot. " You must," said Doonongaes, 
and taking a reed, called owl's arrow, he hit him on the back; the 
blow glanced off without hurting the old man a bit. Again Doonon- 
gaes asked, "Will you let me have the women?" "No," exclaimed 
Has'honyot. " Well, I am going over there a short distance. I will 
come back soon," said Doonongaes. 

Going into the lodge, Has'honyot asked his attendants, the blood- 
suckers : " What shall we do ? I think he intends to kill us. Do 
you think he can do it ? " " Yes ; we think he has gone for help," 
they rejoined. Doonongaes had gone to find the Djihonsdonqgwen "' 
people. He came to the place in which they all lived, one great 
lodge — a mound lodge. Peeping in, he saw a great many people 
walking around. Immediately one spoke to the others, saying, 
" Hurry up ! we have some game here." Straightway there were 
great confusion and crowding and rushing to and fro. There 
seemed to be rooms all over this immense lodge, above and below 
and on every side. Entering. Doonongaes said : " Let us have peace. 
I came here to lead to a work which you will like; I know you 
will. I have come to hire you to kill a man over there." They said 
to one another, " Let us get ready to go." Their chief lived on a hill 
near by, but they did not notify him. Doonongaes led them to 
Has'honyot's lodge, saying, " I want you to kill this old man, but do 
not harm the women." A great many went into the lodge, filling it, 
and there was a vast crowd outside. Some time passed, and then 
Doonongaes heard the old man scream and saw him run- out. When 
outside the crowd around the lodge caught him. They released the 
women. They hurried home, accom )anied by Doonongaes, who lefit 
the Djihonsdonqgwen to fight with the old man until they thought he 
was dead. When the women i-eached home they said, " We are now 
the wives of our great chief, Doonongaes." " Thank j'ou, my daugh- 
ters," said their mother; "he has saved you, and it is right that you 
should live with him." So Doonongaes went to the lodge of the two 
women and did not return to Ganyodaes. 

After a long time had passed both women had children, and he 
continued to li\e with them until one day he said, "I am going to 
the place where my friend. Has'honyot, used to live on the high 
rocks." WTien he reached the foot of the rocks, he saw something 



3,10 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. *nn. 32 

lying on the ground, whereupon he said, " He h)oUs like some of our 
people." It was the man who had fallen over the precipice wliile 
climbing up to Has'honyot's lodge. At last Doonongaes, having 
found the ledge on which the men had climbed, reached the summit 
where the lodge had been; there he saw the footprints of the man 
who had overturned it. On looking around, he could see to the end 
of the earth,'"- in all directions. He looked toward the west. Seeing 
far off a nuin killing jjeoiile, he exclaimed, "Pshaw, that man is a 
fool! " Descending the cliti', he hurried to the place, where he found 
a great many people. To the man who was killing them, he said, 
" AVhat are you doing?'" "Oh! I am guarding the land under iny 
control," was the replj'. "Yes. What is your name?" asked Doon- 
ongaes. " My name is Tsodiqgwadon," '"^ was his answer. " You and 
I belong to the same people, then," said Doonongaes; " we will there- 
fore decide the matter of supremacy '"* in this way : Whichever one of 
us has the orenda (magic power) to command the great rocks of the 
cliff on the south side of this village to fall, shall own this place." 
Then Doonongaes said, " Let the rocks fall and fall this way." He 
had barely spoken when the rocks began to fall toward him. " Only 
half the rocks have fallen," said Tsodiqgwadon. " Now command 
them to go back to their places." It was done. Now it was the turn 
of Tsoditjgwadon. He said, " I command every rock of the cliff to 
fall," and ever_y stone fell with a great noise, only a mound of earth 
remaining where the cliff had just stood. Then Doonongaes said: 
" You have won. You have more orenda than I have. You are more 
magically powerful than I. I can do nothing more. Now, tell me 
what I can do to satisfy you." ^'^^ Tsodi<igwadon said. " I want you to 
let women alone. Every woman living is mine." Going home to his 
wives, Doonongaes said to them, " 1 ou are not mine any longer." 
" Why not," they asked; " ha\e you sold us, or have you been beaten 
in a game in which 3rou wagered us?" "No; I met a man who 
claimed you," he replied. " AVho is he?" they persisted. "Tsodiqg- 
wadon! " exclaimed Doonongaes. "We do not know him; how can 
we be his wives? " they asked. " Well, that is what he said. I did all 
I could but he magically overpowered me. Now, I will go to my 
old home, where I shall be better off," answered Doonongaes. 

Thereupon Doonongaes went to Ganyodaes and, after seeing that 
all was in order, he began to cook. When he had finished he heard 
footsteps. A man kicked at the door, and in came his servant. Skah- 
nowa, who said: "What are you doing in my lodge?" "How came 
this lodge to belong to you ? " asked Doonongaes. " Get out of here ! " 
said Skahnowa ; " I do not want you." " I wish," said Doonongaes, 
" you would tell me by what right you claim this lodge." " My 
master, the former owner, was killed, and I took possession of it after 
his death," replied Skahnowa. "Ah ! that is it. Do you not know rae? 



CUKTI 



tt] fiction 311 

I have come back," said Doonongaes. "You Doonongaes? No; I 
am sure my master was killed and that his body has decayed by this 
time," said Skahnowa. "No; it is I. I have coine to life," answered 
Doonongaes. For a time Skahnowa was silent; at last he said: " We 
will test this matter. Go to my lodge and bring the hind quarter of 
a bear." " Very well," replied Doonongaes, and he started, disap- 
pearing in the water of the lake. Coming out at a distance from the 
lodge, he killed a bear and. without having gone to Skahnowa's lodge, 
brought a hind (juarter. Skahnowa said : " You went quickly. Did 
you bring what I sent you for ''. " " Yes. Here it is." replied Doon- 
ongaes. " This is fresh. All the bear meat I had home was roasted. 
You are not Doonongaes. Go out of this lodge." said Skahnowa. 
Beginning to cry, Doonongaes went out. Skahnowa then started on 
his round of the lake. Doonongaes had not gone far when he said, 
" What a coward I am ! It would be stupid of me ito give up my 
lodge." He went liack but did not find Skahnowa there, so he took 
possession. The next day at noon Skahnowa returned just as Doon- 
ongaes was ready to eat. " What are you here for?" asked Skahnowa. 
" I told you to go away." " AVhy should I give up my lodged " asked 
Doonongaes. "If you do not go away, I will beat you," said Skah- 
nowa. They began to quarrel, and then, going outside, began to 
fight, moving along the lake. They fought the rest of the day and all 
night. The next morning Skahrwwa said : " This is a hard task. It 
may be that he is my master. The only thing that makes me doubt 
it is that he did not do what I asked him to do. He did not go to my 
lodge." Finally he said to Doonongaes: "Let us give up fighting." 
" No," replied Doonongaes, " let us have it out. A man has to be 
killed, one way or another." " Very well," said Skahnowa, so they 
fought again in good earnest. Being of equal magical strength, they 
fought day and night for one month.'"" Then Skahnowa said : " We 
would better stop fighting. I think neither of us can conquer." 
" Yes," replied Doonongaes, " it is useless to fight longer ; but I want 
you to promise not to order me out of my own lodge again." " Very 
well," answered Skahnowa, " you may keep the lodge ; the owner of it 
was killed long ago." Doonongaes asked : " Do you not really know 
me?" "I know my master is dead," said Skahnowa. 

Doonongaes now went back to the lodge, thinking : " How can I 
get possession of my lake. I must manage to control it again." 
The next night as he lay thinking, he fell asleep and had a dream, 
and in the dream a man said : " I have come to say that you have 
been fighting with your servant Skahnowa. We people of orenda, 
or magic power,'"'^ know immediately what is going on. All the peo- 
ple of magic power are stirred up now, and if you wish to live, you 
must go to Tsodiqgwadon. All these people fear him. You mu.st 
get up and go now, for these people will be here exactly as the sun 



312 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. a.nn. 8j 

comes up in the east. Start immediately, and try to be there before 
daylight." Doonongaes was astonished at his dream, but said, " I 
want to live, so I will go." Starting about midnight, and going to 
his wives, he slept with them. Then he arose very early in the 
morning and journeyed on. He found Tsodiqgwadon at the same 
place whei-e he had seen him killing people. He had barely sat 
down when a man, kicking aside the door flap, asked : " Have you 
seen Doonongaes?" "What do you want of him?" asked Tsodiqg- 
wadon. " We want to have a trial of our orenda, or magical 
strength," came the answer. "Yes; I have seen him, but it was a 
good while ago," said Tsodiqgwadon. " There are fresh tracks com- 
ing here. Why do you try to hide him? " said the stranger. " I am 
not trying to hide him, and do you go out of my lodge," replied 
Tsodiqgwadon. " I want to see Doonongaes," said the other. " Have 
T not said that I have not seen him? Do you understand me?" 
declared Tsodiqgwadon. " Well, I did not come with any evil in- 
tent," said the other. " But why do you insist, when I tell you I 
have not seen him? " retorted Tsodiqgwadon. " But the tracks made 
by him are fresh," was the other's reply. " Pshaw," said Tsodiqg- 
wadon, " do you not know what kind of man I am ? " The visitor, 
who was a Dagwanoenyent,^''- ran out, screaming: " Oh ! do not touch 
me. I do not want to fight." " Well, if you do not, then go home," 
said Tsodiqgwadon. The man then started for home. 

This man was barely out of sight when they heard a second man 
coming. Kicking aside the door flap and jumping in, he inquired 
for Doonongaes, saying, " I will eat him should I find him." This 
was Niagwaihe.^'^" Tsodiqgwadon said, " I have not seen him." 
"That is always the way with this man," muttered the other; "he is 
always hiding bad people. How comes it otherwise that his tracks are 
here? " "I have not seen him. What do you come for? I do not 
want .you in my lodge," declared Tsodiqgwadon. " Why do you hide 
Doonongaes?" rejoined Niagwaihe. "I told you I have not seen 
him." said Tsodiqgwadon. " His fresh trail comes in at your door," 
replied the other. "Well, perhaps he came in and went off another 
way," said Tsodiqgwadon. The man went out to look ; then, coming 
back, he said. " No; it is as I told you; his trail comes in here." " Do 
you want to fight him ? " asked Tsodiqgwadon. " No ; I merely came 
to see him," was the reply. " If you do not go away I will kill you," 
said Tsodiqgwadon. "You know what sort of person I am: the 
best way for you and me is to have it out." Tsodiqgwadon then 
went outside, whereupon Niagwaihe screamed : " Do not beat me. I 
did not come with any ill feeling." " Well, go home or I will fight 
3'ou," said Tsodiqgwadon. Niagwaihe disappeared. " Now," said 
Tsodiqgwadon to Doonongaes, who was standing just behind him, 
" come out of your hiding place." 



^"--i] FICTION _ 313 

They had barely sat down in the lodge when footsteps were heard 
again and Djainosgowa '" rushed into the lodge, saying, "Yes; this 
is the man for whom I have come." Seizing Doonongaes by the hair 
he pulled him out of doors. Tsodiqgwadon followed them. When 
outside he saw Djainosgowa walking off with Doonongaes on his 
shouldei-. " He has taken away my friend, who came to live with 
me. Never mind," said Tsodiqgwadon to himself, going back into 
the lodge and beginning to smoke. Then he thought : '' Perhaps I 
would better go to help him. They may kill him." So, following 
Djainosgowa's trail, he found him sitting down talking with Doonon- 
gaes, and asking, " How did you come to think that you have orenda? 
Why did you want to kill your servant?" Tsodiqgwadon listened. 
Doonongaes answered, " Let us have peace. Why should we fight? " 
"No," replied Djainosgowa; "I am going to try your strength in 
orenda." Tsodiqgwadon was there, but iiad made himself invisible 
lo them. All at once Tsodiqgwadon seized Doonongaes and, putting 
him on his back, said, " Let us go home. What is the use of being 
here ? "' 

After Tsodiqgwadon had gone a few steps Djainosgowa found, 
on looking around, that Doonongaes had disappeared. He searched 
everywhere for him. At last he said, " Pshaw ! I think Tsodiqg- 
wadon took him away," whereupon he started back. When 
Tsodiqgwadon reached home, he said to Doonongaes, " We will sit 
right down here. Djainosgowa will be back soon." Almost im- 
mediately Djainosgowa came in and asked, " Have you seen Doonon- 
gaes? " "No; you jerked him out of my lodge. That is the last I 
have seen of him," declared Tsodiqgwadon. Djainosgowa said, "I 
believe you are playing tricks on me. AVhere did you leave him?" 
'' AVhy do you accuse me? Go home! I am tired of you," said 
Tsodiqgwadon. "I want to see Doonongaes," replied Djainosgowa. 
" Go out of here ! " exclaimed Tsodiqgwadon. " I will not go until I 
am satisfied," persisted the visitor. " I tell you to go. Can you not 
understand?" said Tsodiqgwadon, getting up and going toward 
Djainosgowa, who jumped out of the lodge, saying, " Oh ! do not be 
angry. I did not come with any bad feelings." " Go home." replied 
Tsodiqgwadon, "or I will beat you." Djainosgowa had to go, for 
he was conquered by superior orenda. Then Tsodiqgwadon said to 
Doonongaes, " A^Tiat have you done to all these people that they 
come here after you?" "I had fought with Skahnowa, who had 
taken my lodge," replied Doonongaes. " We fought for one month, 
and because we fought so long all the people having magic power 
around the world are excited; that is all." "Let us go to your 
lodge," said Tsodiqgwadon. " I should like to see your servant who 
is so powerful in orenda." 



314 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS. AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 3= 

Thereupon they went directly to the place. Skahnowa was on 
his daily rounds. "Where has he gone?" asked Tsodiqgwadon. 
" Oh I he has gone around the lake. He will be here soon." said 
Doonongaes, who began to cook. Just as they were sitting down 
to eat, they heard footsteps, and a man sprang into the lodge, calling 
out, "What are j'ou doing in here? Go out!" "Oh! be quiet," 
said Tsodi(]gwadon. "Well, what right have you in my lodge?" 
answei-ed Skahnowa. "Be reasonable," said Tsodiqgwadon. 
Skahnowa dropped his head ; then, raising it again, he asked : " What 
are you doing? Are you on some errand of importance?" "We 
have come to see what you have been doing with your master." re- 
l)lied Tsodi(|gwadon. "It is a great annovance to have people come 
to try the strength of Doonongaes since your fight with him took 
place." " Is that man there my master? " asked Skahnowa. " Yes; 
he is," replied Tsoiliqgwadon. "How came he to be alive again?" 
Skahnowa asked. " That is nothing strange among us people of. 
great magic power — persons who are pos.sessed of potent orenda. We 
die and become alive again;'" that is the way it was with Doonon- 
gaes," said Tsodiqgwadon. " Now I understand," said Skahnowa. 
" I will not quarrel with him : he can have his own lodge. I will never 
trouble him again." Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes, " Let us go." 

So they went along the lake shore and were soon at home. The 
ground about was covered with tracks. Everything had been eaten; 
not a scra]3 was left. "What are you going to do now?" asked 
Tsodiqgwadon. " The best I can do," said Doonongaes, " is to go 
liome with you and you can give me a couple of women to live with. 
Skab.nowa will forget his promise and will attack me if I stay here." 
" Very well ; come along and I will take you to a woman," Tso- 
diqgwadon said, so he brought him to a filthy, ugly-looking creature 
of the Hanondon"- people. " Here is a woman — I want you to stay 
with her," said Tsodiqgwadon. Doonongaes replied, " I want an- 
other." " Well, let us go on a little farther," declared Tsodiqgwadon. 
They soon came to a lodge in which was a woman of the Hawiq- 
son(t)''^ people, dirty, and so badly deformed that one of her feet 
was on her forehead. " Well," said Doonongaes, " I suppose I shall 
have to live with these women. You are the ruler here." 

Tsodiqgwadon left him. Night came and Doonongaes hung his 
head, saying: "I think my friend Tsodicjgwadon has treated me 
badly. I will not stay with these women. I will go away." He trav- 
eled all that night and the next day; he traveled southward 10 whole 
days and nights. When iO days had passed Tsodiqgwadon went to 
the place where the women, Hanondon and Hawi(|son(t), lived, say- 
ing, " I will see how my friend Doonongaes is getting on." He asked 
the women, "Is Doonongaes at home?" "No," they replied. 



ukwi'tt] fiction 315 

" AA'here lias he gone?" asked Tsnditigwadon. "We do not know," 
said thej', "he did not stay here; he went off the first night you left 
him." " Pshaw ! let him go," said he, and Tsodiqgwadon went home. 

At the end of 10 days Doonongaes came to a large village in which 
all the people wore feather headdresses. The chief of the village, 
Gasaisdowunen,"^ asked Doonongaes, " What did you come here for i. " 
"To make a visit," replied Doonongaes. "Who will take this man 
to his lodge?" asked the chief. "He may go with me," called out 
one man, so Doonongaes lived with him. After a few dayt, news 
came to the chief that the people from the far west were going to 
make war on him; then a challenge came. The chief asked his peo- 
ple to volunteer to fight the western people. In two days he had 
500 volunteeis, among whom was Doonongaes. They started, women 
going with them until the night of the first day. The next morning 
when the warriors went on the women returnetl to their homes. The 
warriors continued their journey until they began to see signs of 
danger and to hear war whoops here and there in the distance. 
When they stopped for the night tlie chief said. " Let one man be on 
guard all night." Doonongaes volunteered to do this sentinel duty. 
He kept the fires burning and watched. About midnight he heard a 
great war whoop and, saying to himself, " I do not want to die," he 
ran off. The western people, who were Dagwanoenyents, came to 
the spot where the people were asleep and killed and scalped everj' 
one of them. After getting away to a safe distance Doonongaes lay 
down and slept. In the morning he said, " I will go and see what 
has happened to my friends." He found them all dead and scalped, 
v.'hereupon he thought, " I will go to the wives of these men and 
take them all." 

When Doonongaes returned to the village he called the women 
together, and said, " I wish to tell you that your husbands are killed, 
and that I will marry all of you." After talking the matter over 
all the women except one were finally willing to accept the i)roposal. 
Doonongaes said, " Very well ; I will settle with the unwilling one." 
He stayed one night at each woman's lodge. When he came to the 
unwilling one he said, " If you do not marry me, I will cut your 
head off." "Well," she answered, "you will have to overpower me 
first." She was a great woman; her name was Diagoisiowanens."'= 
Doonongaes continued. " I am magically the most powerful man in 
the world," referring to his orenda. or magic power. " Well, 
you must try me," said she. Thereupon he went out, saying, " I 
will be ready in the afternoon," but he never returned. 

Going southward, Doonongaes traveled until evening. That 
night he spent in a hollow tree. He went on for eight days. The 
ninth night he said, " Diagoisiowanens thought she could over- 
power me, but I am too far off now." He was just going to sleep 



316 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [ETH.ANN.a2 

when he heard someone walking on the leaves who, coining to the 
opening of his camp, said : " Doonongaes, are you here ?■ What 
would you do if Hononeowanen "" should come here ? " " Oh ! I should 
like it," answered Doonongaes. The man went off, as it seemed, and 
soon a great noise of falling trees was heard — a terrible noise — the 
earth was torn up on every side. AVhen Hononeowanen reached the 
tree he said, " Come out I " Turning himself into a snake." ' '' Doonon- 
gaes went out. When the other one saw him, he said, " Why, you 
are one of my people." " Yes, I am the chief of our people, the 
most powerful person on earth," was the reply of Doonongaes. " I 
think not," said Hononeowanen. " Yes, I am. In the west lives a 
man of our kind, pretending to be the most powerfid person mag- 
ically in the whole world. I met and overpowered him (Doonon- 
gaes lied; he meant Tsodiqgwadon). "Well," said Hononeowanen, 
" that man has more orenda than I, so if you have more orenda than 
he, I do not want to meddle with you, so I will go away." So say- 
ing, he went off. Doonongaes stood a while thinking: "Why did 
Hononeowanen come over here? I suppose he forgot that I am sec- 
ond in magic power among my people. Well. I will go back to my 
wives, but there is no use in doing that, as Diagoisiowanens might 
kill me. I will go southward." 

Doonongaes then walked two nights and days without sleep, until 
he came to a great plain on the eastern side of which there was 
smoke arising. Thereupon he turned himself into a man."' Soon he 
reached a village, but he saw no one, though smoke was rising from 
every lodge. Entering a lodge, he found a kettle full of meat over 
a good fire, but there was no one at home. Going around the vil- 
lage, he waited. Just at noon he thought. "I would better go again 
and see whether anyone has come back." He found no one. " This 
is very mysterious." said he. " I will go away — perhaps this is a 
place of the arts of scorcery." 

Doonongaes next went westward. In the evening he saw another 
" opening " and smoke arising, as before. " If I do not find anyone 
hei'e," said he, " I will go back to the two women whom Tsodiqgwadon 
gave me." He reached the place, where he had been but a short 
time when he saw coming toward him a splendid-looking man with 
great feathers on his head. This was Hostoyowanen."' the chief of 
the village. Doonongaes greeted him with, " Do you know the vil- 
lage off there in the east ? Where have all the people gone ? " " They 
are dead," answered the man. "Niagwaihe has eaten them all. To- 
morrow, pei-haps, he will come here and destroy us." "I should like 
to stay here a few days," said Doonongaes. " Very well," replied the 
chief, "tomorrow I will show you my village." The next day they 
went all around. Doonongaes saw that the people had beautiful 



CCRTIN 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 3] 7 



things — wampum, shells, and valuable skins; there were many people 
and lodges. After they had seen all tlie village, Hostoyowanen said : 
" Now, you must not stay any longer. I do not want you to die 
here. Run southward and you may be saved." The chief went home 
and Doonongaes went southward. He ran fast, and when night came 
he slept in a hollow tree. The next morning he said, " I am going 
westward. I do not mind what that chief said." Toward midday 
he was hungry. He said: " Oh ! my neck is sore; it has been sore for 
a long time and feels as though something were in it. How can I 
cure it? " Having found a spring, he lay down to drink from it, but 
saw the reflection of someone in the water. " Oh ! that looks like my 
wife, Hawiqson(t). Why is her face reflected in this water? I an' 
faT from her now. This is strange," mused Doonongaes. Being 
frightened, he did not drink but, jumping up, he ran toward the 
south, forgetting which way he was going. He ran all night. Just at 
daylight he fell down from wealmess. " Why," thought he, " am I 
getting so heavy and weak? Is it because I am hungry? " He lay 
there and could not rise; he was too hungry, for he had not eaten 
anything for a whole year.'^" He thought : " Well, there is no need of 
my standing up. I am a snake." Changed from a man into a great 
snake, he went on, saying, " Well, I am traveling again." At noon, 
coming to a village, he went into the last lodge, in which lived an 
old woman and her granddaughter, who were very poor. " I want 
to stay with you a few days," said Doonongaes. " I have nothing to 
eat," answered the old woman. " I want merely to sleep ; I do not 
care for eating," Doonongaes replied. "Then you may stay," said 
the old woman. The next morning, before she was out of bed, Doon- 
ongaes asked, " Had j'ou a family long ago? " " Yes," she answered, 
" a long time ago I was married and had a large family, but only two 
are living now." "Well," said Doonongaes, "you must have kept a 
bow and arrows." " Look around," said the old woman to her grand- 
daughter, " and see whether you can find a bow and arrows." After 
hunting for them, at last she fomid a bow and arrows. Doonongaes 
straightened the arrows and strung the bow. Then he shot through 
the smoke hole, saying to the arrow, " Go for a large bear." Soon 
they heard the sound of approaching footsteps and then of some- 
thing falling in front of the door, at which the old woman said : " I 
think that man Dagadiye has come again, for he is always rushing 
through the village. He does not kill, but he chases our people." 
Doonongaes laughed at her words. " Why do you laugh ? " asked 
the old widow. " I laugh at what you say," replied Doonongaes. 
"Well, what do you think the noise was?" she asked. "I do not 
know," said Doonongaes. " Go and see." Going to the door, she 
exclaimed, '"'' Hwu! Hwu! There is a great bear here!" The old 
woman made a hole under the jaw of the bear and, putting her 



318 SEXECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anx. 32 

thuiiil) into tlie incision, she tore off the slvin. Then cutting open the 
body, she took out the intestines, after which she hung up the meat. 
Then she began to think : " Why did this bear come? Who sent it? " 
Finally she asked, " My grandson, can you tell me why this bear 
came? " Doonongaes said, laughing: " Did you not see me shoot? I 
told the arrow to bring a bear and the bear came." 

Doonongaes staid tiiere all day, while the grandmother cooked. 
The next morning he heard a noise. A messenger came in, saying: 
" I have come to notify you that the daughter of our chief, Deyene- 
gonsdasden,'*^ is to be married to the man who can shoot the black 
eagle perched (m the top of a pole that reaches to the clouds: the 
shooting begins at midday." Doonongaes said, " I can marry the 
'hief's daughter, for I can kill any one of the eagles, even when 
Hying high." He straightened his arrows and strung his bow as 
he lay by the fire. Looking through the smoke hole, he could see the 
eagle on the pole.'"^ At midday all the people were around the pole, 
when the chief said, " Now, do you begin." Doonongaes saw through 
the smoke-hole how the arrows flew. Each man tried twice, but none 
of the arrows went near the target. He watched until night, and 
then the chief said, " Tomorrow we will try again." The next morn- 
ing Doonongaes said, " None of these men can kill that eagle." 
Stringing his bow, he shot an arrow through the .smoke-hole, which 
he saw go straight to the eagle and pierce it. The eagle fell, wdiile 
the arrow transfixing it stuck into the ground, taking root so deep 
that no one was able to pull it out. Everj' man said, " I did it." 
But the chief replied, " Then take the arrow out." Each tried but 
could not draw out the arrow. Now Doonongaes said to the old 
woman's granddaughter : '*' " Go after my arrow'. Somebody may 
break it." She went to the place, saying, "A man at our lodge sent 
me to get his arrow." Thereupon, taking hold of it, she pulled it out 
easily. 

" ]\Iy daughter is married now," said Deyenegonsdasden, so he sent 
two men for Doonongaes. They found him by the fire at the widow's 
lodge. AA'hen they told him to come to the chief's lodge, he asked, 
" Why does the chief send for me? " '** " He wants you to marrj' his 
daughter, for you killed the black eagle on the top of the pole," he 
was told, " Oh ! I do not want any more wives. I have more 
than 100 now," returned Doonongaes. They insisted, but he re- 
fused. On their return this was told to Deyenegonsdasden. who said, 
" Now let 8 or 10 of you go, and if he won't come willingly, tie him 
and bring him here.'' Going back, they said, " You must come." 
"I will not." replied Doonongaes; "I am not going there for noth- 
ing," declared Doonongaes. " Well," answered the men, " it is not 
for nothing. The chief wants you to marry his daughter.'' " Is 
she good looking?" asked Doonongaes. "Oh, j'es! she is very beau- 



^,^;-S] FICTION 319 

tiful," the men replied. "Well," said Doonongaes, "it would 
be a shame for me to marry her;' I am too nasty a man." They tried 
hard to persuade him, but he would not go. Then they tried to tie 
him, but he hurled them away. Even after trying all day they 
could not bind him. AVhon night came they said. " We might as 
well give up and go home." When they went back they told the 
chief, "We can do nothing with him." Then the chief said to his 
daughter, "You must go to him." As her father told her that she 
must go, the girl went. She entered the old woman's hut, but 
Doonongaes paid no attention to her. After a while she said, " I 
came to stay with you." "Where do you live?" asked Doonon- 
gaes, " I live in the center ^*^ of the village," the girl replied. " Who 
is your father?" he asked. "The chief," she said. "Oh! I will 
not marry you," said Doonongaes. " Are you sure you will not 
marry me?" asked the girl. "Yes; I have too many wives," he 
replied. "Are you married at home? Where do you live?" she 
inquired. The reply was : " Sixteen '*" days' journey from here I have 
more than a hundred wives. Farther on I have two more." " Where 
did you come from? " she continued. " I think you know the place," 
he said ; it is called Dedyosdenhon." ^" " Yes," he replied, " I know 
where that place is; it is far away, near the end of the earth. I 
suppose you will not go back there. It is too far, and you will 
marry me." " No, I am not looking for a wife here. Such people 
as you are '"^ would not help me." The beautiful girl began to cry. 
Doonongaes. looking at her, asked, "What is the matter? " Where- 
upon she cried harder and harder. Now Doonongaes himself began 
to cry. The old woman asked : " What is the matter ? Why do you 
cry?" No answer. Then she herself began to cry. Her grand- 
daughter, coming in and seeing that all were crying, began to get 
lonely and to cry, too. Now all were crying, and they cried louder 
and louder. Just as it became dark the chief heard the sound of 
crj'ing, and sent men to find out where it was. They went through 
the whole village, but found no one crying. At last one said, 
" Let us go over to the old widow's hut." On nearing it they heard 
the sound of crying, so they returned to the chief and said, "The 
crying is at the lodge of the old widow, Deienensowanens." '*" Hear- 
ing this, the chief said : " My daughter is at that lodge. 1 must 
go over there." When near, he, too, heard the sound of crying, at 
which his heart grew weak, and he thought to himself, " I can not 
go into that poor hut." So he remained outside, and soon he also 
began to cry, and he cried until he forgot everj^thing. AVhen he 
fame to his senses he was sitting at the side of the old widow. 
" Broad-Shoulders." He did not know where he was. He was not 
crying, merely thinking why the others were crying. After a while 
he said, " Let us all be of good cheer and stop crying." Now the 



320 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

old woman thought, "Who said that? " and, on looking up, she saw 
the chief of the village, whereupon she asked, "Why are you here? 
I never saw you near me before." " I came to cheer you up," he 
replied. " Very well," said the widow, " but tell your daughter to 
stop crying. I thought it was the rule to cry, for when she got here 
she began to do so." The chief said to his daughter: "Stop crying! 
It is not right for you to cry. If you do not stop, I will cut your 
head off." Being afraid, she .stopped. Doonongaes cried on as 
before until finally the old woman said, " My grandson, every one 
has stopped crying; so do not cry." He paid no heed. The chief 
tried to stop him, but he cried the more, and continued to cry until 
morning. He was sitting on a block with his elbows on his knees 
and his head resting on the palms of his hands. In the morning 
his companions saw a great pile of wampum in front of hnn. All 
his tears were beautiful wampum. The chief asked: "What are 
those things ? Are they not good for something '? " " Yes," replied 
Doonongaes, " if they are strung together. If a man is sad and 
cries, and a string of them is given to him, all will be well again." 
Doonongaes had now stopped crying. The chief said, " I want you 
to be the chief of this place, and I will be the second, or vice, chief." 
Doonongaes sat with drooping head for a while, after which, look- 
ing up, he said : " I do not want to be a chief. I am great enough 
now. I am known everywhere. I am second in magic power in the 
entire world — tliat is enough for me." The chief asked, " Do you 
know who is first in magic power in this world?" "I do," he re- 
plied. " Who is he? " was the next question. "Tsodiqgwadon, who 
lives at Dedyosdenhon," he answered. " Very well," said the chief, 
" I can say no more. I will go home, taking my daughter with me." 
" Yes ; go ! I do not want 30U here," Doonongaes added. 

The chief and his daughter then returned home, whereupon Doon- 
ongaes began to laugh. The old woman asked, " Why do you 
laugh?" "Oh! I am laughing at the chief, for his daughter very 
much wants to get married." The old woman replied, " You would 
better stop laughing and appoint some one to marry her instead of 
yourself " " Well, grandmother, you must go and find some poor 
man to marry her," said Doonongaes. " Very well, grandson. I will 
go to a ' Shabby Man ' who lives on the other side of the village 
and speak to him about it." AAlien she got to the place she said to 
the " Shabby Man," " I have come to have you marry? " " Who would 
marry me ? Nobody wants me," said the man. " Oh, yes ! I can 
find you a wife, a beautiful one, too," was her answer. The " Shabby 
Man " said, "All right," and went home with the old woman. Doon- 
ongaes asked : "Are you the man ? Do you want to marry ? " "Yes. 
I should like to marry, if anybody would have me," replied the man. 
Doonongaes said to the widow's granddaughter, " Go to the chief and 



CUKT 
HEW 



Jtt] fiction 321 



saiy thiit Dooiiongaes will marry his daughter now." So she told the 
chief what he said. " Very well," he answered, sending his daughter 
to the old woman's hut. Doonongaes asked her, " Do you want to 
marry me'^ " " Yes; for you killed the eagle," she replied. " Wonkl 
it please you if I should appoint a man to marry you?" Doonon- 
gaes added. " Yes," was the girl's answer. " This is the man I ap- 
point," declared Doonongaes. Turning to the " Shabby Man," the 
girl said, " Come, we will go home to my father's lodge." At this 
the man laughed for gladness. 

Doonongaes spent a whole year with the old woman. One morn- 
ing he said: "Now, I am going to the southern end of the earth. I 
want to know how things are there." " Very well," replied tlie 
grandmother. " Come in on your way back," she said. " I will," said 
Doonongaes. He left all the wampum with the old woman, for if 
he wanted any he had only to cry in order to get it. After traveling 
all day and all night, in the morning he came to a great opening in 
the woods. As he stood looking around the place, he saw some dark 
object in the west. Looking very sharply, he said : " What is that 
dark thing? Is some one watching? " He stood there a good while. 
Just at midday, seeing that the object was lying down, he thought : 
"What can that be? I must go there and see." He ran thither as 
swiftly as he could, and on coming to a piece of smooth ground, 
there he found one of tlie Djaiuosgowa family. The one that had 
been standing up was the old man who guarded the opening; he was 
now lying down to sleep, for it was just midday. There were two 
old Djainosgowa persons and live cliildren. Doonongaes, frightened, 
ran into the woods, thinking: "I must go home. I do net want these 
Djainos people to kill me." 

So Doonongaes ran a whole month, day and night, until he reached 
the lodge of Tsodiiigwadon, whom he found sitting by the tire with 
liis head hanging down. When he looked up and saw Doonongaes 
he said, "Oh, my friend! are you aliv«? " " Yes; I have been trav- 
eling," said Doonongaes. "Why did you leave your two wives?" 
asked Tsodiqgwadon. " Oh ! I do not think those women good 
enough for me; they are too ugly," was his answer. " AVhy did you 
tell me you wanted them? " he was asked. " I did not want them. I 
wanted good-looking women," he said. " Well, you can not have two 
beautiful women," declared his questioner. Soon they heard a noise, 
at which Tsodiqgwadon said, "Sit down behind me." A stranger, 
entering, asked, "Have you seen Doonongaes?" "I have not," an- 
swered Tsodiqgwadon. "Well, I have tracked him to this lodge," 
came the reply. " What of it? I have not seen him " was the reply. 
"You must have hidden him," persisted the stranger. "No; I tell 
you I have not seen him." The stranger, who was Djainosgowa, and 
O-IGIS'— 18 21 



322 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. AN.v.aa 

who had followed Doonongaes from the great opening, now sard, 
" I Kiust go home." " You would better do so," replied Tsodiqgwa- 
don. As he started off, Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes: "Come 
out here. 1 want you to go to the northern end of the earth and see 
how mj father is getting on. He lives at the edge of the earth. Ask 
him if he will not come here. Tell him we are to have a great council 
at Broken Land. All the people of the world are to meet there." 
"What is your father's name?" asked Doonongaes. Tsodiqgwadon 
said, " Deanohdjcs."" He is of the Geia ^" people." 

Doonongaes immediately started on the journey. He traveled day 
and night for a whole year,^°^ but could not i-each the northern end of 
the earth. One moriling he said, " I do not believe I shall ever get 
to the place where Deanohdjes lives." Sitting on a large stone he 
wondered what he should do. At last he thought, " Well, I must 
go on: if I do not Tsodiqgwadon may kill me, for he is greater in 
sorcery than I." So he traveled on for another whole year. Then he 
thought again : " How much farther must I go ? I am very far away 
from Hanging Eock." (Tsodiqgwadon was so magically powerful 
that he caused Doonongaes to lose his course, and hence to go round 
and round without ever drawing nearer the place to which he was 
sent.) One morning Doonongaes heard a voice frofti some village 
near by. There sat Tsodiqgwadon, who turned, and, looking at him, 
asked, " Well, have you come back ? " " Yes," said Doonongaes. 
"Have you seen my father?" continued his questioner. "No; I 
could not find his lodge," replied Doonongaes. " Well, you have been 
gone a long time. Where have you been? " said Tsodiqgwadon. To 
this Doonongaes rejoined : " I thought I was on my way north, and 
that I was a great distance from here, and I wanted to know how 
far I was from your father's lodge." Tsodiqgwadon began to laugh 
and to make sport of him, saying, " I want you to go straight ahead 
this time, not in a circle." 

Doonongaes now set out the second time. He traveled northward 
for 10 days and nights, when he came to a narrow opening which 
was so long that he could not see the farther end. This was called 
Nitgendasadieha.^"' He started to cross this opening. At night he 
slept soundly on the grass. The next morning he traveled on. He 
was 10 ^^^ days in crossing this opening. Going on farther, he came 
to a second opening, through which he saw a lodge at the farther end. 
Peeping through the cracks in the wall, he saw sitting inside by the 
fire with his head down, smoking, an old man. The old man, who 
was of the Osigweon ""^ people, raising his head, said : " I smell a hu- 
man being. My nephew must have come. Well, nephew, come in. 
Why do you stand outside ? " Thereupon Doonongaes, thinking. 
" How did he know I was here ? " went in. The old man continuetl : " I 
have been wishing for a long time that you would arrive, for I knew 



CIRT 
II KW 



l^i\ . FICTION 323 



you were coming. Now, nephew, I have a game which I always 
play when anyone visits me — it is a foot race. We run from one 
end to the other of the narrow opening." " I have nothing to bet," 
replied Doonongaes. " Oh I " replied the old man, '' bet your head." 
"Very well," said Doonongaes. "Wait a while," said the old man; 
" I will tell yon when I am ready," and he went into another room. 
Doonongaes, making himself invisible, followed him. The old man 
had a bark canoe there, in which was a living thing that seemed to 
be without bones, being a mass of flesh about 2 feet long, in the 
shape of a lizard. As the old man rubbed his hand over it, a fluid 
resembling milk came out of the living object, with which the old 
man rubbed his hands and his whole body. Doonongaes also rubbed 
him.self with the juice before going out. Then the contestants placed 
themselves at the end of the opening, whereupon the old man said, 
" I will start just as the sun comes to the middle of the sky." They 
stood watching until the sun was exactly in the middle of the sky. 
'ihen they started. The old man. throwing out his arms, pushed 
Doonongaes far back. The latter, springing up. however, soon 
overtook the old man, and catching him by the neck, threw him 
back, saying, " That is what I do when I want to win." They ran 
on until the middle of the afternoon, when they readied the other 
end of the opening. At sunset Doonongaes was back at the starting 
place, where he staid all night. In the morning the old man came, 
and Doonongaes said : " I have won. Now I will take off j'our head." 
" Well," said the old man, " I will have a smoke first." "° " Oh, no," 
said Doonongaes, cutting off the old man's head at once. 

Then Doonongaes continued his journey northward, traveling for 
two days and nights. When he tired of walking he turned into 
a long horned snake. Soon, seeing a great black cloud coming' with 
rain and thunder, he thought, " Hinon '"' wants to kill me "; hence he 
went down into the earth so far that Hinon could not reach him. 
After staying there a good while, he said, "I must go on"; so he 
changed himself into a man again on account of his dread of Hinon. 
He soon came to a river, on the bank of which he stood, wondering 
how he was to cross. He went along the bank to the point where the 
river entered a lake. There he thought, " I must change myself intO' 
a snake and go into the water." After crossing he became a man 
again so Hinon would not pursue him. 

Doonongaes journeyed on a whole month. One morning he came 
to an opening called Gendagwen (t) ,^"'' where he saw nothing. Having 
passed through this he saw a woman. He ran forward swiftly, but 
could not overtake her. She went with such speed that they were 
the same distance apart at night, when he thought, '.' I can not catch 
her, so I may as well camp." Picking up some dry sticks, he made 
a fire. On looking around he saw that the woman had camped just 



324 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. axx. 32 

ahead. " Oh, pshaw ! " thought he, " I will go there." He started, 
but as he advanced so did she. When he came to her fire there was 
no one there, so he said, " I will stay here." Soon he saw another 
fire ahead, which he knew to be the fire of the woman whom he was 
following, whereupon he said : " I am ashamed to stop here, so I will 
go on." He reached the second fire, but no one was there. Then 
he said, " I will go back to my own fire and stay there." When he 
reached his camping place the woman was back again at her first 
fire. He followed her all the next day, always at the same distance. 
On reaching an opening she went into a lodge. Following, he 
found her sitting on one side of the fire, and an old man on the 
other side with his head liowed. Seating himself near the woman, 
Doonongaes asked her, "Do you not want to marry me?" She 
made no reply. He asked again, "Will you marry me?" He 
asked three times, but received no reply. Then the old man, who 
was a Dagwanoenj-ent (i. e., Cyclone), raising his head, said to the 
girl : " You have brought home game. Wash my big kettle, grand- 
daughter, and boil some water, and I will kill the game." At this 
he began to sharpen his flint knife, whereupon Doonongaes ran 
out, with the old man following him. Doonongaes mused : " What 
trouble comes to ;ae : I shall die aow. This is because I tried to 
catch the girl." The old man was close upon him now, and as he 
lifted his knife to strike, Doonongaes stepped aside, so the old man 
cut his own knee. He fell down on accoi.nt of th» pain, but sj-itting 
on his hands, he rubbed the wound, thus curing it instantly. Then 
springing up, he ran on. All day he followed Doonongaes. Many 
times h^ cut himself as hj did the first time, but always healed the 
wound vrith spittle. At sunset Doonongaes said. " *Vhat a shame! 
i ought to kill that man " Turning himself into a snake, he tore 
him to pieces.- As he threw off the lef,s, he said, "I want you to 
become owls," and away they fli^w, owls. He made the old man's 
flesh into all kind^ of birds.^^'' 

Then he said. " Now, I will go back to the girl : it may be that she 
will marry me." Reaching the lodge just at midniglit, he went in and 
said to the girl, " Your grandfather is dead." "Is that true?" she 
asked. "Yes. I have killed him," said Doonongaes. "Well, what 
do you want?" she demanded. " I want to live with you," said Doo- 
nongaes. " Very well," she replied; "I was afraid of the old man — 
this is why I did not answer your questions at fii'st." Doonongaes 
stayed with Ganos,'-"" for that was the girl's name, a whole month. 
Then he said one morning, "I must continue my journey." 

So Dooi.ongaes set out. and after traveling northward for 16 days 
and nights, he ,came to the edge -"' of ths earth. It was very cold 
there. As he looked around, he saw a lodge in which he found a very 
old man with white hair reaching to the ground all around him as he 



CURTI 
HEWITT 



r^] FICTION 325 



sat there. Doonongaes said, " I have come to visit you." The old 
man did not hear. Thrice Doonongaes spoke but received no answer. 
Then he looked for a club. Finding one, he hit the old man on the 
top of the head, saying. " Do you not hear me ? '' The old man never 
moved, uut muttered, " Mice must have fallen from above my head. 
No matter." Doonongaes, thinking what kind of man is this, 
struck him again. Thereupon the old man, lifting up his hair and 
tying it back so that he could see, asked, "What are you here for? " 
" I came to visit you," said Doonongaes. " I do not want a visit from 
you. Be off ! " he commanded. Doonongaes, who was nearly freez- 
ing to death from the extreme cold, retorted: ''Be quiet! do not get 
excited." " Oh I I do not care for other people," said the old man. 
" What did you come here for? " '' I came to ask a (juestion. Do you 
know where Deanohdjes lives?" asked Doonongaes. "Yes; he 
lives in the middle of the ice lake over yonder," said the old man. 
"Do you know whether he is at home today?" said Doonongaes. 
" Oh, you could not go to him today ; it used to take me 10 -"^ days and 
nights to go to his place," said the old man. " Is there a trail ? '" in- 
((uired Doonongaes. " Yes, you will find my tracks," said the old 
man, who was a white bear. 

Now it grew colder and colder while Doonongaes traveled half a 
day before he reached the place where Tsoditjgwadon's father lived. 
He found an open space in the ice. After standing there a while ho 
saw a man with great teeth rising from the water. The man said 
to Doonongaes, " Wliat do you come here for? " " Your son sent me. 
There is to be a great council at Broken Land. All the people of the 
world will be there," answered Doonongaes. " What is the council 
for?" asked Deanohdjes. "I do not know; your son has not told 
me," replied Doonongaes. " Well, I will start in 20 days from now," 
rejoined the elder man. 

Trembling with cold, Doonongaes turned back without delay. In 
1 -"^ days he was at Hanging Rock. Tsodiqgwadon asked, " Have you 
seen my father ? " " Yes," replied Doonongaes. " Well, what did he 
say?" was the next question. ''He said that he would start in 20 
days," answered Doonongaes. " Let us go to Broken Land," said 
Tsodiqgwadon. They started, but as they had 10 days' time and it 
was only one day's journey to Broken Land, they went southward 
to look around. The next day near sunset they saw a man coming 
toward them. " AVho is that coming?" asked Tsodiqgwadon; "he 
looks like a chief. What a great headdress he has! [He had long 
feathers and much wampum.] He looks like a great man. for his 
face is painted red and black." Doonongaes said, " Let us chase 
him." "What shall we do with him if we catch him?" asked 
Tsodiqgwadon. " I will take hold of his head and you of his feet, 
and thus we will stretch him," answered Doonongaes. " Very well," 



326 SENECA FICTI»N, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS ikth. ann. 32 

said Tsodiqgwadon. AVhen they met, Doonongaes asked the stranger. 
" Where are you going? " " To the north, to see the phice where Wliite 
Hair lives," was the reply. " AVhat would you do if I should 
wrestle with you ? " inquired Doonongaes. " Oh ! I should like 
that," he said. So they began to wrestle. Doonongaes threw his ad- 
versary ; and then, taking hold of his head and Tsodiqgwadon of his 
feet, the two began to pull, and they pulled until his legs and anus 
were stretched out to a great length. Thereupon Doonongaes said, 
"We will call you Gaisonhe."=" 

Leaving him, the two traveled on. The second morning they saw 
some one ahead, an ugly-looking man who had a gi-eat deal of 
wampum wound around his body. He was shooting arrows as he 
sat on a stone. Doonongaes and Tsodiqgwadon looked in the direc- 
tion his arrows were going and saw many deer standing there, but 
they noted that his arrows never struck one of them. Going up to 
the man, Doonongaes asked, "What are you doing? " "I am trying 
to kill deer. I have tried all the morning, but I can not kill one," 
said he. " Such a shot as you are can never hit anything even if he 
were to shoot 10 days," said Tsodiqgwadon, adding, " I will help 
jou." As the man shot, Tsodiqgwadon blew on the arrow, which went 
into the ground, at which Tsodiqgwadon said, " You will never see 
that arrow again." Immediately it took root and turned to Ohohwa 
Ohnoh.^"'^ Tsodi(igwadon changed the man into an owl, after which 
they went on. 

Just at midday the two came to a cliff. As they stood on the 
edge, looking down, Doonongaes said, " It seems as if some people 
live down there." Tsodiqgwadon replied : " I think so. Let us go 
down." When they reached the bottom, they saw that under the 
cliff was a plain, or openmg, with the cliff' hanging over one side of 
it. The plain had thi-ee points — a northern, a southern, and an east- 
ern. At each point there was a lodge. Doonongaes went south and 
Tsodiqgwadon went north. Looking into the lodge that stood on 
the southern point, Doonongaes saw an old man working at some- 
thing. " What is he doing making such a noise ? " thought Doonon- 
gaes. The old man, looking up, said : " This odor is like that of a 
man. How could anyone get in here, for my master guards the 
entrance to the cliff? " The old man, who was of the Odjieqda -"" peo- 
ple, was, making a wooden bowl. He went to work again, saying, 
" I will not waste time smelling." Doonongaes heard him, and, say- 
ing " I will make him waste his time," he thrust his horns under 
the lodge, and, lifting it into the air, threw it down so that it broke 
into pieces. The old man, however, still sat on the ground in the 
same place. Doonongaes laughed. The old man thought to him- 
self, "Who is that laughing ? " and, looking up, he said : " Oh ! that is 
S'hodieonskon.-"' Well, I will not do anything. I will go and tell my 



CUBT 
HE 



wi'tt] fiction 327 



master"; with this remark he started toward the entrance, while 
Doonongaes hurried off to the lodge at the eastern point of the 
opening. There he heard the sound of pounding, and peeping into 
the lodge, he saw four Odjieqda women pounding Odauhdjah-"' in 
stone mortars. The eldest asked, " Do you not smell the flesh of 
man ? " " Yes," replied the others. " AVell, hurry up, take your 
clubs and try to kill him," she continued. Doonongaes ran off, 
frightened. The women came out, but could see nothing but tracks. 
The old woman, whose name was Deiehnies,-"' said, '' Never mind ; he 
will come back." "That is a strange place," thought Doonongaes; 
" I will go back and see what they will do " ; so saying, he returned 
to the lodge. The women immediately loiew of his return, and old 
Deiehnies said, "Make haste, my daughter, and kill the game." 
When they came out they saw a man standing near the lodge. Then 
the old woman changed her mind, saying : " Do not bother him. It 
must be that he wants to marry — that is why he comes." One of the 
girls added, "Yes; let him alone," but the eldest said, "No; let us 
kill him." The two younger girls returned to the lodge, but the 
eldest, running up to Doonongaes, lifted her club to hit him ; he 
dodged, however, with the result that she struck herself "" on the 
knee, whereupon she fell down crying. At this the old woman came 
out, and taking hold of her by the hair, shook her, saying: "What 
are you doing? If you want to kill the game, run after it." Then 
the old woman ran up to and struck at Doonongaes, likewise hitting 
her own knee and falling down crying. Doonongaes now went to 
the lodge where the two younger girls were and they stood up near 
him, for they liked him. As old Deiehnies and the eldest girl came 
in, the women began to fight. Going outside, Doonongaes watched 
the fight. They fought long and hard, but had not finished when 
Doonongaes set fire to the lodge; before the women knew it, the 
flames were so fierce that they could not escape, so all were burned to 
death. Thereupon Doonongaes said to himself : " Why did they try 
to kill me? They did not know what kind of a man I am. Every- 
one ought to be kind when I come. I will go to find Tsodiqgwadon." 
Doonongaes now went to the lodge in the north, but he found no 
one. He heard, howfever, a sound as of ball-playing. Following the 
sound he came to an opening, where he saw his friend playing ball 
with two old men of the Dagwennigonhge -" people. It was a close 
game, and Doonongaes stood watching it. Soon they ran past him, 
and Tsodiqgwadon called out. " Why do you not help me? There are 
two against me " ; so Doonongaes joined in. The old men played well, 
but Doonongaes and Tsodiqgwadon won. Then Tsodiqgwadon said. 
■■ Take the wager. Cut their heads off." " Very well," replied Doo- 
nongaes, " that is what I like." So he cut off their heads, and throw- 
ing them into the lodge, then burned it up. The heads burst and 



328 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. anx. 32 

Dagwanoenyents-^^ rushed forth. Now the cliff began to crumble, at 
which Doonongaes exclaimed : " Let us go quickly ' This cliff may fall 
and bury us under it.'" Doonongaes and T.sodiqgwadon ran out as 
quickly as possible and were barely outside when down came the 
cliff. Doonongaes said. "The man from tlie first lodge ran out at 
this opening." As they stood there looking carefully around they 
saw a lodge, in the doorway of which sat a man. whereupon Tsodiq- 
gwadon said : " That man's name is Hahnyusdais.-^^ He is the master 
of the dwellers under the cliff, and he kept them as prisoners." " Let 
us go up and see the fellow," answered Doonongaes. When they 
went to the lodge. Hahnyusdais asked. " What did you come here 
for?" " I came to ask you a question," retorted Doonongaes. " Well, 
wait imtil I smoke," Hahnyusdais replied, and taking out a stone 
pipe, he began to smoke. Doonongaes continued, " I came to ask 
you what has become of the men you had under the cliff which has 
just fallen in ? " "I will go and see," replied Hahnyusdais. As the 
plac« was full of earth he could not look in, and he said to Doonon- 
gaes, "Do you not belong to the Dagwennigonhge people? " " No. I 
do not," was the answer. The old man then inquired : " AVhy is this 
place full of earth ? I went in some time ago, but I can not go in now. 
A man named Deagonstwihes "* came out of here a little while ago and 
then went back. I suppose he was buried in there." Doonongaes be- 
gan to laugh at what he had done, saying to Tsodiqgwadon. " Let us 
chase and catch Hahnyusdais." "What shall we do witli him?" 
asked Tsodiqgwadon. " Oh I stretch him," came the reply. There- 
upon they caught him. and Doonongaes taking him by the head and 
Tsodiqgwadon by the feet, they pulled in order to stretch him out. 
Hahnyusdais screamed: "Oh, stop! I do not want long legs. T 
want to be as I am." But they only pulled the harder, Hahnyusdais 
growing longer and longer, until Doonongaes said. " This man now 
belongs to our people; he will be Haunhdji.""= 

Leaving their victim, the two then went toward the east. At mid- 
day they met the two men who had been sent to track the Laughing 
Man^'" after he had killed Doonongaes. "What are you doing?" 
asked Doonongaes. They replied: "We are tracking tlie Laughing 
Man, who Icilled our chief. We were sent to track and to kill him. 
AVe shall never stop until we catch him. Here are his tracks." 
" Who was your chief ? " said Doonongaes. " Doonongaes," they re- 
plied. Doonongaes, laughing, said, " Do you not know that when 
S'hodieonskon dies he comes to life again in a short time?" "No," 
replied the men, whose names were, respectively. Hatkwisdowanen *'' 
and Hushewathen.-'^ " We do not know that. We never heard the 
old people saj' that,'" they answered. " Well, two days after J died 
I came to life. It is no use to pursue the Laxighing Man any longer. 
You will not catch him, but he will never kill me again. You would bet- 



/ 



CDRTIN, 
HEWITT. 



J FICTION 329 



ter go home," added Doonongaes. The two men said. " Thank yon for 
cur freedom : we are at liberty now to go where we please." " I should 
like to take a smoke," said Doonongaes; '' I used to have a pouch,^^" 
but I do not know now where it is." " AVell," said Hatkwisdowanen, 
" when you died two men were sent to your lodge to get your pouch. 
I think that the chief, Hagondowanen,-'" has it now." " I will bo at 
his jjlace tomorrow," replied Doonongaes. "We are going to have a 
great time at Broken Land. Will you not be there '( " " It may be 
that I shall, if I do not get killed. I suppose my wife is enraged be- 
cause I have been away so long," answered Hatkwisdowanen. 

Hatkwisdowanen and his friend now started for home, while 
Doonongaes and Tsodiqgwadon went on eastward. At nightfall the 
latter came to a lodge, within which they heard some one singing, 
Oncn f/(i!/ice(/on saicadhjon heniyon ganyoh.--^ '" AVhy does that old 
woman sing so? " asked Doonongaes. " Let us run through this hut," 
he added. "Oh, pshaw!" answered Tsodiqgwadon; "what is the 
use of chasing people all the time? " " I will tell you why I like to 
do it," answered Doonongaes. "All people get angry when they see 
me and try to kill me, so now I am going to kill all the people I 
can." Tsodiqgwadon remained outside while Doonongaes went into 
the lodge, crying out, " Now I have come back." The old woman, 
whose name was Gonyahsgweont --- and who belonged to the Nos- 
gwais^-^ people, raising her head, said, "It seems as if some game 
creature was talking in my lodge." Looking around and seeing Doon- 
ongaes, she said: "What are you doing in here? There is no use 
troubling me, for I have never chased you." She knew he was S'ho- 
dieonskon, and that he always chased and killed people. She began to 
w^. but, going behind her, he held her by the .shoulders when she tried 
to turn around. Then catching her by the feet, he pulled her out of 
the lodge. " Do not make sport of and trouble me," cried the old 
woman; "I am po»r, but I have ne^■er harmed anyone." "Why do 
you sing in that way, then?" asked Doonongaes; "I thought you 
was the woman who killed all kinds of game." " I was feeling 
happy, that is why I sang," answered the old woman. At this 
Tsodiqgwadon said, " You would better let that old woman alone." 

So Doonongaes left the old woman and the two went on. When 
they met peo]ile they changed themselves to resemble those people. 
They were magically, the most powerful persons living. Tsodiqgwa- 
don was greatly superior to his friend in this respect, possessing the 
greatest orendu in this world. All were afraid of him because he 
could do anything he liked. All at once Doonongaes said : " My neck 
feels bad. It has been sore for a long time." " When did it become 
soi-e?" asked Tsodiqgwadon. Then Doonongaes told about the two 
old sisters Gwidogwido. and said that ever since he had lifted and 
carried away their lodge his neck had troubled him. " You must 



330 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.32 

have been bewitched by their lodge,'" replied Tsodiqgwadon : "let 
me feel your neck ? " When Doonongaes held his head down Tsodiq- 
gwadon saw the end of a Hint knife. He tried to pull it out; he 
continued to try all night long, and just as the sun --* arose he drew it 
out. " There ! I have it," said he. " The wizards bewitched you. 
There are many more wizards than you know of. I have cured you 
now for life." Taking up the knife, Doonongaes looked at it and 
said. " How strong I am to carry so long a knife in my neck so many 
years." 

Continuing their journey. Doonongaes and his companion soon 
came to a village where no one was found, although smoke arose 
from every lodge's smoke-hole. " This must be the place I visited 
once before," said Doonongaes ; " there is something very mysterious 
about it." " No, there is nothing mysterious here," replied Tsodiq- 
gwadon. "The place is always kept this way. It is kept for people 
who are traveling around the world, so that when they come to this 
village they can eat whatever they like. It is called Yondekhon- 
yatha Ganondayen." -^ "Who has arranged all this? " asked Doon- 
ongaes. " A Great Power "° in the Blue Sky made this village, so 
every man could eat here," answered Tsodiqgwadon. " Very well, let 
us eat, then," said Doonongaes. So. going into one of the lodges, they 
took meat in a bowl. When they were ready to eat, Tsodiqgwadon 
began to laugh. "Why do you laugh?" asked Doonongaes: "you 
said this belonged to all people who are on the trail." Tsodiq- 
gwadon had now become what Doonongaes was — that is, S'hodieon- 
skon — and he said, " I will go outside for a moment." While Tsodiq- 
gwadon went out, Doonongaes began to eat. At that moment he felt 
that someone was there! On turning around, he saw a Stone Coat ■'' 
sharpening his chert knife — yes. he saw several sitting around, 
all sharpening their chert knives. " What are you sharpening your 
knives for ? " asked Doonongaes. " We are goin^ to kill you," came 
the reply. " Wait until I am ready. Give me fair play," said 
Doonongaes. "All right," was the reply. " but you must hurry up." 
He went to the woods where he found Tsodiqgwadon, who. laugh- 
ing, asked, " Did you see anything to frighten you? " " Yes; I have 
a fight on my hands," answered Doonongaes. " Well, I am going 
en," said 'J'sodiqgwadon ; " all the help I will give you is to tell you 
what kind of a weapon these people are afraid of. It is a basswood --^ 
knife." " Should I not make a flint club? " asked Doonongaes. " No; 
that would not hurt them a bit. IMake a basswood club," came the 
answer. Doonongaes made, thei-efore, both a basswood knife and a 
club, and then, going back to the Stone Coats, he said, " I am 
ready." When t*^ey saw his basswood knife and club they were ter- 
ribly frightened, and ran off as fast as they could towaid the north, 
chased by Doonongaes. The first one he overtook he hit on the head 



•CDBT 
HEW 



S] FICTION 331 



with his club, whereupon the Stone Coat crumbled clown to the 
ground, dead, with his body and coat smashed to pieces. Doonon- 
_gaes treated the next one in a like manner and so on until he had 
overtaken and killed them all — men, women, and children. Then 
he said: "This is the kind of man I am. Why did Tsodiqgwadon 
leave me^ I can chase him, too, when I find him." At that moment, 
hearing someone behind him, he looked around only to see Tsodiq- 
gwadon, who asked, "What are you talking about?" Doonongaes 
replied, " Oh I I was saying that you are the best friend I have in 
the world," 

Once more the two went on together, and the ne.xt morning they 
came to a rock which was so iiigli that they could not see the top of 
it. Doonongaes now changed himself into a buck, and rubbing his 
horns on the rock said, " I can kill Hinon --° if I see him." At that 
moment Hinon came out of the rock, and standing before him, asked, 
"What were you saying? " "Oh! I said that the man who lives in 
here is the best friend I have," answered Doonongaes. Tsodiqgwa- 
don stood on one side, laughing. Believing Doonongaes, Hinon 
went back into the rock. 

The two friends now continued journeying toward the north. 
Tsodiqgwadon said to his companion. " I want you to stop fooling 
everybody, for you do not know what orenda other persons have; 
you may get into trouble some time." Toward night they came to a 
lodge in which many old men lived. These were singing a war 
song, Ogioenion denkenoonk ganyohshon enkhegcn hei/oendjadeh.'^" 
All sang the same song. Assuming the form of this people, who were 
Gendagahadenyatha,-'' Doonongaes, going into the lodge, began sing- 
ing a war song, too, but with different words. He sang, Deaun ni 
d aegwanoenk Onen neho agyon heonwe niswaiiyon.-^'^ Thereupon the 
old men began to talk, and the chief of them said : " What does this 
man sing? He is an enemy. Let us scalp him." Springing up and 
seizing their flint knives, they ran after him. Tsodiqgwadon stood 
outside, laughing. Doonongaes became a snake, and when they saw 
this the old people ran back, for they were too small to fight such a 
man. Tsodiqgwadon said to Doonongaes, " Let them alone." "No; 
I will settle this people," answered Doonongaes. " You would bet- 
ter let them alone. It is not right to act in this way all the time," 
replied Tsodiqgwadon. " Let us go on then ; there is no use in 
standing here if you will not harass these people with me," said 
Doonongaes. 

Traveling toward the east, the two companions soon saw a large 
man coming, in their direction. When they met him they spoke to 
him, and the man said to Doonongaes : " I have come to tell you 
that you are not doing right in attacking people. You may strike 
your friend." At this Doonongaes struck Tsodiqgwadon, knocking 



332 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth. anx. 32 

him down. The large man laughed, saying, " That is what I like.'" 
Tsodiqgwadon jumped up, whereupon the stranger said: "You 
must strike back," so Tsodiqgwadon struck Doonongaes. "Now. 
you must say bad words to each other and scold," said he. They 
began to scold, and threaten, and talk fiercely. "That is enough." 
said the large man. " You can go now, and whatever people you 
see as you go around the world, pursue them; that is what I like. 
T am always near you as you go along." Then the lai'ge man, whose 
name was Nanishconon,--" went off' toward the west. 

Tsodiqgwadon and Doonongaes now started for Broken Land. 
The former said : " That is why I always tell you to stop chasing 
people. You see now. We met this large man on account of your 
hurting people. He likes such things. Stop your fooling and be 
like me. Tomorrow is the day of our council meeting." When 
they reached Broken Land Doonongaes said : " Here is where I was 
killed, and I will show you where the man lived who brought me 
to life, and to whose lodge I went and killed him." " Is that what 
you do to people who help you?" -said Tsodiqgwadon. "That is 
what I did to him because he was trying to keep our two most 
beautiful women," Doonongaes replied. " What did you do with 
the women?" asked Tsodiqgwadon. "I lived with them until you 
told me to go with you, and that all women belonged to you," was 
the reply. "Did I tell you that?" said Tsodiqgwadon. "Yes, you 
did," retorted Doonongaes. At this Tsodiqgwadon laughed. " What 
are you laiighing at? " asked Doonongaes. "I am laughing because 
1 fooled you so when I said that to you," rejoined Tsodiqg^^'adon. 
"You will not be angry, then, if I go to them?" said Doonongaes. 
" Oh ! you can go if you like," was the reply. " Very well, I will 
go now," declared Doonongaes. " May I visit you until tomorrow? '' 
aslifid Tsodiqgwadon. "No; I think you would better not," was 
the answer. "All right; I can stay here until the time comes for 
the council." said Tsodiqgwadon. Going to his mother-in-law's 
lodge, Doonongaes asked, "Where are your daughters?" "Oh! 
they have gone back to their first husbands," said the old woman. 
"Have they forgotten me?" asked Doonongaes. "You know,"^ 
answered the old woman, "that you have been gone a long time. 
They waited two years for you." " Well, I have been all over the 
world. I thought they would wait until my return," declared 
Doonongaes. " Stay here and I will go for them." said the old 
woman. She went to her elder daughter, to whom she said, " Your 
husband, the great chief, has come back." " I will go to him," re- 
plied the woman. Then going to her second daughter, she said. 
" I have come for you : your husband has returned." The daughter 
said, "My husband is here." "Not that one," replied her mother; 
"I mean the great chief." "I loiow; but I waited a long time for 



fe 



CnBTIN, 
HEWITT 



] FICTION 333 



him. I should be ashamed to go from this husband now," she 
added. " Oh ! " said the old woman, "this man you have now is not 
worth anything; he has not a bit of wampum." "I will go, then," 
said the girl. " but do not tell my husband." So she dressed up and 
made a bundle of her things in preparation to go away. " Where 
are you going?" asked her husband. "To my mother's lodge." 
" Very well," said he, and off she went. 

AVhen the two girls reached their mother's lodge, after greeting 
Doonongaes, they began to talk to him. One asked. " Where have 3'ou 
been for so long a time?" " Oh ! I have been to the northern, south- 
ern, and western ends of this earth," replied Doonongaes. " Do you 
know what there is going to be tomorrow?" she asked. " No; wliat is 
it?" asked Doonongaes. "They are going to have a great council," she 
replied. "What kind of council T' he inquired. "Oh! to appoint 
another chief. They will take the chieftaincy awa}' from Tsodiq- 
gwadon and put somebody else in your place as second chief," was 
the answer. "Why so?" demanded Doonongaes. "Because you 
chase all the people living in the world," she replied. Now Doonon- 
gaes began to feel sad; he sat there with his head down, thinking 
until night. Then he made up his mind, saying, " Well, if they do 
put me out I will always be S'hodieonskon." The next morning he 
felt better, because his mind was made up. As soon as they were 
through eating, all the people went to Broken Land. 

When they had assembled Doonongaes arose, saying, " I believe all 
are now present." Thereupon Tsodiqgwadon arose. He told them 
what the council was for, and said to the people, " You now have to 
choose a head chief and a second chief for the whole world, and 
every village is to choose a chief for itself." But Deanohdjes had 
not yet come. Then one man, arising, said, " I should like to make 
Deanohdjes ^^* head chief." They talked the question over; one-half 
were for Deanohdjes and the other half against him. Only one man 
remained silent. Remarking, "Well, I can say nothing until to- 
morrow," Tsodicjgwadon then adjourned the meeting. The next 
morning Deanohdjes arrived. When the council assembled Tsodiq- 
gwadon arose and said: "All are now present. Now, my father, are 
you willing to be the head chief of the whole world?" Deanohdjes 
hung his head, while the people all were silent. Then, raising his 
head, he said, " I can say nothing for 10 days." So the council 
adjourned and met again in 10 days. Thereupon Deanohdjes said: 
"I will tell you my mind. Put this duty on Doonongaes; make him 
head chief of all the world." Doonongaes was delighted, but 
Tsodiqgwadon said, " He is too mean a man for that ; he is S'hodieon 
skon." " If he is made head chief of the world he will change," re- 
plied Deanohdjes. " He who is most powerful in orenda should be 
head chief," said Tsodiqgwadon; " Doonongaes has not much power." 



334 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. an-x. 32 

" Well, you have more orenda than anyone else in the world," said 
Deanohdjes, to which Tsodiqgwadon retorted : " I do what the people 
wish. They said they were going to appoint another chief, anfl I 
supposed they had found some one who is magically more powerful 
than I am." Then Tsodiqgwadon, addressing the meeting, said. 
" Take the person who you think has the greatest orenda." Some 
one then said: "Let us adjourn for 10 days, for onl}' oui- own people 
are present now, while others who are coming should l»e here. Let 
Ilaiwanenqgwi -" ' be sent to all the people of every kind in the woild 
to notify them of the council." Accordingly he was sent, and the 
council was adjourned. After going all over the world, as lie 
thought, he came back. "Have you been everywhere?" asked 
Tsodiqgwadon. " Yes ; the w orld is not so large that I had need of 
many days to visit all its parts," replied Haiwanenqgwi. " Have 
you found every known people?" was asked him. " Yes, excepting 
one; I have not seen these," he answered. "Who are they?" asked 
Tsodiqgwadon. " The Dagwanoenyents," Haiwanenqgwi said. " Oh 1 
did you not go to Gaha Gastende,'^" where the high rocks are in the 
east?" inquired Tsodiqgwadon. " No; I thought no one lived there," 
he replied. " Well, you must go there, for that is the place where 
the Dagwanoenyents live," declared Tsodiqgwadon. 

Haiwanenqgwi started again. On reaching the foot of the moun- 
tain he met some of the Dagwanoenyents, who roam all over the region 
of AVind Cliff, and to them he said, " I have come to notify your 
people that a council is to be held at Broken Land in 10 days from 
now." The chief answered, " You stay here until I call a meeting, 
so you can tell all the people, for if 1 should deliver the message 
they might not believe me." So sajdng, he went on the mountain 
to a place where these people always held their meetings; it was a 
smooth place without trees or grass. Soon the people began to 
appear, and when all had come, there were hundreds and hundreds 
of them. Haiwanenqgwi, rising, said, "I have come to notify your 
people that a council will be held at Broken Land 10 days hence and 
that you must all be present." In response all said, " We will be 
there at the appointed time." Then the meeting adjourned and all 
went home. When Haiwanenqgwi returned to his home Tsodiq- 
gwadon asked him, "Have you now notified all kinds of people?" 
He replied, "Yes; all those whom I have ever seen." Thereupon he 
was asked, "Have you notified the Stone Coats?" To which he 
answered, "No; where do they live?" Tsodiqgwadon told him, 
saying : " They live on Gahsgwaa Tgawenot,-^' far off in the west. 
After you have been there go to an island in a southerly direction 
therefrom called Othegwenhdah Tgawenot ; ^^^ there you will find 
other people. Thence you must go in a southeasterly direction until 
you come to Oosah Tgawenot."^ The people of this island are called 



^„TJS] FICTION 335 

Gaisonhe.^*" Thence go southward again and you will come to Nit- 
gawenosaticha,-" where the Djinonhsanon '^' people live. Just be- 
yond Nitgawenosatieha you will find Tgawenogwen,^*^ where the 
Onowehda "** people dwell. Be sure to notify all the people on these 
islands. Then go toward the east and you will reach a large island, 
on which you will find the Djisdaah people: this island is called 
Djisdaah Tgawenot.^*' Thence go northward and then return here 
as soon as possible. Do not delay on the way." These were the 
instructions of Tsodiqgwadon. Haiwanenqgwi, answering, " Very 
well," started westward. 

When he came to the end of the earth at the west he remarked 
to himself, "What shall I do to reach Gahsgwaa Tgawenot ? " -*" 
Then he quickly assumed the form of a snake, and, going into the 
water, swam about half way to the island, when loud thunder and vivid 
lightnings made him halt, whereupon he said. " I think that Hinon 
wants to kill me, so I will change myself into a Hahnowa." As soon 
as he had become a Hahnowa, Hinon stopped his threatenings, and 
the sky cleared off, and everything became as bright as ever. He 
reached the Gahsgwaa Tgawenot, or Stone Island, when he again 
assumed the form of a man. Going on, he met a person to whom he 
said, " I have come to notify your people that we are going to have 
a great coimcil at Broken Land 10 days from now." " Well, where 
is your wampum?" he was asked. "I have none," said Haiwan- 
enqgwi, who asked in turn, " Where is your chief?" " Go westward," 
he was told. " and you will come to a large opening in the rocks — 
there you will find our chief." He came to this opening, and on 
looking in, saw a very old man sitting there. As soon as he stopped 
at the edge of the opening, the old man, looking up. said, " What 
do you want here? " Haiwanenqgwi replied, "I have come to notify 
you that our people will hold a great council at Broken Land, and 
that our head chief sends for you to come there in 10 days from 
now." " Very well, I will come with all my people," answered the 
old man. 

Assuming the form of a Hahnowa, Haiwanenqgwi now went over 
the water until he came to the next island, which was called Othe- 
gwenhda Tgawenot. Here he assumed the form of a man, and 
going to the chief, whose name was Hoonkgowanen,-*' he said, " I 
have come to invite you to a great council, which is to be held at 
Broken Land in 10 days." The chief replied, " Verj' well ; we will 
be there on time." 

Then Haiwanenqgwi, again assuming the form of a Hahnowa, 
went over the water to Oosah Tgawenot.^*** At this place he found 
Shayades,^*" the chief of the people who dwelt there. To him Haiwan- 
enqgwi gave the invitation to be at the great council at Broken Land 
in 10 days, and then he went on to Nitgawenosatieha. Soon he met 
some men who took him to their chief, whose name was Deanohs- 



336 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [r/ni. a.nx. 3Z 

gwis.^'^" Having given him the invitation, tlie chief accepted it, say- 
ing, " We will go to the council." 

Haiwanenqgwi next went to Tgawenogwen.-'*' Changing himseli' 
into Onowehda,^'^ he stood around for a time, but, not seeing anyone, 
mused to himself: "When shall I be able to see these people? It 
must be that I have missed the place." But as he stood waiting. 
some of the people appeared. He learned that they dwelt in the 
ground, and that their chief's name was Hononhengwen.-^" On re- 
ceiving the invitation, the chief promised in the name of his people 
to go to the great council at Broken Land. 

Then Haiwanenqgwi went to Ganehdaiikhon Tgahadayen -^* Tga- 
wenot, where the Degatengowa -'^^ people lived. There he saw one of 
the men standing in the air,' at which he wondered what he was stand- 
ing there for, concluding at last that this man must be possessed of the 
most powerful orenda to be found on the island. Soon a person came 
to him and conducted him to the chief, to whom he announced the 
invitation to the great council at Broken Land. The name of this 
chief was Henhgadji.-^" The invitation was willingly accepted. 

Haiwanenqgwi now went to Djisdaah Tgawenot,^^' where the Djis- 
daah people lived. There he assumed the form of one of these people. 
Having met a man, he said to him, " I have come to notify you of a 
great council to be held in 10 days at Broken Land." But the man 
told him that he must go to the chief. " Well, take me to him. 
then," he replied. "Go straight ahead," was the answer: "you will 
find the lodge yourself, for I can not go with you." So Haiwanenqgwi 
went along farther and soon came to a lodge in which sat an old man. 
large and solemn in appearance; this was the Djisdaah chief. When 
he drew near, the old man, raising his head, said " Well, what news 
do you bring?" "I bring an important message to you and your 
people," he answered. " Oh ! wait then. Let me get some tobacco 
and light my pipe."^^* So saying, he took a large bunch of oak 
leaves — these were his tobacco — and. beginning to chew them, he said, 
" Now, I am ready to listen to your message." Thereupon Haiwan- 
enqgwi gave him the invitation to the great council. The chief, 
whose name was Hodehondasiowanen,'^^ said, " AVe will be there at 
the appointed time." 

Haiwanenqgwi then ran homeward all night, reaching Broken 
Land in the morning. Once there he declared, "I have now visited 
all the peoples on the earth." But Tsodiqgwadon asked, "Have you 
visited Gaasyendiet'ha -•"' yet ? " " No, I do not know where he lives," 
he replied. " You must, however, go to him. Bring me an arrow," 
said Tsodiqgwadon. The arrow having been brought. Tsodiqgwadon 
split the head, and after making Haiwanenqgwi small, placed him in 
the head and closed it, fastening it securely. Then Tsodiqgwadon 
said to the arrow : " I want you to go to the place where Gaasyendie- 
t'ha dwells. There you will find a Great Rock of white chert or flint, 



CUKTI 
HEWITT, 



^] FICTION 337 



which is red-hot; under this stone is a cavern in which Gaasyendiefha 
lives. This rock is on the edge of the Blue Sky, where it meets the 
waters, just where the sun sets. Gaasye>ndiet'ha carries this stone 
with him when he travels in winter so that he can break the ice as 
he goes; it is called Gaonhiahge Tgastendeh.-"' There is no earth 
Ihere; only stone. I want you to go directly to the Rock in the Blue 
Sky." Then stringing the bow% he shot the arrow westward. The 
arrow, now alive, went flying through the air until it came to the 
end of the sky, where it saw the Rock in the Blue Sky. On coming 
down it struck the hot rock. The man who lived under the rock 
said, " Something has come down on my ball," and pushing off the 
hot rock, he came forth. Thereupon Haiwanenqgwi, coming out of 
the arrowhead, said to Gaasyendiefha, " Tsodiqgwadon sent me to 
ask you to be present at a council to be held in nine days from now 
at Broken Land." " What is the council for? " asked the host. " To 
appoint a new chief for all the people under the Blue Sky," came 
the reply. " Very well," said he, " I will go." Gaasyendiefha asked, 
" How did you come, for I have never known any man to be able to 
come up to the Rock in the Blue Sky before? " " Oh ! I came in the 
arrow," answered his visitor. " Well, then, I must send you back 
m the same manner," replied Gaasyendiefha. "All right; I will 
have to return that way," said Haiwanenqgwi. In picking up the 
ari'ow Gaasyendiefha found that its head was split, so seizing Hai- 
wanenqgwi and shaking him to reduce his size, he was finally able 
to reinsert him in the arrowhead, wherein he carefully secured him. 
Having done this, he cast the arrow eastward and it flew away. In 
a short time it came down at the feet of Tsodiqgwadon, who had not 
moved from that place since he had shot the arrow westward. When 
Haiwanenqgwi came forth he was asked, " Have you notified all the 
people now? " He replied, " Yes; I have, so far as I know, notified 
all the peoples under the Blue Sky." But Tsodiqgwadon declared: 
" No; you have not; there are a large number yet who have not been 
notified of the gi'eat council. You must now go eastward to the place 
where Tkwendahen Niohsiowesiohden ^''- lives. This place is situated 
on an island called Gaahgwa Tgawenot,^**^ which is located just where 
ihe sun rises. The chief of this place is called Djahgwiyu.^''* When 
you have performed your errand here you must go noithward until 
you find another island, which is called Ohnonqgon(t) -"^^ Tgawenot. 
The name of the chief of the people who dwell here is called Djihtk- 
wahen Niothwahasyohden.-'^'* When you have finished your errand 
here you must go northeastward, and you will reach an island which is 
called Gainhdoya '" Tgawenot ; and the name of the chief who 1 i ves 
on this island is Djihtkwahen-^' Haos. After you have notified him, 
take a westerly course, visiting an island which is called Hahnowa -<'' 
94615°— 18 22 



338 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. anx.32 

Tgawenot, and on which all kinds of Hahnowa people live. The 
name of their chief is Honohtsagagiyit.-'" After giving him your 
message you must go northward to Ohneqsah ^" Tgawenot, where all 
kinds of Sowekshohon ^" people live, the name of whose chief is 
Hahnyahses,^'^ who is of the Awaeh -'^ people; and when you have 
delivered your message to all these people, thence start southwest- 
ward and return home." 

Haiwanenqgwi then set out for Sun Island. There he saw after 
a while one of the Djahgwiyu -'^ people coming toward him, where- 
upon he thought: " AVhat can this mean ^ Is the world going to 
burn up? " But soon he saw that it was Tkwendahen ^'° Niohsiowe- 
siohden himself, who said, "What have j'ou come for?" Haiwa- 
nenqgwi replied, " Oh ! Tsodiqgwadon, the chief of the world, has 
sent me to notify you and your people of a council to be held at 
Broken Land in eight days from now." "Very well; we will be 
there," declared Tkwendahen Niohsiowesiohd^n. 

Then Haiwanenqgwi went to Ohnonqgon(t) Tgawenot, and after 
that he reached Gainhdoya Tgawenot. When he arrived there he 
saw five men fishing. For a while he stood watching them, think- 
ing, " What beautiful belts these men have." When they saw him 
coming thej' threw reeds ^" at him to bewitch him, to make him sore, 
and to cause him to swell up. When the reeds pierced his body, 
at once he began to swell and to suffer great pain. At last, to escape 
from them, he leaped into the water, where he remained until the 
pain was gone, and then, coming out. he said to these men : " Be 
quiet I I have not come to harm you. but I have been sent to you 
to notify you that there will be a great council at Broken Land 
eight days from now, and that Tsodiqgwadon wishes to have you 
come." In reply these men said, "Well, we must first go to tell 
our chief before we can give you an answer." When the chief was 
told of Haiwanenqgwi's mission he promised faithfully to be pres- 
ent with his advisers. 

Haiwanenqgwi went next to Hahnowa Tgawenot, where he deliv- 
ered his message, and then he retraced his steps homeward. Having 
arrived there, Tsodiqgwadon asked him. " Have you now notified 
all the peoples of the world? " " Yes; I have notified all," was his 
reply. "No; you have notified only half of the tribes of men. 
You must now go up to the Land in the Blue Skj', called Gaonyahge -'* 
Diyoendjadeh. and you must go in a southerly direction. This 
land is very high, and you can not get there until orenda for that 
purpose is given you. The kS'hadahgeah ^'^ people dwell in that land, 
the name of whose chief is Odahnoqgwiyah ^^^ Haos. You will tell 
him first, and then go westward, where you will find seven ^"^ men 
living on the clouds; these seven men are Hinon people.. The elder 
one and chief of these people we call Shedwaqsot.^*- After you have 



CUBT 
HEWI 



l^i] FICTION 339 



given your message to these seven men, you must go straight up 
until you reacii the central part of the Blue Sky, and directly above 
the Blue Sky you will find a man whose name is Hahasdensyowanen.^*^ 
And when you have told him your message come straight down to 
the ground. Directh' under the door in the center of the Blue Sky 
you will find an opening in the earth. In this opening you will 
find an Odonseh ^^* man, whose name is Shagoewatha ; ^^^ notify him 
also. A short distance from this opening you will see a high rock, on 
which you will find the tallest of men, whose name is S'hagodi- 
yoweqgowa.-*" You must summon him, too. Thence go farther along 
the rocks, and you will reach the dwelling place of the chief Ganiag- 
waihegowa.'^*' You must notify him also, and then you must return 
here." Tsodiqgwadon gave Haiwanenqgwi a small piece of a sub- 
stance which resembled flesh, and which possessed great orenda. 
In giving it to him, Tsodiqgwadon said, " When you desire to use 
this, you must chew it," adding further directions as to the manner 
of its use. ' 

Placing this mysterious substance in his mouth, Haiwanenqgwi at 
once mounted higher and higher. In a verj' short time he had 
reached the Land in the Blue Sky. When he arrived there he looked 
around, and while doing this S'hadahgeah saw him, and an Oqtcih- 
gah ^** Ongwe asked him whence he came. " Oh ! I came from below," 
was the answer of Haiwanenqgwi. " How did you get up here? " was 
asked him. " I walked on the air," he answered ; " and I have come 
to notify you that there will be a great coimcil at Broken Land to 
be held seven days from now. You must all come." 

Thence Haiwanenqgwi went westward, passing through the air, 
and soon came to a lodge situated on a cloud. Entering the lodge. 
he saw therein seven men of the Hinon people, who were all smok- 
ing, so the lodge was filled with smoke. He gave his message to the 
elder man, whose title was Shedwaqsot. and who assured him that 
they would all go to the council. 

From that place Haiwanenqgwi went straight to the middle of the 
Blue Sky, where there was a door. Passing through this, he saw an 
old man sitting there, whose name was Sadjawiski ; ^'^^ he also was 
smoking. Haiwanenqgwi said to him, " I came to notify you of a 
great council to be held at Broken Land seven days from now." 
"Very well; I will go," said the old man. "I have been waiting a 
long time for you, because I knew that you were coming and knew 
what your message would be. My brother, Shagoewatha, ^'■"' knows 
that you are coming to see him, too. Wait a few moments ; a man ^°^ 
will pass here soon; tell him too of the council." Soon a man came 
on the run from the east ; when he arrived where the old man was he 
stopped. This man was Odjisdanohgwah,^"- but the people whence 
Haiwanenqgwi came call him Gaaqgwaah,^*^ for he gives light to the 



340 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. S2 

world.' In reply to the invitation to attend the council he said. "It 
is well: I will attend," and continued on his journey: he did not 
seem to care for Haiwanenqgwi or for Sadjawiski. 

Now Haiwanenqgwi came to an opeiiing directly under the door 
in the Blue Sky, far down into which he went. Tltere he saw an old 
man called Shiigoewatha, to whom he said, '' I have come to notify 
you of the great council to be held at Broken Land in seven days 
from now." The old man replied, " It is well: I will attend it." 

Next Haiwanenqgwi went up and notified 8'hagodiyoweqgowa, who 
.said in reply, " I have been wishing for a long time to meet all kinds 
of people, so I will surely go." Later Niagwaihegowa "'■'* also prom- 
ised to be at the great council at the appointed time. 

Now Haiwanenqgwi went home feeling quite happy, thinking that 
he had completed his task. But when he reached home, Tsodiqg- 
wadon asked him, " Have j'ou now notified everybody ? " He replied, 
" Yes; so far as I know." " No; you have not. You must go to an- 
other country, situated directly east of this, which is a great island 
on which are many people," declared Tsodiqgwadon. " It is well," 
said Haiwanenqgwi (who did not desire to go, although he could 
not help doing as he was commanded); "Iwill rest tonight and 
start in the morning." " You may do so," added Tsodiqgwadon. 

Early the next morning Haiwanenqgwi started, walking on the 
ground, but when he came to the water at the end of the earth he 
walked on the air until he arrived at Tgawenosdenh,-"^ where he saw 
many kinds of people, whom he notified, and then returned home. 
On his arri\al there, Tsodiqgwadon asked him, "Are you now 
through with your task ? " " Yes," replied the messenger. " No ; 
you have not yet finished your work," declared his questioner. 
" You must go to Othowege,-''^ where the chief Hathogowa -"' dwells, 
in the far regions of the north. You will have to travel on the air in 
order to go there and return in one day." 

So Haiwanenqgwi went on the air until he reached Othowege, 
which was a very cold place, for the wind was blowing and the 
snow was falling all the time. Hathogowa, the chief, was naked 
(he looked like a human being), and there were a great numbrt" of 
the Otho-"* people. Haiwanenqgwi delivered his message to all. In 
i-eply to the invitation they said, "It is well; we will go to Broken 
Land." 

Haiwanenqgwi thence veturned home. When he arrived there 
Tsodiqgwadon said to him, " You are not yet through with your 
task." " Well," replied the messenger, " I will wait until tomorrow, 
for I am so tired that I can not start today." So then next morning 
Tsodiqgwadon gave him further instructions, saying to him : " I 
want you to go to Onenonhge,"" where Dedioshwineqdon '""' lives. To 
get there you must go directly to the southern end of the earth." 



S'J"™-] LEGENDS 341 

The messenger started, following the coiu-se indicated. At last 
he found a beautiful country, which was very warm and full of 
flowers, and he saw there a large number of people who looked like 
Ongwe Honwe.'"' He gave them his message. " It is well," they 
said ; " we will attend the council." 

When Haiwanenqgwi reached home he declared that he was not 
able to go anywhere else. Thereupon Tsoditjgwadon, laughing, said 
to him, " Now, my friend, your work is done." 

When the 10 days were e.xpired all the people from all parts of 
the world came in great numbers — from the four quarters and froin 
above and from below — from the east and west, north and south. 
They gathered about their several stations around the great council 
fire. At noon, when the sun was high in the blue sky, Tsodiqgwadon 
arose and asked, "Are you, the peoples of all the world, now present?" 
They answered him in chorus, " We are present." Thereupon Tso- 
diqgwadon said: "I will tell you what this council is called for. A 
chief of all the peoples dwelling al)ove and below is to be chosen, 
and it is for you to select one." Now the tribes of people talked 
among themselves and one with another; but Tsodiqgwadon sat 
still, listening to wiuxt was said. They talked until night and then 
they talked all night. They remained a whole year, talking day 
and night. At the end of the year they chose Gaasyendiet'ha ^"^ as 
chief of all the people of the world above and below. • All agreed 
to this choice, and Gaasyendiet'ha himself was willing. When this 
was done they had to select a second chief. Another year was- 
passed in talking. Tsodiqgwadon sat in the midst of the vast 
throng, listening all the time. At last Hinon was chosen as the 
.second chief. Then Tsodiqgwadon said, " Who shall be chief of 
each locality? " Then each tribe sat togethei'. talking among them- 
selves. The first to complete theii' deliberations were the Stone 
Coats,'"^ who chose Ongwe Hanyos,-'"^ one of their own people. The 
Ongwehonwe were the next: they chose one of their principal men, 
and the other, peoples chose the same chiefs as they had before. 
Tsodiqgwadon was chosen chief of the Snake People only. The 
council then closed and all went to their homes. 

LEGENDS 

59. GexonsV!w.4™» 

Once there was a village in which it was the custom of the people 
to fight a great deal, for they were very warlike. A strange boy 
came to this village; he was small and perhaps 4 yeai's old. No one 
knew whence he came. He could do nothing for himself, but he 
wandered around the village, staying here and there in the several 
lodges. First one family then another would keep him for a little 
while. The people did not care much for him. nor pay much atten- 



V 



342 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. AWN. K 

tion to him. Finally he grew to be a young man. There was at 
this time a good deal of talk among the people about getting up a 
party to go on the warpath. At last 20 men were found who were 
willing to go. This young man, hearing about the party, asked per- 
mission to go, too. He asked one and then another, but all refused 
his request. Thereupon he said : " I do not care. I will go any- 
how." He was so peculiar that no one really liked him. 

The 20 warriors started and he went along with them. AVhen 
night came, fires were built; there were two men at oach fire, but the 
boy built a fire for himself. Sevei'al days passed in this way. One 
night, however, wiien all were asleep, the young man had a dream. 
A man appeared to him, who said: "I have come to warn you that 
if you do not change your jourse somewhat you shall all perish to- 
morrow at noon. Tell this to the headman of the party and urge 
him to change his course." They were then going northward. The 
boy told his dream tlie ne.xt morning to the headman, who scolded, 
saying: "I did not want this fellow; he is nothing but a hindrance, 
nothing but a coward. We have come to meet an enemy. Why 
should we turn back even if we know there is one in our path?" 
So, after eating their morning meal, they continued northward, pay- 
ing no heed to the warning in the young man's dream. 

When the sun was near the middle of his path across the sky. the 
party, which was going in Indian file, noticed that the headman 
stopped, then the next one, then the next. The boy, who brought 
up the rear, found that they were looking at a track, saying : " It is 
Ganiagwaihegowa, which always kills the people it meets. Its magic 
power is so great that the instant anyone looks at its tracks, no mat- 
ter how far off, Ganiagwaihegowa knows it, and returns to destroy 
that person." As the boy listened, he said : " I am very anxious to 
see this bear. I have never seen such a thing." The men said, " You 
do not want to see so terrible a thing;" but he insisted. The chief 
said; "If this is really your wish, you must not follow us. We shall 
turn off here and go in a different direction, and you can go on north- 
ward; but if you meet this bear you must run in some direction, some 
course different from ours." They tried to make him go with them, 
but he would not do so. 

Breaking a small tree that stood near, the young man hung his 
bundle in the crotch ; then he went on. Soon he saw a tremendous 
object ahead of him; when near it, he recognized it as a great bear, 
sitting on the trail, with its back toward him. Creeping up, the 
young man stood looking at it. It had no hair on its body, only a 
"little on the end of its tail.^"" He struck it with his arrow, whereupon 
the bear rushed after the youngster, who ran away. The bear drew 
so near as they ran that the youngster could feel its breath. Now 
he dodged from tree to tree, then, darting off straight, he ran on 



c 

HE 



i'^",?S] LEGENDS 343 



swiftly, with the bear close behind him, until he came to a stream 
which looked very deep. They two could just jump over it. So the 
youngster sprang across, and the bear leaped after him. Then the 
youngster sprang back to the other side and the bear did the same. 
Thus they jumped across many times. Now as the young man ran 
he felt that his strength was growing greater, while he saw that that 
of the bear was failing. Seeing the bear failing fast, the youth, 
making a great loop, sprang once more across the stream, with the 
bear after him. Then he made a loop on the other side, and on going 
across the river, he saw the bear still weakening. Pursuing the same 
course once again, he passed the bear about the middle of the stream — 
he goinj5 one way, and the bear the other. The bear did not follow 
by sight but by scent alone. Lastly, the bear did not cross the 
stream, but followed all the boy's tracks. Now, the beast had failed 
so much that the youth was just behind it as it kept tracking him. 
As the bear almost failed in trying to jump across the river, it 
scrambled to get a footing. Then the boy shot from the bank be- 
hind, the arrow entering the middle of one of the animal's forefeet.'"' 
At this ihe great bear scrambled to the bank ; then reeling from tree 
to tree, it staggered and fell. Rising again, the beast struggled for 
!'. time, but at last it rolled over dead. 

The young man left the bear's carcass after he had taken three 
hairs from its "whiskers" and one tooth out of its mouth. Then 
going back to the spot where he had left his bundle and getting it, 
he followed the trail of the twenty men. Running fast, he overtook 
them, whereupon he said. " I have killed Ganiagwaihegowa, of wliich 
you were so much afraid." They were naturally greatly astonished, 
for no man had ever been able to kill this creature, so they said: " If 
he has done this, he must have great orenda. Let us go back and 
see." So they turned back, and after traveling until sunset they 
came to the place where the body of Ganiagwaihegowa lay. They 
saw that it was of enormous size, and said: "We will burn up the 
body; we will keep up the fire all night until it is burned. Then 
each man shall take a little of the ashes and a few of the bones, ju.st 
enough for medicine to give him its magical power." After the tii-e 
had gone out, the men went to sleep ; in the latter part of the nisht 
they stirred the ashes with sticks until each found a piece of bone. 
The chief said: "You must be very careful aljout taking the rem- 
nants of this bear. Let each one before taking up his bone say what 
gift he wants, what power he desires." Most of the men desired to 
be good hunters and brave warriors and some to be fast ruimers. 
One man said, however, " I want to be admired by all women." 

The things the young man had chosen were good for every pur- 
pose, but he did not let the others know that he had taken anything. 
The headman said, "We will go on in the same direction; that is, 
toward the north." The men had changed their opinion of the 



344 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.82 

young man; they now looked on him with respect as a person of 
great magical powers. The party traveled many days. 

One night thoy camped and lay down to sleep. The young man 
dreamed again, and his dream said: "Tomorrow at noon you will 
meet an enemy of greater number than your own party, and among 
them will be a very large man of great magic power; he is so much 
larger than the rest that you will easily know him. You must all 
fight him. If your party does not believe you, when you tell the 
dream to them, do not mind that, but keep on in the same direction 
you are going, and at noon they will know the truth. AVhen you 
see the enemy let every man hang up his bundle; let no one keep his 
bundle. Then liegin to fight, and keep on until you concjuer." In 
the morning the young man did not tell his dream. He thought 
that it was useless to do so. They started on after eating their 
morning meal. When the sun was well up in the sky, they saw 
a bear get up, stretch himself, and look at them, saying, " We have 
now met, and we shall get what we want." Thereupon the bear 
turned and disappeared. It was evidently one of the enemy, who 
had come to warn them. The headman talked to his men, saying 
that the enemy was probably near, and that they should be of good 
courage, and that they would conquer the enemy. So they went 
on. Before very long they saw the enemy, and the enemy saw them. 
A war whoop was heard; then the arrows began to fly. The young 
man said : " Now let every man hang up his bundle on the tree." 
After this was done, the fight began. The young man, remembering 
his dream, watched for the large man. Soon he saw him, and 
noticed that he had a sort of medicine which he held up in front 
of his face like a shield, a little to one side, to ward off the arrows. 
The young man also saw that the man's defense was larger^"* than 
the one he himself had (it was known that the smaller it was, the 
more power it possessed), and the j'outh felt sure of success when 
he became aware of this fact. (The magic power, or orenda, was 
born with the boy. as it was with all the Genonsgwas — a tiny hand 
to be put in the ijalm of his own hand.) Just at that moment the 
large man of the enemy, discovering the young man, said: "You 
will get what you deserve now, you Stone Coat. I will kill you, 
and thus pimish you (for treachery)." They watched each other, 
paying no attention to the rest of the people, for each was eager 
to kill tlie other, but they could not hit until they came hand to 
hand. They began to strike with clubs and made a terrible fight. 

Finally, the young man, snatching the stranger's club, hurled it 
away and threw him down. When the enemy saw their chief nuin 
overpowered, they began to run. The j'outh kept on until he had 
killed the big man. A large number of the enemy were killed, but 
not one of the 20 men was injured. Having piled up the dead ot 



^T^^'t't] legends 345 

the enemy, they burned them. The victors secured a great string 
of scalps (the big man was not a Genonsgwa; he was merely a very 
lai'ge and strong man with magical powers). 

The warriors now had great respect for the young man, and 
when they came home and told everything, the respect of the people 
increased so that he was made a chief. The people thought of him 
as a Genonsgwa, though he did not look like one; they remembered 
only the big man's words. 

Now, another expedition was spoken of and many volunteered, 
but only 30 were taken, for that was as large a party as was required. 
All were ready. The women had pi'ovisions prepared for them. 
Starting out, they went toward the noith, as before. 

On the third night the young man. now a chief, dreamed that 
some one came to him, saying : " Tomorrow night when you camp 
the enemy will be camped near by, and you will discover each other. 
(It was not the custom of Indians in those days to attack in tlie 
night, but always just at daybreak.) Now be you ready, all of 
you, as soon as daylight is dawning and attack the enemy. Be sure 
that you attack and not theyP The next morning Stone Coat, the 
chief, told his dream (he knew the warriors believed hini then) 
word for word. That night when they camped, they discovered 
the enemy not far away, also arranging a camp. During the right 
few of the warriors slept, for they felt anxious, and some were afraid 
of an attack, though it was not the. rule to attack in the night. 

Toward day the chief told all to get ready. When light was 
dawning they started. Oa stealing up they saw that the enemy also 
were making ready, whereupon Stone Coat told his men to make a 
circle around the camp, saying at the same time, " When we are 
almost around I will raise a whoop; then let all give the war cry 
and attack." The chief discovered that the enemy had a warrior 
among them, who was a larger man than the others, and saw that 
he had a shield to ward off arrows. Noticing that it was about the 
same size as his own, he said to the men, " You miist fight des- 
perately, for I do not know how we shall come out." The headman 
of the enemy shouted to him : " You are among these men ; you are a 
Stone Coat ! I am determined to kill you." (The big man had 
no name. The chief did not hold up his shield.) As they came 
nearer and nearer and finally met, the chief and the big man first 
used their peculiar clubs. Then they grappled, and the chief of the 
30, seizing his antagonist, pulled out his arm,^"" which he threw away ; 
but immediately it flew' back. The man in turned pulled otf the 
chief's arm. hurling it away, but it flew back to its place and it was 
as it was before. While they fought, the shouting of the enemy died 
away; once in a while there v^as a shout and it could be known from 
the sound that the people were being killed. Now the chief pulled 



346 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS (eth. ann. 32 

oflf the man's head and tore off the flesh ; then he kept kicking away 
the pieces as they came back. It so happened that if the fragments 
of flesh could ,be kept away until cool, their strength died, so that 
they could not come back. Hence the chief continued to fight 
in this manner until at last he killed the big man. When the fight 
was over, and the few of the enemy remaining had run away, only 
1.5 of the chief's men were left, as 1.5 had been killed. The survivors 
piled up the bodies, and this time they threw earth over them, as so 
many of their own people were among the dead. Then all started 
for home, where they remained a long time. 

When the chief had reached the prime of life he said : " I am 
getting well advanced in years and delight in warfare. I want to 
have one more expedition, then I shall be satisfied." People vol- 
unteered to go and 40 were made ready, for that number constituted 
as lai-ge a party as was wanted. These started, going toward the 
south. (The people the_y fought with came from the south.) The 
young man had a dream, in which a man said: "I have come to tell 
you that you are to have a difficult time, for a man will br among 
the enemy who is very powerful, and I am unable to tell you whether 
you will conquer him or not. Tomorrow at noon you will meet the 
enemy, and just 1 efbre noon an owl will come on your trail, saying, 
' Be ready ; your enem_y is at hand.' Then you can get ready to 
fight." Having told his dream in the morning, they started on. 
Toward noon they heard the hooting of an owl; it flew along their 
trail, and alighting on a tree, said : '' The enemy is near, and they 
have made this expedition to fight, as you have. Then each of you 
will be .-;atisfied." The chief said : " Get ready immediately. Hang 
up your bundles. I do not know how we shall come out if the man 
keeps on throwing me; if he throws me twice, run." While they 
were hanging up their bundles the war whoop was given by the ad- 
vancing enemy. Now, as the dream had foretold, the chief saw the 
strong man, and realized that he was stronger than he was himself. 
As they were nearing each other, the opposite side kept calling out: 
" AVe have come to destroy you. You have destroyed all our other 
expeditions; now we will finish you." The chief and the strong 
man met and fought first with clubs. Then, clinching, they strug- 
gled a long time. At last the chief was thrown : then the strong 
man struggled to keep him down, but the chief, arising, threw his 
enemy, who barely touched the ground before he was up again. The 
next time the chief was thrown his men began to run, but turning to 
look, they stood watching the two men fight.' They saw their chief's 
arm pulled off, but it flew back into place: then his head was thrown 
off, whe*-eupon they saw he was weakening; so some ran home, but 
five remained in hiding. The enemy began to walk around, gather- 
ing up the pieces of the head, for they thought all the opposing 



Zwiri] LEGENDS 347 

party had run away. The hve who were concealed saw them gather 
the flesh and limbs of the chief, for now they had killed him. Then 
the five heard the voice of the enemy saying, " We will hold a council 
and give thanks for conquering this man, who has destroyed so 
many of our people." So saying, they began to get ready to do this; 
they made a circle and the pieces of the chief's body were placed in 
the center. They were to give thanks by singing the war song. A 
man rose and sang, and as he sang he went toward the chief's 
feet; when the song was ended he went to the head, saying: "You 
have been conquered. We shall have peace now." Then he struck 
the pieces of the chief's body with his club, saying, " Thus I will 
punish you." At that moment the pieces flew together, becoming 
the chief again, who, springing up, killed five persons, and then, 
lying down, fell apart. Each one of the enemy said : " I think this 
man did wrong in wishing to punish a warrior after he was dead; ^^° 
this is why we have lost five of our men. We would better kill this 
man befoi-e he brings us more bad luck ; thereupon they cut off his ' 
head. Then they sang the war song again, but no one raised a club or 
other weapon against any dead man while they were gathering up 
the corpses. Of the chief's men 10 of the 40 got home. They said : 
" The friend whom we depended on is killed, and we would better 
remain at home hereafter and only defend ourselves. If our enemies 
desire to fight, they must come here to fight with us." These people 
lived in peace after that. 

60. The Grandmother and her Grandson 

An aged grandmother and her grandson lived by themselves in a 
lodge in the forest. When the grandson had grown to be quite a 
large boy his grandmother said to him: "Here are a bow and a 
quiver of arrows. They were formerly used by your uncle, who was 
killed by a great witch. So take the bow and the quiver of arrows 
and learn to use them." 

The next morning the grandmother said to her young charge: 
" Now, go out and try to kill some birds. You may go as far as you 
like, but do not go northward." ^" Then she gave him a breakfast of 
parched corn, which hunters were accustomed to eat, for on such a 
meal they would not become hungry so soon as on any other kind of 
food. Starting out, the young grandson went through the woods 
shooting birds. By the middle of the day he decided to go home, 
feeling that his grandmother would be delighted because he had 
killed so many birds for their meat. Having retvirned to his home, 
the lad showed his grandmother the string of birds which he had 
killed. She was much pleased with his success, and dressed the birds, 
pounded corn for bread, and made hominy, in which she cooked the 



348 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ixs. 3? 

birds. When these things were done they two ate tlieir evening 
meal. 

The next morning the grandmother again gave her grandson 
])arciied corn to eat, and wlien he liad eaten she, cautioned him once 
more against going northward. By the middle of the day he had 
killed a larger string of birds than on the previous day. so he went 
home to his grandmother. She greeted him at the doorway with tiie 
words, "I thank you, grandson, for your success, for we are well off 
now and shall have plenty to eat." That night, however, she talked 
.seriously with him, cautioning him in these words : " My grandson, 
you must always hunt only to the southwai'd from here. You must 
never go to the northward, for many dangers lurk theie which may 
cut us both off, for you and I are the only persons of our family who 
are left from destruction by sorcery. So if you are obedient and 
listen to my words of caution to you. we shall probably live." 

The ne.xt morning after his usual breakfast of parched cornmeal 
the grandson started off. On that day he went farther away than 
on any previous daj's, and he saw many different kinds of game, such 
as he had not seen before. AVhile animals of a certain kind wei-e 
feeding he managed to get around in front of them, and taking good 
aim. he killed one with an arrow. The rest of these animals esca])ed. 
He went up to the dead game animal, and pulling out his arrow, 
cleaned it in the manner in which he had been instructed bv his 
grandmother. Then stripping off bark from a neighboring tree 
and tying the game animal, so as to carry it the more easily on his 
shoulders, he started for liome. When he reached the doorway of his 
home, he said to his grandmother, "I have larger game this time." 
She was delighted with what he had brought home and thanked 
jiim for his prowe.ss, saying, "This is what is called Ohsoon."^'- 
Having carefully dressed the game animal, the grandmother, after re- 
serving part of it for future use, cooked the remainder. When it 
was cooked they sat down together and ate it, while the grandmother 
continued praising her grandson. 

The next morning she sent him off again, as she had done so many 
mornings before. But he had to go a long way this day before he 
was able to find any game. By the middle of the day, however, he 
again met with an Ohsoon, which he killed. Ha\ ing secured it to 
his body with a bark sling, he started for home, remarking to him- 
self, " Oh I how far away the game animals have gone from home." 

As usual, the next morning he started off to hunt. But after he 
had gone a short distance he began to think and wonder: " AVhy 
does grandmother forbid my going to the north ? Yet game is get- 
ting scarce in the south? " Finally he came to the conclusion that he 
would then and there disregard the injunction of his grandmotiier. 
So he changed his course to the northward. Soon he found a large 



CUKTIN 
. HEWITT 



] LEGENDS 349 



number of birds. But he had not gone much farther before he heard 
some one call: "Hallo, nephew! I have caught you."' Looking uji, 
he saw a man sitting on a resting place formed of the tops of several 
trees, which had been drawn and tied together in a tuft or sheaf of 
branches. There the man sat as if he were in a basket. " Well, my 
nephew," he continued, "what would you do if it should rain 
spears?" The young man replied, "Oh! we should be very thank- 
ful for them, for we need some." Then the young man ran home- 
ward as fast as he could. Having arrived there, grasping his grand- 
mother by the hand, he dragged her along with the remark, " Oh ! 
grandmother, we must run and hide." She answered him. " Oh ! 
my grandson, you have been to the north, where I told you not to 
go." But he pulled her along as fast as she could go, imtil finallj' 
they came to a spring; leaping into this, they went along under- 
ground until they came to a rock. There they sat down and silentl}' 
waited a long time. At last the boy said : " I think that the .storm is 
over. Let us go home now." When they reached home they found 
the lodge leveled to the ground. The poor old grandmother said, 
" This, indeed, comes of your going to the northward, where I told 
you not to go." But the grandson coolly remarked : " Never mind. 
Oh! grandmother, I will soon have a lodge here." Then walking 
around an area as large as he desired the lodge to be, he exclaimed, 
*'Let a lodge at once fill this space of ground." Hardly had his 
words died away before a lodge, complete in all its appointments, 
stood there. Then the grandmother and her potent grandson entered 
it and they two lived in it, more comfortable than they were before. 
The next morning, after having eaten his breakfast of parched 
torn, the youth again started off southward to hunt. But taking a 
<*ircuitous course, he finally headed toward the north, remarking to 
himself, " I had some fan with my uncle yesterday, so I must go to 
see what he will say this time." Soon he saw so many birds and 
was so much occupied in killing them that he had forgotton about 
the man in the sheaf of tree-tops. Suddenly he was halted with the 
challenge, " Oh. nephew ! I have caught you. What would you do 
if I should send a shower of stones?" The youth replied, "We 
should be much pleased, for my grandmother often needs stones for 
pounding her corn for meal." So saying, the young man fled home- 
ward. Having arrived there, he grasped his grandmother by the 
arms and rushed her to the river, and then up the river to the spring. 
The grandmother scolded him as they fled, saying, " Oh I this is too 
bad, grandson; you have gone northward again." Then she would 
weep bitterly. At last, coming to the spring and descending into it, 
they crept along until they came again to the rock under which they 
took shelter before. There they sat until finally the youth said, " I 
think the storm is now over; let us go home." On reaching home 



350 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann.ss 

they found their kidge in ruins again. But the youth encouraged 
his grandmother with comforting words and commanded the erec- 
tion of .mother lodge as he had done in tlie first instance. 

The next morning after he had eaten his parched corn, he started 
out again to hunt. Taking a southward course for a time, he soon 
turned toward the north. As he went along he soliloquized, " I shall 
not hunt, but I shall make it my business to catch my uncle." After 
going some distance farther, he called a mole, to which he said, when 
it came to him : " I want you to take me to that tree yonder. You 
must go almost up to the man who sits on it. After I shall have 
spoken to him, you must bring me back to this place.'' The mole at 
once agreed to aid him. By shaking himself the youth reduced his 
size until he became as small as a flea ; then he got on the mole. The 
mole went to the foot of the tree indicated, whereupon the youth 
called out. " Oh, uncle ! I have caught you." The man looked all 
around but saw nothing. Again the youth shouted, " What would 
you do if a whirlwind should come ? " The man pleaded, " Oh, 
nephew ! do not be so hard on me as that." The youth replied, " Oh ! 
i did not beg that way when you asked me about spears and stones." 
Then the mole ran back to the place where he had found the youth, 
and the latter, assuming his natural size, ran home. Grasping his 
grandmother's arm, he rushed her to the spring. They both disap- 
peared in .its waters, going to their shelter under the rock. The 
grandmother kept scolding her grandson, saying, " It is too bad : you 
have been at the north again.'" There under the rock they sat imtil 
the youth had calmed the whirlwind, when they came up out of the 
water. They found the trees uprooted and their lodge in ruins. But 
the youth soon had a lodge in the place of the other by merely com- 
manding his fetishes and walking around the space of ground, as he 
had previously done. 

The next morning, after iiis usual preparations, the youth .started 
out southward from his home. When out of sight of the lodge he 
suddenly turned toward the north, with the remark: "I must see 
my uncle. I find the trees are all uprooted, and it must be that my 
uncle is buried under these fallen trees. So I can go to hunt in 
safety now." After keeping on his journey for .some time he found 
a large number of partridges, which he killed; then he started home. 
His grandmother was pleased to see him return quietly with game. 
After laying aside his weapons he remarked : " AVell, grandmother, 
I have destroyed my uncle. He is no longer on the tree." The 
grandmother replied, warmly, " Well, you need not think that he 
was alone in the world. He has a brother, who lives in a lodge 
farther north." The youth made no reply, but resolved what he 
would do in the matter. 



"ewS] legends 351 

Early the next morning the young man ate his breakfast of 
parched cornmeal, after which he started off, determined to tind 
his other uncle, who lived in a lodge. Reaching the place where 
the trees were uprooted, he found his first uncle dead. But he kept 
on his course until he came to an opening in the forest, in which 
he saw a lodge with smoke rising from the smoke-ho4e. Somewhat 
pleased, the youth said, " Well, I must go over there and take a look 
into that lodge, for that must be the place where my second uncle 
lives." Going directly to the lodge and opening the door-flap, he 
peered in, and said to an old man sitting inside, " Well, uncle. I 
have come to visit you." The old man calmly replied : " Come in, 
nephew. I have a rule which all who come here to visit me follow; 
that is, that we must run a race across this field and back again. 
We bet our heads on this race." The youth answered, "Well, if 
that is your rule, we will run the race at once." So they went out 
of doors. Drawing a mark across the opening, the old man said to 
the youth : " We will run to that red post over there at the end of 
this opening. If I can get back and across this line first I will cut 
off your head ; but if you return and cross it first you shall cut off 
my head. So be ready." At the line they stood side by side; then 
the old man shouted, * Now, go ! " They were off instantly and ran 
to the post. When halfway back to the line the youth suddenly fell 
to the ground, a sharpened deer's horn having pierced his foot.°^^ 
He sat down to pull it out. Having pulled it out, he threw it far 
ahead, and it came down right in the path of the old man, who had 
made considerable headway while the boy was sitting down. Now 
the old man, stepping on the horn, fell to the ground. While he 
was pulling out the horn, the youth, passing him, crossed the line 
ahead of the uncle, saying, " Oh, my uncle I I have won the race." 
The uncle disputed this, but when he found that it was of no use 
he begged for another smoke, but the nephew refusing him, he sub- 
sided. The youth took out of his pouch a sharp flint knife and, 
seizing his uncle's hair, cut off his head. Dragging the body into 
the lodge, he burned both lodge and body. As the fire died out the 
old man's head burst and out of it flew an owl. Then the youth 
went home and told his grandmother what he had done. But she 
replied, " You still have a third uncle, who is also a great sorcerer." 

The next morning the youth started off again, this time to visit 
his third uncle. On his way he passed the uprooted trees and then 
the burned lodge. Keeping on. he saw some distance ahead a lodge 
standing in a clearing in the forest. When he came to the edge 
of the woods, he found that the opening was large and that the 
lodge stood on the farther side of it. This, he thought, must be 
the lodge of his third uncle. When he reached the lodge, he looked 
in it. saving to a man sitting inside, " Well, uncle, I am here to 



352 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYIHS [eth. axn. 32 

\isit you." The man replied : " Oh nephew ! I am glad you have 
come.. I have a game to play. Everyone who comes here plays it 
with me. We bet our heads on the issue of the game." The youth 
replied, " Well, uncle, what is this game ? " " We hide right here 
in this room," answered the uncle. '' I will hide, and if you do not 
find me befoi* midday, you lose, and I will cut off your head: but 
if you find me, you will win. and then you shall cut off my head." 
The youth replied, " It is well." Then the uncle said : " Now you 
must lie down here on the ground, and I will cover you with an 
elk skin. When I am ready I will let you know." Thereupon tlie 
youth lay down, but after he had been carefully covered with the 
elk skin by his uncle, changing himself into a woodtick, he got on 
his uncle's neck. When the old man said, " I am ready," the wood- 
tick called out, " I have found you, my uncle." The old man thought 
the voice came from behind, so he hid again. Again the woodtick 
called out, " I have found 3'ou, my uncle." The old man looked 
everywhere, but he could not see his nephew; he saw no one. Once 
more the old man hid and was discovered. Thus he kept on until 
midday, as was his right. The old man. thinking all the time 
that the youth was still under the elk skin, wondered how he could 
find him so easily. He frequently ran out.^ide to see by the sun 
how near midday it was; then he would hurry back to hide. At 
last he decided to hide outside the lodge, but the youth called out, 
"That will not do, uncle; you said that we must hide in the lodge." 
It now being nearly midday, the old man was frightened, so with 
a long pole he pushed the sun off toward the east. Then running 
in, he hid again. But the youth shouted, " I have found you, my 
uncle." Again the sun was nearly overhead, and again the old 
man, running out, with the long pole pushed "" the sun toward the 
east and kept on hiding, but without success. He was discovered 
each time. At last when the sun was directly at midday, directly 
" at mid-sky," the youth called out to his victim : " Oh, uncle ! I ha\ e 
found you. I have won the game." Thereupon the old man begged 
for one more smoke, but the youth, knowing his purpose, would not 
let him have another. Instead, he proceeded to cut off his head: 
then he dragged the old man's body into the lodge, where he burned 
it. When the flesh had burned from the head of the old man, the 
head burst open and out flew an owl. Looking around this place, 
the youth saw large heaps of bones of ]5ersons whom the old man. 
having deceived, had killed and eaten. 

Then the youth went home and told his grandmother what he 
had done. Her only reply was : " My grandson, you still have a 
fourth uncle, who is more evil and more potent in oi'enda than 
the others. I advise you not to go near him, for I greatly fear 



^■^^w^it] legends 353 

that hi^rm will come to you." The grandson said, " I shall not go, 
grandmother." 

The next moi-ning, after eating his repast of parched cornmeal, 
he started, directing his course southward. But when he was out 
of siglit of his lodge he changed his course toward the north. 
Making a circuit around his home, he passed all three places where 
he had visited his uncles, and finally came to a fourth opening with 
a lodge standing in its center. Arriving at the lodge, he peeped 
into it ; thei-e he saw a man who was still older than his other uncles. 
Making his presence known, he said, " Well, uncle, I have come to 
visit you." The old nuui answered, saying: "It is well, my nephew. 
Come in and sit down. I have a game which I play with all those 
who come to visit me. I play the bone-dice game. Each has only 
one throw, and we bet our heads on the result. So get ready." The 
youth replied: "It is well, uncle; I will play with you. I will go 
out for a moment, but will retiu-n in as short a time as possible." 
Going to tlie river bank, and seeing a flock of ducks, the youth 
called them to come to him. When they did so, he said to them: 
"I have a bet, and I want you to aid me with your magic power. I 
desire six of you to lend me your right eyes ^^° for a short time. I 
will bring them back as soon as I make m^' throw." At once six 
of the ducks, I'emoving their right eyes, gave them to the youth. 
On his way back to the lodge the youth said to the eyes, " When the 
old man throws, some of you drop into the bowl with your sight 
down, but when I play you must all drop with your sights turned 
up." When he entered the lodge, he said to the old man, " We will 
play with my dice." The old man objected to the use of the dice 
belonging to the youth, but the latter insisted on his right to use 
his own dice, as the person challenged. They spread a deerskin 
on the ground, on which they placed a bowl. When the youth had 
put his dice into the bowl, he asked his uncle to take the first throw, 
but the old man was not willing to do so. After disputing for 
some time, however, the old man shook the bowl, whereupon the 
eyes, as ducks quacking as they flew, i-ose slowly to the smoke-hole, 
and then fell back into the bowl as dice, some right side up and 
others the wrong side up. Then the youth shook the bowl, and 
the dice flew up as ducks, quacking loudly, and going out of the 
smoke-hole, they disappeared in the clouds. The old man, as was 
the custom, sat, saying : " Let there oe no count. Let there be no 
count," while the youth cried out: "Let the count be five. Let the 
count be five." In a short time they heard the ducks coming in the 
distance, and then they soon dropped into the dish as dice again, 
all being right side up, at which the youth cried out, " I have won 
the game." The old man begged to be permitted to take one smoke 
94615°— IS 23 



354 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

more, but the nephew, refusing him, proceeded to cut off the old 
man's head with his flint knife. Then pLacing the head and body 
of the ohl man in the k)dge, he set it on fire. When the head burst 
open, out flew an owh Then the youth took the six eyes back to the 
river, and calling up the ducks to him, he moistened the eyes with 
spittle and replaced them in the heads (if the ducks. Thanking the 
ducks for the aid they had given him. he dismissed them, and they 
flew far away. 

The youth now went home, where he told his grandmother what 
he had done. After hearing his story she said: "I am well pleased 
with what you have done, my grandson. You can now hunt with 
freedom in all directions, for there is now no one to harm you. You 
had a number of brothers, but their uncles destroyed them without 
mercy." 

She sent him to hunt, as usual. Being now quite a man, he could 
kill deer, bear, and other large game, but he had to go so far away to 
find them that he always returned late at night. Not liking this, 
he thought of a method by which this might be avoided. He went 
into the forest, after telling his grandmother that he was tired of 
going so far to hunt, that he would merely sing, and that the game 
would come to him. In the forest he made arrows, and by the time 
niglit came he had as many white-ash arrows as he could well can-y. 

The next morning, bringing out a deerskin, he caused his grand- 
mother to sit on it. Then, covering lier head with the skin, he said 
to her: "Now, you must not look out. If you do I shall leave here, 
never to return." First, placing the great liundie of arrows on the 
ground outside the lodge, he began to sing: "Come to me, you elk. 
Come to me, you bears. Come to me, you raccoons. Come to me, 
you deer." As he stood singing, soon there arose a great com- 
motion in the forest, caused by the sound of many feet running 
toward the singer. The animals were coming from every direction. 
As they were drawn near him by his singing he began to shoot his 
arrows. When he had shot away about half of his arrows, and 
while the animals were near him — bears, raccoons, deer, and elk — 
and while hedgehogs were climbing the lodge roof, the grandmother, 
becoming frightened at the strange sounds, removing tlie buckskin 
covering- from her head, looked up through the smoke-hole to see 
what was the cause of the tumult. In an instant a great white deer 
sprang over the other animals, and. taking the youth on his antlers, 
ran off with him into the forest.^'" All the other animals followed the 
man, who was singing as they ran. Then the grandmother rushed 
to the doorway, and, looking out. saw all the game killed, but she 
did not see her grandson anywhere. Then she remembered his words,- 
but it was too late. 



CURT 
HEWIT 



S] LEGENDS 355 



While the great white deer was rushing through the forest a pack 
of black wolves came upon its tracks, and, soon overtaking it, killed 
both it and the man. The next morning the aged grandmother, 
in an attempt to repair the damage done through her lapse of memory 
and great curi(jsity, followed the tracks of the game in order to find 
her grandson. The game had beaten a broad trail through the 
forest as they ran. In the afternoon of the day the youth disap- 
peared the sky and clouds in the west appeared very red.^^' Seeing 
this, the grandmother exclaimed : " This is certainly an evil sign. My 
grandson is surely in trouble." This was the very time at which 
the great white deer and the man were killed. The grandmother 
followed the trail all that day until the evening at about the time 
she had seen the red sky and clouds the day before. Then she came 
ori the spot where her grandson and the deer had been killed. There 
she saw pieces of bloody deerskin, but not a bone, nor a bit of his 
body. Then she returned home in despair, weeping all the way. 

61. Heart Squeezing and the Dance of Naked Persons 

A woman and her son lived together in a lodge situated not far 
from a small settlement. The boy began his career by hunting small 
game, but he soon killed such large game that everyone was aston- 
ished at his prowess. As he grew older, he went farther and farther 
into the woods. His mother, however, always warned him against 
going toward the northeast, saying that an evil woman lived there. 

One day while hunting the boy thought, " I do not believe there is 
anyone who can overcome me magically," whereupon he determined 
to go toward the northeast. Starting thither, he soon came to an 
opening, where he saw a woman who sang out, " I have caught you, 
my brother," and at that moment the boy, feeling her in his body 
squeezing his heart, screamed with pain. Then the woman stopped 
an instant and then squeezed his heart harder than before, causing 
him intense pain. Just then he heard a woman's voice say, " Hurry 
home, and as you go, sing, ' I am going to have a naked dance ^'* and a 
pot.' " The young man did this, and as he sang he felt easier. When 
he got home his mother said, " You have been toward the northeast, 
although I told you that you would get into trouble if you went 
there." The mother immediately sent a messenger to tell her uncle, 
her mother's brother, what hr.d happened, and he inquired what the 
boy sang. The messenger told him, and he replied, " Tell his mother 
to notify everyone that she is going to have a dance of naked 
persons." 

All the people were notified accordingly. The old man came, and 
one by one all the rest assembled. Then the old man asked whether 
all the guests were there who had been invited. The woman, tho 
youth's mother, after looking around, said, " Yes." Telling the 



356 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

people to take off their garments, i.nd to dance facing the wall, the 
old man, seating himself in the center of the room, began to sing. 
When he had finished the song, he said, " That will do." Thereupon 
the dance broke up, the people dressing themselves and going home. 

The young man felt better, but he was angry with the woman who' 
had tormented him ; so he decided to go again and say to her, " I 
have caught you," before she had time to say it. The next morning 
he started off without telling his mother where he was going. When 
near the opening, halting, he called for a mole. In a short time the 
mole came, whereupon the boy said, " You must carry me to the spot 
where the woman is, but she must not see us." Keducing his size 
until he was quite small, the young man entered the body of the mole, 
which went beneath the surface of the ground. After a while they 
peeped out, but the woman was still far off. They went on again, 
and when they looked out a second time, they were quite near the 
woman. She had large eyes, twice as large as those of anyone else, 
which were red as blood, and whenever she said, " I have caught 
you," nothing had power over her. 

The boy told the mole to go underground, so as to come out just 
beneath her feet. The mole did so, and then the boy, exclaiming, " I 
have caught you ! " at that instant going into her body, squeezed her 
heart. She cried out with pain, " Do not squeeze so hard." He 
answered, " I did not say, 'Do not squeeze so hard,' wiien you 
squeezed my heart." Thereupon the woman hurried home. When 
near home she saw that her sisters were pounding corn for bread, 
and they noticed that she was crying, so one of them said, " I told 
you that that young man could not be beaten; you should not have 
touched him." 

One of the sisters, going to the same old man who had cured the 
boy, said, "Uncle, our youngest sister is very sick; she is singing. 
' I am going to have a dance of naked persons and a pot.' " The old 
man told her to invite the people to her pot. She did so, and when 
they were assembled the dance began. At the moment the old man 
said, " My song is finished," the young man squeezed the girl's heart so 
hard that she fell down dead. Coming out of her body, the young 
man went some distance before he became visible. He went home 
and was tormented no more. He could now hunt in any direction. 

62. Hot'ho, the Winter God'^° 

One day a man while out hunting met Hot'ho and said to him, 
" You can not make me freeze, no matter how cold you can make it." 
Hot'ho replied, " I can do that without much trouble." They had a 
long discussion of the matter and at last agreed that they would 
have that night a trial of strength. 



CUBTI 
HEW 



■,'tt] legends 357 



After reaching home the man carried in wood enough to burn all 
night; then building a huge fire, he made a large kettle full of hem- 
lock tea. When night came he stood before the fire ready for the 
contest. All night long there he stood, turning first one side and 
then the other to the fire and often drinking a cup of the boiling hem- 
lock tea. It was a terribly cold night and continued to grow colder 
until near morning. Just at the break of day Hot'ho, naked, and 
carrying his hatchet in a slit in the skin above his hip, came into the 
lodge, and sitting down on a pile of bark by the fire, said to the man, 
"You have beaten me;" and at that moment, growing warmer, it 
began to thaw. 

This shows that man can conquer Hot'ho, the god of cold weather. 

63. S'hagodiyoweqgowa and His Three Brothers^''" 

There lived in a lodge in the forest S'hagodiyoweqgowa and three 
brothers. In their larder they had an abundance of oil, venison, 
and bear's meat. Of the brothers S'hagodiyoweqgowa was the eldest. 
Not far from their lodge lived a brother and his sister. The brother, 
who was the elder, was also a turtle. 

One day the youngest brother of S'hagodiyoweqgowa said to his 
brothers, " I am going over to the lodge where the Turtle lives." 
His brothers, knowing the motive of the visit, replied : " It is well. 
You may go," for they thought it best that he should get married. 
So after making suitable preparations, he started, and soon he 
arrived at the lodge of their neighbors. He found the Turtle's sister 
at home. The visitor had slung over his shoulder a pouch that 
contained bear's oil. Sitting down near Turtle's sister, he said to 
her, " I want to marry you," but she made him no answer nor any 
sign of recognition. While he sat there waiting for her reply, he 
would dip his finger into the pouch on his back, afterward sucking 
off the oil. He patiently waited all day for her reply, and when it 
was nearly night she answered, " I have decided not to marry you." 
He did not press his suit, but said, " It is well; " then he went to his 
home. Having arrived there, his brothers asked him what success 
he had, and he told them. They answered, " It is well." 

Then the next elder brother said, " It must be I about whom 
she is thinking." The next morning he said, " I shall now go there ; " 
so he started. He found the sister of Turtle at home, and sitting 
down beside her, he said : " I have come for the purpose of marrying 
you. Will you consent to be my wife ? " Like his younger brotlier, 
he waited the entire day for her reply. When it was nearly night 
she made him the same answer as she had given his brother; he 
then went home. Having reached there, his brothers asked him what 
success he had, and he told them. They answered, " It is well." 



358 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [bth. ann. 32 

Then the third brother said, " It must be I of whom she is think- 
ing. I shall go there tomorrow." So the next morning he went 
to the lodge of Turtle, and finding the sister at home, he sat down 
beside her, saying, " I am here to know whether we can become man 
and wife." She acted toward him just as she had toward his broth- 
ers; so he returned to his home, where he related to them how she 
had answered him. 

Then Turtle, her brother, said : •' I think that we are now about to 
die. The next man who will come is S'hagodiyoweqgowa, the eldest 
of the four brothers. You have made a great mistake. You 
should have accepted the youngest brother. I would have consented 
had you asked me. The youngest brother is a good man, and he 
possesses great orenda. But the time is now past. S'hagodiyoweq- 
gowa has volunteered to come to ask you tomorrow to be his wife." 

The next morning S'hagodiyowe(igowa, saying to his brothers, " It 
has become evident that it is I of whom she is thinking," started to 
call on her at the lodge of Turtle. Finding her at home, he said, 
"My wife, I have come after you, so you must go home with me;" 
thereupon, seizing her arm, he attempted to pull her along with him. 
Being very angry, she bitterly resisted him. Turtle, her brother, 
was at one end of the fire, concealed under the ashes. While S'hago- 
diyov^eqgowa was struggling with the young woman as he held her 
by the arm, she managed her defense in such manner as to cause 
her captor to step on her brother, who at once bit his toe, causing 
him to release her. Then S'hagodiyoweqgowa said, " Brother-in-law, 
let go of my toe," but Turtle still hung to it. At that moment the 
visitor, taking his staff and putting his foot on the end of the firelog, 
struck Turtle on the head with the staff. As he did so, Turtle at 
once grew magically in size and in the strength of his bite. As 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa struck him again Turtle increased in size as 
before and his bite grew more painful. But S'hagodiyoweqgowa 
kept on pounding him, seemingly unaware that Turtle's size in- 
creased with his blows. Turtle continued to grow larger and 
larger and continued drawing in S'hagodiyoweqgowa until he had 
swallowed his entire body. 

Two days later vS'hagodiyoweqgowa came away, passing through 
Turtle's bowels. Thereupon Turtle said to his sister: "In 10'-' days 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa will regain his consciousness, and then he will 
pursue us. To run away is our only safety; so let us flee hence." 
Placing him in a basket, which she put on her back. Turtle's sister 
started away as fast as she could go. 

After the expiration of 10 days, as Turtle had predicted, S'ha- 
godiyoweqgowa regained consciousness and, looking around, saw no 
one there. Then finding the young woman's tracks, he pursued her. 
The fugitives had gone a long way when Turtle said to his sister. 



CUETI 
HEWITT 



r^;] LEGENDS 359 



" S'hagodiyoweqgowa is fast overtaking us and is now near us." So 
the sister iiept on in her flight, and as she got over a fallen tree 
Turtle said to her, " Leave me here, and you continue your course." 
Obeying her brother, she hastened on her way. 

Not long after her departure S'hagodiyoweqgowa came along. As 
he walked over the fallen tree he stepped on Turtle witaout seeing 
him, whereupon Turtle promptly bit him again. At this S'hagodiyo- 
weqgowa exclaimed. "Brother-in-law! let go of my foot; you are 
greatly delaying me on my course." But as Turtle gave no heed to 
what his brother-in-law had said to him, S'hagodiyoweqgowa decided 
to kill him, and raising his foot with Turtle hanging to it, he beat 
him against the fallen tree. But as before, striking Turtle only 
caused him to grow in size, until he finally became large enough 
to swallow his enemy a^ain. Turtle waited there for two days 
until he had excreted S'hagodiyoweqgowa; then he started on his 
way again. While the sister was walking along she was surprised 
to find her brother. Turtle, on a fallen tree. He had arrived there 
ahead of her by means of his orenda. 

After the expiration of 10 days S'hagodiyoweqgowa regained con- 
sciousness, and arising, said to himself, " I have now been aslepp a 
very long time and must continue my hunt"; so saying, he 
started in pursuit once more. The young woman was now growing 
faint and exhausted, and her brother said to her as she carried him 
along in the basket : " S'hagodiyoweqgowa is again overtaking us, 
and is now very near to us. Once more drop me by the first fallen 
tree that we come to." She obeyed and, leaving her brother near a 
fallen tree, kept on her way. 

When S'hagodiyoweqgowa came along in due time the orenda of 
Turtle caused him to pass within reach of the latter, who again 
seized his foot in his teeth. At this S'hagodiyoweqgowa said to his 
brother-in-law, " You are indeed hindering me greatly in my jour- 
ney, so let go of my foot," but Turtle paid no attention to this re- 
monstrance. So S'hagodiyoweqgowa decided again to beat him to 
death against the fallen tree. So he liegan to do this, but Turtle 
only grew in size until he was again able to swallow his brother-in- 
law. Turtle waited there for two days, and then having gotten rid 
of S'hagodiyoweqgowa as before, he went on in his flight. 

At the expiration of 10 days S'hagodiyoweqgowa, on regaining con- 
sciousness, said to himself, " I have now been asleep a very long 
time, and I must continue my hunt"; so he resumed at once pursuit 
of Turtle and his sister. In time the young woman again grew faint 
and exhausted, so her brother said to her as she carried him along 
in a basket : " S'hagodiyoweqgowa is again overtaking us and is now 
quite near us. Still again drop me beside the first fallen tree to 
which you come on our way." She was willing to obey him, so 



360 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

she did as he said, and kept on her way. Once more, when S'hago- 
diyoweqgowa came along. Turtle, by means of his orenda, causing 
his adversary to pass within reach of his teeth, again seized him by 
the foot. S'hagodiyoweqgowa thereupon said to his brother-in-law, 
" You are indeed greatly hindering me from continuing my journey 
in peace ; so let go of my foot." But Turtle did not free him, hold- 
ing fast to his foot. S'hagodiyoweqgowa therefore decided to kill 
him. Raising his 4oot with Turtle hanging to it, he beat Turtle 
against the fallen tree; but as he beat him. Turtle grew so rapidly in 
size that he was soon large enough to swallow him again. Then 
Turtle waited there two entire days, and when he had excreted 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa he continued his journey. 

At the expiration of 10 days, when S'hagodiyoweqgowa had again 
regained consciousness, he arose, saying, " I have been sleeping now 
a long time and must continue my journey"; so he once more re- 
f:;umcd his pursuit of Turtle and his sister. When S'hagodiyowe(]gowa 
was again overtaking the woman, and while .she was running onward, 
she saw a light ahead, which seemed to indicate that there might be 
an opening there. But she soon learned that this was a lake: and, 
having arrived on its shore, she looked over the water but could see 
nothing on the farther side. So she said to herself, " It seems 
that I have got to die; therefore I might as well die here." With 
this remark she seated herself on a stone. 

In a short time S'hagodiyoweqgowa reached her, and seeing her 
sitting there, he exclaimed, " My wife, you are waiting for me." and 
he seemed to be very glad. He took out his pouch, from which he 
obtained a quantity of tobacco; this he began to burn as an offering 
to the stone on which the young woman was seated. Moreover, he 
addressed the stone, saying, " I thank you, because you have been the 
cause that has made my wife wait for me here." He kept on thank- 
ing the stone as he went back toward the forest, also burning tobacco 
to the other stones. 

Just then a man arose out of the waters of the lake, and addressing 
himself to the young woman, said, " Be quick ! Come with me !" 
She immediately followed him into the water. When S'hagodiyo- 
weqgowa turned toward the lake again, he saw at once that the 
woman was gone; all he found were her tracks, which led into the 
water. 

Now, the strange man and the young woman soon came to a lodge 
in the depths, which they entered. The strange man had a sister, 
who lived in the lodge. The young woman hung up her basket, 
which contained Turtle. Whenever she ate anything she would 
drop pieces of food into the basket for her brother. Turtle. Noticing 
this, the young man's sister said, " Why do you place food in there?" 
The young woman replied, "My brother is in there; that is why I 



^nl1yl?i] LEGENDS 361 

place food there." Then came the question, " Can I see him?" The 
newly arrived woman said : " Wait two days, and you can see him ; 
then he will come out as a full-fledged man. He shall be a Turtle 
no longer." This lodge Avas situated at the bottom of the lake. 
The young woman's brother did come out a full-grown man. After- 
ward he lived with the strange man's sister as her husband, and his 
sister became the wife of the strange man who had rescued her from 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa on the shore of the lake. 

[It is not known by the story-teller who this man and his sister 
were, nor who the four brothers were, with the exception of one, 
S'hagodiyoweqgowa. These four brothers are Whirlwinds. — Editor.] 

65. The Moose Wife 

A young man living alone with his mother concluded to go into 
the forest to hunt for a whole year, collecting and drying meat, and 
intending at the end of that period to return to visit his mother. So 
he traveled a long way into the forest to a region in which he thought 
there was plenty of deer and other game. There, having built a 
cabin, he began housekeeping by himself. His daily routine was to 
make a fire, get breakfast, and then start off to hunt. He would stay 
away hunting all day. Often when he got home at night he was so 
tired that he would not take the trouble to prepare supper, but throw- 
ing himself on his couch, he would go to sleep. He was collecting a 
great quantity of cured meat. 

One evening when he was returning from a long tramp he saw as he 
neared his cabin smoke issuing from the smoke-hole in the roof. At 
this he became greatly troubled, for he thought that the fire may have 
spread and ignited his lodge. Running into the lodge as quickly as 
possible, what was his surprise to find a bright fire burning in the 
fire-pit, and his kettle, which had been suffered to boil, hanging on 
the crook in such a way as to keep its contents hot. He wondered 
who had come to cook for him, for during the time he had lived there 
and during his journeys he had never found a cabin, nor had he seen 
a human being. He searched all around to see whether he could find 
a trace of a person's visit. He saw that the deer he had brought 
home the evening before was dressed and hung up, that a pile of 
wood that he had cut had been brought in, that everything had been 
put in order, and that even corn bread had been made. On the way 
home he had thought of going to bed the moment he set foot in the 
cabin, so he was greatly rejoiced to find a warm supper awaiting him. 
He sat down and ate the supper, soliloquizing, " Surely the person 
who got this ready will come back," but no one came. 

The next morning he started as usual to hunt. When he returned 
in the evening he looked to see whether smoke was coming out of the 



362 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth. ann.S2 

smoke-hole of his cabin. There was smoke issuing from it, and again 
he found supper ready for him. On discovering a partially finished 
braid of fibers of bark, he knew that a woman had been at work. He 
saw, moreover, that she had also put a large number of his green 
deerskins to soak, preparatory to making buckskin. Thereupon lie 
thought how good she was, and he resolved to see her, whomsoever 
she might be, even if he had to give up hunting in order to do so. 

In tiie morning he started off as though he were going to hunt, 
but went only a short way into the woods to a place whence he could 
watch the cabin. He had built no fire that morning, so that he might 
be able to tell the moment smoke began to rise from the lodge. 
Stealthily creeping back toward his home, h6 soon saw smoke rising 
from the cabin. As he drew nearer, he saw what to him was a woman 
come out of the lodge and take up an armful of wood. When she 
went into the lodge he followed her as quickly as possible. There he 
found a beautiful young woman, to whom he said: " You have been 
very kind to me, and I am very thankful to you." She said in reply, 
" I knew you were starving for lack of a woman's aid, so I came to 
see whether you would take me as your wife." He accepted her offer, 
for he was very happy that she was willing to remain. She never 
left him after that. Every daj' she tanned the deerskins and cooked 
for him, working hard all the time. His wife was beautiful and he 
loved her dearly. 

Before the end of a year a boy was born to them, and they were 
perfectly happy. When the time was near to fulfill his promise to 
visit his mother, she said to him: "I know you promised to visit 
j'our mother, and the time is now here. I have everything ready 
for you. I have made moccasins for you and for your mother." He 
said in reply, " I wonder how I can carry her some meat, for she 
lives a long way off." " You have only to choose the meat you want," 
she replied ; " I know how you can carry it." He decided to take 
some of every kind. She warned him to be true and faithful to her 
while away, for many women when they saw what a good hunter he 
was would ask him of his mother. She said : " You must be true to 
me as I will be to you. You must never yield to temptation, for I 
shall know if you do, and you will never see me again." He 
promised her eveiything she asked. Early the next morning she 
asked him to go to the river with her; it was not far from the cabin. 
She knew how he came, and that he would reach his mother's home 
sooner by going on the river. WTien they reached the bank, she took 
out of her bosom a tiny canoe. He wondered what she was going to 
do with so little a plaything. She told him to take hold of one end 
and to pull away from her. On doing so, the canoe stretched out 
until it was a very large one. Then they brought on their backs 
basketful after basketful o'f meat, which they packed away in the 



CUKTIN 

HEWITT 



] LEGENDS 363 



canoe. Giving him a package, she said : " I have made these mocca- 
sins for your mother. Here is another package for you. I wish you 
to put on a pair every morning, tlirowing away the old ones." 

He promised to return, in the fall, and then they parted. When 
he reached his mother's lodge the news spread that a certain woman's 
son had returned after a year's hunting, and many came to see him 
and the great amount of meat he had In-ought. He did not tell even 
his mother that he was married, and many young girls asked for him 
as a husband. His mother had a beautiful girl in view for him, and 
continually urged him to marry her, but he would not consent After 
a while he said to his mother : " I am going to the woods again. I 
have a cabin there, and sometime you will know why I do not wish 
to marry." So saying, he started off. 

When he reached the river he shook his boat as his wife had in- 
structed him to do, whereupon it again stretched out. Getting 
aboard, he started up the river. When he neared his cabin, he 
saw his wife waiting for him and his little boy running around at 
play and they were very happy again. She told him she loved him 
better than ever, for he had withstood temptation. 

Another year passed. They had all the meat they could take 
care of, and another boy had been born to them. 

Again she got him ready to carry meat to his mother, just as 
she had done before. She seemed, however, to feel that this time he 
would yield to temptation, so she said to him: "If you marry 
another woman, you will never see me again, but if you love me and 
your children, you will lie true to us and come back. If you are not 
true, I shall not be surprised if your new wife will soon be sucking 
her moccasins from hunger, for your magic power or orenda for 
hunting will vanish." He promised her everything. 

As before, on reaching home his fame as a hunter brought many 
beautiful girls to ask for him in marriage. Again his mother 
urged him to mai"ry, and the temptation to yield then was far 
greater than the first time, but he resisted and was ready to start 
for his cabin, when one day a beautiful stranger, appearing in the 
village, came to his mother's lodge. The mother urged him to 
marry her, as she was so lovely, and he finally yielded. 

The wife in the woods, Icnowing the conditions, said: "Now 
children, we must be getting ready to go away. Your father does 
not love us and will never come back to us." Though the children 
were troubled by their mother's tears, still they were full of play and 
fun, but the poor mother was always weeping while preparing to 
leave her home. 

After the man had taken a second wife, the meat in his lodge began 
to fall away strangely. He could almost see it disappear, though 
there was a good supply when he married. In a few days but little 



364 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [i:th. iSN. S2 

was left. He went hunting but could kill nothing; he went day 
after day, but always had the same ill luck, for he had lost his magic 
power (orenda) for hunting, as his wife had foretold. One day 
when he came iiome from hunting, he found his new wife sucking 
her moccasin, for she was famishing with hunger. He cried and 
sobbed, saying, " This is my punishment ; she warned me that this 
would happen if I was untrue to her."' Thereupon he decided to 
go back to his fii'st wife and children at once and never to leave 
them again. 

He set out without saying a word to the starving wife or to his 
anxious mother. When he reached his cabin not a single footprint 
was to be seen. He went in, but only to find it empty — wife and 
children were not there, nor any meat, but their worn moccasins 
were hanging up. The sight of these made him very sad. As he 
was nearly starved, he searched everywhere for food. On the hearth 
he found three small mounds of ashes, of different sizes, the third 
being very small. Sitting down, he wondered what this could mean, 
for he knew that it must have been left by his wife as a sign to 
him should he ever come to the cabin. At last he made up his mind 
that he had three children now, and he determined to find them 
•even if he had to follow them to the end of the world. 

He mused, " My boys are very playful, and as they followed their 
motlier they must have hacked the trees as they went." Indeed, 
as the mother and the boys were starting away, the boys said, " We 
will make some sign, so that if our father ever thinks of us and 
comes back, he will be able to follow us." But the mother said: 
" No, children, you must not ; he will never come, for he has another 
wife, and will never think of his children in the woods." Neverthe- 
less, as they went on and played by the way, the boys hacked the 
trees and shot arrows in sport, so the father was soon able to trace 
them. He found that after a day's journey they had camped for 
the night, for he discovered the remains of a fire, and on a tree near- 
by, four pairs of worn-out moccasins. Tying these in a bundle, he 
hung it on his arm. 

Again he walked all day, finally coming to the remains of a fire, 
near which he saw four pairs of worn moccasins hanging up as be- 
fore. He was very tired and hungry. 

The next morning he traveled on and, as before, found the remains 
of a fire and four pairs of worn moccasins hanging on a tree. He 
always took these with him. Near noon the next day he saw smoke in 
the distance, seeming to rise from a cabin, and so it proved to be. 
He saw also two boys playing around, running, and shooting arrows; 
on seeing him they ran to tell their mother that a man was coming. 
On looking out, she recognized her husband, whereupon she told 
the boys to stay inside the lodge. He had not recognized the chil- 



CUHTI 
HEWITT, 



li] LEGENDS 365 



dren as his sons, but supposed they belonged to people living in the 
cabin. 

As he was very hungry and tired, he thought he would go in and 
ask for food. The woman turned her back as he entered, but the 
eldest boy, recognizing his father, ran to him and put his hand on his 
Icnee. The father, however, not recognizing the child, gently pushed 
his hand away. At this moment the mother, turning around, saw 
this action. " There," she said, " I told you to keep away from him, 
for he does not love you." Now the man, recognizing his wife, cried 
out, begging her to forgive him and to receive him home again. 
He seemed to be sorry, and begged so hard that she forgave him and 
brought him his little daughter, born after he had gone away. Ever 
afterward he was true to his Moose wife (for she was a Moose 
woman), and never again left his home in the woods. He and his 
little family were always very happy. 

65. S'hagodiyoweqgowa 
[Modern] 

A number of Indians traveling northward from their village met 
a S'hagodiyoweqgowa, with whom they talked. He said, " Hawenniyo 
caused me to be around to assist you." His mouth was drawn up on 
one side and down on the other. Continuing, he said : " If anyone 
mocks us in earnest, we will enchant him by sorcery. You may go 
to work making a mask representing a face like mine, and then yoii 
can cure by means of it the sick who are troubled by us, the S'ha- 
godiyoweqgowa. In this way you may take my place." So the 
people made wooden masks, to be used as directed. This, it is said, 
is the origin of the Society of False Faces, or Maskers, so prominent 
among the Seneca. ^^- 

66. The PoEctrpiNE's Grandson and the Bear 

A widower, who had a small son. married a second time. Soon 
after this event he took his wife and child into the forest to liunt. 
They lived very happily until the new wife began to think that her 
husband loved his child better than he did her. This troubled her 
beyond measure, so that she became very uneasy, thinking of nothing 
else. Then she began to study how to get rid of the boy, and at last 
resolved to destroy him. 

So one day while her husband was out hunting, she took the boy 
into the woods to a cave, whose mouth was closed with a rock. She 
rolled away the stone from in front of the opening, at the same 
time telling the boy that there were bears in the cave, and that he 
must run in and scare them, so that they would run out at the 
other end. He crept in, and immediately the woman rolled the stone 
back over its mouth, and then desei'ted him. 



366 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. anm. 82 

\A1ien night came the father returned from hunting, and imme- 
diately missing his boy. asked where he was. The woman answered 
that he was at play when she went to gather bark, and that when 
she came home she could not find him. asserting further that she 
had been hunting in all directions for him. and that she was afraid 
he had been carried oif by some wild bea.st. The father was nearly 
crazed by this event, and for many days hunted for his boy, but he 
could find only the tracks made by his little moccasins far into the 
woods — tracks which the wicked stepmother had (artificially) made 
to mislead and deceive the father. 

When the child found himself fastened in the cave he began to 
scream and cry, and his strength was givmg way and he was near 
fainting when he thought he heard a voice saying: "Poor child, 
stop crying ! I am your grandmother. I will give you food." This 
was a Mother Porcupine. Wiping away his tears with her paw; 
she brought him food, which he thought was very good, though it 
was only hemlock burs. She gave him some of the food which she 
had saved for herself.- After eating he was contented, whereupon 
she said, " You are very tired, my dear little grandson; come and lie 
down." In this way she fed and cared for him a long time. 

One day she said : " My stock of food is exhausted, and as it is 
now spring, we should not be cold out of doors. Your stepmother 
has fastened us in here. I must call on our neighbors to let us out, 
and when we are out, I will leave you in their care and go in search 
of food for myself." Approaching the opening, the Porcupine 
called aloud for help. Afterward the boy thought they went back 
into the cave, and the Porcupine said : " My dear grandson, we mu.st 
now part. I feel very sad but it can not be avoided. I will give you 
this advice. They will come and let us out, and you will go with 
them. You must be obedient and do just as you are told to do. and 
all will be well in the end." Soon they heard noises with the sound 
of voices outside the cave, and after a while a great crowd seemed to 
be collected. The imprisoned ones heard the chief of the assembh' 
say : "All who heard the call have come.^^" Now we want to know who 
will roll the stone away ? *' Birds came and pecked at it in vain ; 
they could do nothing. Then the smaller animals scratched at it. 
One after another failed. At last a wolf came forward, saying. " I 
can pull the stone away; I am the man to do it." Pushing his long 
claws under it. he pulled and pulled, until at length he exerted so 
much strength that his hold gave way and he fell over on his back. 
Then the deer tried with his long horns to raise the stone. All tried, 
every one in his own way. from the smallest to the largest animal 
(for all were present that had heard the call), except the she-bear; 
she sat at a short distance with her little family around her, con- 
sisting of three young cubs. When all the rest had failed, she said, 



Z^Itt] legends 361 

" Well, I will try." Walking up slowly and majestically to the block- 
ing stone, she examined the sci-atches made by the other animals until 
she made up her mind how to act. and then she very quickly got the 
stone away. Then peeping in, she saw a Porcupine and a human 
being, whereupon she hurried away from the opening as though she 
was greatly frightened. As the other animals looked in, they, too, 
took to their heels until they were far enough away to make sure of 
escape; then they waited to see what was to take place. 

The Porcupine, coming out, told them not to be frightened. 
Said she, "We are very poor, my grandsoii and T." She told them 
further how he came thei'e and that her stock of food was exhausted, 
adding. " Many of you are well able to care for him, so I want you to 
take charge of my grandson." All, even the birds, announced their 
willingness to do so. '" Now," she continued, " I want to know what 
you will give him to eat, and when I make up my mind that my 
grandson can live on the food that any one of you can supply, I will 
give him to that one. To my faithful friends, the birds, I give 
thanks; you may go, for I do not think my grandson could live on 
anything you could give him." 

All had brought specimens of what they could furnish and had laid 
them before the Porcupine. The wolf, coming forward, laid down 
what he had. The Porcupine examined it and then asked. "What 
would you do in case of danger? " " Of course we should run," 
the wolf replied, thereupon running off to show her, and thien coming 
back. "No, my grandson can not go with you; he could not run 
fast enough." The deer came forward with the most suitable food, 
but when the Porcupine asked. " What would you do in case of 
danger?" the deer ran otT at such speed that his horns could be heard 
rattling through the woods. Last of all the old bear came forward, 
saying: " You have all failed. Though I have a large family of my 
own. I will take the hoy and will feed him as I feed my cubs, on 
blackberries, chestnuts, and fruit." When asked what she would do 
in danger, going back to her little cubs, she gave them the sign of 
danger, at which they all crouched down beside a log while she lay 
at their side watching. She said : " That is what I do, and thus we lie 
still imtil I think the danger is past. I know where the berries grow 
in abundance, and I will take them there. I know also where my 
winter quarters will be; there my cubs will get nourishment by 
sucking my fat paws." The Porcupine then said : " You are the one 
to care for my grandchild., I wish you to take good care of him. I 
am now going for food." The l)oy never saw the Porcupine again. 
The child thought the bear took him by the hand, and that she was 
like a human being, and that they were all like real people. 

She led the boy and the cubs to the place where the berries and 
chestnuts were abundant. They played as they went along. The 



368 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ieth ann. 32 

young bears became very fond of the boy. When the old mother 
bear was lying asleep in the sun, and they were at play, the cubs 
would pull the boy's nails to make them long like theirs, and they 
tried to teach him how to climb and run up the trees as they did. At 
last he was almost equal to them in skill in these exercises, his nails 
having grown long and sharp. 

One day the old bear woke up and could not see the boy. At 
last she saw him high up in a tree a long way oflF. Then .she scolded 
her cubs and was angry witli them, and made the boy's nails as 
they originally were. So the many days of summer passed. The 
cubs and the boy were great friends and they had him sleep between 
them and their mother. 

When winter came, the old bear said, " It is time to go to our win- 
ter quarters "; so she took them to a tall, hollow tree, into which they 
all climbed, finding therein a comfortable place. Here they remained : 
and the boy thought they had plenty of room. He and the cubs 
played together and were very happy. The old bear slept most of 
the time, but when, she heard a sound she would awake instantly and 
would say, " You must keep very still ; there is a hunter near." In 
the tree was an opening from which she had an outlook. Soon after 
the warning they would see a man coming toward the tree. Then the 
boy thought he saw the mother bear, putting her paw into her pocket, 
draw out an object that had two prongs. As the hunter approached 
she would thrust this out through the hole, moving it to and fro 
until he passed ; then she would draw it in again. 

All went well imtil one day toward spring, when the fatal moment 
came. The mother bear heard a hunter approaching again and, 
although they all kept very still, she said, addressing the child : " I 
think our time has come; our separation is near; you can remain 
here, but we must go, for we are bears, but you are a human being. 
They will take you out and care for you." Then the child and the 
cubs saw the hunter coming. She put out her two-pronged bough but 
could do nothing; all her magic power was gone. When the hunter 
came up, seeing the claw marks on the bark of the tree, he concluded 
there must be bears within. The old bear knew all was over, so she 
said to the eldest of her cubs, " You must go first and the others must 
follow." At this the eldest climbed up and out, and at that instant 
the boy heard the twang of the bowstring and impact of the arrow, 
and as he watched the little bear it seemed to throw off a burden, 
which fell to the ground, while the little bear itself "-* went straight on 
without stopping. Then the other little bears followed, one and all 
sharing the fate of the first; each time one emerged the boy heard 
the same sounds and saw the burden fall, but as he saw the little 
bears still running on, he was not frightened. Then the old bear 
said : " Now, I have to go. You must be good and obedient and all 



CURTI 

HEWITT. 



^i] LEGENDS 369 



will be well with you"; then she went out. He heard the same 
sounds as before and saw her drop on the ground ; knowing she was 
killed, he began to scream. The hunter, hearing him, was astonished. 
Then, remembering having heard that a child had been lost, he 
though it might be the child in this tree. So he set to work to get 
the boy out, and soon succeeded in doing so. He found the child 
naked and unable to speak a word, having forgotten how to talk. 
Skinning the largest cub, the hunter made leggings for the child from 
the skin. The boy was grieved to see his companions dead and cut 
up, but he could not speak to let his rescuer know how dear they were' 
to him. The hunter took the boy to his father, who was overjoyed 
to' see his cliild again. Ever afterward he kept the boy near himself, 
and in the future all was well. 

67. Genonsgwa 

An old woman, the eldest of her people, lived in the forest with 
two grandchildren, a boy and a girl. One day while the old woman 
was away a female Genonsgwa came into the lodge and picked up 
the younger child, the girl. After speaking kindly to her, saying 
that she was a good little thing, she swallowed her. Then she began 
to talk to the boy, telling him how well he looked, and that he was 
wholesome, but she did not kill him. Sitting on the bed, she told 
the boy that if he would get on her back, she would take him out to 
find his grandmother. After climbing on her back, he soon became 
frightened, whereupon he grasped her so tightly that he became 
fastened to her back so that he could not get off, though he tried hard 
to do so. The Genonsgwa, rising, went in a direction different from 
that in which his grandmother had gone. The boy told her of her 
mistake, but she said, " Oh ! we shall come to the place whei'e she is." 
The Genonsgwa went very far into the woods. The boy began to 
cry for his grandmother, and cried so hard that the Genonsgwa told 
him to get off her back; she did not like to hear him cry, she said, 
but as she wanted to eat him, he did not get off'; in fact, he could not 
do so. Fortunately, the Genonsgwa could neither get her hands 
around to pull him off', nor turn her head to bite him. She could not 
get at him in any way. Knowing this, the boy clung to the middle 
of her back, realizing that she would eat him up if he slipped down. 
They traveled on thus for many days. 

When the grandmother came back to her lodge and found that the 
boy and the girl were not there, she became very uneasy. She 
searched for them but found no trace of either. After a while, find- 
ing the tracks of the Genonsgwa around the lodge, she guessed what 
the trouble was. The old woman followed the trail of the Genonsgwa, 
saying that she was bound to get her grandchildren back. 
94615°— 18 24 



370 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS Ikth.ann.32 

• Gen'onsgwa tried to get the boy off by rubbing him against a hick- 
ory tree. The boy said, "Oh! I like that. Rub harder!" At this 
she stopped rubbing him against the tree and went on. The grand- 
mother foHowed in the form of a Whirlwind, whereupon Genonsgwa 
said to the boy, " Your grandmother is coming as a Whirlwind, and 
she will strike and kill us both." The boy was silent. Looking for 
refuge, she found a hiding place in a deep ravine, in which she dug 
a hole, and going in, covered herself with the earth which slipped 
down from above. They two heard Dagwanoenyent, the grand- 
mother, coming. " Now," Genonsgwa said, " you can hear your 
grandmother coming." The Dagwanoenyent rushed over the place 
where they lay hidden. The boy shouted to his grandmother, who, 
hearing him, changed her course, coming straight back to the place 
they were in. She blew off the earth from the hiding place, so that 
Genonsgwa became just visible above the surface. Then the grand- 
mother asked the boy whether he was there. He answered, " Yes." 
The Genonsgwa lay still, whispering to the boy, "Be quiet! Your 
grandmother will see us." The grandmother then called the boy by 
name, " Dagwanoenyentgowa,^^^ get off Genonsgwa's back." Having 
done so, he went a short distance from the cliff. Then the old woman 
hurled rocks at the Genonsgwa, and after breaking all her clothes 
of rock, killed her. 

The old woman now went toward home with her grands( n. On 
the path she said : " Never allow yourself to be treated this way 
ag!»in. Never allow yourself to be maltreated by anyone. You can 
master all those Genonsgwashonon,'-" if you will only use your power, 
for you, too, are a Dagwanoenyentgowa." The old woman remained 
at home a few days with her grandson. Meanwhile some of the 
Genonsgwa's people found the trail of the Genonsgwa woman, which 
they followed until they came to the place where her stone clothes 
were rent, and she was killed. When they asked of it, the spirit of 
the Genonsgwa told how she had been killed and how her coat had 
been rent. 

The headman of the Genonsgwa now resolved to muster a large 
company of their people and kill the old woman, Dagwanoenyent- 
gowa. While they were preparing for this, the old woman found 
out their plans when she was out on her journeys and said to her 
grandson, " We must go to get your sister out of the belly of the 
Genonsgwa woman, for she is sitting there crying for me all the 
time." So they set out for home, and when they reached the place 
where 'the Genonsgwa woman lay dead, the grandmother, having 
built a small fire, began to burn tobacco on it for her granddaughter, 
saying, " This is what we like ; this is what we like." They burned 
perhaps half a pouch full of tobacco, meanwhile fanning the smoke 
toward the Genonsgwa woman all the time, and saying: "This is 



c 

HE 



[ew.tt] legends 371 



what we like. Do you come out of Genonsgwa's belly." There was 
no sign yet of her granddaughter. She had not yet come forth. At 
last the old woman said to her grandson : " We must have more help. 
You have a great many relatives — uncles, aunts, and cousins. We 
must call them here." Thereupon the old woman, Dagwanoenyent- 
gowa, called repeatedly. They came one by one. Soon there was a 
great number of them. Having broken up and removed all the 
clothes of the Genonsgwa, they threw them away, leaving the dead 
body naked. Then the old woman, building a fire at Genonsgwa's 
head, burned tobacco on it. All the Dagwanaenyent people walked 
around the fire, each throwing tobacco on it and saying, "This is 
what we like." After each one had gone around once and had 
thrown tobacco into the fire once, the young girl started up in the 
Genonsgwa's belly, and panting for breath, walked out, saying, " How 
long have I been here?" They gave her more tobacco smoke, which 
she inhaled until she gained full strength. Then all went home, the 
old woman and her two grandchildren to her own lodge, and the 
other Dagwanoenyents each to his or her lodge. 

After they had been home a while a Genonsgwa came to the old 
woman's lodge, who talked pleasantly, inquiring how they were. 
Having found out that they were only three in number, the Ge- 
nonsgwa went back home, thin-king it would be a small work to kill 
them all. After the Genonsgwa went away the old woman said: 
" We are in trouble now. There is a great number of these Ge- 
nonsgwa people leagued against us. They are assembled some- 
where, not far away. When this struggle commences we do not 
Icnow whether we shall be able to come home here again or not." 
As soon as she had finished talking with her grandchildren, the old 
woman, going out, called, " Dagwanoenyents ! " The girl, not know- 
ing what that meant, asked her grandmother, who said : " I am call- 
ing your relations to help us. You are a Dagwanoenyent, too." 
The Dagwanoenyents came one by one. When all had come, there 
were 60 besides the old woman and her two grandchildren. Dag- 
wanoenyentgowa now said : " Each one must have a stone to strike 
with, just heavy enough to handle with ease." When they had 
gathered stones the Genonsgwa began to come, thousands upon thou- 
sands in number. The Dagwanoenyents were frightened when they 
saw them, but the old woman who led them said : " We must sepa- 
rate and attack them singly. Have faith to kill each one with but 
one blow, and you will do it. You must keep the stones in your 
hands. Be firm and retreat slowly in different directions." The 
Dagwanoenyents took her advice. Whenever they had a chance, 
they struck and killed a Genonsgwa, retreating all the time and 
killing the Genonsgwa. for a long distance. The old woman then 
told all her people to go up a high mountain toward the south, ahead 



372 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth ann. 32 

of them, fighting as they went. She continued : " When we all reach 
the top, we shall go down a short distance on the other side. The 
Genonsgwa will come to the top and we shall strike them. One 
lot of us must strike from the east, and the other from the west side, 
and we must get behind them and drive them forward into the great 
ravine on the south side of the mountain, where a river runs by. 
There they will all perish." The Genonsgwa came to the mountain 
top, where there was a large clear space. Looking around on every 
side, they saw nothing of the Dagwanoenyents, hence they thought 
the Dagwanoenyents had gone for food. They had not stood there 
long, however, when they heard the sound of the wind below them 
on both sides of the mountain. The noise grew louder and louder, 
until presently the Dagwanoenyents struck them on both sides, and 
uniting in their rear, fell upon them from behind also. So terrible 
were the attack and the power of the Dagwanoenyents, that they tore 
all the trees out by the roots and swept the earth oft' the top of the 
mountain, hurling the rocks and trees and Genonsgwa into the ravine 
and river below. The Genonsgwa were piled upon one another like 
the rocks on the banks and in the bed of the river. The Dagwanoen- 
yents were now dancing on the mountain top, and the old woman 
said : " We have hurled the Genonsgwa down there and we would 
better finish them. Half of you go along the ridge running south 
from this mountain east of the river, and the other half along the 
western ridge, and blow all the trees and stones and earth into the 
great ravine." They did this, and when they came together they 
had stripped the mountain spurs naked. Meanwhile the river forced 
everything to the end of the ravine, where it piled up the debris of 
fallen trees in a great dam, so that the river became a lake on the 
south side of the mountain. This lake is called Hadiqsadon ge- 
nonsgwa ganyudae; that is, the grave of the Genonsgwashonon, or 
Genonsgwa people. 

68. HiNON HOHAWAQK^^' AND HiS GRANDMOTHER 

There was a very poor little old woman, who lived in the woods. 
She was so destitute that she was nothing but skin and bones. She 
dwelt in a smoky little lodge and cried all the time, both day and 
night. Her robe of skins was so old and dirty that one could not tell 
without difficulty of what material it was made. She had seven 
daughters, six of whom were carried off one after another by hostile 
people, while the seventh died. 

The daughter who died had been buried some time when one night 
the old woman heard crying at the grave. Going to the grave with a 
torch, she found there a naked baby. The child had crawled up Dut 
of the grave through a hole in the earth. Wrapping the baby in her 



™'^S LEGENDS 373 

blanket, the old woman took it home. She did not know, she did not 
even suspect, that her daughter was with child when she died. 

The little boy grew very rapidly. When he was of good size the 
old woman came home one day from gathering wood but could not 
find him. That night it stormed, with thunder and lightning raging. 
In the morning the child returned to her. His grandmother asked, 
" Where have you been, my grandson ? " " Grandmother," said he, 
" I have been with my father ; he took me to his home." " Who is 
your father? " " Hinon is my father; he took me home first, then we 
came back and were all about here last night." The old woman 
f;sked, " Was my daughter, your mother, in the grave? " " Yes," said 
the boy, " and Hinon used to come to see my mother." The old 
woman believed what he said. 

As the boy grew he used to make a noise like that of thunder, and 
whenever Hinon came to the neighborhood he would go out and 
thunder, thus helping his father, for he was Hinon Hohawaqk, the 
son of Hinon. 

Some time after this the boy asked his grandmother where his six 
aunts were, and the grandmother answered • " There are an old 
woman and her son, whose lodge is far away; they live by playing 
dice and betting. Your aunts went one by one with a company of 
people, and played dice (plum pits) ; being beaten, their heads were 
cut off. Many men and women have gone to the same place and have 
lost their heads." Hinon Hohawaqk answered, " I will go, too, and 
will kill that woman and her son." The old woman tried to keep 
him home, but he would not remain with her. He told her to make 
two pairs of moccasins for him. He was very ragged and dirty, so 
she made the moccasins and got him the skin of a flying-squirrel for 
a pouch. 

Setting off toward the west, soon he came to a great opening where 
there was a large bark lodge with a pole in front of it. and on the 
pole a skin robe. He saw boys playing ball in the opening, and going 
on a side path, he heard a great noise. After a while the people 
saw him, whereupon one of them said, " I do not know where that 
boy comes from." The old people were betting and the boys were 
playing ball. Soon an old man came up to Hinon Hohawaqk and 
gave him a club; he played so well that the old man came again, 
saying, "We want you to play dice; all the people will bet on you." 
A bowl was placed on an elk skin lying under the pole. The woman 
and her son were there and the other people stood around. Hinon 
Hohawaqk answered, " I do not know how to play the game." The 
old man replied, "We will risk our heads on you;" so he followed 
the old man. He saw a white stone bowl as smooth as glass. The 
old woman was sitting there on the elk skin, ready to play, and 
Hinon Hohawaqk knelt down beside the bowl. She said, " You 



374 SENECA FICTION, LEGENDS, AND MYTHS [eth. ann. 32 

play first." " No," answered he, " you play first." So she took out 
her dice, which were round and made from plum stones, and blow- 
ing on them, cast them into the bowl, which she shook, at the same 
time calling, out, " Game ! game ! " The dice flew up into the air, all 
becoming crows and cawing as they went out of sight. After a 
while they came down, still cawing, and resumed the form of plum 
stones as they settled in the bowl. The old woman had three plays 
to make a count of seventeen. She threw three times but got noth- 
ing. Then Hinon Hohawaqk in order to win took dice out of his 
pouch of flying-squirrel skin. The old woman wanted him to use 
her dice, but he would not touch them. Placing his dice in the 
bowl, he shook, whereupon the dice, becoming ducks, flew upward. 
They went very high, and all the. people heard them as they rose; 
when they touched the bowl again they were plum stones, and 
scored 10. Then Hinon Hohawaqk shook the bowl again, calling. 
"Game! game I" while the old woman called out, "No game!" 
Back came the dice, scoring another 10. He cast the third time and 
scored 10 more. He had won. Then he called the people to see 
him cut off the heads of the old woman and her son. " No," said 
the old woman, "you must play again. Here is my son; you must 
play ball with him, and if he loses we shall both forfeit our heads." 
At this Hinon Hohawaqk asked the old man what he thought. 
The people, seeing how skillful he was, said "Play! " whereupon he 
went to the ball-ground, ragged and looking poor. There were but 
two playing, one on each side. Hinon Hohawaqk jumped, knocking 
the club far out of his opponent's hand. Then the old woman's son 
ran for his club, but before he could get it back Hinon Hohawaqk 
had sent the ball through the goal posts. This was repeated seven 
times and Hinon Hohawaqk won the game. " Now," said he to all 
the people, "you can have the heads of the old woman and her 
son." The two heads were cut off, and the boys played with the old 
woman's head over the whole field. 

"Now," said Hinon Hohawaqk; "I am going to bring my grand- 
mother to this place, and we must all come here to stay and have 
this long dwelling in which to live." All went home to their lodges, 
and as the Son of Thunder went, he sang praises of himself, and his 
grandmother heard him on his way. He told her what he had done, 
saying, " We must all go there and live in that fine dwelling and 
field."' She prepared provisions and they went. It took them a long 
time to reach the place. All the other people having reached there 
also, they built dwellings aroimd the field. "When all had settled 
down, Hinon Hohawaqk called them to the council lodge to have a 
dance. After they had finished the dance, all went to their homes. 
Putting away her old blanket, the grandmother began to dress. 
Having put on the clothes left by the old woman who lost her 



CDRTI 
HEWITT 



rx] LEGENDS 375 



head, soon she looked like a young woman and lived happily. After 
a time Hinon Hohawaqk went off with Hinon, his father, with 
whom he stayed all winter. 

In the spring the old woman was uneasy in her mind. She heard 
thunder in the west, and soon afterward her grandson came to the 
lodge. She was very glad to see him. " Where have you been ? " 
she asked. He answered : "At the great mountain far off in the west. 
I have been with my father helping the nations and protecting men." 
After that he remained with his grandmother all summer. Once 
in a while he would go away when it began to storm but would come 
back again when the turbulence of the weather ceased. 

He lived a long time in this way, until at last he said to his 
grandmother: "I have an uncle living in the west; some witch stole 
him from you. I must go to find him." So he went to the west to 
search for his uncle. He went on till he came to a lodge in which he 
saw a woman sitting by a fire, with her head resting on her hands. 
She would not answer when he asked where his uncle was. Soon 
afterward he went out, and taking his war club from his pouch, he 
knocked her on the head, killing her. When he had killed the 
woman he went out and walked all around the lodge, mourning and 
looking for his uncle. At last he heard the moaning of a man. He 
looked into the trees, for he could not see any one on the ground, but 
could not find him. Soon h